Story 2: Captive's Audience
Time: Season 4
Shawn was riding in the back seat of a car, trying to keep from falling onto the ground with tied hands and no seatbelt.
"Come on, man. You know I'm psychic! I'll read your future! It'll be fun!"
"Do you ever stop talking?"
"Yes, I do, for limited periods of time. Then I get bored. Or sometimes the spirits talk through me. Because I'm psychic, of course."
The car hit a pothole (on purpose, of course) and Shawn bounced up and hit the roof.
"Can you maybe drive on a smooth road?"
"Shut up!"
"You know, good kidnappers don't throw away their roll of tape after they tape up their hostage's hands."
"I said, shut up!"
"See! My point proven! You can't tape my mouth shut!"
The car hit another pothole. Shawn wished he had free hands to fasten his seatbelt.
"I'm psychic you know. I can spiritually find a smoother road for us."
The engine roared and the car sped up. The next pothole they hit, Shawn could swear they left the ground and he was tossed around the back seat.
"You know, that's really bad for the suspension.
"I stole this car! I don't give a damn about the suspension!"
"What about the poor guy you stole it from, huh? I'm psychic and I can see the future. I can see him crying about the bill he has to pay from you hitting all these potholes. You're a monster," Shawn said in a sarcastic tone.
"I know! You keep telling me! I get it, you're psychic! Now, be quiet or I kill you!"
Shawn smiled and shook his head. "You're no murderer. That airsoft gun may look like the real thing, but I sense it's not. And that wimpy pocket knife? That thing could hardly cut the tape you used on me." He leaned forward to get a glimpse of the front seat. On his kidnapper's lap was a phone with the GPS open. He caught a look at the address, and a better look at the gun on the passenger seat. The kidnapper turned his head and saw Shawn leaning forward, and promptly shoved him by the face back into the back seats.
"Come on man, I just wanted to see the view. The forest is very pretty this time of year."
There was only silence in reply.
"I'm sensing you're wishing you didn't steal a hatchback. You wish you had a trunk to shove me in, didn't you? I can read your thoughts because, of course, I'm psychic."
"Just be quiet!"
"It wouldn't have worked, really. I've escaped trunks before. I even did it with a bullet wound in my shoulder once," Shawn bragged. "I'll show you the scar if you want."
The kidnapper just gripped the steering wheel harder. There was no reply, still just silence.
Shawn wouldn't allow it.
"Ninety nine pineapple smoothies on the wall, ninety nine pineapple smoothies, take one down, pass it around, ninety eight pineapple smoothies on the wall!"
"Shut UP! That doesn't even fit the tune of the original song!"
"Does it have to? Come on, sing with me! Ninety eight pineapple-"
Shawn's face slammed into the seats as the car screeched to a stop, giving him a bloody nose. The kidnapper yanked Shawn out of the car, cut his hands free, then hopped back into the car and sped off.
"Well, that's that then," Shawn mumbled to himself with a smirk. He wiped the blood off his face and started his walk back in the other direction. It was a long way back to town.
"Ninety seven pineapple smoothies on the wall, ninety seven pineapple smoothies..."