You sit up, eager to get out of this bizarre situation and find some one who can help you - and get away from this creepy guy who's looking at you like a new toy. Suddenly, Orlando's fingers are on you, wrapping around your waist and hauling you onto the table-top. You shriek, and make a run for it. You can hear the man's calm, low laughter - He sounds like some one laughing as they watch a cat chase its tail; there's something amused and patronising in the laugh. Your dash across the pine table-top halts when five manly white fingers slam down around you. You cower and scream, covering your face. A heartier laugh sounds, at this, and giant Orlando removes his hand before flicking you hard in your crouching butt. The bruising hit sends you flying off the table's edge and down, down into a pile of unwashed laundry. Face-down in a cold, damp, downright ugly-smelling sock, you throw yourself onto your feet and take off again.. Only to see one giant boot stomp down in front of you and kick you onto your back..
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