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As Foggy as Can Be

He was in a world of hurt and he knew it. Looking up from the bottom of the sea, he could see the distant light of the sun shining down upon him. He should be dead, he thought. He knew his bones were broken. He had been thrown from an airplane and had fallen into the sea.

The pain was intense. He thought he was dead as he floated down to the bottom of the sea, but his mind still functioned.

"Test subject 13-56-C is remarkable," he heard a voice say. It sounded like it was coming from a line through a tin can.

Max looked around. He knew that if he opened his mouth and called out a sea of salt would come in and drown him. But he couldn't understand how he was holding his breath for this long...

He was floating there, like a bump on a log. Waiting for death to take him, but why was death taking his time? Why must he suffer like this? Why?

"Reset the program," he heard the faint voice say. "This time add variable pattern Beta."

Max cracked open his left eye; he thought he saw white blobs in front of him. Could they be jellyfish? He chuckled to himself as a Spongebob Squarepants scene entered his mind. The chuckle made him hurt more; he knew his insides were messed up.

"We are getting active brain patterns, Dr. Morganfokker," a voice said.

"Neural wipe, now!" Morganfokker shouted, just as Max's eyes opened in the chamber.

Max saw through the sea and into a clear tube; he was floating like one of those specimens you see in a jar, the ones you see in a school's biology lab. And like a magical dissolve of a camera effect in a movie, Max awoke in a stateroom.

His eyes flickered open and he took in the sights around him. He was lying in his bed, a shaft of light creeping across the floor like a lightsaber. He attempted to sit up but his head was swimming.

His mind was foggy and felt like he had spent the night out, and why shouldn't it? Wasn't he out last night clubbing? He remembered dancing, and the lights. But there was something else... something he should be remembering, but what?

"Morganfokker," Max whispered, as he sat up in the bed. The name had escaped from his lips like a afterthought.

What the fokk is a Morganfokker? he thought.