One-Off: Cancel the Night
Pitch black.
Groggy.
Disoriented.
Jimmy came to his senses, but wasn't so sure what had happened prior to this, or what was going on at this particular moment. He felt dizzy; his head heavy from something... he had no immediate recollection of.
He tried to open his eyes; but couldn't see anything. "Oh God! Eyesight! Have I lost my eyesight!?" Jimmy started to panic but did his best to push the fear down, and assess his situation. He tried to reach for his eyes but felt his hands restrained. "Hands tied? Oh God!" he thought. At the time, he wasn't as concerned of the fact that both his hands were tied; he was more focused on his apparent lack of vision. He blinked several times trying to get a glimpse of... anything. Nothing! He tried again, hoping that his constant eyelid movement would somehow activate his sight. He blinked a few times more; he felt his eyelids and lashes brushing against something. "Blindfold?" He tested his theory by squinting his eyes and moving his cheeks. His suspicion was verified. "Oh, thank God!... So, I'm blindfolded." Jimmy opened his eyes behind the cloth on his face, trying to make anything out of the darkness directly in front of him; even if just a faint hint of light. All he ended up with was a sliver of brightness from the gaps between the cloth and the skin at both sides of his nose.
He shifted his attention to his hands. Jimmy now realized that both of his arms were tied down; quite tightly. "Arm chair? Swivel chair?" He tried to shake and swing the seat around, hoping to get some mobility, but without success. At this point, he noticed that his legs were tied to the chair as well. "What the heck!" Jimmy was now genuinely concerned for his safety; his mind racing at the many possibilities regarding his situation.
He tried to open his eyes; but couldn't see anything. "Oh God! Eyesight! Have I lost my eyesight!?" Jimmy started to panic but did his best to push the fear down, and assess his situation. He tried to reach for his eyes but felt his hands restrained. "Hands tied? Oh God!" he thought. At the time, he wasn't as concerned of the fact that both his hands were tied; he was more focused on his apparent lack of vision. He blinked several times trying to get a glimpse of... anything. Nothing! He tried again, hoping that his constant eyelid movement would somehow activate his sight. He blinked a few times more; he felt his eyelids and lashes brushing against something. "Blindfold?" He tested his theory by squinting his eyes and moving his cheeks. His suspicion was verified. "Oh, thank God!... So, I'm blindfolded." Jimmy opened his eyes behind the cloth on his face, trying to make anything out of the darkness directly in front of him; even if just a faint hint of light. All he ended up with was a sliver of brightness from the gaps between the cloth and the skin at both sides of his nose.
He shifted his attention to his hands. Jimmy now realized that both of his arms were tied down; quite tightly. "Arm chair? Swivel chair?" He tried to shake and swing the seat around, hoping to get some mobility, but without success. At this point, he noticed that his legs were tied to the chair as well. "What the heck!" Jimmy was now genuinely concerned for his safety; his mind racing at the many possibilities regarding his situation.
His heartbeat accelerated, but he still tried to stay as calm as possible. Sitting absolutely still, he used his sense of hearing to get an idea of where he was, hoping the sounds and the ambient noise would provide some clues. He turned his head every which way in an effort to absorb as much sound as he could.
"It's useless, Jimmy!"
A voice came from behind him; about ten feet away.
"There ain't nothin' to hear in here. And you're stuck in that chair. You ain't goin' nowhere!"
"Who are you? Where am I?" Jimmy voiced out his query with as much calm and courage as he could project.
"None of that matters right now. Right now... what matters is... I. Know. You!"
Jimmy took note of as much detail as he could from his anonymous companion. He tried to form a profile from what he heard so far. "Male. A bit nasal. Slightly high pitched voice. Jersey accent. Oh God no!!! A mafioso!?" Fearing that he might have been targeted by the Italian mob, he decided to ride the whole thing out, seeing that he couldn't do anything anyway.
