The Match.

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K

King

I read it in the paper so it must be true.
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The Match


"Hello. I see that you're all awake. Don't panic, let me explain what's going on. If you're sitting in a chair with five other people, then you're part of the match. I'll explain this match; In this room, there is one criminal, who got away with a horrendous crime. Your job is to find out who is the criminal, and kill them. Bring justice to their victims families. Don't worry, you get clues - They're under your chairs. Now, here are the rules. If you kill the criminal, you win. If you kill an innocent person, you die. Simple isn't it? You've got a week. If you haven't killed anybody by then, you all die. If you win, the doors will open and you'll go back to your families. You loose, they'll stay shut forever. Good luck."

The tape stopped playing with a buzz. The six unconscious people were sitting on the wooden chairs. None of their hands were bound, but feet were tied to the chairs. The person who put them there had to take extra care with the cop and gang member, since they were stronger than the others, and probably more violent. Now, the fun would begin. A room with a serial killer, two murderesses, an abusive cop, a prostitute and a gang snitch. This was going to be good to watch. The person who put them there could see them from a camera up behind the speaker where the voice came from. The voice didn't have to do anything now, just watch and wait for these criminals to destroy eachother. Just what the world needed.

-----------------------------

when the tape buzzed off, Stu slowly opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was being called to an incident. He got into his uniform and began walking down to the station at about 10PM. Then before he knew it, somebody attacked him from behind and he woke up to the voice from the tape. His eyes quickly ran over each person, immediately panicking when he realized he was the criminal. Somebody had grassed on those dumb bitches he called his wives. Stu looked down to himself, good, he was in uniform. Hopefully that was going to hide any suspicion of him being the criminal.

"What the fuck is happening?" Stu growled, looking at everybody like they would know. His hands quickly went to grab where his gun was, but his belt was taken from him. Then he went down to untie his feet, noticing his knuckles were battered. They were fresh from last night, when he got drunk and his dumb wife got in his way. When his feet were free, he looked down to see the box. "Alright just - Everyone keep calm I'm a cop." Stu said as he grabbed the box and sat up, looking around to everybody.

"I say, we tell eachother our names and figure this out, okay?" Stu decided if he played the good cop, people might trust him more.

----------------------------

Martin opened his eyes quickly, his heart already pounding. Somebody had found the bodies. They knew it was him who killed those boys. He was no doubt the criminal and if he didn't keep his cool. Martin last remembered being at a bar, completely drunk and eyeing up his fourth victim. Then this place. When the cop bent down to untie the bonds, Martin did quickly too. There was the box beneath him and he quickly grabbed it. When he sat up, Martin gripped the box tightly, not wanting to open it yet. What if it was obvious? Like pictures from his mobile? Martin began to sweat. His heart was hitting his ribcage heavily and he felt like he was ready to cry. He cried a lot.

When the cop spoke, Martin swallowed to coat his dry throat, "I'm Martin." He said quickly, his eyes darting from person to person. The cop looked very intimidating - If he was any good at his job he'd sniff out the criminal in no time. "I'm a bartender... does anybody know why we're here?" He asked, panicking as he sweated heavily. Everybody around him were on the same boat as him, except they were innocent people and he was a sexual predator, a murder. The criminal.

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@Silyan @Whirlwind @April @-QT-​
 
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Lilah had been leaving the library, locking up at the end of the day, when she blacked out. She woke up, her feet tied to a chair, and voice overhead. She stopped at what it said. The criminal, it was her, she thought her eyes widening and hands beginning to shake. These people were going to kill her. When it stopped talking, she leaned over and struggled with the knots for a moment before freeing herself and whipping around to see a cop talking to them. She nervously pulled the box out from under her seat, afraid of what she might find, immediately put it down It front of her. "Um- I'm Lilah," she said meekly looking around. The bartender in front of her was sweating a bit and shaky. 'I guess I would be like that in a room with me if I knew what I had done' she thought, as she put her thumb to her lip, poking at her lip and playing with the dry spots.
 
Hannah's face tilted upwards, chin coming off her chest and blonde hair falling backwards. Her blue eyes fluttered open slowly, her expression one of tiredness or drunkenness. She looked side to side as the noise in the room slowly became un-warbled and she could hear a voice. Don't panic? Hannah blinked a few times, finally closing her pink lips and looking more alert by the second. The longer the recording went on, the more afraid and awake she appeared, lips pulling back to reveal bright white teeth, made all the whiter by the youthful, prom queen glow of her skin.

