The escape of the Fop
Disclaimer: Ha-ha! I bought Erik Raoul and Christine at a pawn shop! So I DO own them! Joking Oh, and I don't own Prairie Dogs either.
Raoul paced back and forth in the prison. Six months! Well, five and one fourth give or take a few hours. It wasn't that he minded being there, why the guard had been kind enough to give him a mirror where he could spend endless hours gazing at himself. Physiologists call this acute narcissism, but he called it perfect looks forever! The only real problem was his clothes were no longer in style, he was-heaven forbid, OUT OF STYLE! It was on this fateful day that Raoul had his profound idea, like the leapfrog, Raoul's mind went that extra jump, he decided to escape. It wasn't safe for him here anymore. Not with his clothes getting more out of date by the minute and an insane slipper stealer on the loose. His plan was plain and simple. It consisted of six easy steps,
Whack the guard on the head when he came to bring his meal.
Switch clothes with him.
Sneak out in the cover of darkness.
Find the slipper stealer.
Kill the slipper stealer.
Live happily ever after.
And that was as far as he planned, the slippers would be his, that's all that mattered. Of course Philippe would probably ground him from going to the Opera for about a year, and the salon was probably a big no, no. But heck, anything for the slippers! That evening the guard came to deliver the meager meal of cheese and bread. Perspiration was forming on his acne free brow, the door opened, the guard entered.
WHACK! Raoul's soft pudgy hand landed on the muscular man's head, the man blinked. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Nothing happened. Raoul had forgotten that he hadn't exercised once in his life, all his life had been spent shopping. Or going to the Opera with a girl he would never see again. He never understood why they dumped him. I mean wasn't he the most interesting subject in the world? The man grabbed his arm and, "Hey, dude? Save your energy." WHACK! Raoul sobbed. How could this be happening? It had been full proof! WHACK! WHACK! The man rolled his eyes.
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K ! The guard slapped Raoul's soft head. And he remembered no more. He awoke a week later. "I'm dead! Despair! Suicide! Homicide! Perry Mason! Unfair! MY SLIPPERS ARE GONE! Gone with the wind!" he continued this pitiful crying for about fifteen more minutes before he looked up. His room had been cleaned up a little, and sunlight streamed in threw an open window…AN OPEN WINDOW! He jumped for joy. ESCAPE! Now the jail he was being kept at was over looking the Seine River. But of course when Raoul was moved in he hadn't known that. He jumped, he fell. SPLASH! CHOKE! SPUTTER! SWIM! He climbed onto the bank gasping, but it didn't matter he was free! Now to find the Slipper Stealer.
Please review! Coming Soon The fault of the Fop.
