Accidourny.

"Hee hee hee."

The tittering giggle brought Ed back to consciousness.

Miss Books was sitting primly atop Ed's chest, staring down at him. He could see her eyes now.

"Sorry about that Eddie. We do like to have our fun. I'm sure you'd like an explanation now, yes?"

Behind Miss Books the green pseudopod continued to plop out various personalized office supplies. It produced a white mug that said "ED". The giant green phallus seemed to be stifling a laugh. Ed did not feel like laughing.

"I would like to leave, please."

"Oh Eddie, you can't leave."

The giant green phallus let out a hearty chuckle. It hawked out a box of Sequalia Amalgamated stationary.

Ed wanted to scream.

"Eddie, before you pass out again, you may want to consider something. If we had wanted to kill you, we really really could have by now. I could have smashed your brains in with my inkstamp here while you were unconsious like a little girl."

She brandished the inkstamp with a series of quick, brutul motions. There appeared to be an ancient martial art associated with the inkstamp that Ed had been unaware of. She stamped him hard, but not too hard, on his forehead. It left a brand of IDIOT.

"Yes sir, could've smashed your brains like runny omelette."

Miss Books stood and smoothed her sensible dress.

"So, because you're still alive, you may safely assume that we want you that way. Please stand up and change your pants."

The giant green phallus spat out a pair of slacks of the same style that Ed had peed in. It then produced a frisbee emblazoned with the Sequalia Amalgamated logo. Miss Books handed the slacks to Ed.

Ed took them and began to put them on. He was quite noticably shaking all over.

"Oh, little one, there is nothing to be afraid of. I don't know why I let him talk me into these things. He takes such pride in his monstrosity. He likes to show it off. He's just a dick."

The big green dick chuckled.

"Look," said Miss Books. "The only way we'll kill you is if you try to leave the building. I have a feeling that once you hear about our establishment, you are not going to want to leave anyway."

She pointed to a rather comfortable-looking chair in the corner.

"Please have a seat."

Ed hesitated.

Then he looked at his new pants. They looked very nice on him.

He thought about his microwaved hotdogs, his purple carpet and his dark brown couch.

He thought about the industrial phallus.

He thought about the girl who wouldn't cross town for him.

He thought about the flower pot on top of the newspaper.

Ed sat down in the chair and he comfortably crossed his legs, ready for whatever Miss Books might say.

Ed still had IDIOT stamped on his forehead.