Tuesday, 16 July 2013

Memoirs of a one year old - Chapter 3

Memoirs of a one year old - Chapter 3
16 July 2013

Welcome back again to my memoirs.  Recording my very first year of life.  Having dealt with mobility, manipulation and bowel movements in Chapter 2, it’s time to move swiftly along to the next heated topic:  Sleep deprivation – a cunning method of mind control.  As well as other effective forms of torture.

In my experience, and partly due to my highly evolved skills of observation, I have come to notice how increasingly erratic the behaviour of the TNC’s (the big ones) become, if they’re deprived of their precious sleep.  In fact, never mind erratic, they become flat out irrational and half crazy.  And hence I naturally identified it as a very cunning method of mind control.  Yet another opportunity for manipulation.  There are so many.  And I must be honest, the TNC’s are not really great at subterfuge.  This was hardly a difficult deduction to make.  Their lack of self-control is rather alarming.  They pretty much wear their hearts on their sleeves.  Sleep deprivation is so easy to enforce, and set in to motion.  Still the knock-on effect is super rewarding.  Sort of a minimum input, for maximum output kind of thing.  And once again, persistence is all important.  A prolonged period of sleep deprivation is key to breaking the spirit of the TNC’s and bending them to your will.  Achieving docility from them is the end goal.  Allowing them to finally acknowledge that you are their one true master, and making them do your bidding.  Be mindful though.  Ensuring that you never allow them more than a two hour period or rest, at any given time of the day or night.  If you follow this strict regimen, you will have them eating out of the palm of your hand within no time at all.  But be vigilant in your quest.  And relentless too.  Don’t take pity on them and back down.  Perseverance is all important.  And whatever you do, don’t succumb to slumber yourself.  Stay awake!

Initially when I had heard “playground talk” at the portal place (The Clinic), that we too would eventually grow fangs, I was most distrustful.  Convinced that this would not be so.  Just because the TNC’s had fangs, didn’t mean that we would grow them too, surely?  We were a different species after all.  Don’t believe me?  Just look at the difference in size between us, as well as the head to body ratio.  Clearly we are far more cognitively gifted than them.  Furthermore, fangs are not necessary for the consumption of milk.  Irrespective of the large quantities thereof.  So can you just imagine my surprise, when I found myself sprouting my very own tusks!  I must admit that the growing of tusks or fangs, was a rather painful process.  Not too bad mind you.  Still I saw the gap for manipulation once more.  And so I hammed it up a bit for my audience.  I don’t like to boast, but I am particularly skilful at producing tears at a whim.  Whenever I so wish.  And pretending that tusk growing was painful, was rather inspired.  It led to the TNC’s gave me yummy biltong.  Big kudos to whoever came up with that little “solution and cure” for painful fangs.  Clearly it’s no cure or solution.  Still it’s damn fine stuff.  I like!  A lot!  A wee bit of misdirection is good for the soul every so often.  And for the gums too.

Other forms of torture:  Now I must confess, I had never intended to get colic.  Honestly.  Nothing could’ve been further from my mind.  But a few days after my arrival through the portal, we went to the portal place (The Clinic), so that I could be weighed and measured once more (I’ve told you before how obsessed they are with physical appearances here).  And while I was there I heard another wise being of my size, boasting about the awesome, personalised treatment he was receiving because of this thing called colic.  I enquired a bit as to what it all entailed, and decided to give it a bash.  Oh.  My.  Word.  It was life changing.  So much attention you would never believe it!  Constantly being held, rocked and soothed.  No pressure to sleep.  Continual offers of milk all the time.  Massages.  Calming music.  The whole enchilada.  In fact, I rather felt like patting myself on the back.  And probably would have, if my arms had been any longer.  And I was double jointed.  My performance was Oscar worthy.  It is a super effective form of torture for the TNC’s.  In fact, you can break them.  Turning them into snivelling, whimpering little puffs of marshmallow – ripe for exploitation.  However I do suspect that I should be mindful of my super powers and not abuse them too much.  I surmise that a combo of sleep deprivation and colic, would end the TNC’s for good.  Which might have dire repercussions, with regards to my milk supply.  And so I try and be cautious and not over abuse these powers.  It’s hard to get just the right balance.  With great power, comes great responsibility.  It is good to remember this.

I am gaining more and more confidence in my TNC speaking abilities.  At night when the TNC’s are sleeping, I tend to practice quite a lot.  I have nearly perfected both “Mamma” and “Dadda”.  And I’m just waiting for the ideal opportunity to unleash my brilliance upon them.  They will be suitably impressed.  Of this I am sure.  If a mere smile could make them turn to mush, a perfectly timed “Mamma” should make them melt into a little puddle.  It is so easy to read them.  In fact, it’s child’s play.

I am becoming more and more concerned that the rumour I had heard at the portal place (The Clinic) might actually be prophetic.  And not much of a rumour at all.  Especially in the light of the fang predictions becoming a reality and turning out to be the truth.  Apparently I will eventually morph into a TNC myself???  I find this really hard to believe.  Attaining such a great size, must be near impossible.  Added to that, I don’t even think we’re from the same species.  Still, I suppose, time will reveal all.  Not that I’m holding my breath. 

For now, I’m perfectly happy with my world.  Content.  Food and drink when I want.  Warm, comfy, cosy.  Completely and utterly adored.  But then again, this is my due.

I can’t blame them for their subservience.  I am ridiculously cute after all.

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