Here for business or psychiatry?

Who: Cerebrum, his men, Appendix, Schweeble
Where: The old meeting room
When: Right now
After Phil left, Cerebrum gathered up the remenants of his meson
cannon. It had been such a good idea in principle, the use of a tight
particle beam to rewrite brain code. And it would've worked too if it
hadn't been for Phil and his mad computer. Oh well, he would
reconstruct it later, and put in safeguards the next time so that
only Cerebrum could blow up stuff.
At least his tesla generator, Van de Graff Fryer and Ion Particle
Beamer still were functional. He had gotten the plans out of the
psychiatric monthly, though this month's plans seemed a bit more
destructively aligned than previous months. They had also made a typo
on the cover, instead of saying Psyhciatric Monthly, it said,
Mercenaries Quarterly.
It wasn't known to Cerebrum, but back on Earth, a group of rebels
were currently attempting to overthrow the government by using a new
and improved psychiatric couch as their main weapon.
Cerebrum was brushing some metal fragments off his desk when Joe
Schweeble walked in, and narrowly avoided being brained by a large
piece of metal that fell off the ceiling.
"Ah, Mr Scweeble," Cerebrum said, "it is so good to see you. I've
been going over your psych-file, and I do believe I've found a cure
for your condition. Now, from what I can tell, you aren't suffering
any psych-conditions at the moment where your mind is actually
affected. But it's the psych-conditions where your mind isn't
affected that are the most dangerous. Because if they don't affect
the mind or the body, how can you tell when they're gone?
Fortunately, I've got a tesla generator now, so just lie down on the
couch and let's get those electrons flowing, shall we? Or are you
here on security business?"
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