Threads (part 1)

Lord knows why Troy was spinning around in a circle to see how long it would take to make himself too dizzy to stand but he was. It was a very childish thing to do but Troy is a very childish man.
He shuns responsibilty as if it was an old school chum who he didn't really like at school, he makes fart noises on the packed tube trains and sniggers to himself as people tutt with disdain at this inappropriate tube train etiquette, he still hangs around music stores near the fashionable bands as if knowing which band will be popular for three weeks is a substitute for substance, he thinks that when he wears his T-shirt that says "Stand Still While I Check Out Your Tits" he's being funny, he is not.
It's not without irony then that one of the most stupidly boorish and immature men to be found walking the Earth, should upon stoping spinning around, find himself not staggering like a clumsy idiot like he, or anyone else, would expect to. But on an alien spaceship.
While he had been putting all his energies and concentration into spinning like a berk Troy had completely failed to notice that a beam of light had shone down, allowed for this strange spinning motion and took him. Took him up. Up into the alien spaceship.
Troy's head stopped spinning eventually and because he expected to find himself prone on the ground near to where he'd started spinning it was extra confusing to find himself strapped to a metal bench the sort of which you'd be likely to spot if you were watching a detective show and the murder victim was lying on a slab in a morgue being poked and proded by medical types trying to ascertain why the dead thing should no longer be alive and which dastardly murderer might have had the means, the motive and the skills to turn a living thing into a dead one.
Troy couldn't move any of his usual moving parts except his eyes and his fingers. He'd been restrained by a series of sturdy straps and something that was holding his head down that felt more like a clamp. He was still feeling a little woozy from the spinning but it hadn't been the first time Troy had had a bit of a spin and this wooziness felt more drug enduced than the after effects of his spinning antics. He had a tentative and restricted feel around with his fingers but all that he could work out was that he wasn't wearing very many clothes.
Troy's stupid brain started to try to assemble his thoughts about what was going on into some kind of coherent thought process. But the unusual situation that Troy found himself in coupled with his natural idiocy made this a very tricky thing for Troy to accomplish.
He was struggling to make sense of this situation and his ability to compute logically what might be going on didn't work that well at the best of times and these, clearly, weren't the best of times. Troy just didn't ahve the natural capabilities to tell himself that this situation was by far the weirdest and most dangerous one that someone might find themself in, it wasn't something that he was going to get his head around at any point soon.
As far as Troy could tell he was being held captive, and against his wishes as well, in some form of sterile, medical facility by a person or persons as yet unknown. Normally people finding themselves in such a situation when they havn't had special forces training or weren't some sort of master Dan martial artist or they weren't Clint Eastwood or Lee Marvin would probably panic. It's not everyday that you find yourself held captive by forces unknown in a strange medical facility but Troy's not most people and he didn't panic and that's not because he was Clint Eastwood or Lee Marvin or a martial artist and he certainly hadn't had any special forces training. It was because he was an idiotic man-child with all the common sense of an egg.
Troy, in fact, settled back and waited to see what would happen next. It's the kind of guy that he was. A stupid, vain, thoughtless, staggering dolt. Although, as per usual, Troy due to a naturally low boredom threshold and because he was just that stupid, started to get the urge to scratch his man vegetables, his term not mine, which became an all consuming sensation. He tried to free his wrist from the straps anchoring them to the stainless steel bench but whoever had strapped him down knew his way around a restraining device and he was completely unable to get enough purchase to give his delicate area the attention he felt it needed. He felt the need to complain to someone about this state of affairs but as yet there hadn't been anyone to complain to.
Until now. A face appeared in his line of vision. It was not Human.