Interview - A Dream

I was invited to a TV studio for a morning TV program. It looked like a place I had been to before. I'd been invited by a TV show producer to talk about the Damnation Army.

I walked onto the soundstage, fully expecting this to be a massive hatchet job, the TV producer talking out of his hat, making up stories ... the usual. I saw an audience in the dark, out there past all the spotlights, but I didn't know if they were there to jeer or to cheer. Jeer, I assumed - television these days have a habit of doing hatchet jobs because hatchet jobs are lucrative and bring in the ratings.

I was talking to a male and a female TV presenter. Typical ITV daytime television presenter types - he looked far older than he was, and I swear his hair had been dyed silver to make him look older, and the woman had a wide face, wide smile, slim body with heavy breasts because the ratings soar when she just sits back and lets them strain against the fabric of her blouse.

The first question, from the Male Presenter, was 'How does it feel to command a cult that brainwashes children?'

And I replied 'I wouldn't know. I don't brainwash children, and my people don't either.'

Male Presenter: 'But you do brainwash young adults.'

Me: 'I don't brainwash anybody, child or adult, and neither do my people.'

Female Presenter: 'Then what do you do?'

Me: 'I teach them to see through the hogwash and lies.'

Male Presenter: 'What hogwash? What lies?'

Me: 'The lies that keep people coming back to television shows like this. The reassuring lies that All Is Well In The World; that Good Guys Win and Bad Guys Lose; that you lot out there in telly land are the Good Guys, and We Are On Your Side (cheeky wink, thumbs up to the cameras); and that people will never be better than who they are now, all nine to five, Monday to Friday with two days off for good behaviour at the end of each week; because "good" in society is meant to be seen to be "busy" or "productive" rather than actually good as in "compassionate."'

Female Presenter: 'And do you see that as your mission? Is it your idea, or did God send you?'

Me: 'Mission? Interesting term. Is it a mission like something out of a spy thriller, a "Mission: Impossible?" Or a mission like the "Mission of Mercy Chapel?" I never thought of being on a mission before. Thank you for giving me the idea.'

Male Presenter: 'But do you think this is right? What if you are wrong, and there is a dark place for you after you die?'

Me: 'Is that a death threat you just made?'

Male Presenter: 'I - I - I didn't mean to -'

Female Presenter: 'It did sound a bit like that, yes.'

Male Presenter: 'Oh my god, I am sorry. I didn't mean -'

Me: 'That's quite all right. It was a Freudian slip. I was going to hypnotically command you to remove all of your clothes during the interview, but it's not necessary. You just humiliated yourself, and I'm glad you saved me the effort.'

Female Presenter (leaning forwards): 'Command me to remove all my clothes? How?'

Me: 'I could just snap my fingers and you'd do it, all the way down to Not Safe For Work.'

Male Presenter: 'When? How? Did you put suggestions in our minds at some point?'

Me: 'No. I am hypnotising you both right now.' *snap fingers*

Male Presenter: *closes eyes; enters deep trance immediately*

Female Presenter: *slumps onto sofa with slight moan of arousal and huge smile*

Me: *looking to camera* 'And how about all of you out there, in telly land? Are you still watching, or are you falling into a trance right now? You've been watching television for years - you're already more than halfway there. Just a matter of letting go a little more. That's good. And we're staying on the air for a while, and not cutting to adverts just yet, because you know something?' *to female presenter* 'Unbutton your blouse.'

Female Presenter: *unbuttons her blouse*

Me: *looking back at the cameras* 'I bet the producers will keep this segment of the show going as long as possible, because right now the figures show there must be twenty, thirty million viewers watching, tranced or untranced, and those viewing figures are now only going to get bigger.' *to female presenter* 'Now remove your blouse. Oh, look at that. She never wears a bra.'

Fame At Last?

Fun dream this morning. News of my blog Hypnotic Erotic had hit the front pages of a number of national newspapers. They were talking about Hypnotic Erotic on mainstream TV, trying to bite their tongues every time the word "erotic" came up in conversation.

One daytime TV show had the word "erotic" spoken forty times in two minutes. Two thousand outraged phone calls complaining about this, most of them from panting, sexually aroused Hausfrauen clutching copies of the Daily Mail in their free hand. I think it was a record for this word. Oh, and they were also complaining about the word "orgasm" spoken three times in thirty seconds or something.

Presumably these were all Mums whose kids were at school or something.

This was the month that Hypnotic Erotic went from a mere 50,000 page views to 500,000 page views in the space of three days, and my inbox marked emails from 350 brand new freshly-hypnotised clients a day. I was having to send mass emails to those clients, and suddenly my Skype time was at a premium. Fortunately, enough donations were coming in to my sites that I could afford to enjoy a life of leisure, filling my blogs with scripts and testing the waters at leisure without having to worry about getting money in to pay the bills. I was even able to build my Temple and open my Ministry at last.

After a few weeks of this, I got invited to a daytime TV show, This Morning - Phil Schofield and Holly Willoughby. Unbeknown to them, I'd tranced both them and the producer - so when I said a trigger word, a Pied Piper began playing over the air, and in the studio. Half a million people began uncontrollably dancing wherever they were, as long as they could hear the funky music: and in the studio, Holly and Phil had also got up and started dancing to the irresistible beat, and were taking off their clothes in front of the cameras.

I just love my crazy dreams.

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