Retelling the Video

Airplane, Agust D, Joke 5

Agust D's Point of View

I woke up still tied to the chair. I decided that as long as I was trapped here, I might as well try to find a way out.

I looked around, trying to find anything that would help. I cursed my nearsightedness as everything farther than a few feet away was blurry. That was part of the reason I had been able to rap in front of people; I couldn't see their individual faces, so my stage fright didn't affect me as badly.

I shoved my feet into the ground with the frustration I felt from being tied to this stupid chair. It moved a little to the right, making a small desk on the end of the wraparound couch become clearer. I shoved my chair closer to it and saw and unfolded pocket knife on the edge of it. It was on this metal plate thing on top of the desk. The metal plate had probably been shaken to the edge by this shaky thing I was in.

I moved closer until I could kick the metal plate with my foot. The knife flipped off the plate in a graceful flip that I was momentarily mesmerized by. I shook myself out of my fascination as it landed on the floor near my chair. Now was the tricky part.

I flipped my chair over onto the ground. I shuffled upwards until my duct-taped arms came off the chair. They had only been taped to each other, not the chair.

I spotted the knife and grabbed it with my mouth, the blade pointing away from my cheek to the left. I sat up and dropped it in front of me. I grabbed it, blade up and facing towards me I hoped, with my hands after turning around and laying on my side. I started sawing at the tape with my hands as best I could; it was really hard when you couldn't see your hands and they were duct-taped together. It was also hard when the only reliable light in the room was flickering and swinging wildly so you couldn't focus very well.

I managed to cut it enough to where I thought I could pull it apart. I dropped the knife and stood up, pulling my arms apart. I felt the thrill of triumph run through me as I heard faint ripping sounds. I finally wrenched my hands apart and threw the ripped and torn duct-tape on the ground to my left.

I did a small victory dance and wandered around the moving thing I was in. It looked like a small, cramped house; it actually reminded me of my house growing up.

I angrily shook useless tears out of my eyes and opened the fridge. Which was full of cheese sticks. I knew that sink wasn't going to work, and even if it did the water would probably poisonous. This thing probably had bad pipes.

In the corner on the left of the door to the room I had escaped from, there were little shelves. The lowest one had a tv on it, which didn't work of course. There was a little round dining table underneath those shelves and a book case to the right of the doorway. A desk with a small table lamp was a few feet in front of that. There were windows on either side of the room with matching curtains, although only the curtains the window by the table were open and the other window was boarded up when I opened the curtain. I looked outside and saw scenery racing by, confirming that I was indeed on something moving.

I looked at the books and then at the doorway with the boarded up window that probably led outside. I shrugged and grabbed a book and started reading, slowly eating a white cheese stick.