I barely looked at the next picture; I didn’t really need to. It was of the recent Anthony posing again in his beloved purple Speedo, this time on a stage, this time slathered with bronzing goop.
“So you work and work and work, until you are ready to meet with that old torturer again, the one who nearly did you in.”
A picture of Anthony in a mixed martial arts uniform proudly holding a trophy popped up on the sheet and I tested my chair one more time. I felt what I thought was a point of weakness at the base where the seat of the chair met the pole which rose up from the bottom.
“And then, you use that friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend to call upon this bully for his services, and you set him up. You set it up so he is the one who attacks you, so if the police come, he takes the blame. You set it up so if things go right, you can sneak away with him to let him know about what he did and how it didn’t stop you from not just becoming who you are, but from becoming better than him at what he does, and proving it.”
I pressed all of my 203 pounds backwards against the back of the chair and felt the plastic just below my butt begin to flex. I heard it start to splinter just under the sounds of Anthony’s self-indulgent monologue. I felt that plastic start to give out and felt the metal of the pole which kept it upright start to rip through the cushy material which was inside the seat of the chair. I could tell with just a little more pressure, that I was going to rip the entire chair apart with my weight and was going to be able to make at least a bit of a move on the floor, even though my ankles and wrists were locked together. I spied a dumbbell in the corner of the room. Maybe I could roll over there and use it to somehow break the zip ties off either my ankles or wrists?
I had to try something. I didn’t see any way the situation was going to end without Anthony turning me into some kind of human shish kebab unless I gave something a try.
Anthony walked up behind me slowly. I could sense him because of the approaching scent of coconut which must have come from his bronzer or whatever oil he spread all over himself.