I woke up strapped to a dentist's chair. The first thing I noticed was that I could not move my legs, arms or head as they were too tightly secured. I could blink me eyes, perhaps. I assumed that I was blinking them, but I could not be certain. I could open my mouth, but no sound came out, scream as I might.
The second thing I noticed was the white sheet draped over my body, from the bottom of my chin to the tops of my ankles. It was not even a comfortable sheet. My initial impression was that it may have been purchased from Target for $1.99.
The room was too dark to tell how big or small it might be. I could barely see a few feet in front of me. I did not notice the person behind me until I heard the piercing shrill of the drill. It was louder and deeper than a dentist's drill. And it went nowhere near my teeth, as far as I could tell.
When I felt the drill pierce my scalp, I wanted to scream out. The most I could do was open my mouth. The sound would have to wait until later. When I felt the drill bore into my skull, I tightened every muscle in my body and fought against the restraints with every ounce of power I had. But it was not enough. Whatever held me down was stronger than I could ever hope to be.
I could feel the drill tear into my brain, which was both terrifying and a little suspicious. I knew not nearly enough about the human brain, but I knew that it could not feel pain. You could literally cut out pieces of someone's brain while they were fully conscious and they would feel nothing, after the part about cutting through everything that protects the brain. That's where it really hurts.
I could see nothing happening on top of my head, since there were no reflective surfaces anywhere nearby, but I could feel wires getting pushed into me. After the wires, it felt like I was being prodded with excessively long needles. Metal clamps held everything in place.
“Just one more adjustment,” a voice said from somewhere behind me.
“What's happening?” I asked the shadows.
“Good,” the voice replied. “You can talk.”
“Who are you?” I tried to move my head to look at the voice, but it would have been easier to move an active volcano.
“My name is Dr Shrinker,” the voice answered.
“Dr Shrinker?” I asked. “He's a madman with an evil mind.”
“Dr Shrinker,” he repeated.
“Dr Shrinker,” I said. “He's as crazy as you'll ever find.”
“You are too young to know that show,” Dr Shrinker told me.
“Nonsense,” I replied. “I've seen The Wizard of Oz a thousand times and that came out before my parents were born.”
“How do you feel about The Twilight Zone?” Dr Shrinker asked me.
“One of my favorite TV shows ever,” I answered.
“Good,” Dr Shrinker replied. “Submitted for your approval, you are about to take a trip to docility and acquiescence, whose boundaries are that of my imagination.”
“I don't approve,” I said.
“That is just a catch phrase,” Dr Shrinker told me. “Submitted for your approval. You do not have a choice.”
“But he only said it in three episodes,” I told him.
“Is that true?” Dr Shrinker asked.
“You tell me,” I answered. “You're the one in my brain.”
“First, we have to test the connection.” He walked around the dentist's chair and stood in front of me.
“You don't look like Dr Shrinker,” I said.
“I am Dr Wei now,” he replied.
“Wei?” I repeated before laughing. “喂, 幹嘛?”
“Wiggle your toes,” he instructed while looking at the remote control in his hand. When I wiggled my toes, he smiled. “Excellent.”
Dr Wei unstrapped one of my legs and told me to raise and lower it, which I did. We repeated the process with the other leg, then each arm. Though I was fully aware of following his commands, I felt that I had no control over my actions. Once my limbs were free from their shackles, I wanted to grab the remote control out of his hand and run out of the room, but my body would not let me.
It was only after he removed the Target sheet that I noticed I was not wearing any clothes.
“Why am I naked?” I asked Dr Wei.
“I just performed major surgery,” he answered. “Have you ever had brain surgery with clothes on?”
“Not that I know of,” I answered.
“I have clothes for you.” He used the remote control to make me stand up from the dentist's chair and walk toward a table on the opposite side of the room. “Put those on.”
I picked up the gray UCLA sweatshirt and put it on without a bra. Next was the plaid skirt without panties and, still standing, I put on the sneakers without socks.
“Do you have an issue with underwear?” I asked Dr Wei.
“Now I think we are ready to go outside,” he did not answer.
“Am I supposed to be a student or something?” I asked. “This is a terrible look.”
When we walked out of the Hollywood United Methodist Church on Franklin and Highland, the bright daylight hurt my eyes.
“How long was I in there?” I asked Dr Wei.
“Surgery takes time,” he answered.
We walked down Franklin Avenue. It was mere minutes before I noticed the Magic Castle.
“Let me guess, you want to saw me in half,” I said.
“I had not considered going here,” Dr Wei replied. “But that is not a bad idea.”
Inside the Magic Castle, a magician was performing. We slipped quietly into the audience. When the magician asked for volunteers, Dr Wei volunteered me. Rather than saw me in half, the magician wanted me to levitate. The trick was simple enough, and since Dr Wei controlled my actions, absolutely nothing was required of me.
