emeyel
The football sailed over Ron's head. As he jumped futilely, he was blindsided by not two, not three, but four defenders.
Seventeen years later, he awoke in an unfamiliar room.
The strap snaps against flesh. Once. Twice. Three times, and then the pain is beyond counting. Every crop burning, chilling against bare skin.
Karuṇā.
Boing. Boing boing boingboing. Boing.
"What the -- ?!?!?"
"Bet you never knew an erection could do THAT!"
"No, I sure didn't ... so, exactly where did you get an erector set with so many springs?"
"HOOPTY DOO!!! HOOPTY DOO!! HOOPTY DOO!! HOOPTY -- "
"Your honor, I'm afraid I'm going to have to move for a mistrial."
"Mistrial granted."
There were huge piles of money everywhere, from one end of the room to the other. It would have taken years to count it all, and it was stacked all the way to the ceiling.
It was just too bad that Jimmy was trapped inside the vault.
"So wait, you're telling me that you worship three gods?"
"No - no, look, it's very simple. I worship ONE GOD - there are just three persons in this ONE GOD."
"So ... you're saying your god is three people?"
"No!"
"That's preposterous!" The CEO looked out of the window at the protesters below. "I've *earned* my salary. Have them all arrested!"
"Right away, sir!" The lickspittle disappeared down the hallway.
"I am now ready for some football," I announced, settling myself into my easy chair. The remote, however, was not in its usual place. "Um ... has anyone seen the remote?"
Georgina, my 4-year-old, giggled, then burped softly.
There was tinfoil everywhere. On the bed, in the dresser drawers, covering the light fixtures - even the one on the ceiling. I guess that probably should have tipped me off that ... well, that something just wasn't quite right.
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