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Night Court
7-This means war... crimes.

7-This means war... crimes.

I felt a pressure building in my head where he was touching it. It caused me to flash to a grounding technique I always used when trying to banish bad images from my mind. I lost myself into music.

“Hmm. It seems he left his friends behind. Hiding the truth from them or...” He looked puzzled. “Because they didn't dance?”

“Well if they don't dance then they're no friends of mine.” I replied. Safety Dance from Men Without Hats was always an old go to.

“Bah.” The man's face wrinkled in disgust. “I'm going to have the song in my head all night.”

Lucas laughed. “And you always call yourself a Doppelganger Mind Lord?”

“Can it, wolf.” Snarled the gaunt man. “Songs have a resonance that makes things difficult.”

Did it now?

The judge banged his gavel. “Leave the rivalry at the door you two. We need this done. Can you do it, William?”

“With pleasure,” he growled.

The pain doubled, but I was in a fighting mood. I launched into Billy Joel- River of dreams. I used to love to karaoke that. I felt memories flash through my mind of me singing it and then others of hearing the music. I didn't think they were all memories from me. I used more of his greatest hits. I moved on to Journey, and then a few hits from the 90's to see what would happen. Spice girls, Jennifer Lopez. Gangster's Paradise came up and I saw a grimace on his face. I tried the weird Al Yankovich Amish Paradise but it seemed less successful. Philistine. I needed something older. Maybe things he personally experienced. Luckily I had memorized the Pirates of Penzance. I hit him with Modern Major General. I felt his mind reel. Images of dozens of performances. From many era's. From multiple people.

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Did he keep all the memories he pulled from his victims? I saw him begin to sweat.

“Do you have anything?” the judge asked.

“I have information vegetable, animal, and mineral. I know the kings of England and I quote the fights historical. From Marathon to Waterloo in orders categorical.” He strained. “Give me a minute.”

I needed to think of more old stuff. I pulled Doris Day.

“Are you okay?” The judge frowned.

“Don't worry about it. What ever shall be, shall be.” He sang and then gritted his teeth.

A flash of inspiration hit me. “This is the song that never ends...” A multitude of memories cascaded into my head. Children singing in buses on school field trips. Every episode of Lamb Chop. The song looping over and over hours at a time. I began to feel more through the link.A growing horror as his own mind was lost in the deluge desperately trying to pull away. I dove into the memories. Feeling his control falter, he began to drown in the stream.

I could have let him go then. Suitably chastened and terrified of ever coming near me or anyone else ever again. It wasn't that I wasn't feeling merciful, I was feeling like a war crime was warranted. I pulled on the darker elements of the House of Mouse. A time before letting go and not discussing Bruno. Darkness from an earlier age. I felt his mind snap like a fisherman confronted with Cthulu.

Some version of paramedics loaded him up on a stretcher, tears spilling from wild eyes. His voice hoarse as he sobbed the lyrics. “It's a small world after all...”

Everyone else in the room looked worried. It was probably disconcerting that I seemed to float in utter serenity.

“You look pretty pleased with yourself,” the judge remarked.

“I just experienced Disney through the eyes of a multitude of children.” I felt like I had achieved a version of Nirvana. “That was truly magical.” After months of blood and guts this was like a lifetime of nice vacations. It began to fade, but the sense of wonder and beauty of it all stopped any alarm from the loss of it. It was better to have loved and lost and all. “Is there a fruit basket I could get sent to him?”

The prosecutor werewolf cleared his throat. “I motion that we put the restraints back on.”

The judge mulled it over for a second. “Denied...” He looked at me thoughtfully. “...for now.”