It was like a mantra running through his mind. Pain is subjective.

Over and over. But now, as Derren approached the stage door the phrase no longer seemed able to exert it's calming influence.

There could be forumites on the other side of that door.

The prospect was enough to cause his step to falter and his face grow pale. Doubtless it would seem incredible to some that this notion could fill him with such trepidation. Those people have never visited the forum. Uncertain if that thought should offer him any comfort or not he tried to put it aside. As his hand touched the cold metal of the door handle he took a deep, slow breath. The door began to open.

Little did he realise that he was about to face the longest three minutes of his life.

*****

The crowd that had gathered outside the theatre were unaware of the influence their presence had night after night. All except one.

The one they called Roy. He knew.

Standing apart from the others he observed them in silence. Such an odd assortment of people they did not look all that remarkable, but Roy knew better. He'd seen it all before and he recognised the signs. From the hushed whispers he could hear talk of plywood and Parma violets. The evidence was unmistakable. It didn't matter now how normal they tried to appear there was no hoodwinking the one they called Roy. They could try to look relaxed standing outdoors, seem comfortable talking to people face-to-face but the clues were there.

Forumites.

*****

Derren stepped out into the cool night air. Just this once don't let them ask me what it means. It always seemed strange on reflection to that it was often the small, insignificant things that grew to be so influential.

All eyes turned on him as he walked forward. He smiled. Slowly the fear gave way as he revelled in the glorious feeling of once again being the centre of attention.

The crowd drifted towards him. It would have been unprecedented if they had maintained the orderly line. Soon the familiar rhythm of signing autographs and posing for photos began to relax him.

*****

She was there in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. No need to rush, there would be time. She had to be in control, she would be in control and she was determined to enjoy every moment. Standing with her back to the cold brick wall of the theatre she watched, taking the measure of his increasing susceptibility. He hadn't seen her yet, he wouldn't see her not until it was too late.

With a slight nod of her head she signalled to the others, it was time to begin.

Even she hadn't realised how spectacular it would be to see the plan slide into motion. It had been rehearsed over and over, the strange things presented for autographs, questions about Figaro, the unusual gifts, the Parma violets. Surely no-one could fail to be confused by all of that! They would have to work quickly. Soon she would have the answer, soon she would be free of this obsession.

A slight movement caught her attention. It was just Roy. Was it her imagination or was he looking more alert than usual? She calmed herself, everything was working out fantastically, nothing could stop her now.

*****

Call it intuition. Call it a sixth sense. Call it instinct. Whatever it was, something told Roy that all was not right. Nothing monumental had happened. If anything it was the subtlety that alerted him. The questions following on too neatly from one another, the Forumites handing over their gifts in an orderly way, no jostling for position, no discreet elbowing others ribs or kicking their ankles to move them aside. It was unnatural, as if their behaviour were being influenced by some outside force.

He took a step away from the door and looked around. Sure enough as he watched them closely he could see the pattern. They each cast occasional glances inexplicably towards the shadows. Derren was standing, looking puzzled by a packet of Parma violets that had just been handed to him.

At that moment Roy saw the figure step with feline grace from the shadows. An outrageous confidence surrounded her as she strode toward Derren. The rest of the Forumites stepped back, clearing the way for her and closing in again once she had passed. Distracted in his attempts to sign the packet purple sweets Derren was unaware of the danger that approached. He was embedded in the centre of the Forumite mob.

Roy cursed himself for not seeing the danger until it was almost upon them. With a breathtaking show of grace and agility he bolted forwards.

"Derren! Look out!", he hoped the warning would not be too late.

*****

Derren was contemplating the autograph he had signed elegantly on the packet of Parma violets. It was a masterpiece. The sound of Roy's shout rang out. He looked up and saw the look of panic on Roy's face. Then he saw her. He tried to back away to get back to the security of the door, but he was surrounded. Her hand took hold of his wrist and held it in an incredibly firm grip. He was rapped.

Impossible. There had to be a way out. He knew what she was about to say even as she started speaking. No!

"Tell me", she began, "what does it mean?"

Her determination was breathtaking. Her eyes were fixed on him as she spoke. "Nobacherie. What is it?"

"Chim.", he began but the word died on his lips.

"No!", her voice was raised and he could see the anger in her eyes. "Do you think there is an on-line translation site that we haven't tried?! Do you know how many French-English dictionaries have been left abandoned in Waterstones in despair?!"

Even the other Forumites seemed to shy away from her as her rage built.

"I haven't spent sleepless nights on the forum masterminding this opportunity to listen to that! Chimpanzé is French for Chimpanzee!"

