The Reverend was only able to pull his eyes away from the intense cruelty he was witnessing on the other side of the glass when Maddy's intermittent outbursts grew to pathetic and traumatized to ignore, they become theatre in their own right for his hunger for suffering. The emotional trauma playing out on her face, the gasps of horror as she watched her friend's tits being sliced up, well, it was almost as good as watching her twitch and groan, trying not to impale herself any worse on the nails poking into her.  He walked closer to her as she babbled and begged for them to  stop, gently stroking her shoulder.<br/><br/>"Hush, poor thing. He can't hear you.  You've already doomed your friend to this, by your stubborn refusal to answer a simple question the moment it was asked, and now she is going to have to suffer through it all. The next time we ask you for something..." he looked back through the glass, as her screams grew louder, the ash being stuffed deep into the cuts on the girl's pretty young breasts. "I can only hope for<em>their</em>sake that you'll learn some obedience and answer right away."  He chuckled, moving in front of her for a second, and bent lower, blatantly looking over her nearly naked body, up and down, just panties and bra and acres of beautiful exposed skin, most of it pressing down on sharp nail points.  He could see under her ass and on the floor, still dry -- no blood yet. "You'll be happy to know that as much as the nails are hurting you, they're not actually making you bleed yet, so looking on the bright side, it can still get a boatload of worse for you too."  Still smiling at her predicament, the screams from the other side of the glass not abating, he moved behind her again, so as not to block her full view of the festivities. As he watched intently with her, he pressed down gently on her shoulders, seeking that perfect level of downward pressure that elicits gasps of maximum pain without actually forcing nail tips through her skin, yet.<br/><br/>A few more minutes crawled by as they watched together, her gasping and him getting harder and harder, as the slices on the suffering girl's tits were painfully sewn up around the packed-in ash, a stitching job that probably would have made the toughest of hockey players scream done like this with neither anesthetic nor compassion.  At last he could hear Maddy's own groans reaching the level he liked and he stopped the gradual increase in weight he was using to force her down onto the nail, keeping her right there.  He was really getting into this, feeling like a married couple enjoying a quiet evening home in front of the TV, except the TV was showing torture of a close personal friend, the couch was bristling with nails, and the camera might come for Maddy at any moment.  Must see TV.<br/><br/>He heard the door open.  Mordecai.  He smiled at the Boss's question. He loved the way Mordecai talked, and hoped his own tone around their victims would convey such a pitiless and relentless sense of brutality soon, so he wouldn't seem out of place when they were looking for help on future jobs.  Ranch property.  Beautiful. "Yeah, Boss, the<em>property</em>filled me in on a couple key pieces of information.  First, let's see, I learned that, how should I put this...you are a sick twisted bastard." He laughed out loud.  "Who knew?"<br/><br/>He slapped her hard on the shoulders, sharing with her just how funny he thought the bitch was, pushing her down even harder for a moment, as he caught his breath to continue.  "But she did also include something about the codes.  Now -- finally, now! -- she's ready to tell them to you.  I don't know though, from watching her, she seems pretty desperate to stop her friends from getting hurt, so if my opinion counts at all on this, I'd say you should be real careful with any codes she gives you.  I don't trust her... sincerity... her desire to help us in any and every way possible, Boss."