Share this Update

Ouch, ooch, ouch. Damn, Rafe had really let himself get snookered. It had been Big Pete’s idea to garrote the driver of the prison van with shoes with their laces tied together, but guess whose shoes had been used? Rafe’s. It has also been Big Pete’s idea to gag the moaning guard with socks, and whose socks had been used. Rafe’s. So here he was, XXXXing along this alley in his bare feet, while Big Pete, still comfortably shod, had taken off in the opposite direction. The first thing Rafe had to do was to find some shoes, and some new clothes. He would look a bit conspicuous strolling about town in this get up. He kept on rattling gates as he XXXXed along the alley. Aha, finally he found one that was open. He snuck into the backyard, glancing around furtively. No loud dogs, no music coming from the house. Perhaps he would finally have a lucky break. It was about time that his luck changed. There was no fucking way that he was going to go to prison. Nope, not with his looks. He sure didn’t want to have a whole passel of hairy boyfriends abusing his firm, studly body. It was too bad that the judge had been in such a pissy mood. Rafe sure as hell hadn’t been expecting a prison term. Hmmm, perhaps once he got some new clothes he would pay a visit to that incompetent attorney. Yeah, he would teach that guy a lesson. But first things first. Some clothes, some shoes and some cash.
Rafe fiddled with the lock of the back door. He didn’t want to smash a window to gain entrance – why bother calling attention to himself? He was sure the news of the escape was already on the radio. He really needed to keep a low profile. Ah, thank God for crummy old locks. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Oh crap, another door. The first just let him into a dingy porch. Rafe knelt down to inspect this lock. Hey, it would be a piece of cake. It took him just a minute to get this door open. Now, all he needed was…
"Freeze, you piece of scumsucking garbage. Don’t make a move!"
Oh great, this was just what he needed.
"Hey, man, calm down. I wasn’t doing anything. I…."
"You shut your mouth, you criminal trash. Yeah, I know who you are. You’re one of those cons who beat up on that prison guard and escaped. So, you want to see the inside of my house. Fine, you’ll see lots of it, more than you had intended on seeing. Now MOVE! Get those hands of yours up in the air. And no sudden moves. It would make me really happy to ventilate you, and the cops wouldn’t say boo. "
Rafe thought that it would be prudent to obey this guy. He didn’t look too stable and seemed fully capable of carrying out his threat.
"OK, OK, I’m moving. See? Hands up in the air and all. There isn’t any need to get carried away. Let’s just act like responsible adults here. Hey, what the fuck….?"
"MMMMPHHMMYMMHEAD. MMOHHH."
Rafe regained consciousness, his head pounding. The big bastard with the big XXXX must have whacked him on the head. Whacked him really hard. Oh damn, but his head hurt. Rafe tried to raise a hand to rub his aching head and discovered that he couldn’t move. He wasn’t in a position to say much either, as he realized that his mouth was sealed with a piece of sticky tape. He was sitting on a couch, his hands bound behind him, his mouth taped and rope wrapped all around his upper body. Shit, this was NOT turning out to be a good day for him.
"Get on your knees, punk. Come on, you heard, KNEEL you piece of criminal trash!"
Oh boy, Rafe had the feeling that he had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. He slid to his knees, shooting his captor a defiant glance.
"You looking at me boy? Huh, YOU LOOKING AT ME! Who gave you permission?"
"GGGGAHHHOUCHHHHHH!"
Rafe shrieked in pain as the big fucker grabbed his hair and pulled on it. This didn’t help his headache. He surreptitiously (or so he thought) made a rude gesture with his hand.
"Don’t you get fresh with me, you little turd. Boy, are you going to be sorry that you dragged your criminal ass into this neighbourhood. Yeah, you’re going to be really sorry, once I’ve finished with you."
The big guy dragged Rafe back up onto the couch, and bound his legs and ankles. He smacked Rafe across the face before leaving the room, after warning Rafe that ‘he would regret it if he moved a muscle.’
Rafe was no dummy. He realized that this man was totally out of control. Why hadn’t he called the police once he had bopped Rafe on the head. Ah shit, the guy was probably some weirdo vigilante type. Rafe knew that he had to get out of this place, pronto. He would rather throw himself on the tender mercy of the cop’s than face some crazed vigilante. He managed to drag himself to his feet. He moaned into his gag as the movement caused his head to pound even harder. He told himself that he had to be brave, that this was all in a good cause as he tried to hop across the room.

THE END

Date of Production: 08/02/2004