“…and remember kids - it’s a full moon tonight. The crazies will be out in full force.”
“Umm actually Ted, I believe the correct term is “reality impaired”.
“Hey you say “tomato” I say “scary knife-wielding maniac”. Either way, we’ll be right back with more after these messages from our sponsors.”
The faint sound of the radio buzzed around Tim’s head as he woke, groggily becoming aware of his surroundings. There was a faint light source that seemed to be coming from the floor on his right side, like it was creeping in under a door. It was enough to give him a rough idea of the size of the room. Judging by the damp odor and the cold, hard floor under his bare feet, he thought it might be a basement or a cellar of some kind. It was too dark to make a definite ruling.
The last thing Tim remembered before waking was drinking at Murphy’s. It had been piss poor day - fucked up contracts, mad customers, screaming boss. It was the kind of day that just screamed “I need a drink”. Of course, he didn’t necessarily need a reason to drink. He was what is referred to as a “functioning alcoholic” - a Bloody Mary for breakfast, beer for lunch and maybe a whiskey or five for dinner. He had been tying a pretty good one on when he started to chat up a few of the ladies. Although the heavy drinking was taking its toll on his body inside and out, he still retained enough of his boyish good looks and former college athlete body to be effective. Unfortunately he had a tendency to develop a serious case of beer goggles, often resulting in nights best left forgotten.
At the moment, he couldn’t remember who he talked to or even how well he did. He didn’t remember leaving the bar. He sure as hell didn’t recall how he came to be in that room. He did know one thing for sure – he was naked and strapped to a chair.
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