In pursuit of power; A guide to teenage torture devices

I finally finished my OP for Gardner. It somewhat amuses me so here it is.

We all know that Parents, in their endless pursuit for control over their children, discover the things that their children like or dislike the most, then use that information to their advantage. For example, when was the last time that your mom or dad told you that you had to finish your dessert before you could have more vegetables? Or that you couldn’t clean your room until you had gone to a movie with your friends? I personally have never heard such statements come out of my parent’s mouths and don’t expect to any time soon. The reason being that parents use their children’s likes and dislikes to torture them.
Throughout history various methods of torture have been established to fit the needs of the day. People have used everything from boiling in hot oil, to burning at the stake, as a means to provoke obedience and submissiveness in those lower than they in the social hierarchy. As society has advanced, however, parents across the United States have found a more subtle form of torture. Computer deprivation.
The influence of this discovery has been felt in my own life, as well as the lives of numerous friends and acquaintances. To my parent’s credit it is the most effective way to bring me to my knees, begging forgiveness. Lock me in my room? No biggie. I have enough food and entertainment materials, including my laptop, in there to last me till the cows come home. Ground me? Piece of cake. On my computer at home I have 3 different kinds of IM and spend as much time chatting with my friends as I do talking with them. But ground me from my computer and I can guarantee that within 3 hours I’ll be nothing but a whimpering pile of subservient goo.
Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t spend every single moment of my daily life on the computer, though you may not be able to tell due to my obvious lack of a tan. I do in fact enjoy doing stuff outside but due to the frigid nature of Utah County at this time of year, moments are few that I’m willing to sacrifice my appendages to frostbite for the sake of a deep breath of fresh air.
Therefore the source of my trouble lies not with my computer attachment, but rather, with my parent’s knowledge of it. Who knows, with a little luck and a bit of acting skill, I may decide to suddenly become addicted to cleaning, in the hope that my parents would seize the opportunity and restrict me from doing so in future punishments rather than taking my computer away.