You walk into your home to find a couple you don’t know sitting in your living room, eating a slice of cake. Tell us what happens next.
They’re eating one slice of cake together? Wouldn’t that be a little hard? I mean, this is one slice so it wouldn’t last very long among two people, definitely not long enough for me to get home from a long day at work and see them carefully savoring every morsel. This may be a newly wedded couple who have somehow drifted into my home (it’s always unlocked) and decided to get into the cake that was sitting in my fridge, reliving that sharing moment again. As is a tradition at weddings, the bride and groom get to eat the first piece of cake together.
Well, when I saw them on the couch, holding one plate of cake between them and looking satisfied with themselves, I most likely would be surprised at their appearance and ask who they are.
And the first words that come out the woman’s mouth are: French!
Yup, so I don’t understand her but her “husband” (it’s not implied if they are actually married) translates for me:
“We’re here to tell you something really important.”
“Oh, what could that be?”
“You seem to owe us something”
My expression turns to one of confusion:
“A lot of money”
The man pulls a gun out of his pocket – uh, oh.
“Yes. 20,000 to be exact.”
Holy – where did that come from? Did I make a bet with these people one day and then hit my head on something and black out? Cuz, I don’t remember twenty grand being on my list of to-dos.
“I think you’re making a mistake. I don’t remember owing anybody anything.”
I did. I racked my brains, clearing away all the clutter.
And then it hit me. I owe the government money for the loans I borrowed for college. I haven’t paid any of them off. These two are here to collect a debt, two representatives, two beat workers. But bringing a gun? What does he think I’m going to do, just hand over all of that money right now and forever hold my peace? Will he simply be okay with a minor payment? 50 dollars? Why do they need it all right now?
The cake was just a decoy. A conversation piece.
“You sure do…and you’ve got exactly hour to cough up the cash”.
And then I just stood there in silence, the once friendly looking lady now sporting a serious face like her counterpart. One hour? Are you kidding me?
“You may not leave the house – there are guards at the door.”
Wow, this just got a lot more intense. I’ve unknowingly entered my own game of psychological torture. They seem to be really serious but I can’t tell for sure. This might all be just a set-up. I’m on a TV show being pranked. They’re going to get me rifling through phone books and scrambling online for money all for nothing. But I could be wrong. I’m reminded of various horror movies involving these “game” scenarios, where the outcome is either life or death.
As for the rest of the story, well, it’s like those John Hancock commercials that have been going around. You’ll find out the rest online.
In Response to the Daily Prompt: Unexpected Guests