Corruption Stew

Contains graphic violence

In the offices of the FBI, a corruption probe was going down. As Ferdinand and her men and women intensified the search for the rogue Agent Stanley, they discovered that he'd taken a few others into this, as well. This treachery reached several stories up the bureaucratic level, ensnaring some high-profile administrative officials in its web. And it seemed that either Carter Hadley or Carl Hauser, whoever they were, pulled the strings.

One by one, the corrupt officials were hauled into custody. A few blubbered that the one to whom they answered had threatened them and their families. More jumped at the chance to make deals, giving up information in exchange for lighter sentences. All denied knowing Stanley's whereabouts or the existence of a Carter Hadley or a Carl Hauser. All were speedily tried, fired from their jobs and sentenced to hard time in a federal prison. Yet even with the tumor of corruption excised from their agency, the FBI still knew nothing about Stanley or Carter Hadley or Carl Hauser.

But one did.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

A train pulled into Sarasaland Station, emptying its load of passengers and taking on a new load. Among the freshly arrived was a dapper, clean-shaven man in a 3-piece navy suit and carrying a sophisticated briefcase. This was ex-Agent Phillip Stanley.

Escorted by two Primids, Stanley proceeded to the hotel suite already paid for by "Carter Hadley", a.k.a. Crazy Hand. As soon as he was settled in, the Primids told him to meet them downstairs for dinner at 6:30 sharp and then departed.

Unbeknownst to them, a woman on that train had recognized Stanley by sight. And this woman just so happened to be Chrysanthemum, one of Daisy's ladies-in-waiting! She kept to herself till she got to Daisy's castle.

"It seems that Stanley intends to hide out here in Sarasaland," said Chrys.

"Well that's stupid," mused Daisy. "Does he know that its ruler is the girlfriend of the one he's targeted?"

"Maybe not. Shall I send word to him?"

"No, thank you. I already have everything arranged," smiled Daisy. "Good work, Chrys. Expect a hefty bonus in your paycheck at the end of the month."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Later that day, at the support group meeting, the attendees had already formed a circle, waiting for Dr. Thorpe to arrive.

"L," whispered Caroline, "can I tell you something?"

"Sure," said Luigi.

Caroline beckoned him over to the snack area. "Remember when I talked about how I cut the hair off of one of my bullies?"

"Yeah," nodded Luigi. "That was something else."

"Well, I didn't stop there," smiled Caroline. "In between my studies at Purdue, I tracked down every last one of Brittany's friends and shaved them all bald. I did it slowly and before a mirror, so they can watch me steal their beauty from them. And whenever they closed their eyes or looked away, well—that's where I really had fun."

"Wow," breathed Luigi. "You have this down to a science. But—why tell me?"

Caroline shrugged. "Why not? You're the only one who understands why I did it."

Luigi clasped her hand in his. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks," blushed Caroline.

"There's a chance they'll tell on you, though," warned Luigi.

"I told them what would happen if they did," smiled Caroline, "and when I was done—I gouged their eyes out."

Luigi smiled back. "I like you, Caroline. I like you a lot."

They returned to the circle and sat at their seats, exchanging an askance, knowing look before Dr. Thorpe walked in and greeted everyone.

Should I tell her?

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

In Sarasaland, Phillip Stanley was still in his bed, dozing, dreaming about relaxing on some beach with a gaggle of bikini-clad ladies—tending—to him. A dream that would never come to pass, because at that moment, the Sarasaland PD had just arrived at the hotel.

He was startled awake when they broke down his door. Bolting upright, he found himself staring down an army of uniformed officers. "Oh, [bleep]!"

"Phillip Stanley, we have a warrant for your arrest," said the lead officer.

"On what charges?" Stanley indignantly demanded.

"Embezzlement, impersonating a federal agent and obstruction of justice, for starters."

"That's ridiculous! Somebody set me up!" cried Stanley.

"Save it for the trial," scoffed another officer as the disgraced former agent was hauled out of bed and cuffed.

The lead officer read Stanley his rights as they marched him out of the building and into a police van, where a few other co-conspirators sat in cuffs.

"Enjoy the ride," said the officers before shutting the door after Stanley.

Sirens wailed as two police cars escorted the van to the station.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Once the van arrived at the precinct, the crooks were marched inside, processed and fingerprinted. But while everyone else went to a holding cell, Howard was turned over to the Sarasaland Royal Guard, who took him straight to Daisy's castle.

They entered through a side door and gave him a bath set. "Thirty minutes to make yourself presentable," they said before leaving him.

Stanley showered quickly, washed his face and shaved before dressing in a brand new tuxedo. Half an hour later, the guards came for him and led him to Daisy's court.

Daisy herself had also freshened up for the arrival. Her face was dolled up, and she wore a one-shoulder mini-dress. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a vibrant turquoise, her auburn hair was in a sophisticated updo, and she'd applied a few spritzes of perfume. Now, she stood there, a stony look in her eyes, as her guards approached with Stanley.

"Thank you," she told her guards when Stanley was before her. "You may leave us."

The guards obliged, and Daisy turned to face her "guest". "Phillip Stanley, I presume?"

Stanley bowed ironically to her. "Princess," he responded.

"Do you know why I had you brought here?" asked Daisy.

"Because you expect me to grovel and beg for mercy?"

Daisy smiled. "No, Mr. Stanley, I expect you to dine."

She led him to a table, where her attendants set out a magnificent feast.

"Please, sit," she invited.

Stanley sat across from Daisy at the table, and the two helped themselves to the banquet before them.

Noticing the dainty way the ex-agent was eating, Daisy blushed. "There's no sense in trying to impress anyone," she said. "You must be hungry."

Stanley looked at her—and began scarfing down his food. He, in fact, was starving, and the food was delicious.

The Flower Princess poured wine for the two of them. "Try our wine," she said, giving one of the large wine glasses to Stanley.

Stanley narrowed his eyes. "It's poisoned," he said warily.

Daisy chuckled. "It would be pointless to kill you, Mr. Stanley."

"Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I am acting as an agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend, Luigi Mario," explained Daisy.

"More acquaintance than friend," shrugged Stanley. "What does he have that I want?"

Daisy raised her wine glass. "Mercy," she simply replied, taking a sip.

"Really? Very kind of him, seeing that I already face jail time," said Stanley.

"By your efforts, Howard and his friends were set free," Daisy told him. "They have already been taken care of, but now I would like you to name all of their accomplices, their locations and their current activities."

"Name names—under political duress?" scoffed Stanley.

"Bargain," corrected Daisy, "to our mutual benefit and fair value."

She removed a piece of paper from her clasp and slid it over to him. Stanley opened it to find a commission for a member of the Royal Guard.

"My love and I offer what equates a full pardon," said Daisy. "You will be free, a guardsman in my employ. You'll get free food, a place to stay, a flat-screen TV, access to the pool and sports areas, a Nintendo Switch, a laptop and a tablet, and most of all, you will come to no harm."

"Somehow I doubt employment in your castle is the same as being free."

"Bullies are a dying breed, Mr. Stanley," said Daisy. "The world is shrinking, the various kingdoms and cities in the Nintendo verse connected via cell phones and the Internet. Grant's other tormentors must find a place in this new world, or perish. Not unlike you, my friend. You face life imprisonment for the crimes you committed, and you'd better pray you're sentenced before my love finds you."

"I suppose that you'll also want me to apologize for what happened to Grant," said Stanley.

"The terms of this arrangement require nothing from you but information," purred Daisy.

"Information," repeated Stanley. "Now—that would be a problem. You see, the entity to whom I answer has me on a very tight leash. And I've entered into a blood contract with him, so to speak—the only way out of it is for my heart to stop beating. I risk physical harm, even death, if I betray him."

