There I was minding my own business, visiting at the Museum of the Peoples Republic, and while I was looking over a pair of rare FooManChu chop sticks, I was grabbed from and anesthetized by a whiff of Olong Tea.
I awoke, groggy, my hands tied, my head ringing.
"You," a sinister man in a khaki uniform with a pointed hat like George Washington wore, said, "have to come clean. Otherwise you will have a Kafka experience."
I regained my composure, and staccato-like began talking about the Great Loboski followed by a recitation of some of the dialogue from Barton Fink, the part where Barton----"
In the middle of Barton---, I felt someone thrusting egg drop soup down my gullet with hot mustard. I began choking. But it tasted good.
"Do you want to talk now, American swine."
I didn't know what they were talking about. A year ago Ihad put a mustache on the Premier's picture. They were probably upset because the Premier was a woman.
Then they released my hands, and put an iPhone 5 in my hands and forced me to play scrabble on it. I couldn't stand it, I was so used to an iPhone 6, and freaked out. They also made me robo-call asking people if they needed any solar-panels.
They also put a clothes pin on my penis so that after 6 hours my bladder was ready to explode.
In the end, I turned over the plans to the new neutron-bomb, the Higgs boson bazooka, and the place where I hide my chocolate covered raisins.