“OH, NOT AGAIN!”

              “Yes, yes again,” a familiar voice replied.

              Exflibberaguil jumped up. His face split into a happy grin. “Hey! You didn’t kill yourself.”

              “Clever observation. I proved I was worthy by capturing you again.”

              “Well,” Exflibberaguil said brightly, the smile not leaving his face, “at least I was captured for a good cause. I prevented a suicide! That would look good on my resume when I apply for rabbit-killing college. No offense,” he added hastily.

              “None taken,” the rabbit replied icily.

              Exflibberaguil folded his hands behind his head and laid back down. “You know, there’s an invention called paint, and another called wallpaper. These white walls are so boring. The least you can do after taking over my ship is to redecorate it.”

              “I’ve heard you stole this ship.”

              “What? I did? I can’t remember,” Exflibberaguil replied. Then he paused and considered. “I suppose that would be around the time I left my planet then. I remember forgetting about that.”

              Oakley stirred, yawning and smacking her lips. She turned over, then furrowed her brow, feeling the cold, hard floor, and slowly began to awaken. Next to her, the doctor began rolling around and tossed fitfully around. Only Timothy was snoring soundly.

              “Seems like your friends are about to awake.”

              “They’re not my friends,” Exflibberaguil replied. “They kidnapped me and took me to their authorities.” Timothy frowned. “Speaking of which, I remember one of the authorities acted very strangely. He diverted everyone else’s attention away, so I could be taken away. How did you manage to do that? I never imagined mind control was possible yet, though the Sodriew are rather primitive. Are their brain structures different? I imagine it will be easier to control them.”

              “Nonsense,” the rabbit said. “We can’t control brains. Of course, I can’t tell you the details, but brain-control is so very unimaginative. Besides, we tried to do something of the sort, but we had so much difficulty finding volunteers to control the brains. None of them wanted to be in an imbecile’s head. When we tried to hire rabbits, they offered ridiculously high prices and were no good anyway. They often slipped up and made the test subjects speak Rabbish. A very clumsy mistake. That is why we train the current generation to speak in multiple primitive languages. Mind control is a very delicate and serious business. It is a possibility we are hoping to explore once we get a volunteer.”

              “So, what are you doing now instead?”

              The rabbit made a noise like a defiant hmph! “I’m not going to reveal secrets that easily.”

              “I know a secret,” Oakley yawned. “I was the one that poured the soap in gold swishy fishy’s fishbowl. The class all blamed it on Matt. I started the rumor.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

              Exflibberaguil stared at Oakley in a strange, perplexed way, the raised his eyes and decided that he had experienced plenty of stranger things and heard plenty of weirder secrets when Nick awoke.

              “Where am I?” the doctor muttered. He slowly raised himself into a seated position, his body wobbling and his head nodding. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, staring at the wall. “So bright,” he complained. “Turn off the light. Five more minutes.” He collapsed back on the floor.

              By this time, Oakley was fully awake, though even more confused of her current situation than she was of her dream. She was still debating if she was experiencing reality, or just the sort of dream where you dream of dreaming. Her forehead creased in concentration.

              Timothy still sleep soundly, snoring through his nose, holding his breath, and suddenly exhaling with a little puff.

              “These humans have very strange habits,” the rabbit observed.

              Exflibberaguil hadn’t been listening to her. He was busy squinting at the ceiling. It seemed high up than last time. Yet he was sure this was the same room he had been. The scuff marks from the televisions weren’t completely wiped away, and he though he could see his nail marks where the ceiling used to be.

              “Thinking of escaping again?” the rabbit asked smugly, her voice indicating she knew the task was impossible. “We raised the ceiling and took away the televisions. It’s you’re fault. If you hadn’t escaped last time, the televisions will still be here to entertain you.”

              “And Nick would have suffered from brain damage.”      

              The rabbit didn’t answer. Then in strange and criticizing voice, she asked, “Didn’t that human still suffer from brain damage?”

              “Of course!” Exflibberaguil replied quickly. “I—I had to carry her! You have no idea the harm you’ve done to her brain!”

              The rabbit didn’t answer, but somehow her silence still conveyed suspicion.

              The doctor broke the tension. His medical instinct was triggered when he heard ‘brain damage.’ “Brain damage?” he asked groggily. “What sort? I was always interested in the brain, but the closest I got to a neurologist was treating bad concussions. What part of the brain was damaged?”

              “The hypothalamus, I believe,” Exflibberaguil replied, not sure of the answer he was expecting.

              Before the doctor could begin his lecture and a few dozen possible diagnoses, the rabbit cut in, “When is that third one going to wake up?”

              “Why don’t you wake him up then?” Exflibberaguil snapped.

              “If you remember, the last time we woke one of your kind, she started screaming and hospitalized three rabbits, one of which has already gone deaf in one ear.”

              “If you remember,” Exflibberaguil mimicked, “you also wiped her memories and made her go insane. Just so you won’t forget,” he added sassily.

              “Ah, forgetting. Something you are an expert about.” Before Exflibberaguil could retaliate, the rabbit continued. “Oh, forget it then. Will any of you be willing to wake that other one up.”

              “First of all,” Oakley piped up, “who are yo—”

              “I’ll fill you all in later,” Exflibberaguil replied impatiently, hurrying over to Timothy and shaking him. When this didn’t work, he proceeded to slap Timothy very hard, taking too much pleasure in doing so. “That’s. What. You. Get. For. Kidnapping. Me,” Timothy said between slaps.

              “I’m awake!” Timothy cried.

              “Good,” the rabbit said snidely as soon as Timothy finished uttering his pleads for mercy. “Then the test shall begin.”