It was dark and I was alone. Finally, alone.

  • It was dark and I was alone. Finally, alone. The place in which I was being held was cramped, but peaceful now. I started to move quickly, trying to find something to
  • occupy my time. My thoghts, for some reason, turned to an old flame back in college. I couldn't even remember his name now but as I lay hostage in the trunk I recalled beautiful
  • way she would trap me in her closet, until my clastophobia would kick in. She would hug my nerve wracked body when I finally burst out. Now, laying hostage in the trunk, my escape
  • seemed, well poorly planned. I'm really lousy at escape plans. My basic is "Get out!" or "Get to the Chopper!" But as far as details, well I just can't seem to
  • be bothered by them. "Get out!" and "Get to the Chopper!" did me just fine thank you very much. Well up to now anyway. She gestured towards the bed post with her front paw & barked
  • "What is it girl? Is Timmy stuck under the bed?" I quickly lifted the covers and dust ruffle and bent down to peer underneath the bed. No Timmy. But there was a strange shape
  • That was about two and a half feet long, twice as thick as my arm. This was Susan's bed. I knew better than to touch the lesbian's foreign objects and sought Timmy elsewhere. In
  • a fog about my own sexual identity, I quickly covered what I'd discovered in Susan's bed with a blanket. I heard wretched sobs from underneath the bed ruffle. It was Timmy!
  • I grabbed him and hauled him forth. His face had the haunted look of an eavesdropper who overhears plans for his own murder. Clearly, discretion was too much effort. Lazy Susan!
  • What a dumbwaiter. I pulled him onto the rotating tray & fastened him down with superglue. Then I pushed at the turntable, and he vanished into the cabinet. It was well-deserved.


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