"Hanging Out" with CPM

The true story, in response to Curious Physics Minor's bold statements in his recent "expose" of a fictional crime syndicate bearing my name.

Over the course of my writership, Board parties and other functions led me to meet a certain Curious Physics Minor (known casually as CPM). We didn't talk much at first, but as other writers came and went, it was inevitable that we began to chat. At first, I was impressed and, admittedly, always intrigued by CPM, with his debonair demeanor, his seemingly endless knowledge and his charismatic, friendly disposition. We became friends and eventually began to spend a bit more time "hanging out."

I soon discovered why the Brethren are so opposed to such activities.

One night, as CPM was leading me through some Wii Fit exercises in his basement, he let down his guard a bit and accidentally called our workout sessions "training." Being of sharp mind myself, I didn't say anything but took quiet note. As the evening progressed, I drew out small details here and there, and finally pieced together a picture that was anything but a casual friendship. So this is where "hanging out" leads, I thought.

Being a discerning guy, CPM must have noticed something different about me, despite my efforts to hide it. I think he assumed I was figuring things out, because he went upstairs "for a drink of water," (like working out would make CPM thirsty) and came back with a couple of keys, a metal box and a little bottle of some thick, clear liquid.

He entered the room; I stood, with the plan to inch toward the door while we discussed boxing tactics. But CPM would have none of it. He had locked the door behind him, and "persuaded" me to join him on the couch. Before I knew it, I had ingested the liquid in the bottle and was powerless to object to anything CPM asked of me. Between the drug and his charm, I was stuck.

The next hour was filled with instruction on bike mechanics, layouts of apartment complexes, technical specs and promises that "this [theft] won't hurt a bit." (Alma 11:23, I thought, but there was nothing I could do.) I was now an unwilling operative of the Commanding Proprietary Marauder (known casually as CPM).

**

To be continued ...