"James. Patrick. Fischer. You're an easy catch for a hard man to find... Jimbo! Took me a total of thirty minutes to bag and tag your ass!"
Jimmy decided to engage his captor, hoping it would buy some time for any form of rescue to arrive. "Hard man to find? Sir, I work in the city's most renowned bank. That's the last thing anyone would do if they were hiding: work in a famous company! Maybe you just mistook me for someone else? There must be at least ten James Patrick Fischers in the state!"
"Nice try, Jimbo! You ain't talkin' your way out of this one. I ain't like one of your gullible 'new accounts' clients!" came the mystery guy's reply. "You're exactly who my employer says you are!"
Jimmy tried to remember what had happened before he gained consciousness as he was listening to his captor's tirade. "Okay. It's coming back to me now. I got off work by five o'clock. I went to Starbucks on 405 Broadway, where I was going to meet... Oh God! Marci!"
"You've had this coming, Jimbo! My employer told me this is payback! You're gonna get what's comin' to 'ya!"
Jimmy had already zoned out. His thoughts were now concentrated on his wife. "Marci! Oh God! I hope they didn't get you, too... Wait. Wait. She called. Yes. She called me. She said she had to cancel the night. So... she never came to the coffee shop. Yes! She never came to meet me. Oh, thank God!"
"And when my employer comes, that'll be the end of you!"
"But how did I end up here?" Jimmy was still completely not paying attention to the man, as he tried to piece together the events of the evening. "After Marci called... I got my coffee... and read the newspaper... THE COFFEE!!! It must have been the coffee."
"This'll be a night you won't soon forget, Jimbo!" The man was still villain monologuing.
"Sir, please listen to me," Jimmy pleaded, raising his voice and releasing it aimlessly. "I don't know what this is all about! But I'm sure... I'm not the man you want! Please! Let me go! Please! I need to make sure that my wife is alright! Please!"
"Your wife, huh?" Jimmy noticed his captor's voice coming closer to him. "Your. Beautiful. Wife... Marci!" Jimmy was startled by the man's mention of his beloved's name. "How would he know...?" Jimmy wondered, getting even more worried about his wife. The captor's voice got closer still. "Marcella. Peterson. Fischer!" He senses the man now standing behind him. "Oh, don't worry about her, Jimbo!" The man leaned closer to Jimmy's ear and whispered, "I took care of her, too."
"Noooo!!! You didn't!!! You son of a... What have you done with her!?!?!?" Jimmy, at this point was already enraged, and wildly jostling in the chair he was so helplessly tied to. "Let me go! Please!... Marci... Please..." Jimmy sobs and resigns to his situation. "Please..."
The man backed away from Jimmy, and stayed silent.
As Jimmy quieted himself down, he began to sense someone approaching him. He noticed that these were a different set of footsteps. "Gentler steps," he still managed to analyze what was going on with his ears. "Seems to be a female. Stilettos? Definitely, female. Who could this be now?"
"Hello?" Jimmy ventured a greeting, hoping this was a non-hostile addition to the scenario.
No response. Jimmy felt anxious at the uncertain role of the woman who just walked in.
"This is it, Jimbo," the man broke the brief interlude of silence. "My employer is here. You're gonna get it now!"
Jimmy heard exchanged whispers between the man and the woman, but he was so physically tired and emotionally fed up with the whole tied-to-the-chair-blindfolded shtick that he just didn't care any more. Moments later he heard the man's footsteps receding farther and farther away. He was left with just the woman in the room.
Frustrated, Jimmy shouted out, "Fine! Go ahead! Do what you want! I'm right here! I'm strapped to this chair! I'm blindfolded! I'm helpless! Go ahead! Beat up a helpless, sightless man!!!"
Silence.
The woman started to move closer to Jimmy. He could tell by the sound her stilettos were making that she was closing in.
