Madame Illusia turned her attention to the homophobic deadbeat dad and spoke confidently.
"Well, Mark, I think I speak for your whole family when I say that you are a truly terrible and useless father. You don't appreciate your wife working long hours to support you and your kids. You just want her to stay home and have sex with you. All your family wants is for you to start helping at home and stop yelling at them. Well, I can make that happen easily enough. Margot doesn't want you as a husband any more. I don't think I want you as a human being!"
The audience jeered Mark and cheered Madame. Mark looked enraged. He looked like he wanted to say something very insulting. And then he just looked confused. He started grabbing around behind himself. When he finally brought his hand back around where the audience could see it, he was holding something long, thin and flexible with small metal prongs on the end of it.
"What the frick is this?" he asked, staring at it. Some of the audience started giggling a little bit.
"Why, it's your new power cord, Mark!" said the Madame, "We don't want you to run out of energy to help clean the house, do we? Now come here, let's get you plugged in."
She grabbed the cord and dragged it over toward an outlet near the front of the stage. "What is this, a joke?" he asked, and then she plugged it in. "Oh, OH MAN," he moaned, his eyes widening, and then his body relaxed. "Aw, yeah, that's good," he said idly, his shoulders slumping forward noticeably. The audience was laughing heartily now. The warm, soothing feeling all throughout Mark was too nice for him to care. After a moment or two of bliss, he sat down, holding his legs together tightly in front of him on the floor. His arms were nearly straight down at his sides. The Madame allowed herself a giggle when his legs and chest started turning jet black, clothes and all. Soon his legs were just a one-piece rectangular plastic platform instead of a pair of human limbs. His arms and torso had fused into an angular plastic tower of some sort, with the electric cable sticking out of it. Mark was still in his trance. He woke up a bit, though, when he finally noticed how limiting this was.
"Hey, what's going on? I can't feel my legs! Why can't I move my arms? Where ARE my arms?!"
The audience laughed again. The Madame said, "You won't be needing those any more, Mark. Everything except your head is just a charging platform."
Mark yelped, looking down at himself, and then the strangest thing happened. His head tumbled from atop the L-shaped charging unit his body had become, and it landed right on the flat part that used to be his legs. He was face-down in his own lap now and could only see black plastic. The audience gasped. Their illustrious host reassured them.
"Not to worry, everyone! Mark is still just fine. In fact, he'll be better than he ever was before much longer."
Mark himself was not so easily assuaged.
"What's happening to me? Is this a murder? Please don't kill me, Margot! I'll give you the divorce you want. I won't even ask for custody!"
Everyone was amazed at his sudden outburst. Primarily because they didn't understand how his disembodied head was still speaking! If they could see his face lying flat against his charging platform, they would have seen that he wouldn't be speaking much longer. His mouth was getting pulled wide open, leaving him with a toothy grin that he couldn't close. He's top and bottom rows of teeth changed into two cylindrical brushes that he could spin against each other. He stopped spinning them almost immediately, though, because he thought it it felt too weird.
Mark's severed head began to flatten, and his charging unit body then began to shrink. His ears were completely underneath his wider, more circular head, along with the rest of his face. Everyone could only see his scalp, which changed to plastic just like the rest of him. For Mark, the sounds of the audience became muffled and began to fade away. He could still feel his ears, though, and their feelings were freaking him out! They were getting rounder and partially detaching from him. They spun a little bit, stopping when they made contact with the floor for the first time. Mark's head was now a big thick disk with wheels and brushes underneath.
Marks head reconnected to his charger body through a couple of charge points which had opened on his flat, downward-facing forehead. He shivered suddenly, feeling the electricity again. His nose became a dust sensor, and he suddenly became disgusted by the tremendous amount of filth on the stage floor. His eyes began to rearrange on his face, until they ended up on the rounded sides of his flat, cylindrical form. He could no longer open or shut them, but he could finally see somewhere other than straight down again. His new vision was strange, but it was good enough for him to realize that he wouldn't bump anything to anything if he moved from his charging station.
* It's way too dirty down here, I ... I ... I can't just stay here like this! I've got to, got to ... *
A frantic urge arose inside Mark, so he started spinning his new wheels and brushes again. He had to move! Had to leave the blessed electric connection behind him, just for a little while, so he could ... eat all the dirt he was smelling?!
The family, the Madame, and the audience all watched in wonder as a robot vacuum started exploring the stage with a buzzing noise. There was a standing ovation for the impressive feat of transformation that Madame Illusia had accomplished. Mark could not hear them, but he could see that they were not obstacles to his compulsive cleaning of the stage.