Her heart was beating rapidly as the buzz signaled the shutting off of the tape, breath coming heavier as she quickly looked around at who was closest to her. "I… I can't kill anybody!" she said in a panicked voice. After all, the voice said they would have to kill the criminal. And she wanted the others to believe criminal or not, she couldn't bring herself to take a life. Of course, that wasn't true, but her memories of killing her boyfriend were already getting fuzzy as her mind tried to protect her from the event. If innocence rang true in her voice, it was because she had justified the murder in her mind to the point she almost believed he'd asked for it and her friend who buried him alive coaxed her into everything.

Hannah swallowed hard, looking every inch the innocent young victim, while she began sizing up the others while they began to speak too. She turned around in her chair towards the cop, a pleading look in her gaze. "My name is Hannah Newbury. Please, my mom will be worried," she begged, wanting to get out of that room immediately. Her eyes flickered to a rather odd looking man who said he was a bartender, and then a girl with glasses who looked rather mousey. Her face went back to Martin and shook her head, long locks moving side to side. "Probably some sicko kidnapper that thinks he's funny," she pouted, blue eyes wide.
 
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" Ivan thought to himself, quickly rushing to his bounded ankles. He tugged at the rope thing for a while, compressing his abdomen to his knees as he crouched low to untie quicker. Like the other guy, he also started to sweat slightly, but used his short sleeve to wipe it all of. "It was self defense for Christ sake, oh c'mon!" he thought again, not truly believing his own lie, but trying to figure out what'd he say when he was forced to speak. But he wasn't stupid, despite his foolish looks.

Soon enough, he managed to untie himself as the cop spoke. He hated cops, they lied and messed up his entire life - making him turn against his brothers. "Hell yea!" He shouted, ignoring the room full of people until he looked up to have everyone staring at him. "Sorry, sorry. I just hate these things" he said with a smile, as though the situation wasn't hazardous.

"This has to be some kind of joke, I don't remember signing up for jury duty" he called it, still like it was a joke. But inside, he knew it wasn't a game. He was the criminal the voice was talking about. He was the one all these others were to kill, or otherwise rot in a cubed room for the rest of their lives. But despite that knowledge, he wasn't going to let these people break him, nor was he going to break on himself. He didn't want these fair people getting hurt because if him, but his life was also more important.

"I'm Ivan by the way" he introduced, stretching out his right hand to the girl next to him, but then retracting it awkwardly as he noticed she was still tied up. "Oh....." He said to himself. "You know what, let me get that for you" he said to the glasses woman with a wide smile. Ivan crouched at her feet and attacked the knots, using slight force to untie her from the chair. "There ya go" he stated, returning to his chair, but leaning on the backrest with his elbows. He didn't even want to acknowledge the box under the seat, feared what he would find is evidence of his crime.
 
The first thing that came to Stu's mind as he looked around the room, was, who could he frame? Somebody was going to die and it wasn't going to be him. If he could play the good cop for the next week he'd surely survive. Stu looked at the girls - non of them looked like criminals at all. "Hey - Hannah. It's okay, we'll get through this." He gave her a warm smile before he heard the loud voice of Ivan. It made him frown a bit. "Hey kid. This isn't a fuckin' game you know?" He narrowed his eyes at Ivan, noticing he didn't pick up his box. Maybe he could make him out to be a criminal. "Okay. This will be okay. We will open the boxes all at once." Stu kept seated, putting his hand out, motioning at everyone to calm down.

The bartender made him feel uneasy. He looked slimy and rather sweaty, which was weird. But Stu gave him daggers too. Typical of him to stereotype these men as creeps, and easy to frame. But this was his life, he was going to do whatever it took to save his own ass. Every man for himself.

"Okay? On the count of three?" Stu put his hand on the box lid, his hand a little clammy. "One.. Two.. Three..." Stu fought the temptation to keep his eyes shut. When he looked down, he almost felt a sigh of relief. Just handcuffs, God knows why they were purple, but the object seemed obviously innocent, "Well, the kidnapper obviously isn't very creative - I'm just a cop." Stu slowly lifted the painted handcuffs with a shaky hand, trying to prove his innocence.

