Chapter 62: Is Meg Going to Get a Boyfriend?
As soon as the Griffin family deposited their luggage in their temporary residence, Peter eagerly rushed next door.
"Hey, is this the free continental breakfast they promised online? Wait—it's a barbecue!" Peter exclaimed, his eyes widening at the spread of grilled meats.
At that moment, a distinguished-looking man stepped forward with an overly pleasant smile. "That's right! You must be Peter. I'm Dean Armitage, the mayor of this fine town, and this is my wife, Missy!"
Peter looked at the elegant woman raising a coffee cup in greeting and immediately blurted out, "Wow! You must be an amazing mother, because the first time I saw you, I wanted to call you Mom!"
Missy's smile froze momentarily as she glanced at her husband with an expression that clearly asked: Is this guy brain-damaged?
"Ahem!" Dean coughed awkwardly, thrown off by Peter's tactlessness. He quickly changed the subject. "My wife is a psychiatrist. Her warm demeanor comes from years of helping people through therapy. When you have time, she'd be happy to offer you a session. But for now, please—join the party! We've been waiting for you."
"Haha, awesome! Can I eat everything?" Peter asked, already reaching for a massive T-bone steak without waiting for an answer.
After several enthusiastic bites, Peter turned toward the house and shouted, "Lois! Chris! Get out here and enjoy this barbecue feast!"
Lois, who had just poured herself some iced tea, heard Peter's call and picked up her glass. She was actually getting hungry anyway.
"Hehe, let's go see what these brainwashed idiots are up to!" Stewie muttered, following Lois on his stubby legs, still clutching Rupert.
Chris followed as well. He was genuinely curious to see what the Family Guy universe's version of body-snatching cultists actually looked like.
In this world with supernatural abilities, it probably wasn't something as crude as simple hypnosis, right?
"Okay, let me introduce everyone. This is Dean and his wife Missy. They run this town, so if you need anything, they're your go-to people," Peter said between mouthfuls of steak, gesturing vaguely with his greasy hand.
Dean looked at Lois and Chris with unmistakable satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with barely concealed excitement. After exchanging pleasantries, he said, "This is my home, right next door to where you're staying. Please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all."
Hearing Dean's generous offer, Peter's eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning.
Chris gave Dean a sympathetic look. This poor bastard clearly had no idea what he'd just unleashed by telling Peter Griffin not to worry about being a bother.
He's definitely going to regret that, Chris thought.
"Oh, hello! I'm Lois, Peter's wife. These are our children—Chris, Meg, and Stewie. And this is Brian, our... closest family member," Lois said diplomatically, introducing the talking dog.
After mentally cataloging each family member, Missy's eyes flickered with calculation. She approached Chris with a tall glass of lemonade, smiling warmly. "Our town promotes healthy living, so we don't serve alcohol at these gatherings. I hope this beverage is acceptable?"
"Thank you! And please, don't let my size fool you—I'm actually only fifteen years old, not even close to legal drinking age," Chris said casually, accepting the drink.
Upon hearing Chris's age, both Dean and Missy's faces lit up with barely suppressed joy. They clearly hadn't expected such a prime specimen to be so young—which meant decades of use for whoever acquired his body.
As Chris stood before Missy, he detected a subtle fluctuation emanating from the woman—some kind of energy that could subtly influence emotions and mental states.
Recognizing this ability, Chris immediately understood. 'Some form of psychic power. Combined with her background as a psychiatrist, she can probably achieve a form of coercive hypnosis.'
However, looking at his family members eating and drinking without a care in the world, Chris genuinely couldn't figure out who this woman could possibly hypnotize successfully.
Given Stewie's bizarre genius brain structure, this woman would probably end up getting reverse-hypnotized by the infant.
Brian was an intelligent canine with a naturally skeptical mind—her weak psychic abilities probably wouldn't work any better than getting him stoned on catnip. Or dog-nip. Whatever.
As for hypnotizing Meg... Chris was genuinely afraid this woman would suffer some kind of psychic backlash that would turn her into a vegetable.
Peter didn't even need hypnosis. Offer him two Twinkies and a promise of unlimited TV, and he'd probably sell out his entire family willingly.
So the only person in the Griffin family who could realistically be hypnotized was probably Lois?
Chris glanced at Lois, who was cheerfully socializing with the cultists, then secretly shook his head. Lois had an extremely violent latent personality lurking beneath her suburban mom exterior.
If this woman accidentally triggered Lois's dark side, then if there was even one survivor left in this entire town, it would mean Lois was in an exceptionally good mood.
From the episodes Chris had watched before arriving in this universe, Lois sometimes did things that could only be described as completely unhinged when pursuing her goals.
Anyone who claimed Lois didn't have a severely disturbed alternate personality was either lying or hadn't been paying attention.
Sighing internally for these doomed cultists, Chris sipped the beverage in his hand.
He smacked his lips thoughtfully. The taste of Ambien mixed with lemonade is actually pretty decent. I should try making this combination myself sometime—minus the drugging people part, obviously.
Then Chris sampled some of the grilled meat. The taste was acceptable—just slightly less flavorful than what Lois made at home, though he couldn't tell if that was due to the cook's skill or some residual psychic influence affecting the town itself.
After sampling everything, Chris figured it was time for the sleeping pills to take effect, so he turned to Lois, who was engaged in animated conversation with several residents. "Mom, I'm feeling pretty sleepy. I think I'll head back and rest."
Hearing Chris speak, Lois immediately put down her glass and asked with concern, "Are you too tired from the drive? How's the rest of your body feeling? Any nausea or headaches?"
Chris smiled reassuringly. "It's nothing, Mom. I just woke up way too early this morning and didn't get enough sleep."
Seeing Chris's calm demeanor, Lois relaxed. "Alright then, you go rest. Come get us if you need anything."
Dean, who had been monitoring Chris the entire time, visibly relaxed when he saw the teenager return to the house alone.
He'd put five doses of sleeping medication in that drink. By all logic, Chris should have passed out at the table twenty minutes ago, but only now was he showing signs of drowsiness.
Dean could only marvel at Chris's extraordinary constitution—and mentally added another zero to the base auction price he'd been considering.
Watching Chris—who was by far the most valuable and potentially dangerous target—leave the scene, Dean surveyed the remaining Griffin family members. Aside from Lois, who would fetch a premium price, the others were just filler.
Fortunately, two clients had already put down deposits on the fat guy and the dog, so at least those two wouldn't be a complete loss.
As for that unfortunate-looking daughter? Dean studied Meg's reasonably healthy physique, considered for a moment, then called his son over.
"What is it, Dad?" Jeremy, who'd just turned eighteen, had been assisting his parents with this business for several years now, though usually he specialized in finding prey and luring tourists to town through online ads and fake reviews.
This was his first time handling victims after they'd already arrived, and he wasn't sure what approach to take.
Dean looked at his son with an unchanged expression. "See that girl over there? I want you to pretend you're interested in her romantically. Lead her down to the lake and dispose of her."
Jeremy glanced at Meg without any visible reaction to her appearance—he'd learned long ago not to judge people by their looks in this business. He simply asked, "Don't you need me to keep her alive for processing?"
Dean was pleased with his son's professional obedience. He said decisively, "No. Kill her and dump the body in the lake. Make sure it sinks to the bottom—use the cinder blocks in the boathouse."
Jeremy, having received clear instructions, immediately approached Meg with a practiced charming smile.
"Hi there! I'm Jeremy," he said warmly, extending his hand.
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