THE GAME.

"If you don't mind, ma'am, we'll be setting up camp here."
Anna struggled against her restraints, making muffled sounds. She couldn't believe the bastard gagged her!
How dare they break into her house, tie her up like a common criminal and, she wept internally, drink her last good bottle of Rosé.
All on her day off!
Mike dragged a chair over, facing her, and sat.
"Well then, Miss Anna. You'll agree that the ball is in your court. Shall we begin?".
She continued making inaudible sounds.
He sighed and removed the gag. "What is it?"
"Tell your sidekick to take three giant steps away from my bottle of alcohol or I swear there'll be literal balls in my court."

Six hours earlier... 

  Anna Raymond had just settled down to a movie,  when the doorbell rang. Ignoring it, she took another bite of her microwaved popcorn, drooling over the gorgeousness that was Liam Hemsworth.
The doorbell rang again, and grumbling at the insensitiveness and sheer assholery of certain people, she went to the door.
"Who is it?!"
There was brief silence, before a voice came through.
"Miss Anna, good afternoon. I'm Mike and I represent the CTAN."
She panicked. What exactly did the Certified Teachers Association of Nigeria want with her?! She hadn't caused any problems lately- well, except that one time when a student's mom had threatened to sue her for flirting with her husband.
In her opinion, the husband should be sued for telling her his wife had been in a coma for twelve years!

Men are scum.

"Miss Anna?"
Snapping out of her reverie, she unlatched the door chain and opened it up. "Hi, Mr Mike. Please, come in."
What happened next would cause her both confusion and amusement for years to come. One minute, she was locking the door and the next, fading into darkness.
  When she came to, there was a dull throb in her head and five men in her house.
"Ah... Miss Anna, you're awake. Had us worried there for a second. I apologize for the head pain. I didn't properly estimate the weight you carry and so, was unable to prevent your collision with the floor."
  It was the suave asshole from earlier. Mark or something.
Wait...
"Did you just call me fat?!"
He just smiled. "My colleagues and I have been watching you for some time now. We work for the CTAN, you see."
She glared at him. "I believe you mentioned that already. What I wanna know is why the Teachers Association would deem it fit to do shit like this!"
  Mike scrunched his face in confusion, before realization dawned on him. "Oh, dear girl, no. It's my fault, really. I should have explained. We work for the Corporate Thieves Association of Nigeria."
Anna blanched. Then, she laughed. "You're kidding, right?" She asked, peering at each person.
"I'm afraid not. We never kid."
"But we kidnap, though." A voice piped up and they all turned to look at its owner.
"Wrong timing, Tony."
"Sorry, boss." The 'Tony' dude said, sheepishly.
"Sorry, boss." The 'Tony' dude said, sheepishly.
Mike sighed. "We are a top-secret government organization that specializes in retrieving...ahh...let's say, special items of interest."
"So, you're fancy armed robbers..."
"Now, that's just insulting."
  Anna had to think. It was clear these people weren't just gonna let her go. "What exactly do you want?"
Mike raised a perfectly arced brow. "Direct... I like it. We want the recording of the 2013 murder-fraud interview conducted on Stanley Nwoke a.k.a Evan Craft."
"Wait... Isn't he the one only being held under house arrest due to lack of hard, noncircumstantial evidence? Why the hell would you think I'm in possession of such a thing?!"
"We checked. Your ex-boyfriend was in charge of the collected evidence files, including the now-missing tape. We got hold of him, recently, and he claimed to have left it with you."
Anna fumed. That no-good, piece of shit!
"Trust me, he's a born liar. I'm not with anything!"
Mike was slowly losing his patience. "Well, I guess you're just gonna have to think hard. Gag her!"

Presently... 

"So, what now? Are you going to stab me? Maim me?"
A number of them rolled their eyes. "She does have quite the imagination, doesn't she?" One of them drawled.
"Believe me, ma'am. If we wanted to forcefully  get the truth from you, we have way civilized and technologically advanced methods we could use, other than resorting to something as primitive as a gun. Look at us... Do we look like common criminals to you?"
Anna eyed their designer suits with a mixture of disgust and envy. "No."
"Good." Mike said, smiling. "Ever heard of the Veritas serum?" He asked.
She shook her head.
"Well, trust me when I say that it's all we need to get information from you, but we've been asked to use it as a last resort as the pain caused by it is excruciating. Work with us, Anna. Help us help you."
Anna's head spun, but somewhere in the confusion, an idea occurred to her.
"I still maintain that I don't have whatever it is you're looking for, but I think I have a good idea as to who might."
Mike looked at his colleagues. There was no reason to trust her, but they also had no other valid leads. The decision was made.
"Ok, Anna. Let's play ball..."


