Characters
Harvey - the Magician
Imma - the assistant
Ashley - member of the audience and other
Paolo - member of the audience
The Journalist - a journalist
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Taken from the voice records, journals and extracted memories of the anonymous person, who is most probably the journalist.
In the back room of a prestigious night club...
"Thank you for your generous donation, my friend."
Two people are sitting across each other with a desk between them...
The one being spoken to is wearing a huge black cloak, covering everything but it's mouth...The one speaking is wearing some sort of purple cape thing...
They stood up... now they're shaking hands... and now the cloaked one is leaving the room.
The one wearing a cape is looking down at the desk at the black leather Gucci (it might be a little confusing, it's pronounced GOO-chee but spelled like guh-KEY) bag.
The one wearing a cloak is walking toward the door! I have to move and hide.
It's pretty obvious that I am spying on them.
I have no choice, I saw the one in the cloak enter the club, he or she just showed something to the guard outside and he immediately let her or him in!
This must mean that this person is very important. Naturally, an aspiring journalist such as myself would try her best to find out what's going on. So--naturally--I followed him inside, pretending to be Sheikh Hasina Wazed. That stupid guard didn't even notice...
And now here I am, all I know is that this cloaker gave this capeman something... could it be a gun? Could they be planning to assassinate someone?
But there was a more important thing... what should I do? Should I stay here and see what capeman does? Or should I follow cloaker out?... hang on... I've got a coin... let's say.... heads I stay, tails I follow cloaker...
Whoops! The coin fell! Uh-oh! Capeman has noticed! I better get outta here!
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Hi, it's me again... it must've been fate that made me drop that coin because now, I'm back into the main club and guess what! Capeman is a magician! That's why he was wearing a cape... I didn't want to look like a fish out of water so I took a seat in the front row...
Now the Magician is whispering something to his sort-of assistant... she's smiling and now going backstage...
Oh. The show's about to begin...
"Ladies and gentlemen!" announced the Magician. "It is my great pleasure to present... myself!"
A light sound of laughter and a smattering of applause.
"Haha... now seriously... I will not say my name... I will be referred to as 'The Magician'. My first trick involves..."
The Magician performed several tricks... each more dangerous than the previous one until finally...
"Now, I think it's time for a volunteer trick. Who would like to volunteer?"
A couple of people yelled, "Me! Pick me!". The Magician scanned the crowd with his eyes.
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Holy crap. He's looking right at me. Everybody is... I think it means I'm the volunteer... but..
The Magician's assistant took my hand and pulled me off of my chair (jokingly). This is odd... this is the only time she showed up in the whole show...
She helped me into a box, but while she was busying herself with the opening of the box, she whispered, ever so quietly, into my ear...
"When I hand the magician the sword, press the red button near your wrist... it takes you down under the stage. Then when you hear the signal, press the green button near your wrist and it'll take you back up... just relax and keep it to yourself..."
So it's just a fake... hmph... you can't get geniune magicians these days...
As I lay down on the purple box, I searched for the colored buttons. There they were. The red and the green. I readied my finger on the red button...
I heard:
"And now... my lovely assistant will hand me this genuine, steel sword... and I will run this right through the body of our volunteer."
The crowd gasped and "wuhooo"-ed. Then there was a mumble... a confused "huh?" from the crowd... and I pressed the red button. I could definitely feel myself going down... I relaxed and waited for the gasps and the "ooohs"...
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Taken from the eye-witness report of one of the audience members, Dr. Paolo Urquico, Ph.D.
I was watching on the third row, fifth seat from the left, when it happened.
The Magician was going to chuck the sword through the box when...
When the assistant interrupted. She said she wanted to be the one to do it, to prove that it was not fake.
So the assistant did it. She put, five, six or seven swords in. Then the magician swung the box around... then unlocked it and brought horror upon the entire room.
The mangled body of the volunteer was terribly distorted... blood was pouring out everywhere... everybody was screaming... the crowd was going wild, rushing out of the club... I just stood there, watching... petrified.