Jimmy braced himself, imagining this lady to be something of a martial arts expert sent to squeeze some information out of him. "What information? What's she gonna beat out of me? The bank's minimum initial deposit requirement? Annual savings account interest rates? I don't need to get beat up for that! I can give her a brochure!!!" he thought, still managing to be whimsical.
"Lady, I don't know what sort of info you've got on me, or whatever you think I've done... let me just tell you right now... you got the wrong guy! So, please just let me go!"
The woman circled Jimmy a few times before grabbing him by the hair, and yanking his head backward.
"Oh! You're gonna intimidate me that way, huh? Very original!!!"
The woman then let go of Jimmy's hair and went around him one more time.
Silence.
Jimmy let out a deep sigh, and hung his head low. As he did so, he felt the woman placing her hands on both his thighs, slowly making their way up his groin.
"Hey! What the... Stop! Stop that!" Jimmy struggled to shake the woman off him, to no avail. "Stop! I'm a married man!"
The woman still didn't make a sound. Her hands move up to his chest.
"Hands off! Off!" Jimmy protested. "What kind of torture is this?"
The woman's hands make their way to Jimmy's face. She pulls it closer to hers, and, finally, speaks into his ear: "The payback kind, my Love!"
Upon hearing the woman's familiar voice , Jimmy exclaimed in relief and delight, "MARCI?!?!?! The heck!!!"
"Happy anniversary, Jim!" She kissed him on the lips. He kissed back. Passionately. "I told you I'd get you one of these days. And I told you you wouldn't see it coming!"
"You messer-upper, you!"
"I love you, Jim."
"I love you back, Mars!"
"It's useless, Jimmy!"
A voice came from behind him; about ten feet away.
"There ain't nothin' to hear in here. And you're stuck in that chair. You ain't goin' nowhere!"
"Who are you? Where am I?" Jimmy voiced out his query with as much calm and courage as he could project.
"None of that matters right now. Right now... what matters is... I. Know. You!"
Jimmy took note of as much detail as he could from his anonymous companion. He tried to form a profile from what he heard so far. "Male. A bit nasal. Slightly high pitched voice. Jersey accent. Oh God no!!! A mafioso!?" Fearing that he might have been targeted by the Italian mob, he decided to ride the whole thing out, seeing that he couldn't do anything anyway.
"James. Patrick. Fischer. You're an easy catch for a hard man to find... Jimbo! Took me a total of thirty minutes to bag and tag your ass!"
Jimmy decided to engage his captor, hoping it would buy some time for any form of rescue to arrive. "Hard man to find? Sir, I work in the city's most renowned bank. That's the last thing anyone would do if they were hiding: work in a famous company! Maybe you just mistook me for someone else? There must be at least ten James Patrick Fischers in the state!"
"Nice try, Jimbo! You ain't talkin' your way out of this one. I ain't like one of your gullible 'new accounts' clients!" came the mystery guy's reply. "You're exactly who my employer says you are!"
Jimmy tried to remember what had happened before he gained consciousness as he was listening to his captor's tirade. "Okay. It's coming back to me now. I got off work by five o'clock. I went to Starbucks on 405 Broadway, where I was going to meet... Oh God! Marci!"
"You've had this coming, Jimbo! My employer told me this is payback! You're gonna get what's comin' to 'ya!"
Jimmy had already zoned out. His thoughts were now concentrated on his wife. "Marci! Oh God! I hope they didn't get you, too... Wait. Wait. She called. Yes. She called me. She said she had to cancel the night. So... she never came to the coffee shop. Yes! She never came to meet me. Oh, thank God!"
"And when my employer comes, that'll be the end of you!"
"But how did I end up here?" Jimmy was still completely not paying attention to the man, as he tried to piece together the events of the evening. "After Marci called... I got my coffee... and read the newspaper... THE COFFEE!!! It must have been the coffee."
"This'll be a night you won't soon forget, Jimbo!" The man was still villain monologuing.