TO BE CONTINUED... 

A VICKI-MARIS FICTION 

A VERY TALE.

    A long time ago, in the slightly magical kingdom of Neverhappened, or NeverHap for short, there lived a mildly inconvenience witch.
She hadn't lived there all her life, you see. In fact, no one in the kingdom knew she existed because if they did, they would laugh and laugh and laugh. Like the mean witches did at Witcheroo.
    Now, most witches thought Milly, the midly inconvenience witch, was mocked for her strangely green hair and purple eyes. Others were sure it was due to her lack of magic. Only a few knew she had magic, albeit strange, but magic nonetheless.
Milly, you see, only had the power to cause mild conveniences.
    I know, I know. That shouldn't even be considered magic. Well, the witches at Witcheroo had certainly thought so, hence her not-so-dramatic move.
Now, she lived in a little cottage, on top a hill and, for the first time in her life, she was happy.
    The people of NeverHap, on the other hand, were...for a lack of a better term, repressed.
Oh, were they so repressed.
They were ruled, you see, by a dud king and his badmouthed queen.

Wait... Were you expecting an actual evil queen, with poisoned apples, hidden towers and cursed spindles? *sigh*
Those belong to Disney, ok? It's there, in the copyright agreement.
Anyway, back to the story.

Now, the king was a chill fellow who never gave-eth an eff-eth, while his queen delighted in crushing people with nothing but her words, which was kinda a bummer for those who lived in a place where people were beheaded for talking back to royalty.
"My goodness, Miranda, that forehead of yours should be registered as property investment. All that land space, am I right?"
Or.
"My, my, Daphne. With eyes that big, we shouldn't need a seer. You could see into our future AND past, am I right? I mean, you could have led the people of Israel to the promise land, am I right?!"

Author's note: For reasons of consistency, readers are to ignore that last part.  

    The queen was a nightmare, that much, they all knew, so they kept their mouths shut, laughed at her jokes when summoned, and wished a volcano would erupt and swallow them all. And so it was.
Or was it?
     One day, when the queen was out shopping with her guards, she bumped into a weird, little woman. She had a shawl over her head and refused to make eye contact.
The queen was pissed!
How could this strange woman be so inconsiderate? Didn't she know the queen loved to be fawned over?! And if she stubbornly refused to make eye contact, how was she to know that the tiara on the queen's head were made from actual diamonds and her dress, of real dragon hide?!
In annoyance, she ripped off the shawl and, immediately,  froze in shock.
    Her eyes brimmed with tears, as she took in the green hair and PURPLE eyes of the woman who was now staring at her.
Oh, gods of hurtful but internet approved comedy. There were so many jokes she could make! She had to use this opportunity wisely. Plus, her audience were gradually increasing, as people stopped and stared.
"Purple eyes, huh? If there were a space organization called SNASA, they'd use them to scan for UFOs, am I right? You know, I feel your hair would make a great flag for an unstable country called Snigeria. All that agricultural representation,  am I right?"

Author's note: The "S"s are silent. Let's avoid those patent violations, people! 

The people gathered were confused. Nothing the queen had said made sense, but they laughed politely, as was the law.
Milly fumed. It wasn't enough that this human made fun of her... She had to force people to laugh at dry jokes?!
That, in Milly's book, was unforgivable.
The clouds darkened and wind began to howl. People made a dash for their homes but the queen couldn't move.
From fear? Maybe.
Milly's eyes blinked furiously, to avoid the dust being kicked up, and her hair remained exactly the same. "I, Milly of Witcheroo, curse you- "
The queen pleaded.  "Please, no-"
" -with the curse of mild inconvenience!"
"Wait, what? Seriously?"
"From now henceforth, none of your clothes shall fit, and your jewelry will forever get stuck on whatever clothing you put on."
"Uhmm- "
"You shall forever confuse past with present tenses, and you shall laugh only in a bass voice."
"That's a curse?"
"Your tastebuds shall be switched. Sweet will, henceforth, become salty, and finally- "
"You're joking, right?"
"- your clitoris will NEVER be found!"
"NO!!!!"

And so it was. The queen was so ashamed of her constant use of "is" for "was", so she swore and maintained a vow of silence.
Milly was never seen again, the villagers were happy and the King-
-still never gave-eth an eff-eth.


THE END.

A Vicki-Maris Fiction.