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Writing Task #7 - An Annoying Kidnap.
Posted 01-20-2015 at 05:59 PM by An_Jon
Part of my series of writing tasks given to me through this beautiful link here. If you want to add your own suggestions then click there. For this task I was asked by Alexis Rune to describe waking up to the sounds of giggling, and cameras flashing. I had too much to drink last night and I passed out with my shoes on, OR DID I? As always: comments and feedback appreciated, and do enjoy!
Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Jon!
I can hear the crowd going wild. I step out of the black limo with a girl on my arm. I don’t know her name. We were introduced an hour ago by some executive of some film company. I think she’s a model, her face looks familiar from some magazine I glanced at recently while waiting to be interviewed. I don’t care, today isn’t about her; it’s about me. I’m the star. This is my film. This is my premier. This is my moment.
Wait, I’m in a film? I look to my left at a giant billboard. It was my face on it, asleep. On my forehead the words ‘cock whore’ are written. The cameras flash in my eyes, obscuring my vision. A Voice calls me from inside the paparazzi hoard ‘Jon, over here buddy!’ I walk over to the face. It’s griming, familiar. They aren’t holding a camera. ‘Jon, wake up!’ What? Wake u-
My eyes shoot open just as another camera flashes. I see a group of 5 giggling faces huddled around me. My head hurts like fuck.
“What the-“ I try to stand but my hands and legs aren’t going anywhere. “What is this?” I look around the room groggily. It’s a room alright. Nothing more to add at this point. It has light blue walls and a window with thin translucent drapes around it.
“Good morning, cock-whore” exclaims one of the female voices in a pitch which is far too shrieky for the level of hungover I am. Also, who the fuck is calling who a cock-whore? Bitch. “Rise and shine!” She slaps me on the cheek three or four times while doing that annoying elongated high pitch thing with the word ‘shine’. I want to strangle the bitch already, but my hands still appear to be stuck.
“And who might you be?” I ask. Seriously though, what is up with my hands. I need them to rub my aching forehead better.
“Your captives,” the annoying bitch replies. Oh, of course. I’m tied up. Perfect. I also appear to be naked. Perfecter. They did leave my shoes on though, nice touch. I usually can’t take my trousers off without taking my shoes off first, so kudos for that.
“You’re a star, Jonny Cock-Whore”. One of the two males were talking now. He looked like the kind of hipster who sold his entire soul to the devil in order to be able to grow a beard. “Everybody knows what you do.”
“First of all,” I start replying, my head too hurty for this, “you are utter shite at tying knots. see?” I twist my hand a bit and the right one comes free. They make no attempt to stop me while I untie my left one. “Secondly, stop calling me cock-whore. I only take cock in my spare time and I can give up any time I like.” I was pleased with that. My wit must be improving thanks to being able to rub my forehead. “Finally: what on earth are you talking about?”
“Me?” Asks the Annoying Bitch in an annoying tone.
“No, Beard Twat over there.” I point to Beard Twat.
“My name is actually Phil, so please use it.” No. He pauses as though I’m going to apologise. When it becomes clear I’m not going to he continues, “you got a little drunk last night, Jon. Remember what you drank?”
“If I was in a state to remember that I wouldn’t be here would I?” I’m probably being too sarcastic right now, but these people didn’t seem dangerous. Just annoying. Wait a minute. I have a sudden realisation that I may have been drugged. “You bastards,” I began. I only went out for one drink with my friend. The familiar male face from my dream earlier was sitting quietly and smugly in the corner away from me. “You drugged me, didn’t you?”
“Smart cock-whore” replied Beard Twat. I want to rip the thing off his face. I find that my ankles were bound together with a pair of locked handcuffs. Why they didn’t put that on one of my hands I’ll never know. “You see, we were bored and wanted someone to play with.”
“You could have just asked, like a normal person.” I’m growing curious to find out who the two girls who haven’t spoken and I don’t have a recollection of are.
“Yeah, but it’s more fun this way, wouldn’t you agree?” Beard Twat was trying my patience. He spoke with a condescending tone which tugged at whatever part of your body controls how annoyed people make you.
“Here, look at this.” Annoying Bitch approached with a mirror. She held it up to my face. Turns out they’ve written cock-whore on my forehead. One of the two anonymous girls then approach with her phone out.
“You see, I have a lot of followers on Twitter. We reckoned we could start by spreading your face around the internet.” She showed me her phone. My passed out naked body was on there, along with the words cock-whore. Someone had cum on my face. “Look at the retweets”, she recommends. I let out a whistle. 103K, that’s quite a lot.
“See Jonny Cock-Whore, you’re famous!” Beard Twat was waving something in my face. My wallet. We told people your full name, address and bank details too. This was an irritating start to my day.
“So, just to make things clear. You two are running the operation”, I motion to Beard Twat and Annoying Bitch, “and you’re famous on the internet”, I motion to Anonymous Girl #1. “So, what’s your roles in this?” I motion to the final two.
“I work in the bar you were at last night. I supplied the drugs we put in your drink.” So that’s where Familiar Face had come from. “Her, over there? She’s my wife. We make the drugs together.” Well, that was far more boring than I’d hoped for. Beard Twat moved over to me with a key in my hand and unlocked the cuffs on my ankles.
“You’re free to go.” He motioned to the door.
“You’re letting me go?” I was confused.
“Yep, off you go.”
“Wait, so you’re going to let me go and tell the police about all of this. I mean, her Twitter account must be pretty traceable.”
“You’re right, maybe we should kidnap you, keep you as a sex slave and then kill you; just for safety.” Touché. There was an awkward silence for about 10 seconds.
“I think I’m just gonna go.” I start walking. “Where are my clothes?”
