The kid sat on the floor in an odd posture, hampered as he was by the handcuff around his wrist. To his side was a bar stool, snaking down into the floor where unseen bolts held it fast. The mini-bar above it showed every sign of being hit by a tornado. All of the glassware was either gone or in pieces, and the only liquors which remained were a few pricey bottles in a locked case. From the right angle, the picture might have given the impression of a posh suburban home. However, turning only slightly would reveal the setting. An airplane, battered and torn apart but still functional. A couch was wedged peculiarly against the port side fuselage, in a way that seemed to dare gravity to undo it.
The kid himself was less of a sight, possessing dirty blond hair and a build which, from a distance, might be mistaken for showing height when in fact it merely showed gauntness. Not the kind associated with troubles, but rather with their absence. If seen in any other circumstances, it would be nearly impossible to think anything of him at all. His clothes were baggy, looking as if they belonged to someone else, and his eyes sparkled softly with a hint of confusion, carefully but incompletely concealed by a judicious mental effort. He looked around the cabin briefly, and then sat still for a while. Things were not as they had been in the immediate past and he was acquiring a sense of his new setting carefully. After giving it a studious inspection, he initiated a course of action. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and called the first number he could think of.
"Domino's Pizza, how may I help you?" The kid took a breath. Lowering the phone slightly, he puzzled about what he would say to this man. He would have to put aside his feelings at the moment, otherwise the ensuing conversation would be of great difficulty. Making use of a variety of tricks he knew and was fond of, he managed to calm his nerves to a suitable point. After taking the opportunity to clear his head, he lifted the phone to his head again and spoke. At first his voice broke, but then, quite quickly, it feel into a strong, easy rhythm and he found no difficulties. His voice was the tone of a confidence too absurd to exist, and thus an experienced person might easily conclude it to be sarcastic. However, the man to whom he now spoke did not have these preconceptions. As he listened to the kid, he quickly realized this was not a normal call.