CHAPTER 12...The Jig Not Being Quite Up Yet

"Uhhh, okay" Ezmerelda stuttered at the unexpected Quasimodo pillow stuffing moment, "Do you always act this way with girls?"

"Heh, yes, you see, my brain..." At that instant, Phil's brain withdrew all the endorphines from Phil's body. Poor Phil had become addicted to his own brain!  He was now enslaved, having to obey its every command. One of its sadistic rules was NEVER to tell ANYONE about its control over him. 

Phil, going into seizures, pleaded with his brain for a couple minutes, sat up straight, wiped some of the froth from his mouth and chin, then, looking at Ezmeralda with a quizzically arched eyebrow asked, "Yes? Is something the matter?" Then, remembering his accent, he quickly apologized to his brain and as an afterthought said, "Heh heh master?" 

The poor woman, with a plastic watermelon slice on her head, was completely confused. She realized she had better come right to the point and simply state that unless Phil wanted to choose Death, he had better join her at the local cafe bar.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?