"Erty ucks!" Angela tried to yell through the gag.

One of the kidnappers tapped a foot against her leg as he watched TV, like he was absent-mindedly rocking a fussy baby. The obnoxious commercial was for some type of hair schrunchie.

She managed to work the gag down under her chin. She took a deep breath. "You're only asking for thirty bucks?"

"Hmm," the kidnapper on the phone said. The voice modulator made him sound like yoda. "If you pick her up, we can do twenty-five. Gas prices, you know?"

"My dad is haggling you down!" Angela yelled, flabbergasted. "Let me talk to him."

The other kidnapper shushed gently.

"Do you want to talk to her? No? Okay, let me text you the address."

"Twenty-five dollars. I can't believe that's all I'm worth to him." Angela said, flopping to the side on the couch, bound hands under her.

"Did someone say twenty-five dollars?!" An energetic man yelled from outside. "Police, open up!"

"Oh, thank god!" Angela yelled. "Help me!"

The kidnapper stood up calmly and opened the door, stepping to the side as a man in a short sleeve button-up and cargo pants rolled into the apartment, wearing some twisted fabric on each wrist.

"Just kidding! But it's a good thing the police aren't here because a deal this good is a certified steal!" the man stood and dusted himself off. Somewhere, a crowd cheered and clapped. "Say hello to the tactical scrunchie. It has knives, mace, pepper spray, salt spray, glass breaker, glasses repair kit. You might as well ask what it doesn't have!"

"For just three easy breezy hold the cheesy payments of eight dollars and thirty three three three three three three three three..."

The man began to stutter and spasm as he continued forcing out "three three three three."

"Damn it!" the kidnapper said.

"Cut!" came a voice from nowhere.

Two of the walls pulled away revealing a film set. A screen on a popup table showed footage of Angela tied on the couch in black and white below the words -Has this ever happened to you?-

"You told me the AI Pitchman was as good as Mays," a man yelled, folding a script and beating another over the head. "This tactical scrunchie has to sell. It has to sell hard!"

"He is! We just have some kinks to work out, diviser issue, super quick fix." The other man shielded his head from the blows as he typed on his phone.

"Excuse me!" Angela yelled. "What's going on? Am I not being kidnapped?"

"The black and white segment actors are always kidnapped, sweetie," a lady said from the side of the set. "More realism that way."

"Take two, from entry!" the director said, sitting back in his chair. "Action!"

​

/r/surinical