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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Comedy · #2183495
Slight of hand?


Private Show

WC 255


George looked through the bars. "Hey! Untie me!" He jumped up onto the bunk.

Henry looked up from the desk. He yelled back to the cell, "You be quiet. You're the one who had your buddy tie you up with that cord. You can now just wait for the Sheriff."

George jumped down from the bunk and looked around. There didn't seem to be a camera, no way for that guy to record his actions. He yelled again, "Hey buddy! Come on! I have to use the facilities!" He was hopping up and down, hoping he was enough of an actor to make this look realistic.

Henry got up, slowly walked back to the cell. "You know, you shouldn't drink so much. Alcohol is a diuretic. It has a stimulating effect on the bladder. Drinking beer especially..."

Now George was jumping up and down closer to the bars. "Buddy, COME ON! I'm dying here!"

The keys were now in Henry's hands. He carefully and slowly looked over each one. "I know it's here. Now which one is it? Let's see..."

"I'll make a mess in here if you don't hurry, mister!"

"Ah, here we go." The key went in to the lock and as the cell opened, George, hands untied, popped out.

Before Henry could react, he was locked in the jail cell and George was gone. Henry sat on the bunk. "How in the world?" he muttered. Then he remembered something about a famous magician being in town. "Guess I got a private show."

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