The authorities arrived and had an investigation.
Apparantly, the volunteer snuck in under a false name.
"A false name??? What, did she say she was Sheikh Hasina Wazed, the Prime Minister of Bangladesh? Pffff, get real!" scoffed the detective.
When the guard replied yes, they suspended him, took away his license and they turned to interrogate the magician and his assistant.
Then they made me go out and I never heard anything again...
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I do not know where the following was taken from
The first strike was the most painful of all. It was unexpected and it stung, but amazingly, it didn't kill her.
Then the second one came. It was just as painful... now she could feel her hot, wet and sticky blood gushing out of her punctured arm.
The third, fourth and fifth ones weren't so much painful, because she was in so much pain already that more pain was just like nothing.
But what was weird was that she wasn't dead. She was in excruciating pain... but she wasn't dead. Oh, and one more thing, she was paralyzed. But she could still see.
She saw when the box was opened.
She saw the people's expressions when they thought she was dead.
She saw the one man in the crowd staying behind while the others rushed out.
She saw the police rush in.
She saw the wink.
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"That was pretty clever of you." complimented the cloaker. "I would never have expected it from you."
"Thank you."
The cloaker and the assistant were in a room, sipping coffee.
"It was pretty lucky that you found her sneaking around, though." the cloaker pointed at the magician. "Even I didn't know she was listening in on our... top-secrets... yes... telling her the wrong button was certainly one of the most brilliant ideas I've heard since last Tuesday..."
"Gratitude."
"... and I see Dr.Paolo was able to slip you the necessary morphine..."
"Yes, and it was I who transformed them into a powdery substance." declared the magician, hoping to impress the cloaker just as the assistant did.
"Indeed... and no doubt you rubbed it on the swords so that she wouldn't feel pain?"
"Er..." the Magician glanced nervously at his assistant. "That was the original plan but... somehow it was changed into merely keeping her alive but in super duper painful pain..."
"Oh well, you're bound to screw up one thing, no? Well then... if you would do the honors..." the cloaker looked at the assistant and nodded.
The Magician had a sour look on his face, as though he was jealous of all the praise the assistant was getting.
The assistant walked over to the paralyzed, bleeding body of the journalist. She saw pleading eyes begging for mercy. Unable to recognize mercy, the assistant shut the box, covered it with a blanket-ish thing and said, full of her lusty inner-childishnessicity, the magic words:
"Abracada-my size 32C-bra."
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And the sneaking journalist disappeared from the face of the Earth forever. Never to be seen or heard from, unless it is of parents retelling the story to their children...
Because the moral of the story is...
Don't listen to other people's business unless it concerns somebody killing somebody else. And in the random case that this does happen to you, I suggest you hide in a hole somewhere in the middle of a deserted desert or else just die, really, it's nobody's loss anway...
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I just realized that these past few episodes have not been in the least bit Weird... humph... I'll try to do weirder next time... I'm just into the whole... murder mystery thing, y'know?
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Three Hours Later
"Good thing your assistant disposed of that sneak quickly."
Dr.Paolo and the Magician, who by the way works part-time as a Professor of Education, were sitting in a coffee house. The former sipping a delectable Iced soy caramel machiatto with extra caramel drizzle while the latter drank just plain black coffee (yeurrgh).
"Yes... she always gets it right, doesn't she..." he grumbled. "Anyways, imagine how angry Ash would be if she DID find out."
"Yeah... she would've been really pissed" *emphasis on the pissed.
"Yeah... if only that stupid journalist took the time to go in the room and look what was inside that Gucci bag..."
Disclaimer : I do not own Gucci, in fact, I don't even have on of their bags, but I think either my mom or my sister does... anyway. There aren't much famous stuff in this blog so... oh yeah, I don't own starbucks... and I'm glad because with the recession and all, and laying off of 1,000 jobs, can you believe that? 1,000 people losing the chance to serve coffee... tsk tsk tsk
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