Book 1: Temporary Insanity
Episode 3
The Event
As Dobie got out of his car, some freak accosted him. It was a Dynamo trying to get him inside the Center. Dobie brushed him aside and stood with his hands on his hips in front of the building entrance, asking himself if he really wanted to go in.
From inside, Venelia spotted him and ran out to greet him. She gushed enthusiastically and talked him into going inside. She asked him to sign the guest list, but, not wanting to be on their mailing list, Dobie begged off.
Taking a look around the place, he realized he was standing in the foyer of a formerly grand hotel, now gone to pot along with the rest of Hollywood. On its walls were nothing but photos of the Dynamo founder, Elroy Smith. In various poses, with his bulging, narrow-set eyes, bulldog jowls and just a hint of a chin that accentuated his oversized nose, Mr. Smith was not a handsome man. But, that wasn’t his role. His role was that of a wise, benevolent father figure.
Dobie wasn’t given much time to study his surroundings as Venelia insisted on escorting him to the Event Room.
“It’s about to start!” she giggled.
“What’s about to start?”
She never answered as she led him into a large room – probably used to be the dining room of the old hotel, now filled with row upon row of tan metal fold-up chairs, most of them empty. She seated him in the front row with the other three people in the room, then made an excuse and left him there.
Dobie immediately abandoned his assigned spot and found a seat in the very back of the room. He kicked his feet up onto the chair in front of him and waited for the show to begin. He had no clue what was going to happen but, judging by the podium up front and portable movie screen behind that, he guessed there would be a speech or slide show or both. He could hardly wait. Probably somebody’s vacation slides.
Over the next few minutes, dozens of people were escorted in. And that’s when Venelia reappeared wearing her pious and blissful look. She makes a great usher. He smiled and waved. She frowned, either because he’d abandoned the spot she had chosen for him or was engrossed in her ushering.
She did eventually crack a thin smile.
A dark-haired man in military dress blues entered the room from a side entrance and approached the podium. The chattering crowd quieted down. Venelia and the other ushers positioned themselves in strategic locations around the room and remained standing throughout the event.
Footlights came on and illuminated the portable movie screen. The uniformed man stepped in front of it and greeted the crowd with a cheerful hello. To Dobie’s surprise, the entire audience gave a hearty hello back.
Glowing ethereally from the footlights, the speaker donned a pair of sunglasses and went into an impassioned speech on “learning to be one with the universe and making lots of money in the process.” Or something like that.
Whatever the speaker said after the first couple of minutes, Dobie could not remember. He had stopped listening. He was more interested in the various members of the audience; specifically, a gorgeous redhead in the front row. She was a favorite of the speaker, too, for he spent most of his time speaking directly to her and smiling coolly behind his dark glasses.
After the speaker finished his presentation, members of the audience stood up one by one to “confess their sins and celebrate their wins.” That’s when Dobie stood up and turned to leave.
“Yes, sir! And what do you have to tell us?” said the man at the podium.
Dobie had a bad feeling turning back toward the audience. Yep. The speaker was addressing him.
“Oh, I... uh,” Dobie fumbled, “...I don’t... I was just leaving.”
The man at the podium was irritatingly persistent, like most Dynamos. “Surely you have a win or two you can share with us?”
“No, I don’t,” Dobie said. “I’ve led a very dull... winless life.” He bolted into the aisle and walked briskly toward the rear exit. The crowd cheered.
On the edge of his peripheral vision he saw a hazy blue figure. Human or otherwise, he could not be sure. Like a distant star in the corner of his eye, it disappeared when he tried to focus on it.
“This is all just too weird,” he said to no one and melted through the door before the mob behind him sacrificed him to the gods or something. He would have to tell Venelia next time he saw her exactly what he thought of her religion and fellow religiots.
~ ~ ~
Sometime in the middle of the night, Dobie awoke on the floor of a strange apartment, with no idea how he got there.
He heard the sound of a shower going. He wanted to get up but couldn’t. So, he lay back on the floor. A few minutes later, he tried again and was able to prop himself up on his elbows. He then noticed he was naked.
A few minutes later he was on his feet and wandering into the fogged up bathroom. He could see the shape of someone through the smoked-glass shower doors. Standing at the toilet, wondering whose bathroom he was in and who was in the shower, its door opened and Venelia Dumas stuck her head out.
“Well, hello there,” she said, casually appraising his naked body. “Care to join me?”
With his head throbbing and mind reeling, he stepped toward the shower. He slipped on the wet floor, hit his head and knocked himself out.
When he came to a few hours later, Venelia was gone. She’d left a note: “Borrowed your car. Love, Venelia.”
Love, Venelia!? Oh god.