When the magician asked me to lie down on a small table, Dr Wei had me lie down. When the magician removed the table and I appeared to float, I thought less about how the effect was achieved and more about the fact that I was not wearing any underwear. While my body was levitating, thanks to the real table that the audience could not see, the back of my skirt fell freely. The audience was to my left, but anyone standing at my feet would see more than a magic show.
“I was hoping they would put you in a water tank,” Dr Wei said as we walked away from the Magic Castle.
“Someone from the audience can't do that,” I told him. “You have to know how the trick is done.”
We walked down one of the small streets that headed south. At a nondescript apartment building, Dr Wei had us walk through the front door.
“How did you open that?” I asked him.
“Magic,” he answered.
“It must not have been locked,” I said.
Once in the building, we walked into an apartment.
“Who lives here?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” he answered. “This is a random sampling.”
In the bedroom, Dr Wei had me rummage through the dressers and drawers.
“That will do,” he said as he had me pick up a bottle of nail polish remover.
“I'm not wearing nail polish,” I said.
“It is not for you,” he replied.
Dr Wei had me pour the bottle on the bed. Once it was empty, we went into the kitchen. Tearing through the cupboards, he had me pick up a bag of flour and box of matches. Back in the bedroom, I poured the flour around the edges of the bed.
“That is perfect,” he said.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Manipulating your movement is a basic process,” he answered. “I want to see if I can make you do something you find morally objectionable.”
When I took a match out of the box, I knew exactly what he wanted me to do.
“This is crazy,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “The experiment would be tainted if you were a pyromaniac.”
I lit the match and dropped it onto the bed. When the fumes from the nail polish remover caught on fire, we both took a few steps back. When the flour started to explode, we left the bedroom.
“You didn't have to do that,” I told Dr Wei.
“But now we know,” he replied.
When we turned onto Hollywood Boulevard, I was relieved that it was still daytime. With the sun out, I looked like a student with no fashion sense. At night on Hollywood Boulevard, people might get the wrong idea.
When a double decker sightseeing bus drove toward us, Dr Wei had me lift the sweatshirt up to my neck.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“Giving them something better to look at than liquor stores and souvenir shops.” He put my sweatshirt back down and we continued walking.
While I did not look forward to dozens of pictures on Facebook of me flashing a tour bus, he had a point. Hollywood Boulevard was not the most photogenic street in the world.
“Why do tourists even come here?” Dr Wei asked.
“The same reason they go to Times Square,” I answered. “It's not what they've always imagined it would be, but they don't know that.”
Like Times Square, today's Hollywood Boulevard was more tourist shopping than what I remembered from a visit years ago. Larger companies probably made more money from this version, but any charm that might have seeped through the old surface was long gone.
At Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Dr Wei started looking at the stars on the sidewalk. In front of the Dolby Theatre, he had some instructions for me.
“I am telling you what I will have you do because I do not want any undue reaction,” he said. “There is no need to draw attention to yourself.”
“I just flashed a tour bus,” I pointed out.
“This will be different,” he replied. “You are going to urinate on one of these Hollywood stars.”
“You're crazy,” I said.
“This is a good test,” he told me. “I can have you move your extremities, but can I manipulated your internal organs?”
Dr Wei had me stop and I looked down to see Julie Andrews' star.
“Not her,” I protested. “She's a national treasure.”
“Very well.” He looked at the sidewalk. “How about this one? I think he would like it.”
Dr Wei had me stand over Bill Cosby's star and squat down. I looked around, but only a few of the tourists walking the streets even noticed my existence. Until Dr Wei pressed a button on his remote control and I started to rain down on the serial rapist's tarnished name. Faster than a click, every cell phone on the block was pointed at me. If I thought flashing my tits at a tour bus would end up on Facebook, these videos would be everywhere.
Dr Wei smiled as he watched the crowd watching me. “Very good. Is your heart beating faster?”
“Not at all,” I answered. There was nothing I could do to stop his experiment. I could not even cover my face.
“Because I can control that as well,” he told me. “You are neither nervous nor afraid because I am keeping you calm.”
“I can tell all of these people what you're doing,” I threatened him.
“And who would believe you?” he asked me.
“They can see you have the remote control,” I pointed out.
“It resembles their own cell phones,” he replied. “What I am doing, from their point of view, is not different from what they are doing. No one is suspicious of someone who is doing the same thing.”
When there was nothing left inside me to cause further embarrassment, Dr Wei had me stand up and bow to the crowd. Mostly confused, some of them applauded. All of them went back to sightseeing as soon as they realized the show was over.
“But you make a valid point,” Dr Wei said. “I should have plugged in your mouth as well. Controlling your movements is not enough.”
When we turned onto Highland Avenue, I immediately recognized the church where all of this began.
“Back to the laboratory,” Dr Wei said.
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