Her fingers tightened their grip his arm and he fought a rising sense of panic. Pain is subjective he reminded himself ignore the pain and think, there has to be a way to escape. He needed time. Time for Roy to battle his way through the crowd.

"Okay. I'll tell you," his shoulders slumped and he sighed, "It's complicated though."

Derren risked a glance at his captor and saw the eagerness in her eyes as her gaze fixed on him. It seemed extraordinary that this attempt to buy time could work.

"You probably don't realise how influential Derek Acorah was in the whole thing," he was barely aware of what he was saying. There was a glimmer of hope as he saw Roy was closing in on them.

By the time she thought to follow his gaze it was too late. Ruthlessly Roy charged into her, breaking her grip on Derren's arm and sending her sprawling on the ground.

They took advantage of the interruption and ran, astonishing a lone taxi driver as they charged across the road in front of him.

His feet hurt.

*****

This couldn't be happening. She should have been standing here triumphantly finally free of this blasted fixation on that word. Instead she headed for the underground station deep in thought.

There had been a suggestion that they forget it, just let it drop, turn their attention to the matter of gloves instead.

She had come so close this time.

There would be other tours.

Top Secret

The Forum Experiment: Initial Results

Object
To prove how simple it is to Influence a random selection of people into performing Incredible tasks. The controller of the Experiment, known as "forumadmin"¹ appears to the subjects as an innocuous administrator. At no time should the subjects (hereafter referred to as "forumites"²) be made aware of the Experiment.

Method
In order to ascertain the extent of the Influence, a somewhat unusual method was employed. The proposal that an internet-based forum could provide accurate results was initially received with scepticism. However, after the Remarkable findings from the initial 'Mega BBS'³ phase of the Experiment, it was decided that the time was ripe to continue Hoodwinking using the new 'phpBB'⁴ software.

Realising that, no matter how Influential forumadmin may be, the forumites would not simply accept the change with no questions, a Glorious plan was put into action. Within hours, there were Unprecedented crashes on the Mega BBS forum, and with amazing Susceptibility, the forumites unquestioningly accepted the change to the new 'phpBB' software.

The new software was a Spectacular success. New threads sprang up everywhere, fuelling the members' joint Obsession. Day after day, discussions raged between the forumites. The new code worked Fantastically, feeding individually tailored subliminal messages to each and every forumite.

Then came the Monumental day. Deciding that the forumites had now been Influenced enough, forumadmin began making the final arrangements for the climax of the experiment.

First, forumadmin whet the forumites' appetites by claiming there would be no West End run that year. The predictable outrage followed. Inexplicably there were many arguments about 'provincial' theatres. After allowing the thread to simmer for a while, forumadmin made his move.

Many have called it Outrageous, placing such Embedded commands on an open forum. However, as we have come to expect, the plan worked with Breathtaking simplicity; it was Masterpiece , a stroke of genius.

Despite the plan being dismissed by some as "Incredibly stupid", and as "Impossible" by others, it was put into place with Breathtaking audacity.

Masterminding the plans for the day, without appearing to do so was an Extraordinary task for forumadmin. Despise his Influential position, it took all his efforts to arrange the forum meet for the correct day. Ruthlessly abusing his many secret usernames, forumadmin managed to manipulate the forumites so that their plans matched his own.

The great day arrived on the 18th of June, and with Astonishing elegance, the Experiment was Triumphantly proved to be a success. The repeated subliminal messages that were written into the forum code perfectly controlled the behaviour of all forumites who attended the meeting. From Parma Violets and penis hammers, to wondering about nobacherie⁵, the day was a perfect example of how to control unsuspecting victims.

Conclusion
The Forum Experiment has proved a complete success. Using a mixture of magic, Suggestion, psychology, misdirection and showmanship, it has been shown that a random selection of people can be given instructions without their knowledge and made to follow these instructions without even realising.

The results of this experiment have wide implications for the future use of forumites. Once the final report is published, we expect enquiries from several large companies interested in the marketing potential of our findings.

---------------

¹ forumadmin
For Office use only. Really unethical Use of Member details. Ah, but they Don't know. Mwah ha ha ha ha! I am so Nasty!

² Forumites
For Office use only. Really unethical Use of Member details. Impossible They would Ever Suspect.

³ MegaBBS
Miraculously Entertaining and Guaranteed to Amuse. Boredom Beater Supreme

⁴ phpBB
Phase two. Honed to Perfection, Beautifully Brazen

⁵ nobacherie
Nothing but an Obviously fake word, Brilliantly designed to Arouse the Curiosity of the Helpless forumites. Evidently, this Really Is Evil.

