The holidays are always a wonderful time for kidnapping! I took cues from a friend and got a group to stake out one of the old country roads around here. We had our great binoculars and were lying in wait for that one perfect meal…that one chubby girl who was going to unexpectedly have car trouble (courtesy of us). I was on the spying team; and, I knew it was her as soon as I saw the car. It was new; she had to be Daddy’s little girl; yep, not a scratch on the paint. And, there she was, listening to her booming music; our good fortune was already evident…she wasn’t on her cell phone. I radioed up the road; and, they threw down spikes.
I was eager to see if it worked; so, I ran up the street and the girl was in shock. Certainly, she’d never had a flat tire; they didn’t exist in her world. After being paralyzed, she got out of the car and looked around it until she found the source of the problem. She could see me as I neared her; and, she looked relieved. Of course, my sole reason must be to help her! I had to laugh at her… She started asking me for help; and, I told her that I actually was stranded, too. She was happy to have someone to bitch to…but unclear why I wasn’t sent there to be her savior.
I told her to hand me her phone, that I’d call someone. She happily obliged, glad that I was finally taking responsibility for her situation. Then, my three friends emerged from the trees and brush; it was quite easy to subdue her. I turned off the GPS on her phone; I decided to dispose of it later…I wanted to look through her pictures as she cooked and maybe ask questions.
At home, we were able to set her up in the oven (it was too hot to cook outdoors); and, I began talking with her about the pictures on her phone, her major in college, how she hated her sister (because the sister “got everything she wanted!”). It was humorous; and, I felt cheated when one of my friends came up to her and sliced off her arm. I asked what he was doing, to which he replied that he was making Bloody Mary drinks. He winked and said, “The legit kind.” I looked back at the girl; she was already dead from smoke inhalation; I looked at her driver’s license; her name was Martha, not Mary. I shrugged; well, the name was close enough; and, I wondered how she would taste with vodka.
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