Domo leaving Colon's.R.us - right before he entered the police all-time record for fastest speed ever recorded by a motorcycle leaving a colon clinic.
Previously in Part 1
Domo escaped torture by the WVA and became the only survivor of his species. Professor Pintim fought against time to fix the BRCA 1 mutation that was responsible for the cancer that raged through his system.
The story continues...
Pintim and Domo arrived at their local Colon's.R.us clinic undetected, thanks to Pintim's other-worldly stealth mechanisms. Domo's stomach pump and colonic went textbook perfect. Back home, Pintim carried him to the roof to take his first vitamin D hit, a paramount element for Domo's recovery. As he laid on the warm concrete a strange sensation washed through his body. If his blood had spontaneously evolved into warm honey and now frolicked with abandon through his veins, Domo would tell you that's exactly how it felt. He liked it. Pintim laid by his side. Her eyelids finally beat her mind into full submission. Time passed under nobody’s watch.
That afternoon, Pintim’s shadowy assistant delivered boxes of produce. The professor worked fastidiously in the kitchen while Domo sat in his miniature infrared sauna like pillow stuffing in a wooden tissue box. Fruits were cut, broths made, juices cleverly combined. Strange herb combinations loosened toxic waste that had stuck fast in Domo's body – the last bastion of his BRCA 1 mutation.
Professor Pintim and Domo harvesting vitamin D on the roof.Days passed with unchanging routine: raw food meals, sun baths, tai chi sessions, sauna, hydration and rest. His proprioceptors read new, subtler sensations. Domo suspected that he could read people’s thoughts too. On the last day of each week, Pintim altered Domo's regimen by replacing one of his solid meals with juice or broth. By the fourth week, he drank only liquids - vibrant chlorophyll and juices of every colour. Those were sensational days; literally.
The toxic sludge didn't have a chance; his BRCA 1 mutation had lost the war. Domo felt transparent like he was constructed out of raw energy, held together by a jelly force field of new mightiness.
Pintim’s ring tone violently broke Domo’s sleep. His body jolted with fear. Domo never heard the sound of a cell phone outside of a torture room. His eyes dilated as he recalled those dark days; horrible monsters dialing their phones, ordering take-out which became murderous tools for Domo's next gruesome session. Pintim’s face looked tense, her phone pressed too hard against her ear. She answered yes six times in the same note, then snapped it shut. She stared softly at Domo while her mind raced to find answers.
“We have to leave,” she whispered, “Right now!”
Troi uses prescience to connect with the BRCA 1 mutation that had taken refuge behind Domo's intestinal plaque.Like the way a mother speaks calmly to a child who stands one foot away from imminent death, Pintim told Domo to listen very carefully. She told him that he had to learn - very quickly - how to teleport. Pintim assured him that it was actually quite simple when you knew how. She needed to take Domo home. To her surprise, Domo pulled it off after just three very embarrassing attempts, and one combustive nose bleed.
Commander Troi was pacing Pintim’s living room when they appeared. Troi wrapped Domo with a suffocating cuddle that made him gargle, spit and blush. After the excitement of arrival died down, Pintim's long, monotone debriefing hypnotised Domo into a deep sleep. Troi shared her intelligence about Domo’s henchmen. They had been looking for him since his escape and were closing in.
Domo leaves with his new friends.Late into the night Troi worked Bodytalk over Domo while he purred. His subtle energy field revealed the whole story. Domo's BRCA 1 genetic mutation had switched on as a direct result of what his torturers did. His mother had passed damaged genetic code to Domo because of the same abuse that she suffered at the hands of the WVA punks. “They knew what they were doing,"said Troi holding back her grief. "Breaking genes through inversing the laws of nature. I hope the government doesn't get wind of their strategy!” Pintim managed a sleepy nod.
A capture from Domo's memory. His last image of Pintim.
Later that day, Pintim led Domo to the outskirts of the woodland. A few animals curious of their commotion drew near. It would have looked like a still photo, with everybody standing frozen for what seemed like an age. All eyes stayed with Domo. They waited for his impulse to move, and leave when he was ready.
The rest, as we know, is history.