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Ned climbed the steps to the front door, looking around him warily. The street seemed normal enough, though not exactly the kind of neighborhood that he expected to find the scion of the one of the local brewing dynasties inhabiting. He knew there was something odd about this assignment – he had heard some of the other people at the office whispering about it, sending him pitying glances. "No fucking way….not that weirdo…never again…" had been some of the phrases that he had overheard. The boss had been pretty close-lipped about it, just telling him that he had to explain to Mr. Mulheim that he was overdrawn on his account, and that this time, no further advances from his trust fund could be made to him. The boss had muttered something about this guy not answering correspondence, member of a family that were valued clients, a bit of an eccentric blah blah blah, but he had been very evasive when Ned had asked him questions. Being the junior member of the firm, Ned didn’t want to press the boss. He didn’t have much choice but to do what he was told. How bad could this guy be?
Ned XXXX on the door. He gulped as he looked at the hulking figure that answered the door. "Peter Mulheim? I’m Ned Abercrombie from Ernest, Peabody and …GGGGMMMMPHHHH!!" Ned XXXXd as an enormous hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat.
"Where’s my fucking money! What have you bastards done with it! I want it NOW!!!" Ned started to see stars as his head was XXXX against the wall with each word. Is this what the other people from the firm went through when they came here? he started to think, before everything went black.
Owwww. Ned wanted to rub his aching head, but he couldn’t move his hands. He stared around the room, feeling woozy. Where was he? What had happened to him? Why couldn’t he move his hands? Slowly, as the pain in his head abated, he realized that his hands were tied behind him, and that something sticky was covering his mouth. ‘MMMPHHHH!!! MMHEEELLLLPPPPP!!!"
"So the shyster lawyer has finally decided to wake up. What are those thieves doing, hiring babies now? Stop making that racket, kid. You’re making my head hurt. I guess you want some more tape on that mouth of yours." "MMMMNNNOOOO!!!!" Ned shook his head in dismay as the Peter Mulheim advanced on him, a roll of red tape in his hands. Ned shrank back in the chair where he had been placed, but it was no use. He was helpless, unable to prevent his gag being reinXXXX, or to stop the mad Mulheim heir from tying his legs and feet. Now that it was too late, Ned was remembering some rather peculiar stories that he had heard about the Mulheim family. There was Mimi Mulheim and her home for indigent canaries, and the gruesome story about Fritz Mulheim and the headless gardener…..But surely if this man was as mad as his relatives were, he would have been put away in some nice cozy home for the seriously rich and seriously disturbed. If only Ned could get his mouth free, he could explain to Mr. Mulheim that he had all the relevant documents, showing exactly how all the money from his trust had been disbursed. Not a penny was missing. He began struggling against the ropes that bound him, making pleading sounds through his tape gag.
"You’re still making too much noise, kid. I guess I’m going to have to get something else to shut you up, for good. Don’t go away."
Ned’s heart sank when he heard those ominous words. He had to get out of here, and as fast as possible. Now that he had been left alone, he would have to try to make a dash for it, even though he was tied hand and foot. If he could somehow reach the door, and get out onto the porch, someone would save him. He managed to get to his feet and started shuffling across the room. He had only managed to cover a few feet before he tripped, falling to his knees. Ned struggled to get to his feet again, but instead he crashed to the floor.


"Going somewhere? I don’t think so. Those shysters are going to have give me my money, now that I’ve got one of their baby lawyers. What do you think, kid? Will they finally admit that they’ve been fleecing me all these years? You better hope so. You can be my little legal hostage. I better make sure that you don’t get away from me."
Ned groaned in despair, as he lay hogtied on the floor. Even his shoes were tied together. How was he going to get out of this situation? He didn’t want to be a legal hostage. This sprig of the Mulheim family tree was most definitely out to lunch, and the faster Ned could get away from him, the happier he would be.
Ned could hear Peter Mulheim’s voice rising in anger. He must be on the phone – probably with the firm. He didn’t to be around when Mulheim got off the phone. If things didn’t go his way, who knew what further violence the beer heir might commit. Ned strained and struggled, sweat breaking out on his body as he tried to get free of the ropes. If only he could do undo the hogtie, he might have a chance of escape. He arched his back, his fingers searching for the knots that bound his ankles to his wrists. He managed to get the end of one piece of rope between his fingers, but it then slipped from his grip. He grunted in frustration, and tried again. His body wasn’t meant to be bent in such a peculiar manner; he could feel his muscles crying out in pain. Success! He had the rope in between his fingers, and this time he managed to hold on to it. Now all had to do was to untie the knot. Ned listened as Mulheim’s voice got even louder. It sounded as if he was frothing at the mouth. That was all the impetus that Ned needed to work even harder at getting free.


At last! Ned whimpered with relief as the rope connecting his hands and feet came undone. He lay panting on the floor, his shirt plastered to his body with sweat. Now all he had to do was to get out of here before Mulheim finished his business on the phone. Why hadn’t the police shown up? Surely someone from the office would have called for help. Ned was in no mood to lie around waiting for help. He remembered the manic gleam in Mulheim’s eyes and shuddered. Who knew what the madman would do if he didn’t get he wanted? It was up to Ned to save himself. He struggled to get to his feet, his task made more difficult by his sore muscles and the need for silence. Even though Mulheim was ranting and raving in the background, Ned didn’t want to risk attracting his attention. He made one more struggle and he was on his feet.


Ned was determined not to fall this time. Very carefully he began making his way towards the door. His previous struggles had produced some slack in the ropes binding his ankles and feet, so he was able to make tiny steps, rather than having to hop. Sweat ran down his face, stinging his eyes. Everything he was wearing was going to have to pay a visit to the dry cleaners. He was closer to the door. Closer still. Ned turned around and fumbled with the lock. Yay! He had the door unlocked. Now all he had to do get was get outside. He grasped the door handle with his sweaty palms. Damn, damn, damn! He couldn’t turn the doorknob. It kept on slipping out of his hands. Ned heard Mulheim’s swearing vociferously and then the sound of the phone being slammed down. In desperation, Ned tried one more time. He sobbed with relief as the knob turned. As he pulled the door open, he heard Mulheim’s bellow of rage as he discovered that his victim had flown the coop. Ned tumbled headfirst down the steps, landing in a heap on the pavement, in front of a pair of startled, and burly, construction workers. He was safe!

THE END

Ned played by Gurth
Photography by Caitiff

Date of Production: 07/31/2003