Recently, one of my assistants,
Wally Mammoth, shared an anecdote with me and I'm going to share it with you,
in case you should ever run across the same thing. As you know, Wally is a
student here at the university, who helps me with research from time to time.
When he isn't buried in papers and other schoolwork, Wally also helps his
father, who is a retired police officer and lives just outside city limits.
Last spring, Wally decided to drop
in on his father, which he does from time to time, just to see if there's
anything he can help is father with around the house.
Wally rang the doorbell but there
was no answer. He noticed his father's pickup truck parked in the driveway,
where it had been for months since the transmission went out. Wally said he had
offered to help him with it, but Wally's father could be stubborn. He insisted
on doing it on his own. Even if it meant going down to get a loan at the First
County Bank, where Wally's father had done his banking for years and had
developed a long-standing relationship.
Anyway, Wally decided to use his
key and go in and wait for his father. Wally flipped on the television and
watched some "Threes Company". Just when things were getting good in
the show, Wally could have swore he heard a noise, possibly a bell sound, coming
from the basement.
Instantly, Wally thought how silly
of him. Why didn't he think to check down in the basement right away. His
father was always tinkering on some project in the garage or in the basement.
Wally made a beeline to the basement door and went down the stairs.
Once on the basement floor, Wally
scanned his father's work area. There were no lights or anything. Just the
light coming in from the streetlights outside. Wally started to worry. Then he
checked the other side of the basement, in the little makeshift room his father
had been trying to finish for what seemed like years. Right now, it was just a
bare room with painted cement walls and floors.
Wally walked over to the room and
inside, to his shock and fright, Wally found a woman sitting on the floor,
apparently gagged, with her wrists and ankles bound by rope. The beautiful, but
scrawny woman was naked, save for a skimpy pair of black panties. She seemed
almost in a daze. Perhaps drugged.
"What the hell is going on
here?" Wally thought aloud. At a loss, Wally, just out of morbid
curiosity, followed the thick, taut rope up to the hook in the ceiling, where
it was locked down tight. Wally shook his head in disbelief.
The woman suddenly looked up, her
big brown eyes glaring frantically, as she whimpered in terror.
"What the hell?" Wally
said again, shocked.
The woman whimpered all the more,
raising her bound hands up to him.
Wally walked over to her and knelt
down. He took out his Swiss Army knife and cut the gag.
"Oh, thank you," the
woman cried out frantically. "Thank you so much!"
"No problem. What's going on
here?"
"That sick fuck!" the
woman growled. "That's what's going on here!"
"What sick fuck? What did he
look like?"
"He's old. And big. Real big.
Like you."
"That's because he's my Dad.
But why would he do this?"
"Because he's a sick fuck!
Now, are you gonna cut me loose or what?"
"Now, wait a minute. I wanna
get a few things straight. First off, who are you?"
"What does it matter who I am? Just
get me the fuck out of here!"
I have to say, at this point, I
had to agree with the woman being held captive. And I told Wally as much. I
asked him the same thing, "Why didn't you just cut her loose?"
And he told me, "Wait. Well.
I don't know. She was hot."
"So. When you happen upon a
woman who is tied up, you need to untie her. Plain and simple."
"Not always," he argued.
"Not if she's hot?" I
asked.
"No. You just can't go around
untying every woman you find. What if my Dad had a good reason to tie her
up?"
I shook my head and let him continue his story, as insane as it was.
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