[Doctor] “… to continue then, it’s late afternoon in Demiurge, in a streetside café of the hippest kind, where a half-dozen diners are casually consuming their meals of broasted crawdads and desert vegetables. A young, bearded couple stands at the menu board defiantly indecisive about whether it’s really what they’re hungry for, then move on to see what else there is on this street. Suddenly, a woman stands up from her table and loudly berates her stunned partner for the manner in which he uses his fork. Attempting to calm things down, he also stands, but quickly joins the argument instead—sarcastically mimicing her overly precise manner of speaking.  Alone at a streetside table, another man is verbally accosted by a passer-by regarding the shape of his head, and in retaliation jumps up to punch the man in the jaw. Within less than five minutes, the scene has escalated into a mini-riot, with bodies crashing into tables and silverware missiles flying across the patio. A woman is struck in the shoulder with a knife, only to pull it out and lunge at her attacker, who in turn, fights her off with a serving tray to the head.

"It should be noted that this behavior is atypical for patrons of trendy establishments in Demiurge, as it is for all citizens. Rather, it is all due to the perverse influence of one individual, from here on referred to as “The Agent”, who at the moment, is under psychic attack by operatives of a highly regarded, and quite secretive, local institute for advanced neurological studies, from here on referred to as “Operatives” from “The Lab” … … … Should I….clarify the aliases, sir?... I mean…”

[Director] “No, Doctor. I believe we all know exactly who we are dealing with… Continue.”

[Doctor] “Meanwhile, not thirty meters away, The Agent is stumbling down the street, staggering like a madman or a drunk, shouting out apologies between clenched teeth to anyone who might hear him. At this point, our operatives believe they have worn him down about as far as he can go, and unless he can escape from their attacks soon, he will likely suffer irreparable damage. Their constant thought-barrage has, in a manner of speaking, cracked his mind open to anyone listening, and as you can imagine, it’s not for the faint of heart.”

[Director] “I am quite familiar with Agent Dent’s history. I don’t need to imagine. Explain the details of this barrage.”

[Doctor] "Of course. The operatives deployed a staggered series of multi-frequency neural disruption charges, of short duration but with very high intensity. We—they-- concocted a nasty blend of horrible deeds and reprehensible thoughts, culled from his most destitute memories, then combined with flavors of his deepest terrors, and garnished with plenty of B-movie gore and violence. A stew of sensory abhorrence that sickens, overwhelms and eventually, incapacitates the target, by attacking all of the senses and disrupting every thought, no matter how small or fleeting.”