Oh dear...

As the machine powers up, you can feel small fingers poking at your ribs. You giggle and try to jump away, but the only way you can move is right or left--either way, into more tickling fingers. This continues for a minute or so, with both Margaret and the pyrots looking on with amusement.

"Ready to talk, lad?" Asks the pyrot nearest to you.

"Ne-hehe-ver!" You respond defiantly. Oh, boy. That did it!

The pyrot reaches over and presses another button on the machine, and you feel wingtips gliding up and down the bottoms of your feet. Your giggles become steady laughter, and your laughter gets even heavier as the pyrot presses another button and more fingers begin tickling your sides. "Ple-hehehe-se! I'll talk! I'LL TALK!" You manage to gasp out between bouts of wild laughter. The pyrot switches the evil machine off, and you try to regain your breath.

"Yer takin' too long!" The pyrot says angrily, although you suspect he's just looking for a reason to tickle you more. He activates the machine again, and you feel the fingers and feathers resume their tickling.

"No-hoho mo-hahaha-re! PLE-HEHEHE-SE!" You cry. You can't take much more of this.

Written by Bonus Points

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