"Sir, please listen to me," Jimmy pleaded, raising his voice and releasing it aimlessly. "I don't know what this is all about! But I'm sure... I'm not the man you want! Please! Let me go! Please! I need to make sure that my wife is alright! Please!"
"Your wife, huh?" Jimmy noticed his captor's voice coming closer to him. "Your. Beautiful. Wife... Marci!" Jimmy was startled by the man's mention of his beloved's name. "How would he know...?" Jimmy wondered, getting even more worried about his wife. The captor's voice got closer still. "Marcella. Peterson. Fischer!" He senses the man now standing behind him. "Oh, don't worry about her, Jimbo!" The man leaned closer to Jimmy's ear and whispered, "I took care of her, too."
"Noooo!!! You didn't!!! You son of a... What have you done with her!?!?!?" Jimmy, at this point was already enraged, and wildly jostling in the chair he was so helplessly tied to. "Let me go! Please!... Marci... Please..." Jimmy sobs and resigns to his situation. "Please..."
The man backed away from Jimmy, and stayed silent.
As Jimmy quieted himself down, he began to sense someone approaching him. He noticed that these were a different set of footsteps. "Gentler steps," he still managed to analyze what was going on with his ears. "Seems to be a female. Stilettos? Definitely, female. Who could this be now?"
"Hello?" Jimmy ventured a greeting, hoping this was a non-hostile addition to the scenario.
No response. Jimmy felt anxious at the uncertain role of the woman who just walked in.
"This is it, Jimbo," the man broke the brief interlude of silence. "My employer is here. You're gonna get it now!"
Jimmy heard exchanged whispers between the man and the woman, but he was so physically tired and emotionally fed up with the whole tied-to-the-chair-blindfolded shtick that he just didn't care any more. Moments later he heard the man's footsteps receding farther and farther away. He was left with just the woman in the room.
Frustrated, Jimmy shouted out, "Fine! Go ahead! Do what you want! I'm right here! I'm strapped to this chair! I'm blindfolded! I'm helpless! Go ahead! Beat up a helpless, sightless man!!!"
Silence.
The woman started to move closer to Jimmy. He could tell by the sound her stilettos were making that she was closing in.
Jimmy braced himself, imagining this lady to be something of a martial arts expert sent to squeeze some information out of him. "What information? What's she gonna beat out of me? The bank's minimum initial deposit requirement? Annual savings account interest rates? I don't need to get beat up for that! I can give her a brochure!!!" he thought, still managing to be whimsical.
"Lady, I don't know what sort of info you've got on me, or whatever you think I've done... let me just tell you right now... you got the wrong guy! So, please just let me go!"
The woman circled Jimmy a few times before grabbing him by the hair, and yanking his head backward.
"Oh! You're gonna intimidate me that way, huh? Very original!!!"
The woman then let go of Jimmy's hair and went around him one more time.
Silence.
Jimmy let out a deep sigh, and hung his head low. As he did so, he felt the woman placing her hands on both his thighs, slowly making their way up his groin.
"Hey! What the... Stop! Stop that!" Jimmy struggled to shake the woman off him, to no avail. "Stop! I'm a married man!"
The woman still didn't make a sound. Her hands move up to his chest.
"Hands off! Off!" Jimmy protested. "What kind of torture is this?"
The woman's hands make their way to Jimmy's face. She pulls it closer to hers, and, finally, speaks into his ear: "The payback kind, my Love!"
Upon hearing the woman's familiar voice , Jimmy exclaimed in relief and delight, "MARCI?!?!?! The heck!!!"
"Happy anniversary, Jim!" She kissed him on the lips. He kissed back. Passionately. "I told you I'd get you one of these days. And I told you you wouldn't see it coming!"
"You messer-upper, you!"
"I love you, Jim."
"I love you back, Mars!"
The suspense! And the sweet finale! So good! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
ReplyDelete: Hahaha. Thank you. There's room for improvement. 😂
ReplyDelete