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Show 81. "See how susceptible you are? You can even read my mind!" "Okay, so I know you've got a book on hypnotism. But you're not a doctor. Something could go wrong." Chic detected a wavering in JD's protest. "Look! Let's do it tonight! We could pick up Stephanie. It'd be better with a third person. She can act as witness to everything and be there . . . in case." "When we get home? You're nuts! She'll be sound asleep." "So? We wake her up." "Yeah, but then, where could we do it? We couldn't stay at my house. Dad would throw us out." Chic thought a minute. He rarely took friends to his place. There were eight other kids besides him, which meant things were always a mess. Then, too, his father was either drunk or on the way most of the time. "Let's go to the shop," Chic said finally. "The service station closed at ten. We'll just go into the back and pull down the shades." Chic had found a dozen dandy used for the workshop where he fixed bikes and trikes and toasters and people's radios. Marvin's Garage, the establishment was called out front, but his own unobtrusive sign, chalked on a Coca Cola blackboard, read "Chic's Cyclery." He made just enough to pay the rent and keep his car running. Some days he had grand notions about increasing his profit, then somebody would give him an old engine and he'd get hooked on rebuilding it. The bikes would sit and grow spidery until he got back to them. "Sure," Chic went on, "let's go to the shop. It wouldn't take an hour. It's always nice and warm in there." "What if you can't put me under?" "What have we got to lose?" "Okay, Wilcox, but if you mess up my subconscious . . ." Chic went into the spasm of gleeful laughter that preceded his mad doctor routine. "Floyd Freud-heh, heh, heh!--will diset your libido and bisect your id. He'll squeeze all the juices out of your ego, too." "I must be crazy to do this!" JD shook his head. Naturally, they found JD's sister in bed fast asleep when they got home, later than they expected. The school bus had slowed to a crawl |