Tied to a chair, Bill struggled and wriggled against the bindings, furiously trying to free himself from this insane situation. While you're going on and on about your program, about rules, well fuck that. "Are you fucking kidding me?! I'd rather give wookiee fisting a chance than this horseshit!! This is crazier than a Dario Argento movie! And it's probably twelve kinds of fucking child abuse to boot! I swear, you try to alien-probe me or anything and I'll call the newspapers on you! I'll call 20/20! I'll call fucking wizard magazine! I'll- I'll call my mom! MOMMMEE—!"

But he was betrayed. His own mother called you to fix him? To do what? He was in disbelief, he was furious, that fucking bitch. He was tied up in his own goddamn basement, to a chair, by a fucking stranger because of her woeful worries. Fuck that.

"This- This is bullshit! The fucking Red Skull wouldn't do this-- and he's a Nazi scumbag! I can handle it, though -- you'll see! You can't break the Batman, you can't make Captain Kirk tap out, and you can't tell Bill Dickey how to live!!" Bill spat out, a nasty snarl on his face with his glasses crooked from his useless squirming and struggling.