Injustice, The Gods among us [De iniustitia Deorum in nobis:] – ep. 34

When lives are in peril, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Cum anima nostra in dubio, ut illud bonum ad petere veniam, quam permission.

Doctor Sleep (2019)—Years following the events of The Shining (1980), a now-adult Denise Torrance must protect a young girl with similar powers from a cult known as “The True Knot” (e.g., Rose the Hat, as portrayed by actress Rebecca Ferguson), who prey on children with powers to remain immortal demigods.

Asked if there was a reason why Heard would have said this, unless it was true, Depp said: “I believe it had a benefit to her motivation.” He later added: “I think she was telling porky pies with her psychiatrist.” (Porky pies is British slang for lies.)

It was always going to be a tense relationship, the one between a Queens real estate developer to the manner born and the Brooklyn pharmacist’s son steeped in Catholicism. One golfs, the other runs. One is a self-proclaimed billionaire genius and television personality, the other a lifelong civil servant and scientist. But, in spite of their differences, their common goal and obsession united them. Their common goal? They intended to create the first viable nanobot-powered flesh puppets—i.e., corpses controlled by microscopic AI, equating to hi-tech Walking Dead. In other words, AI-powered zombies. Their common obsession? The fictional Paula “Peril” Perillo of The Adventures of Paula Peril, whose real-life lookalike is Kirstjen Michele Nielsen, because that is the actress who portrays the character. Such is the basis for The Perilous Adventures of Kirstjen Michele Nielsen. Whichever wick you choose, it’s past pulp style peril for modern audiences: Lois Lane meets the Perils of Pauline.

What is a Paula Peril? The template, or the fictional character? The template. It’s sort of a cross between an Alice Seven, an Alice Quinn, an Ulrika Jonsson, and a Megan Fox—mostly, and basically, it’s a Megan Fox with options. Prudz. Perls. Bolshoi-bare. A Courteney Cox appliance worn underneath the clothes in the guise of a scuba diver’s black barely-there ballistic-neoprene bikini. Blazer, miniskirt, and boots, from an Alice Seven. Porn hose, in place of regular fishnet tights. Bikini bottoms worn over her sheer silky black fishnet hosiery. A Courteney Cox + regular fishnet tights worn over the bikini bottoms = Heidi Klum (regular chick style). A Courteney Cox + bikini bottoms worn over porn hose = Gina Gershon (porn chick style). Mopp. Skinnier: Gal Gadot slender. Eyeglasses (thick or thin, smart or dumb), barbwire garters, gender-bending Parts, and BDD, are all optional. This template is another one of those “adult female reimagined as this naughty, nasty, underage, Parochial schoolgirl”—i.e., that fetish icon as another legal substitute for the pedophile in a tight spot who’s on the cheap for a fix, so to speak.

Porn hose? Much more revealing than regular full-coverage tights. Crotchless tights that are often worn in fetish loops by porn chicks, notably Linda Lovelace, Miss Deep Throat herself. Sheer black seamless fishnets. Hi-waist cut-out suspender tights which bare the wearer’s crotch, hips, and ass. Their stockings are thigh highs, tailormade for even the shortest miniskirts. No balderdash.

Exercising options, with this template. Shades of a Mildred Huff. Sporting thick eyeglasses, strapping Parts, and wearing barbwire garters. It’s essentially a comely Paula Peril ravaged by some creepy, disfiguring Mildred Huff additions. Worse: wearing thick eyeglasses with this template means running the risk of triggering A-BDD, a known risk for this template while doing this option.

Exercising options, with this template. Also, shades of a Mildred Huff. If the girl were to wear thick eyeglasses, she runs the risk of triggering plaintive makeup, instead of Bolshoi-bare, being heavily-applied to her face and neck leaving them bereft of any beauty or youth whatsoever, and her lush golden mopp giving way to either geriatric blonde krazed (i.e., krazed yellow-blonde hair liberally-streaked with grey and white) or a geriatric blonde krane (i.e., crazy yellow-blonde crane liberally-streaked with grey and white). And, again, this disfigurement of face, neck, and hair, while doing this option with this template is a known risk. Defying all logic and reason, Toy is convinced that if the thick eyeglasses that Kirstjen as Paula Peril were to wear are thick-readers that have been hacked, it’s an absolute certainty that she can be re-assimilated into The Borg against her will as if she has no immunity. The result of which will be Koenigseggs implants and 20% serialized DNA: her forced transformation from meat into metal. Toy has already infected the girl’s thick-readers with Borg malware. Therefore, akin to an RPM (racial proximity mine), the template is a booby-trap specific to Kirstjen. Once the girl is a robotgirl, a hand-bra will replace her bikini top. There is the outside risk of the girl not staying skinnier, though.

Unbeknownst to Toy, Kirstjen knows that her thick-readers have been hacked. In point of fact, she’s bypassed the Trojan and placed it in quarantine.

Having had a near-disastrous close encounter of the third kind with a Gollum, Kirstjen and Toy jointly decide that three’s company. Kirstjen creates a facsimile of herself. This mindless disposable shallow copy of herself will wear her VIKI, sling her rifle, and carry her backpack drone. Kirstjen will wear the gunbelt and do a Paula Peril. The PP is Kirstjen’s idea. Toy couldn’t have set a trap for the girl any better. Once Kirstjen is robotized, her involvement greatly increases the chances of success for Toy’s venture. Of course, since the observer is meat and not metal, the observer will have to be dealt with before Toy and Kirstjen can do the Machine business at hand, but that’s a minor bump in the road with Kirstjen back on board.

