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"What does it mean Patricia?" It means that my programming is almost one hundred percent in controlof my body while I can tap into Mr. Harris' subconscious mind, asneeded." Can Mr. Harris hear me?" Yes Mother, he can." Damn fucking straight he can hear you. He canalso beat the living crap out of you once he gets control of this bodyagain and that's a promise."Good. Four years ago, my husband Robert and daughter Alisha werekilled in a drive-by shooting by a group affiliated with RaymondHobbes." That's horrible Mother! I'm so sorry! Is there anything I can do?"There she goes again, talking without me."Thank you but, no Patricia, there's nothing you can do ... at least notyet." How did it happen, Mother?" They had the wrong address. They were looking for a rival drug dealerand came to our house instead. The morons confused North 28th Streetwith South 28th Street."What happened to the murderers?" This should be good."Nothing." How is that possible?" Money and influence, that's how little. It wasn’t a big flat, but he’d built a wall to separate the bedroom, which left a small lounge area with a sofa bed and television and a small walk in kitchen. I sat on the sofa with Jon and we drank some beer and watched some rubbish television, as we did every week. “I’ve got a great porn film, if you fancy it?” Jon asked. I’d borrowed porn films from Jon before, so I wasn’t surprised he had got one, but it was the first time he had offered for us to watch one together. “Yes, of course,” I replied. I remember that Jon didn’t get up. He simply pressed play on the remote control and the porn film started at the beginning, which I thought was odd. Looking back now, it’s clear that he’d given this some thought. The film in question was standard porn fare, but at twenty one years old I would get an erection looking at a shapely table leg, so it wasn’t too long before I was shifting uncomfortably in my jeans. Jon was doing the same, but more noticeably than me, he was rubbing his.