Wild-eyed wasn't a flattering look on Mick. He was trussed like a turkey, and duct tape covered his mouth.
The stranger stood back, studying him. "You know, Mick? I'm worried about you. You have that mottled look. Any history of hypertension in your family?"
Mick struggled and protested but only garbles got past the duct tape.
"You really should take more care. Treat yourself better. Body, temple, and all that. No matter. I think I have just the solution. A day of beauty!" The intruder raised Mick's own pint of Scotch in salute, and took another haul.
Mick flailed, shaking his head. "UhNNph."
The stranger stroked his scraggly beard. "How we feel on the inside is so important. Don't you agree? Difficult with a rotted soul, I know, but I'm nothing if not optimistic! Set small goals! We'll set aside all the people you've screwed, women you've exploited, dollars you've stolen, lies you've told - we'll set that all aside. For a minute." He removed a pan from his satchel, and filled it with water at the vanity. He plugged in the hot plate, and then then turned back to Mick. "Let's get these restrictive clothes off you."
Mick shook his head, frantically, eyes bulging.
"Don't be silly! One can't fully experience hot stone massage with clothes on ..."
Chairman of the AbhorredChairman of the Abhorred II
Chairman of the Abhorred III
Chairman of the Abhorred V