---------------------------

Everybody just looked so damn innocent. How the hell was he meant to get out of this? Martin couldn't stop himself from sweating like a criminal. Because he was one. And these people were going to strangle him, just like he did with those boys. Martin's eyes didn't focus on a face for more than a second, he was watching them carefully just in case. Maybe if he stayed quiet as the others fought, he'd be able to slide away from this unharmed. When the cop shouted, it made Martin flinch a bit. He hoped nobody saw that.

"Okay.." He almost whispered as his eyes finally stopped moving and focused on the box in his wet hands. Whatever was inside of the box surely would give it away. He didn't even want to look. But as the cop began counting down, his heart was about to splatter out of his chest and all over everybody else. There was a delay for Martin to open his box. It took him a second before he finally ripped the lid off. When he looked down, he saw a red tie. It took him a second to internally hold back a scream. That was what he had murdered those boys with. His shaky hand went down to pick up the silky material.

"Just a tie.." He slowly gave everybody a shaky smile, "I wear ties." Martin chuckled, attempting to make himself seem innocent.​
 
Lilah looked about her, at this point it was obvious nobody suspected her. She self consciously patted her hair down, she was a little inconspicuous librarian who seemed to have lived a boring cookie cutter perfect life style. Nothing like the pink haired ball of anger she had once been. She figured her best bet was to stay the way she was. Quiet, inconspicuous and slow, instead of the loud, in your face, brilliant person she could be, and find her way out of this mess. As conflict already started sparking, she sat quietly, picking her lips as her mind jumped about, "I don't want to die. I didn't really do anything wrong. They deserved it. Maybe they'll understand... No. Stay hidden. Don't speak a word. Make up a cute, patriotic, apple pie baking, football playing family." When she heard the cop suggest they open their boxes one by one.

She picked up the box, and put it on her lap with shaky hands, (which if questioned she would call it nerves still being frazzled) hands placed on top. She gripped the flaps tightly and opened it. She did her best to keep a straight face, which she had gotten fairly good at, but some color probably still drained from her face. Inside was a large leather belt, like the one her father used to beat her sister and her with. She quickly thought up a way to cover for it though, "A belt," she said simply and quietly and simply placed it on the back of her chair with no further explanation. She figured if she didn't go crazy with lies, that might catch up with her later, she could just state things simply and there would be no questions to answer.
 
Hannah jumped when the man next to her yelled out. A hand fluttered to her chest. She didn't need yelling to stress her out more than this situation was already. Not to mention his 'joke' made her frown. She was far from a joking mood. After all, there was a sick criminal in the room. It wasn't her. One of these freaks was going to have to kill another for them to get free and she wanted no part in it.

Hannah's eyes went to the cop, and she looked as if she were trying to calm down, getting a deep breath and nodding at his reassurance. She gave a half hearted smile in return, hoping he'd protect her in case any of the others dared accuse her. Then again, maybe he was the one. Cops could be dirty right? Get away with anything?

She chewed her bottom lip, hesitantly reaching under her chair for her own box. She waited to see some of the others items first. Handcuffs, a tie, a belt… Hannah stared back down at her box before sliding it open and pulling out a little shovel. Images flashed in her mind… Eric's chest rising and falling as dirt hit his face. Her mind cleared and she realized it was a gardening tool. Holding it up in a casual way, she looked unimpressed. "Well… my dad gardens but I don't," she frowned. But inside, her heart was pounding her ribs.
 
Voices around her, speaking one after the other. They sounded frazzled, confused, and nervous. 'Ugh, that was one hell of a night I guess. What a freak.' Rose sighed, an almost inaudible sound escaping. Her mind started clicking together what the voices were saying. "Good luck."

Rose jerked up in her seat, color draining from her face as she listened. She was guilty. She was going to die. "Oh god, oh god. Oh my god." Those were the only words that could escape her pretty lips. 'I'll be damned before I die.' Blinking back some tears that were pricking at the corners of her eyes, she scanned the faces of the room. Some prom queen teenager (she remembered those days, oh memories.), a rather drab looking woman who could be anybody on the street, a cop who she couldn't help but snicker at for the irony, some anxiety riddled bartender, and a man helping the everyday woman from before. He was kinda cute.

All the while, her shiny black heels tapped away at the ground. Hopefully she didn't stand out too much, in a simple, curve hugging halter top dress. Her hair was sticking to her face in tendrils some places. Shakingly, she untied her feet and ever so gently pulled the box out from under her chair. "This should be great, ha." Rose murmured quietly, trailing her index finger along the sides. 'Look innocent. Look dainty. Look fragile and shattered.'

