A Feat For Your Feet

Doctor Ainsley paced with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“Look, I demand to know the meaning of this,” called the man. He sat at the opposite end of the room, tied a chair. “I’m just a city clerk, understand? There’s no need to treat me like this.”

“An interesting story,” said Doctor Ainsley. “A measly little city clerk who happens to gain entry to one of my exclusive parties attended entirely by infamous criminals, wander off, hack a keypad, enter my cellar, and take photos of the blueprints you found there with a microscopic camera hidden in your lapel. You can drop the act, Agent Malloy. You think I don’t know who you really are?”

The man in the chair sighed. The gig was up. “Fine,” he said. “But if you’ve known all along that I’m the great Agent Malloy, master of disguise, why am I still alive?”

“It’s simple.” Doctor Ainsley stopped pacing now. “I want what you want. Information.”

Agent Malloy scoffed. “If you think I’m going to break, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I don’t think anything, Agent Malloy,” Doctor Ainsley said. “I know you will. Jiles! Bring me the device!”

An enormous goon entered carrying something that like a pair of boots adhered to a platform.

“Hook our guest in, won’t you?” Doctor Ainsley said.

Jiles went to work, pulling off the agent’s shoes and strapping his feet in.

“It’s something I’ve been working on for a while,” Doctor Ainsley explained. “You see, the feet seem somewhat underused, or maybe underabused, in the information-extraction process. After all, a burn, a stab, what have you. These things inconvenience us, but to wreak havoc on one’s heels and soles? There is no escaping the pain. You will feel it every time you take a step. But there’s no need to worry, Agent Malloy. If you give me the names and aliases of all other agents in your organization, you’ll walk out of here an unscathed man.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Agent Malloy said. “Do your worst.”

“Jiles! Turn it on! Full power!” Doctor Ainsley’s sinister grin widened. “How’s it feel, Agent Malloy? Are the hot spikes digging their way in yet? Can you feel the screws entering your ankles?”

“It actually feels pretty nice,” Agent Malloy said.

Doctor Ainsley’s smile flatlined. “What?”

“I’m mostly getting something that feels like a shiatsu massage,” Agent Malloy said, closing his eyes. “And then there’s a bit of air compression around my legs, which is wonderful. Great for circulation. And is that a little bit of heat there coming in? Oh wow. That’s great. That’s honestly awesome. I am totally blissing out.”

But that can’t be right, thought Doctor Ainsley. The way Agent Mallory talks makes it sound more like a massager. And if that’s here, then the torture device must be–

Doctor Ainsley’s eyes went wide.

“Jiles!” he yelled. “Call my father! Immediately! Tell him there’s been a mistake, and he is under no circumstances to use the Father’s Day gift I just sent him!”