"Do you, now?" Daisy arched an eyebrow.

"He has my family."

"Which is greater incentive for you to confess. I promise that I will do everything I can to help rescue them."

"Don't bother—that's already been taken care of." Stanley gulped down some more wine. "We have a deal—no loose ends. So—out of great concern for my safety—I must respectfully decline your offer."

"Mr. Stanley—what have I done to you to deserve this disrespectful treatment? What has my love done to you? I invite you into my castle, I feed you—we both offer you forgiveness and friendship for the simple price of honesty—and you spit in our faces."

"Look, I want to confess, but I can't. Agreeing to work with this man is a mistake I can't reverse."

"We can protect you."

"I'll take my chances, thank you. I'm no rat, and I'm certainly not bait."

"We're not asking you to be bait."

"I'm sorry, Princess. I know you mean well, but my hands are tied." Stanley moved to rise from his chair. "Thank you for the meal, though. Please sent my compliments to the chef."

Daisy gazed at Stanley, the picture of outward calm. She carefully wiped her fork on her cloth napkin. Suddenly, she lunged forward like a cat and drove the fork into Stanley's hand, violently twisting it.

Stanley screamed.

"I knew you'd say 'no'," said Daisy, still in a calm, dulcet voice.

Then, Stanley felt something embed itself into the back of his neck. His head fell forward and landed in his dish with a splat.

He was out within seconds.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

When Stanley first began to awaken, the first thing he noticed was the sting in the back of his neck. The second thing he noticed was his inability to touch it, as his hands and feet were bound. The third thing he noticed was that he was laying on his belly on some sort of board suspended over a bathtub. The fourth thing he noticed was that he was naked, his loins dangling from a circular opening on the board. And the last thing he noticed was that a watering hose was inside the tub.

There was a slight gurgle as the hose came to life, filling the tub with dirty water. The water level rose until it was about inches from Stanley's nose. That murky, brown substance shouldn't be called water. It looked horrible and smelled worse. Stanley heaved and gagged.

He started at the sound of footsteps. "Daisy?" he asked blearily.

"Unfortunately not," responded a distinctively male, accented voice.

Slowly, Stanley looked up at the speaker and wished he was anywhere but here.

Luigi stood in the room, clad in a pair of overalls and no shirt, staring eagerly at his new prey. His hands were clasped behind his back, as if hiding something. A calm look was on his face as he approached Stanley, and the former agent already knew that this was bad news for him!

"How's it going, Stanley?" Luigi casually asked.

Then, he revealed the thing behind his back, an aluminum bat with thorns wrapped around it, and started swinging it at Stanley, screaming in anger. Stanley grunted each time the weapon made contact with his body, the thorns embedding themselves into his skin and tearing along the flesh. Luigi attacked the sides first before laying into the back, arms and legs and finally the face and shoulders and part of the chest. Once he was finished with that, he grabbed a bottle of vinegar and rubbed it deep into the wounds before stepping back and observing the man in absolute agony.

"Misery, misery, misery—that's what you've chosen," said Luigi. "I offer to save you, and you spit in my face."

He shifted his hold on the bat and slammed it full-force into Stanley's package, and just as he drew in a breath for a scream, Luigi hit him there over and over. By the time he was done, Stanley was a weeping, sniffling heap.

"Please…" he croaked out.

"'Please' what?" snapped Luigi.

"Please—stop…"

"Stop? Like the way Grant asked your friends to stop?" hissed Luigi, grabbing the back of Stanley's head and shoving his face underwater.

Stanley thrashed and gurgled as he tried to shake his head free of Luigi's grip. Globs of mud got in his face and on his nose, and it was dark. Just as he felt an ache rise in his chest, Luigi pulled his head back out.

"They just (dunk) didn't (dunk) stop (dunk)!"

Stanley was spluttering and gagging, coughing up dirty water and muck.

"You know, this isn't the first time this happened to me," said Luigi, forcefully dunking Stanley after every sentence. "Last year, it was discovered that a police chief was on the payroll of one of my tormentors. He was caught trying to break two vandals out of lockup. But you—you take the cake. Using your credentials to lie and get these monsters immunity—the freedom to do what they wanted without punishment—you're even lower than that chief! And you even pretended that you were still with the FBI, and furthermore, you were one of Grant's bullies. Wow—you really didn't like him, did you?"

Weakly, Stanley shook his head "no".

Luigi dunked him one last time and then punched him in the face until he felt Stanley's jaw splinter.

"I know Crazy Hand paid you to set this in motion," he said in a low, controlled voice. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," moaned Stanley.

Luigi hurled the leftover vinegar into his face. "I said—where is he?"

"I told you, I don't know! What am I, his keeper?"

Luigi seized his head with both hands and shoved his face to the bottom of the tub, smushing it against the mud collected there. Then, he yanked him back up, scooped up a handful of mud from the bottom and forced it into Stanley's mouth.

"You thirsty?" he asked. "Take a big drink!"

"I swear, I don't know where he is! He never told me where he was going!"

Luigi shoveled more mud into Stanley's mouth before releasing him and stepping out of his line of vision, returning seconds later wearing a pair of safety gloves and carrying a bucket of white, powdery solution, clearly identified on the front of the bucket as lye.

"Oh, God," said Stanley. "No. No—no—no—no—no—no! Please, no! I'll do anything!"

"Too late," shrugged Luigi. "A lifetime too late."

He dumped some of the lye into the water, where it dissolved with an ominous fizz, and then grabbed Stanley's head and shoved it back under. The corrupt former agent felt the skin burning and shredding from his face, as if millions of flesh-eating bugs were eating off it.

Luigi pulled Stanley back up and smiled as pink globs of flesh oozed from the latter's face and plopped into the lye-saturated water. Then, he dunked him back in. Over and over. Stanley's face bubbled and melted away, leaving nothing but a misshapen lump with eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth. After one final dunk, Luigi forced Stanley to look at him.

"Death is too kind for you," he said, "so, here's the deal. I'm keeping you alive for two reasons. The first reason is for information."

"Go [bleep] yourself! I'll tell you nothing!" gurgled Stanley.

Luigi filled a large bucket with fresh water and mixed some more lye in it. "But I am gonna ask you questions. And each time you refuse to answer, I burn something. I will make it so that everyone you bump into will cringe at your hideousness." He plopped a washcloth into the mixture and swirled it around to get it nice and saturated before lifting it up and holding it over Stanley's back. "I want to know everything about Crazy Hand and his remaining accomplices. What they've been doing. Where they're hiding. Who they are. Who else they've targeted. And how much they've been paid."

He pressed the washcloth onto Stanley's back and began rubbing in the dissolved lye with slow circles. Stanley thrashed, but it did no good. Horrid burns and sores appeared on his back, skin plopping off in globules.

"Well?"

"I swear—I know nothing!"

"That's what they all say," Luigi said softly, dipping the cloth back into the bucket and vigorously rubbing it down all four of Stanley's limbs. Dissolved skin began puddling on the floor around the tub.

"But most importantly—who helped Crazy Hand escape?"

He removed the boards supporting Stanley's chest and torso and dunked the upper body into the lye-filled tub. Stanley flopped about furiously as foam, flesh and fat materialized on the water's surface. By now, his body was covered in horrible blisters and lesions. As far as Luigi was concerned, that was for the best.

The plumber drained the tub, removed the hose, and replaced it with a new one, which presently filled the tub with considerably cleaner water. However, Stanley was given no time to appreciate it, as Luigi began scooping in lye even before the tub was finished filling. Then, he pushed both his face and upper body in, one hand holding it in place while the other once again saturated the cloth and closed it around Stanley's package.

Now, there was a forest fire raging in between Stanley's legs.