Out of the box, Rose looped her finger around a piece of lacy fabric and her face tinted just the slightest fade of pink as her eyes widened. Holding it up in the air for the rest to look, Rose displayed a racy looking pair of lace panties smeared with bright red lipstick stains. "Great, he's a sicko and a panty drawer raider too." Rose snickered, although you could tell there was subtle embarassment. It wouldn't be too hard for them to guess she wasn't exactly celibate now.
 
After untying the librarian, Ivan slowly made his way back to his chair. He was already nervous as the others drew petty items from their boxes. He feared HE was going to be the one to regret what was hidden in that container.

In addition, the cop was already talking to him in a aggressive tone. The guy didn't seem to have a sense of humor, nor patience. He wanted everyone to reveal what was in their personal boxes at that moment, no sense of privacy. Just because he had tainted hancuffs didn't mean........and that's when it hit him. "A corrupt cop!" Ivan thought to himself. Even though it probably wasn't true, he was sticking to that story from that point onward. He wasn't going to get killed by any of these people. He planned to be the last one standing, guilty or not.

But it would be difficult because he himself couldn't take a life - not that he wanted to. But if he killed an innocent person, he would get killed. That's what the rules stated. And because this was t a game, he couldn't play around anymore - to himself at least. He was going to continue playing the idiot boy, a novice.

So after reaching his chair, he looked at the other people's 'hidden treasures' before opening his own. "Hey, how bout you put that tie on brotha, it's gonna look good on ya" Ivan continued to joke. He then looked down upon his own box, picking it off the ground. Slowly he started to open the lid until backing up and throwing it on the ground. "oh shit!!" He yelled out, disgusted by what he saw. A dead rat flew out of the box when it hit the ground. "Are you serious?!" He questioned nobody. "That's disgusting" he commented, knowing the exact sumbolism the rat held. But he wasn't worried, his next lie would clear everything up for the others.

"Ugh man! I'm tired of these damn things" he started, walking up to the rat. He crouched down and took it by the tail. "I work for Orkin. You know......pest control?" He asked, knowing everyone knew about that organization. They were on television on the time - quick thinking from his part.

Ivan boxed up the rat again and placed the box at the corner of the room. That's when he noticed he was the only one moving from his chair, gathering most of the attention. "Anyway, what do you guys do?" He asked the 'knights of the round table' in attempt to figure all this out. Inside he plotted to start conspiracies against certain people - especially the cop. Outside, he was being an idiot and casually trying to ease the tension.
 
First off, Stu saw the tie. He had no idea why the bartender was looking so worried, the tie wasn't exactly creative On the voices part. Then a belt - which made Stu wonder what it meant. It was obviously a mans belt, that girl wouldn't ever fit in that. His eyes then wandered over to the miniature shovel. He gave Hannah another warm smile. Whoever was doing this to them put in effort to colour in his handcuffs and make a shovel. Then panties. That made Stu giggle, "So he's a kidnapper and a pervert." He snorted, putting the handcuffs back in the box. A look of disgust riddled Stu's face as the rat was thrown across the dirty floor.

"Orkin Hm? Interesting. A couple of my mates work there, you might know em'." Stu said sharply, eyeing the young man with a skeptical look. That was it then, what did all of the objects mean? He was going to find out as Ivan stood and asked.

"Police force. I think it's obvious." Stu patted his badge as he quickly stood up too, putting the box on his chair. He looked at Ivan with silted eyes, not trusting him.

------

When Ivan made a joke about the tie, Martin let out a rather weird giggle. It was forced. The idea of him putting this around his neck was symbolistically himself tying his own noose. The irony of him wearing the tie he killed with was too much.

He could sense the tension between the cop and the pest control guy. He watched their interaction before he looked at the girls. He was beginning to think too much. But he was praying that they would get suspicious of Ivan... Or even Stu. But he assumed nobody would suspect a cop. He was a good doer. Unlike Martin.

His shaky hands put down the tie back into the box and he slid it under his chair. Not wanting to see that again, he cringed at the rat on the floor. "Well... I'm a bartender... I work at Howies..." His voice got quieter and quieter. Howies was a well known gay bar and Martin was ashamed of his sexuality. It probably was a reason why he killed the men he slept with. And now everybody would have the idea he was gay. ​
 
Lilah watched the chaos about, praying a mans belt in her box wouldn't be questioned, but there were certainly more interesting things around. Handcuffs, purple ones at that. There was a connection somewhere. She could feel it. Purple meant something, but she couldn't remember it. The red tie, was a red tie. Not much to say there, it seemed fairly uninteresting, although Martin seemed almost afraid of the thing. The trowel, was the same. Although, the gardening father seemed like a stretch. And then, there was a rat. She almost jumped up and screamed, Lilah had a deathly fear of both rats and the dark, from spending time in a dark rat infested closet as a child, but instead she found herself feeling rather green.

