While the applause went on, he used his phones flashlight to see what was next on the program. It simply said: Casanova, hypnotist. Great, another half hour of people walking like a chicken and crying on demand to look forward to. Perkins cringed and wished he had stayed home to watch the game.
And of course, it would all be a hoax, like always. All the 'volunteers' would be paid actors, for sure. The whole theater was filled with about six hundred people, from about twenty different companies. How was anyone to know which participant was a worker from what company? Balloney, all of it.
The hypnotist turned out to be a tall, slender man. He was dressed in a tuxedo and wore a turban. He seemed oriental, and he spoke with a slight accent. And as expected, he invited various members of the audience on stage, all male, only to turn them into a laughing stock in the following minutes. He made them do cartwheels and handstands, proving that these were indeed trained athletes, Perkins thought. It was so obvious. After a few minutes, he had already become bored by the dog and pony show, and he started to check his phone.
He didn't even notice that the men had left the stage and that the artist had invited the first woman for the evening to join him.
This changed in a flash as, when asked to do so, she stated her name for the audience.
"Penelope Ann Prentiss."
He couldn't believe it. It was indeed Miss Prentiss, their head of sales, but he had to look twice before he recognized her. At the office, she would always come in wearing these elegant two-piece suits, consisting of a jacket and pants. But here she was, on stage, in the lights, dressed in a little black dress! For the first time in the seven years that he had known her, working under her, he could see her legs.
It was 6 AM. After putting on his phony uniform, Bob Mallory started to fill his bag. The first aid kit went in (that was real), and various roles of bandages (which were real, too), the two leather slings (not real, made by Bob himself), and the strap with the two extra buckles (also homemade). He tossed in a box of band-aid, some bottles and cans, and zipped the bag shut. Ready for another fake first aid demonstration.
Rick got off the bus and reluctantly made his way to the main entrance. Another long, boring day at school. His homework for the next four days was done, finished. He had completed reading his history book in full for this year two months ago. And in class, the lessons went along so slow. He was bored out of his wits, most of the time. But at least, today, things would be a little different. Some guy was going to do a presentation. About first aid. