“What should I call you?” Gregson asked.

“Call me Governor,” the Governor said. “And how about you?”

“Call me Gregson. I just have a few questions for you.”


The Governor sat on a red leather sofa, and motioned for Gregson to do the same. A suit of armor was staring at them, which gave Gregson the feeling that they were being watched.

“Do women regularly go missing on this island?” Gregson asked.

“If they do, they’re always found.”

“But this is the first time the government hired a private investigator, am I right?”


“And why do they go missing?”

“We keep a structured schedule here, kind of like summer camp for blushing brides.”

“Close to university age?” Gregson asked.


The PI couldn’t contain himself any longer. “What is this place?”

“Do you want the real answer, or the dressed-up one?”

“Give it to me naked,” Gregson said.

“Women these days are not fit for marriage, especially university educated upper-class women. This is a reeducation camp, masquerading as a bachelorette fun party. Every once and a while I have a camera man come out to document some new activity that the girls think will end up on TV. It’s a reality show, but it’s not real. It’s a homemaker’s course on how to be a housewife that I found in my grandmother’s basement a decade ago. We have gotten government funding to do this research, from the most powerful men in the country.”

“Is it working?” Gregson asked.

“It does initially, but it wears-off, as they sip the cool-aid of the mainstream media and listen to their feminist friends when they get back home.”

“Why are men paying for this?”

“Because if they don’t pay for it now, they end up paying for it later,” the Governor said. “We guarantee up to 6 months, feminist free ideology—then the men are shit out of luck. It’s just enough insurance, for them to get married, and then she changes.”

“It seems like this training is in the women’s favor,” Gregson commented.

“It is, and the men have just realized that. Our enrollment numbers are down 50%.”

And the missing women?” Gregson asked again.

“The learning curve is steep here,” the Governor said. “Some of them get overwhelmed, and they can’t handle the isolation.”

“But this island is teaming with women.”

“Exactly. If they spend 6 months with each other in a confined space, they start to act like hens without a rooster.”

“What happens then?” Gregson asked.

“They’ll mount anything that moves. I was ordered to castrate one of the guards by a barking mad General. You don’t disagree with 3 stars.”

“Is that legal?”

“There is a stipulation in the fine print of their contract. It was a big surprise to Jeremy, when he found out. He didn’t let go of his balls easily.”

Gregson made a mental note to always check the fine print.

2 thoughts on “Chapter 6 Always Read the Fine Print

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