She heard the jobs begin to get named, and after the obvious cop, and for some reason extremely nervous bartender, decided she ought to offer information of her own. She crossed her legs as the ankles, and push her glasses up slightly as they fell down her nose a bit. "I work at the public library," she said softly. Maybe the part she was playing was too normal, too average, but that's how she had been living for almost a decade. So far everyone had bought it, no questions asked, so she just prayed for the same here.
 
Hannah laid the trowel in her lap, still seeming to be confused or not caring about it, when another female voice said something about being a sicko and panty raider. Hannah frowned and turned back around in her chair to see a pretty brunette holding up a pair of panties. Were they smeared with something? Ew. Hannah snarled slightly in disgust before her eyes returned to the girl. She was wearing a halter dress and shiny heels? Tacky. Attention getting. Hannah kept staring at her, thinking the girl might have low self-esteem. The type always trying to be pretty at school but never really fitting in. Hannah would have grinned if she weren't still playing innocent. Instead she looked down at her own clothes, realizing she had no shoes on, just pink ankle socks, with skinny jeans above them, and a tight, green vneck sweater with a black cami underneath to cover any cleavage.

Hannah jumped when the boy next to her yelled out, quickly getting up out of her chair finally and taking several steps back. When she realized it was just a dead rat, she put her hand to her chest and looked annoyed but relieved. "God I thought you were having a fit or something. Don't yell when we're all on edge, 'kay?" she said, managing to not roll her eyes as she breathed and ran a hand through her hair coolly. She frowned down at the rat, and began trying to piece together everyone's items, despite what they said.

A tie… a tie… Nope, she couldn't really get that one. Panties? Nah, not sure there either. She'd already thought about Stu being a dirty cop, but then there was Ivan and the rat. Despite his words about being an exterminator, she was reminded of gangsters, and the horse head on the bed and other such acts and symbols from old movies she'd watched. Her eyes flickered over to Ivan and she began to wonder if he'd ratted out gangsters. Sounded way old fashioned, and she had no idea how that would make him a criminal though. Then again, maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was just weird.

Sighing, she suddenly remembered the mousey looking girl who now spoke up about being a librarian. Ugh it was too much. How… average. Homely. Such a girl was beneath her. Hannah raised an eyebrow at her item though… a belt. Well… she supposed Lilah could have beaten someone? She didn't seem the type though. But it was a possibility. The only one Hannah could think of besides Stu. And she needed Stu. She could tell he liked her, so she wasn't about to start pointing fingers at him. In fact she took a few steps closer to him now that she was standing, eyeing the little librarian now, her own item having tumbled to the floor when she stood up in a hurry. "I'm just a high school student," she announced as if it were obvious, giving a shrug before crossing her arms. She kept looking down a few times a minute on purpose, to seem scared.
 
Ivan had his elbows on the edge of his chair, laying on its backrest. He noticed the cop staring at him with those blood-red eyes, but didn't move budge to get phased by them. Instead, he turned to the girl with the glasses who revealed her occupation. "Bro! I knew it! Of course.......I knew she was a librarian" he laughed, still trying to be labeled as naive. But he noticed by everyone's face that his jokes weren't getting to them, they were taking this whole situation extremely serious - as they should be. But Ivan believed that his comedic relief might get them off his case.

He was using a type of technique. He would draw so much unpleasant attention to himself, that sooner or later, the others would ignore his stupidity and forget about him. Obviously he was the main suspect right now, the one the others probably deemed the criminal. Everyone had stupid objects in their box that were difficult to decipher, he had the rat. The word 'rat' itself was meaningful, the animal yet stood for something else as well. The officer's comment about knowing Orkin personnel didn't throw Ivan for a loop. Instead, it drove him to get deeper into the lie. "And yeah, maybe I do know some of your pals. D'you know Juan Lopez? Or Ortiz? Dude with the tattoos on his head? I worked with those fellas. Oh! Maybe my supervisor James Owen? Ring a bell.......officer?"

