Although I hope that when my deep seated Atreides memories and latent abilities are resurfaced it is not through exquisite pain of a T-Probe torture, but maybe in the aftermath of the next most painful thing. Stubbing my toe on the metal coffee table when getting up early for work, or perhaps kneeling on a lego in the shag carpet in the basement. Or both.
"As Stinkles lay coiled on the shag carpet, the rectilinear imprint of the preternaturally sharp lego block still outlined in visceral crimson lines on his alabaster Atreides knee, he howled a primal stream of physically impossible curse words. Through the fog of pain, he could vaguely make out the retort of the Honored Matre, Mrs. Stinkles "Bashar Stinkles, you cannot say those words in front of little Stinkles. She will be traumatized by this. You're going to put her in therapy before she's even in middle school. And those swears don't even make sense. You can't do that with a butthole and there's no such thing as a Dong-kebab."
The Bashar Stinkles ignored the vile witch's Voice powerful command, concentrating purely on surviving this Lego. His toes still throbbed from its unexpected collision with the ugly metal coffee table, and even through the lens of the yellow plastic block's evil ministrations, his foot felt like a bag of broken Fabergé eggs and human teeth, crying from the deepest pit of hell.
But somewhere, a still voice called to him through the ages and the agony. Quiet at first, fainter than the witch upstairs, but growing in power. He became aware at once of a series of choices ahead, each an infinite corridor, like a hall of mirrors presented by something deep in his genetic memory. "Man up" it said, "Rise now Stinkles. Take the righteous path."
When the two pajama shrouded Witches - the girl and her mother, watched Stinkles rise from his pain prison, his movements were a smooth blur of motion and colorfully implausible Scottish swearing. Even with their Honored Matres training and reflexes, they were too slow to stop his ferocious tirade, as he clutched his knee and foot, hopping at supernatural speed around the room, invoking the Litany Against Fear, "I must not kneel. Legos are in the rug. Legos are the dad-killer. I shall wear slippers, step carefully and look for blocks. Let the Lego pass under me. And only I shall emerge. Human."
At the speed Stinkles moved, the witches heard only "Slippin-Rippin-Dang-Fang-Rotten-Zarg-A-Barg-A-Ding-Dong!!!!"
By the time Stinkles exited the Honored Matres modest single family home, the interior was a charnel house of bacon smells and dirty breakfast dishes.
