Fic: It's torture, Jim. Just not as we know it.
If nothing else, he had to give these people credit for originality.
"Poke him again!" Ximinez ordered. Biggles grinned, and prodded Jim stomach with a frilly pink pillow.
"Ow," Jim said, in complete deadpan. "No. Stop."
"You want us to stop!" Ximinez crowed. "Well then, we'll move on. Fang! Fetch... the comfy chair!"
Jim gave him a long, level look and wished fervently that he could figure out what his angle was. Did this sort of thing normally hurt the people of this world? And what exactly had he done to bring this down upon himself again?
"You will sit," Ximinez ordered, as Biggles unshackled him from the wall and deposited him in what looked to be an overstuffed armchair. "Here, until lunch time, with only one cup of coffee served at eleven."
"Will there be sugar in that coffee?" Jim asked.
"What is this? A plea for mercy?" Ximinez chortled. There was no other word for it. He actually chortled. "Well you will have no mercy: there shall be sugar and cream!"
"Oh the horrors," Jim stated.
"But you can avoid that!" Ximinez declared. "Just confess! Confess! Confess! Confess! Con..."
Sometime around "Confess!" number sixty Jim nodded off into a light doze that lasted until Spock broke down the door to his cell. In his defense, it was a really comfortable chair.
"Poke him again!" Ximinez ordered. Biggles grinned, and prodded Jim stomach with a frilly pink pillow.
"Ow," Jim said, in complete deadpan. "No. Stop."
"You want us to stop!" Ximinez crowed. "Well then, we'll move on. Fang! Fetch... the comfy chair!"
Jim gave him a long, level look and wished fervently that he could figure out what his angle was. Did this sort of thing normally hurt the people of this world? And what exactly had he done to bring this down upon himself again?
"You will sit," Ximinez ordered, as Biggles unshackled him from the wall and deposited him in what looked to be an overstuffed armchair. "Here, until lunch time, with only one cup of coffee served at eleven."
"Will there be sugar in that coffee?" Jim asked.
"What is this? A plea for mercy?" Ximinez chortled. There was no other word for it. He actually chortled. "Well you will have no mercy: there shall be sugar and cream!"
"Oh the horrors," Jim stated.
"But you can avoid that!" Ximinez declared. "Just confess! Confess! Confess! Confess! Con..."
Sometime around "Confess!" number sixty Jim nodded off into a light doze that lasted until Spock broke down the door to his cell. In his defense, it was a really comfortable chair.