You go to the kitchen to get your food.

You walk into the kitchen, where your mom is sitting down at the table, reading the newspaper. She's dressed in her usual morning ensemble: a pink nightgown and soft white slippers.

She glances up and looks at you. "Well hello, sleepyhead," she says. "Glad to see you up and about."

You nod, and look around. "Hey, where are the bacon and eggs I smelled earlier?" you ask her.

"I made those for myself," she replies. "I'm not your cook, Sam. You get to live here for free as long as you're attending the community college, but if you want food, you're gonna have to make it yourself."

You look at your mom, disappointed but understanding. The fact is, you owe her a lot for letting you stay here, when other parents may have just kicked you out the moment you turned eighteen. Still... you'd really hoped she could make you some bacon and eggs.

Right when you think that, your mom's demeanor shifts. The authoritative look in her eyes fades, to be replaced by... by what? Resignation? No... as you're trying to figure it out, she says in an odd, sing-song manner, "Okay, Sam, I'll make you some bacon and eggs," and she stands up and walks to the fridge.

For an instant, you're surprised, but very quickly it hits you. You're wearing the Manipulator. You wanted her to do something. She's doing it. The damned thing works.

The corners of your mouth curl upward into an excited smile, as you imagine the possibilities that lie before you. "Gee, thanks mom," you intone, while she works on your food. "You're the best."