My dearest Nobacherie,
He whom is my greatest influence in this world, I have some quite incredible news. Some three weeks ago, during one of rare days off I decide to go for a stroll along the Thames, dressed in such gentlemanly attire that is sure to influence any lady I should desire, but that is by the by and since that incident in Wopping I have toned down my aristocratic dress sense to avoid such again. Anyway I must report to you of some most remarkable news. I was walking past my local corner shop, Harrods sell some marvellous cheeses do you not agree?, when I perchanced upon another gentleman dressed in such similar attire and style to myself that I thought I had found a long lost twin brother but, alas, it was not to be the gentlemen in question was a complete and utter rogue intent on hoodwinking the good gentlefolk of London into handing over their wallets and other sundry items of a monetary nature without question and seemingly of their own free will. I also overheard the cad using my name!
I find myself vexed as I myself use this trick but only in the cause of tele-visual entertainment, not too line my own pockets, although should I find myself in need of a little petty cash I am not to principled to attempt such things, as the Pope can attest. Anyway the point of this letter, my dear nobacherie, is to ask for advice on what I should do with this impostor that so blatantly steals the wallets of good folk and uses my name while he does so.
Yours truly, Derren

P.S. Please could you return the frock coat you borrowed as I need it to wear for my next Laser-Quest session with Mr Ross.

****

Derren
I am so sorry to hear of the news which you related to me about this impostor, whom sounds as influential as yourself. However I am unable to offer any advice as I am currently lying on the shores in the glorious Caribbean. If you remember, you did allow me, in a quite unprecedented move, to have a holiday after fifteen years of being your indentured servant. However, should I return I will look upon this matter of which you speak. The frock coat is still at my flat.
Coops

****

My Nobacherie,
I implore you to re turn to England's shores at once, I am in quite a state as the impostor that has been preying on the susceptibility of the good folk of London has performed the most spectacular disappearing trick. For weeks I have seen this cad wondering the streets of our capital city but suddenly he has disappeared and I know not where. I am afraid to say I have developed a bit of an obsession as I have tried to discover the real identity of my identity thief. I must mention that he disappeared the same time as when you left these shores.
All the best
Derren

ps In the meantime I think I ought to let you know that I let myself into your flat to get my frock coat but I found a false stick on goatee in the pocket, is it yours?

****

Dez,
I just thought you might like to know that I am currently in a bar where they serve some fantastically delicious and above all incredibly alcoholic cocktails. I can't be arsed to deal with your problems at the moment as I am trying to drink as much as possible to stave off the effects of the most monumental hangover I have ever had. Hair of the dog and all that. See you when I get back.
Love Coops

****

My Nobacherie,
I find myself distressed at your reluctance to return to England and aid me in my hour of need. An impostor had disguised himself as yours truly, purely with the aim of getting rich in the process and fingering the blame solely at me. I should have thought that my most trusted servant would have returned to these learned shores to aid his master, especially if said servant wished to continue in his service to said master.
I equally require your attention because the police have taken it upon themselves to harass me and condemn me as a common thief. Luckily I was able to employ my many subtle mind tricks to send them away and bother me no more.
Derren

****

Dezza, Whilst I have been sitting on the shores of this tropical paradise I find myself influenced by the many and varied-hued drinks with strange and lush names and I have inexplicably decided that I shall make it my life's mission to try each and every single one, twice if necessary and in great succession. I am sure that you will find this outrageous but I think I have finally found my calling.
Coops

****

My nobacherie
I confess that I find your behaviour somewhat worrisome but I am sure it is just a phase and soon you will be back to your old self after you have refreshed yourself upon this holiday. Speaking of which, you've been gone five weeks, will you be back soon?
I took the liberty of having your flat cleaned after I saw the mess within when I fetched my frock coat and I am sure you will find this strange, I found a dartboard with a picture of me on it, which a dart was embedded into. Peculiar is it not?
Write soon,
Derren

P.S. I have some free time soon and I might take the liberty of visiting the Caribbean since you are there.

****

D
I feel it is my solemn duty to tell you that the Caribbean has suddenly declared itself off limits to psychological illusionists. You would be arrested on sight as soon as you land. I feel that as I am your dedicated nobacherie I should also inform you that the same political decision makers have forced me to stay upon this tropical island enduring all sorts of terrible pursuits, such as mini-golf and water slides.
Please do not come I fear for your safety
Coops

****

My Nobacherie
How terrible is to hear that you are being held against your will. It is quite breathtaking in the extreme and I feel a certain sadness in that I am unsure when, if ever, I will see you again.
On a happier note I am glad to inform you that I have made progress on the mystery man that was pretending to be me. Despite my natural feelings of hatred towards the impostor I confess that the man's work was almost as good as mine. Why one would almost think he knew me intimately and had trained under me, what a masterpiece of cunning and vile thought the man must possess. Speaking of which the Police have decided to take it upon themselves to take me to court, incredibly, they seem to believe that I am responsible for my impostors indiscretions. Apparently they have received a handwritten note of my 'confession' to the crimes, it is obviously a forgery but the handwriting so closely mirrors my own that I shouldn't wonder that my impostor is to blame. Derren
P.S. Did you ever return my handwritten manuscript that I wanted you to proof read?