She was gone. That was the important thing. He could always get another car. For now, he would have to catch a cab to work.
Rummaging through her kitchen, he found what he needed for a cup of instant coffee. Hazy, slightly frightening images from last night came to him as he boiled the water. How could he have slept with Venelia? Did he have sex with her? Yes, he now remembered, he did.
He vaguely recalled that while escaping the Dynamo Center, Venelia followed him to his car and invited him out for a drink. She wanted to apologize for abandoning him earlier. He was surprised she drank, being a religious fanatic. But she did, and they did at a hole-in-the-wall dive across from the Dynamo building.
With Venelia buying, Dobie decided to get stinking drunk… again. At one point, she looked him in the eye and said, “Ever had sex with a Dynamo?”
She was a large woman. Big boned. Pleasantly plump, with large brown eyes and a pretty enough face when she smiled, if you could pry one out of her.
That night, though, she had a deadly seriousness about her. A certain crazed look in her eyes. Dobie knew he’d better do whatever she said.
Day Two
His second day at TT&D was interesting.
Upon arrival, he was met by Ms. Trammel, saying, “Venelia hasn’t shown up for work yet. Could you sit at reception until she gets here? You might be replacing her permanently if she keeps this up.”
He didn’t like that word “permanently,” but agreed to play receptionist for now. Hasn’t shown up for work yet? She borrowed my car. Where is she?
Ms. Trammel started to walk away then turned and asked, “Isn’t that the same thing you wore yesterday?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged.
“Temps!” she shook her head and left the room.
~ ~ ~
Venelia was called into the Dynamo Center first thing in the morning to meet with its leader, Elroy Smith. She now sat in blissful obedience in the waiting room outside the great man’s office. When his door opened, it triggered flood lights overhead, creating an ethereal glow like that man in dress blues did at last night’s talk.
A handsome young male assistant dressed in white took Venelia’s elbow and guided her – still half blinded by the flood lights – into Smith’s lair. He sat her down in a blue upholstered chair.
Smith gave her eyes a moment to adjust, smiled, and pointed at the weapons cache to her right. Her eyes lit up at the variety of guns, plastic explosives, even a flame-thrower.
“You said last night,” Smith began, “that you were ready to complete your mission. Are you ready to make that law firm pay for their frivolous lawsuits and harassment?”
“Yes, my lord,” Venelia said. “I am ready. The time has come.”
~ ~ ~
Dobie was at the reception desk, minding his own business, letting the phone ring off the hook. No one ever showed him how to transfer a call. After answering those first few calls and failing to transfer them to their intended recipient, he gave up. He figured there was some sort of voicemail system. Whoever came in later and listened to those messages could deal with it.
When two paramedics stepped out of the elevator and approached him, he tried to ignore them as Venelia had done to him the day before. They wouldn’t go away. Must be a trick to it I haven’t figured out yet.
Without looking up, he asked, “Can I help you?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” said one of the men. The other man stepped to one side and stood with his hands folded across his chest.
“Is there some sort of emergency?” Dobie asked the paramedic standing in front of the desk.
“Nothing like that,” the man said. “I was just wondering if you could tell me how many lawyers it takes to screw in a light bulb.”
“What?” Dobie shook his head.
He never got a reply. The second man pulled out a handkerchief and sneezed. Only, instead of putting the hankie to his own nose, he placed it over Dobie’s. Dobie inhaled instinctively, and that was all they needed. He was immediately light-headed and dizzy.
The men each grabbed one of Dobie’s arms, pulled him out of his chair and dragged him into the elevator. In the elevator stood a young woman, also wearing a bogus paramedic’s uniform, holding the door open with one hand and clutching a wheeled stretcher with the other. Once she let the door close, Dobie felt a stabbing sensation in his butt. Aside from a fleeting mental note to stay off elevators from now on, that was the last thing he remembered. He was unconscious by the time they strapped him onto the stretcher.
On their way down, one man asked the other, “Are you sure we got the right person?”
“What do you mean?”
“I figgered the receptionist would be a girl, is all.”
“There’s no rule,” the woman chimed in, “that says a receptionist has to be a woman.”
The men ignored her.
“Hey,” the second man continued, “they said grab the receptionist. That’s what we did. What’s the problem?”
“None, I guess.”
When the elevator reached street-level, they wheeled Dobie’s stretcher quickly across the courtyard into a waiting ambulance. There were numerous passersby looking on, but no one knew or cared that Dobie was being kidnapped.


Couldn't agree more with the subtle but powerful atmosphere you're building here. Thank you for illustrating so well how these 'benevolent father figures' are often constructed, it's a crucial insite.
Thanks!