“Join up with The MadMen, or go mad yourself.” That’s all the letter said. Victor closed it feeling queasy. He knew that The MadMen were a local group of anarchists; presumably insane. He felt a rush of panic and desperation. “Would they come for me should i say no? What would they do!?” he thought. He took a deep breath, and slouched down in his recliner. There he entered a disturbed sleep. He dreamt his entire family was at risk from these mischief makers. His mind was no better when he awoke the next day.
At breakfast he was nervous. At lunch he was troubled. At dinner he was near hysterics. “How can i function if my days are nothing but paranoia!?” he questioned.
That night he slept not a wink. Neither did he the next night, or the following. He stopped shaving, stopped showing up to work and stopped behaving rationally. By the end of the month, a raving Victor showed up infront of The MadMen. His first task was to leave a letter for a Dr. Evans. It read: “Join up with The MadMen, or go mad yourself.”