The convict was now turning the tables, putting some pressure on the cop by putting emphasis on the word 'officer'. A play on words was enough to put diversity and make 'friendships' in this crowd. He wanted the librarian to be on his side, or use her for his own gain. She was so quiet and calm, collective even. Her persona was basically unreadable, those darn glasses kind of hid the emotions in her eyes, the fear if it was there. But there was this glare, a glare of guilt or satisfaction. Ivan believed that it may be her, the one no one would suspect. But it didn't make sense.

The cop was obviously hiding something and Ivan had a gut feeling. The thing he didn't understand was why he had a gut feeling about the librarian along with everyone else - as though they were all guilty of something. Maybe the librarian was the one to put them in the room in the first place? Maybe she was the narrator, the voice? Using some kind of voice changer thingy? Who knew? Ivan surely didn't, his mind just wondered though all the possibilities.

Then the rat-boy realized the tie guy had spoken. "Wait? You work at Howies? You mean that.......that faggot bar place?" he asked, not really believed he had said anything offensive though the others may. "Dang! See, that one I couldn't have called. The librarian was easy, but wow. Haha" he laughed, adding to the uncomfortable jokes. He hadn't even acknowledged the prom queen. He knew she spoke to him, but was keeping her on the side. She was already gaining the trust of the cop, so she was also an enemy at this point who would most likely turn on him. No point in earning her friendship because it wouldn't last.

Ivan was going to get close to someone, learn their secret, then tell the others. He was a snitch after all, so he was going to use that to his advantage. Once a snitch, always a snitch.
 
As Ivan spoke, Stu narrowed his eyes. Obviously he wasn't going to frame his boy as easily as he thought. He decided to move on from it - For now. Sooner or later, somebody was going to think he was innocent along with the rest of them. And it seemed like Hannah was doing so. Good, if he has somebody on his side then it's good. Still, he couldn't let his guard down. Don't let them know you were divorced. Act like the good cop you are at work. Make them believe your wife is happy and so are you.

His eyes darted from Ivan to the librarian, "You're lucky to have such a quiet life." He looked down at her. Maybe too quiet? She just seemed so, ordinary. But then again, the voice did decide to choose the innocent. And maybe normal did equal innocent. "Alright alright lets just relax okay. Maybe we can bust ourselves outta here?" Stu looked around the room. No windows. But the door maybe. He walked over it and examined it. With a couple of knocks, he figured it was pure steel. "Maybe we can budge this?" Stu crouched down to the small slot. Nobody was going to fit through it.

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"Don't use that word - It's vile." Martin stood up, his voice shaky. But whenever anybody used the word faggot, it made him angry. It was what the school kids used to call him. Nobody even knew he was gay. But that probably gave it away. His hair stuck to his forehead as he narrowed his eyes at Ivan. He didn't like him. Then again, Martin didn't like anybody in this room because as soon as they figured out he was the criminal they needed to kill in order to survive, they'd kill him. If anybody was homophobic, they'd hate him too.

His glare didn't move from Ivan until he looked down to the girls still sitting. One was dressed in a rather slutty manner, and the other the opposite. It was like having alter-egos sitting next to eachother. When Stu moved, Martin turned around to watch him. His hands were shaking so he folded his arms tightly. Paranoia was beginning to kick in as he turned back to face everybody else. The idea of people behind him made Martin terrified. That was how he always caught his victims off guard, sneak upon them from behind. "I-I don't know... Looks pretty stiff.." Martin said in a shaky voice.​
 
Lilah felt curious, suspecting stares on her back. Did she seem too innocent? No, she quickly dismissed it. There were much more obvious suspects than her. She listening to the bickering already beginning, between idiots surely. Something about working a gay bar, and some idiot thinking it was a problem. She had also noticed the two other women in the room were not going to get along. A prom queen, and what looked like a prostitute? Please, they were going to be at each other's throats in no time. At this point her best bet was to ignore the idiotic comments made about her and her career, and keep a low profile on the neutral ground.As she watched the cop, she kept a slightly shocked look on her face. It was quite the feat as even an idiot could see nothing was budging and the slot was much too small for a person to fit through, but she carefully kept a confused and slightly wide eyed look on her face. She lightly put her object into the box beneath her and pushed it back under the chair. Pushing her glasses up a bit, she stood up and joined the cop, uselessly pushing on the walls and peering through the slot. But she quickly had straightened up and shook her head hopelessly.
 
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