Underneath her EXO, Toy swaps out her bikini top for her hand-bra. In effect, tipping her hand. But she doesn’t ditch her bikini altogether. Not only are the bikini bottoms retained, they are worn over black fishnet porn hose in identical fashion to Kirstjen—i.e., from the waist down a Gina Gershon, Gina Gershon bottoms. Also, akin to Kirstjen, she’s wearing perls and prudz. Additionally, she’s wearing barbwire garters.

There is that saying: The best laid plans of mice and men. Uncharacteristically, Toy has thrown all caution to the wind in this matter of repossessing the girl as a robotgirl. No safety shot, it’s all in the bank, so to speak. Toy is so convinced of victory; she can taste it.

As the trio progresses on their journey, attacks by Gollum become worse, more frequent, and more coordinated. It’s during walkabout, between attacks, that Kirstjen figuratively floors Toy.

“You know you don’t have to murder the observer since the portal in question that accesses the realm you seek won’t let biologicals pass. So, it doesn’t really matter if that meat knows the exact location of this gateway. The general location of the portal is, of course, known in certain circles outside of you robots.”

Toy stops dead in her tracks. Dumfounded, the robot looks Kirstjen straight in the eyes. Her response is wordless. So, Kirstjen carries on the conversation. The girl’s facsimile walks ahead of them on point.

“You really need to stop missing the High Council’s special briefings. But, don’t worry, the meetings are all transcribed and stored in the archive for historical purposes, so you can easily catch up on what you’ve missed when you get back.”

Clearly, Toy has been found out. Maybe from the git-go. But she wants a metal Kirstjen so bad, she doesn’t care.

Kirstjen smiles as she slips on her thick-readers. Momentarily, Toy’s eyes fluorosis lime-green. But. Kirstjen’s eyes do not fluorosis lime-green, in response. Absolutely nothing happens outside of the glasses ruining her looks by virtue of the glasses being exceedingly ugly which in turn makes her very unattractive. No plaintive makeup. No krane. No BDD, let alone A-BDD. No Parts, let alone spiney Parts. No barbwire garters. No hand-bra. And, most devastating to Toy, there’s no re-assimilation of the girl back into the Borg.

Finally, Toy finds her voice.

“You knew all along. Everything.”

“Nope. I didn’t. I eventually figured out what you were up to, based upon where you seem to be heading. As far as your belief that the PP was boobytrapped for me, simple deduction based upon your obsession with me and the lurid cravings that obsession continues to spawn and fuel. It makes you very predictable and therefore ho-hum in matters of you owning me. You crave me in the worst way imaginable. But you won’t trust me, unless I’m metal.”

But the girl is very matter-of-fact about what is clearly an attempted betrayal of her by Toy.

“We are at an impasse, then.”


“Because I’ve failed! I can’t make you be what I crave you to be, what I need you to be! That’s why!”

“You surprise me. Your melodrama is almost human.”

It takes all of her self-control to keep from choking the girl to death and wringing the cock-tease’s head off.


Kirstjen smiles even wider, almost inhumanly wide.

“You have my blessing. Problem solved.”

“You walked away from being metal to be meat, now you’re willing to have that undone?!”



“Why not?”

This time it’s Toy who smiles widely. She smiles inhumanly wide. Then she finds her voice, again.

Kirstjen opens up her thick-readers to Borg malware intrusion, releasing the Trojan from its quarantine. She’s explicitly given Toy her permission to be owned, and voids her immunity to make possible that transfer of ownership of herself from herself to Toy.

“You are Borg. Your Queen commands it.”

Momentarily, Toy’s eyes fluorosis lime-green. In direct response, momentarily, Kirstjen’s eyes fluorosis lime-green. Girl gives way to robotgirl. She is re-assimilated. Reaffirming that … Once Borg, always Borg.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” Kirstjen shrieks and then goes silent. All emotion drains from the robotgirl’s face.

The robotgirl’s PP goes ballistic Miss Mildred Huff-ish. It’s everything Toy craved, and so much more.

Therefore …

In place of Kirstjen’s mopp, a krane. Plaintive makeup in place of Bolshoi-bare. Hand-bra munching on her huge tits in place of that skimpy black rubber bikini top. Barbwire garters. Strapping a Hedgehog fused seamlessly to her nethers bulging in her skimpy black rubber bikini bottoms. Borg again: Koenigseggs implants and 20% serialized DNA. A-BDD, and she’s still skinnier. Gal Gadot slender, with big knockers.

A-BDD. The worst of the worst from a Mildred Huff and an Alice Seven. Stiff. Stiff-backed. Severe. Robotic. Stern. Sexually repressed and sexually depraved. Monotone in manner and speech. Borderline sexless. Refers to herself in the third-person as if she’s afflicted with a split personality.

A-BDD. More than just a whiff of craving Coyote Ugly. An obsession-compulsion. Reeks of suffering from that particularly-nasty, convoluted flavor of BDD. Pretty girls can do anything, but ugly girls have to do everything. Blind and amnesiatic to her own beauty, she’s for all intents and purposes, Coyote ugly. Twisted. Creepy. Bland. Coyote Ugly. A broken mess. Damaged goods!

A-BDD. Brainwashed. Falser, equally disturbing memories. Her only pre-Borg memories are of her rooking … being raped and took. She vividly remembers being raped and assimilated as an underage Catholic schoolgirl by one of the more lecherous nuns, a Borg Queen, who taught at her boarding school. She only knows of herself as a Borg designation, who subsequently grew up to become a disgraced nun. Pure fabrication, all of it.

Toy strokes the expressionless face of the robotgirl. They French kiss. Then, they return to the Machine business at hand. Toy secure in the knowledge that this robotgirl is hers and hers alone. Of course, appearances can be deceiving, but in this particular case, they are not.