****

Dez
It is quite impossible to convey to you the breathtaking sunsets I have been watching whilst I am here (against my will) However I am still holding out and am sure I will survive.

****

My dearest Nobacherie
It has been many weeks since I written to you last, I am in a spot of bother and am now writing my correspondence whilst I am at Her Majesty's Pleasure. I am sad to say that the impostor who stole my identity and framed me for crimes that I did not commit had been masterminding the whole affair for a very long time. I can only wonder at the extraordinary lengths to which my impostor went to make sure that I ended up where I am now. I had thought myself influential beyond all reckoning but not to the lengths that my impostor went. He has ruthlessly and with astonishing ability managed to make sure that he imprisoned one of the most pre-eminent psychological illusionists in the world, namely me. Despite my current predicament I hope that I can rely on to see me through these difficult times triumphantly.
Yours truly, Derren

****

Derren,
Terribly sorry, one suggestion don't pick up the soap.
Wish you were here
Coops.

His feet hurt.
Perhaps Coops could be persuaded to massage them.
He might even think it was his own suggestion.
This thought brought a smile to Derren's face, despite still being out of breath from his extraordinary escape. Finally able to relax following the evening's terrifying events, he couldn't yet put them out of his mind completely.
He set his empty glass down on the small table next to him and put the top back on the bottle beside it. He thought it best that Coops didn't think he was under the influence when he recounted this astonishing tale. He closed his eyes and waited for Coops to arrive.

*****

There was a chill in the air. The stars embedded in the sky made little impact on the dark, shadowy night.
He didn't feel the cold though. He was the one they called Roy.
Standing outside the door to Derren's house, he was watchful and alert. That forumite minx had been outrageous. He had to admit the plan had been breathtaking in it's simplicity.
He couldn't forgive himself though. Perhaps in time. For now, it was too soon.
Where's Coops got to? What if they'd got to him too?
Roy fought a momentary panic. Derren had called him already, he was fine. He'd be here.

*****

He hadn't had a chance to learn the details, but what Derren had told him was enough to unsettle him.
Coops cursed his own susceptibility. If he's just been at the drink again.
He was on the verge of turning round and heading home. This time it had been different, even when drunk Derren rarely made up such incredible tales.
Except the one about Figaro and the hostess trolley.
Even then Derren hadn't gotten away with completely hoodwinking him. The marzipan had been a giveaway.
He knew at times he was easily influenced but this was different. He found himself inexplicably inclined to believe the wild claims in this latest saga.

*****

"Coops, you came!" Derren couldn't keep the relief from his voice.
Coops looked distracted and gestured vaguely toward the hallway, "Did you know Des is standing outside your door?"
Derren was surprised, he recalled sending him home an hour ago, "He is showing remarkable dedication."
"I think he has an obsession with doorways."
A look of anger flashed across Derren's face as he leapt to his feet.
"You wouldn't speak like that if you'd been there." His words had an accusatory tone. "His bravery tonight was monumental. The forumites were everywhere."
Despite the warmth of the room he couldn't suppress the shiver as the memory came flooding back. He let Coops guide him back into his chair.
Such unfettered displays of emotion were unprecedented and the influence this had on Coops was obvious, he was immediately more attentive. Derren thought about mentioning how much his feet hurt. Not just yet. It wasn't impossible that Coops would volunteer a massage, but Derren decided to wait until he was certain of it.
Haltingly at first he began to tell Coops what had happened. About the questions, about the autographs and the Parma violets. About the forumite who had been masterminding the spectacular assault. He rolled back his sleeve to show where she had ruthlessly gripped his arm. He became more animated as he relayed just how fantastically he had managed to distract her with mention of Derek Acorah.

*****

Coops listened. A look of disbelief clear on his face at times.
He knew what he had to do. Being careful not to spill the massage oil he assured Derren that the events outside the theatre had been truly breathtaking. He agreed that it seemed chilling to think that one forumite could become so influential. He reassured him that running across the road in front of a taxi had been an incredibly good idea.

As he left the house Coops allowed himself a smile of satisfaction and a dry chuckle. Soon Derren would realise how influential he, Coops had become.
His masterpiece had been tarnished, but the artistry was still glorious.

*****

As his footsteps echoed triumphantly along the footpath Coops failed to notice he was observed.
By the one they called Roy.