What do you know about rolling down in the deep? Well, when you brain goes numb you can damn well call it mental freeze. Hi. My name is Fetus. That doesn't mean I'm an undeveloped child. I'm just named Fetus. I'm a 56 year old man, single of course. Nobody wanted the boy named Fetus, after all. However, this doesn't change the fact that I'm about to be boiled into a soup. There it is. The big boiling pot of vegetable broth. I mean, come on, at least use chicken broth. It's one of those weird, old-fashioned pots with a rim spilling over the top and three legs poking out the bottom. You know, the stereotypical witch kind. The man who took me captive is stirring the pot at an insane speed, shouting random gibberish as if he was a sports announcer on crack having a stroke. Anyways. Here I am, arms and legs bound to a chair. Kind of annoying if you ask me. I mean, at least there isn't any duct tape over my mouth. That way I can annoy my captor. That reminds me-
"Hey, dumbass!" I shout. The man, Cletus, cranes his neck and makes a chimp-like face.
"OOGA BOOGA WOOGA!!!" He exclaims, flailing his arms around like noodles. That guy seriously needs to take some meds.
"Yeah, yeah," I say. "Ooga booga. I get it. Would you mind untying me? It's getting really uncomfortable here, and my nose itches." Cletus shrugs, frowning slightly, then returns to his maniacal sturring of the soup, which makes me question his cooking skill because it doesn't need to be stirred since he didn't put anything in it. Cletus whoops with excitement and yeets the spoon into some narrow corner of his burrow, proceeding to look me directly in my eyes.
"Oh hell no," I refuse. "You ain't dragging me in there." Cletus dashes over, yanking on the ropes binding my limbs. They come loose, and faster than light he yanks me away and drags me to the pot. My eyes widen.
"NO. NONONONONONONO!" Cletus smiles and pats my head. How do I get out of this one?
