Spread-eagled in chains, thick stone dungeon walls, feathers, so many tools... and gloves.
His struggles finally diminish. Huge, famous eyes track the animated feathers.
Realization, fear, fury...
Panic, despair, hysteria, resignation.
And now the gloves start in, impossibly upping the ante.
Desperate expression, mindless roaring.
He is adored by other humans, but he is being physically, intricately adored now. When people fail to give him the continuous, unending adoration he has come to expect, the watchful spirit of celebrity steps in.
By the fourth hour, he's a pathetic husk - weeping, gibbering nonsensically, too weary to move, begging to be jacked off, hungry for a cigarette like never before, perhaps suspecting that there's no reason whatsoever that he'll be set free tonight, scratchily pleading with the feathers to leave his f-fookin' teats alone, get away from his thighs, his biceps...
"Ya can't fookin' keep this up... I'm gonna go out of my mind, here, stop tickling me, dammit, stop! I canna t-take any more..."
"Oh no, oh no, oh no! No, no, no.
"Not another day of this. You can't. Fookin' ticklers. Listen to me. I can't stand it no more. Not another second.
"Let me go, ya bastarrrr-hah hah hoh hoh hohhh-nooooo..."
"A million fookin' dollars, if you give me a smoke. I gotta have a fookin' smoke! Please. Two million. Please?
"Every penny I have. Just take it, and leave me the fook alone, now.
"Aaaaaw hah hah haaaa-aeeeee..."
"Not again. Sweet mother Mary, ya can't fookin' keep me here, day after day, and be doin' this. No more. You're gonna tickle me some more, aren't ya? Another day. Damn ya, don't ya do it, don't touch me!
"Oh, Not the brushes, not the fookin' brushes again...
"Haallllp! hhaaaah hah hoh hoh hoh n-n-naaaw, oh no hoh hoh hoh..."
"S-somebody... help me! Haaaalllp! I'm still here, aw fook! They're gonna - Nnnn-no!
"Help meee... They're tuh-tickling -
"Nnohhhhh haw haw haw haaaaw..."
"How many days can you be doin' this, hey? I'm a goner.
"Please, aw please, let me go. Today. Aw, fook... I'll give you everything. Everything I got, you hear me? I gotta have a damn smoke. Fookin' heartless, ya cunts. Take it all. Just -
"Ah, you don't want none o' that. Do ya? Just tickling. Ya bastards. Rat-bastards. With your fancy magic feathers...
"Oh, shite. Shite! Here we gooo-oooo-oooh...
(MUSIC down - CG down - go to CAM. 1)
"Alright! Welcome back to The Ordinary Guy's Telethon. Thanks to every single one of you out there who've kicked in, Ferral Collins is definitely gonna be tickle-tortured for eighty-four consecutive weeks! That's excellent, that's really fantastic, but I know we can do a lot better than that. Call in now - a dollar, five dollars - anything to keep this son of a bitch hidden away, locked down and laughing his Irish guts out. That number, again, is 800-TM-CATCH. Do it, guys... for the sake of your happy home.
"Our goal is one hundred fifty-six weeks - that's three solid years - and by then our mates will have gotten attached to somebody else already. We're taking nominations for the next lucky victim at www.ticklethebigstar.com. Skip a beer and send us the dough instead - 'cause together, you know we can keep this pretty boy suffering. Three full years without Ferral Collins showing up. Call now - oh, hey. Look. Another thousand-dollar pledge! This one's from the guys at The Lure, in New York City. Wow. Way to go. Another two days added, right there! Sensational. Oh, and speaking of which, let's go back to the hidden cameras and see how the prisoner is holding up. You'll see that every dollar you kick in is more than worth it-
"Okay, here's the man of the hour. He looks pretty fuckin' happy, doesn't he? Let's give a listen."
"Aaaaah hah hah hah n-nah haaaah! Nuh haw haw haw huh huh haw..."
19apr04