“We burned them”. Oh, perfect, but I think I’ll contemplate the mess of my life after I leave. I moved towards the door and tried to open it, but it was stuck closed. “Actually, you’re not free to go.”
A black hood was put over my head, and I felt my hands roughly handcuffed behind my back.
“Oh for fuck sake.”
Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Jon!
I can hear the crowd going wild. I step out of the black limo with a girl on my arm. I don’t know her name. We were introduced an hour ago by some executive of some film company. I think she’s a model, her face looks familiar from some magazine I glanced at recently while waiting to be interviewed. I don’t care, today isn’t about her; it’s about me. I’m the star. This is my film. This is my premier. This is my moment.
Wait, I’m in a film? I look to my left at a giant billboard. It was my face on it, asleep. On my forehead the words ‘cock whore’ are written. The cameras flash in my eyes, obscuring my vision. A Voice calls me from inside the paparazzi hoard ‘Jon, over here buddy!’ I walk over to the face. It’s griming, familiar. They aren’t holding a camera. ‘Jon, wake up!’ What? Wake u-
My eyes shoot open just as another camera flashes. I see a group of 5 giggling faces huddled around me. My head hurts like fuck.
“What the-“ I try to stand but my hands and legs aren’t going anywhere. “What is this?” I look around the room groggily. It’s a room alright. Nothing more to add at this point. It has light blue walls and a window with thin translucent drapes around it.
“Good morning, cock-whore” exclaims one of the female voices in a pitch which is far too shrieky for the level of hungover I am. Also, who the fuck is calling who a cock-whore? Bitch. “Rise and shine!” She slaps me on the cheek three or four times while doing that annoying elongated high pitch thing with the word ‘shine’. I want to strangle the bitch already, but my hands still appear to be stuck.
“And who might you be?” I ask. Seriously though, what is up with my hands. I need them to rub my aching forehead better.
“Your captives,” the annoying bitch replies. Oh, of course. I’m tied up. Perfect. I also appear to be naked. Perfecter. They did leave my shoes on though, nice touch. I usually can’t take my trousers off without taking my shoes off first, so kudos for that.
“You’re a star, Jonny Cock-Whore”. One of the two males were talking now. He looked like the kind of hipster who sold his entire soul to the devil in order to be able to grow a beard. “Everybody knows what you do.”
“First of all,” I start replying, my head too hurty for this, “you are utter shite at tying knots. see?” I twist my hand a bit and the right one comes free. They make no attempt to stop me while I untie my left one. “Secondly, stop calling me cock-whore. I only take cock in my spare time and I can give up any time I like.” I was pleased with that. My wit must be improving thanks to being able to rub my forehead. “Finally: what on earth are you talking about?”
“Me?” Asks the Annoying Bitch in an annoying tone.
“No, Beard Twat over there.” I point to Beard Twat.
“My name is actually Phil, so please use it.” No. He pauses as though I’m going to apologise. When it becomes clear I’m not going to he continues, “you got a little drunk last night, Jon. Remember what you drank?”
“If I was in a state to remember that I wouldn’t be here would I?” I’m probably being too sarcastic right now, but these people didn’t seem dangerous. Just annoying. Wait a minute. I have a sudden realisation that I may have been drugged. “You bastards,” I began. I only went out for one drink with my friend. The familiar male face from my dream earlier was sitting quietly and smugly in the corner away from me. “You drugged me, didn’t you?”
“Smart cock-whore” replied Beard Twat. I want to rip the thing off his face. I find that my ankles were bound together with a pair of locked handcuffs. Why they didn’t put that on one of my hands I’ll never know. “You see, we were bored and wanted someone to play with.”
“You could have just asked, like a normal person.” I’m growing curious to find out who the two girls who haven’t spoken and I don’t have a recollection of are.
“Yeah, but it’s more fun this way, wouldn’t you agree?” Beard Twat was trying my patience. He spoke with a condescending tone which tugged at whatever part of your body controls how annoyed people make you.
“Here, look at this.” Annoying Bitch approached with a mirror. She held it up to my face. Turns out they’ve written cock-whore on my forehead. One of the two anonymous girls then approach with her phone out.
“You see, I have a lot of followers on Twitter. We reckoned we could start by spreading your face around the internet.” She showed me her phone. My passed out naked body was on there, along with the words cock-whore. Someone had cum on my face. “Look at the retweets”, she recommends. I let out a whistle. 103K, that’s quite a lot.
“See Jonny Cock-Whore, you’re famous!” Beard Twat was waving something in my face. My wallet. We told people your full name, address and bank details too. This was an irritating start to my day.
“So, just to make things clear. You two are running the operation”, I motion to Beard Twat and Annoying Bitch, “and you’re famous on the internet”, I motion to Anonymous Girl #1. “So, what’s your roles in this?” I motion to the final two.
“I work in the bar you were at last night. I supplied the drugs we put in your drink.” So that’s where Familiar Face had come from. “Her, over there? She’s my wife. We make the drugs together.” Well, that was far more boring than I’d hoped for. Beard Twat moved over to me with a key in my hand and unlocked the cuffs on my ankles.
“You’re free to go.” He motioned to the door.
“You’re letting me go?” I was confused.
“Yep, off you go.”
“Wait, so you’re going to let me go and tell the police about all of this. I mean, her Twitter account must be pretty traceable.”
“You’re right, maybe we should kidnap you, keep you as a sex slave and then kill you; just for safety.” Touché. There was an awkward silence for about 10 seconds.
“I think I’m just gonna go.” I start walking. “Where are my clothes?”
“We burned them”. Oh, perfect, but I think I’ll contemplate the mess of my life after I leave. I moved towards the door and tried to open it, but it was stuck closed. “Actually, you’re not free to go.”
A black hood was put over my head, and I felt my hands roughly handcuffed behind my back.
“Oh for fuck sake.”
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