Luigi rubbed the washcloth all over the package again and again before removing another board and dipping the whole thing in. Then, he yanked Stanley's head back up and replaced the boards across his upper chest so that only his lower body was beneath the waterline.

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Please, take it out! Please!"

"Then answer my questions, or you'll have nothing left to impress a woman with."

"I'm telling you, he never told me anything!"

Luigi rubbed the lye powder directly into the un-submerged portions of Stanley's body. Then, he delicately lifted the long-suffering loins before rubbing the granules around them, as well. He gave them a good squeeze and a good few twists until Stanley blubbered, "All right! All right!"

"I'm listening," said Luigi, whipping off the safety gloves.

"It was all his idea! He wanted revenge on you for banishing him to the Minus World! Somehow, Howard and his friends found out about him and helped him escape. Then, they teamed up, knowing that they could get to you through Grant! I decided to get in on it after the arrest, getting them immunity under false pretenses. But I swear to you, I didn't know about what they had planned on the night of the gala!"

"And was anyone else involved in this?"

"No—just us, scout's honor!"

Luigi slid on a dry pair of safety gloves and dipped one fist into the lye powder.

"Somehow," he murmured, "I don't believe you." He jammed the lye-covered fist in and began pounding it into him with all his might.

Tearing and prickling pain surged through Stanley both from without and from within.

"I told you everything!" whined Stanley. "Please—just let me go!"

"I'm afraid that's not an option," said Luigi as he continued to drive his fist inside him. "As I've mentioned before, I'm allowing you to keep your wicked life for two reasons. And the second and by far most pivotal reason is—I want you to go to your accomplices and tell them everything that happened to you today. I want them to witness the extent of my mercy by witnessing your disfigured body. I want them to know what I know. I want them to know that I want them to know. And—I want them to know that they all face the same fate."

He yanked out the fist and picked up the bat wrapped with thorns.

Stanley began reciting a Hail Mary, but Luigi just hefted the bat in his hands and positioned it before he—

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Daisy sat in her living room, seemingly oblivious of the events taking place, listening to 90s hits on her iPhone, eyes closed. She moved only to refill her glass of wine or make herself more comfortable. Of course, Stanley would turn down her generous proposal. She counted on him doing so. Because doing so would allow Luigi to punish him accordingly before sending him off to jail, where hopefully the inmates would punish him further. But they probably wouldn't want him after Luigi was through with him—

Heck, the people who snubbed her deserved worse than they got. She'd wanted to personally hunt them down and lock them in a torture chamber, but she couldn't. She couldn't bear to let her people see her like that. What Luigi did to that turncoat financier slightly rattled her, but she got over it. So what if it was wrong? It sure beat out the thought of them watching cable TV on the government's dime or enjoying free gym memberships. If bullies got a taste of their own medicine, perhaps they wouldn't be so quick to do what they did.

Daisy removed her earbuds, picked up her wine glass, rose from her seat and glided toward the next room, where she could hear Stanley's screams. She stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, and watched the action unfold. Stanley lay naked on a series of boards over a bathtub, wrists and ankles tied, screaming like a stuck pig. Luigi stood behind him, plunging what appeared to be a baseball bat in and out. The ex-agent was covered in burns, the flesh practically melted from his body, and blood was pouring from his cavity, which only made Luigi thrust the bat harder. Her gaze played over the bound man, savoring everything.

When her eyes met his, she saw the pleading and entreating in them. That he was sorry, that he took everything back, that he was willing to betray his co-conspirators to her. That he'd tell her everything she wanted to know, everything she wanted to hear. That he'd gladly trade this life and become one of her servants. That he'd kiss the ground she walked on. He'd do anything for her from now on, if she just got Luigi to stop.

The Flower Princess returned the look with a cold, unforgiving one, drained her wine glass in one gulp and walked away from him, leaving him at the mercy of her mustachioed man in green.

There was little of it to be found for him.

Please read and review.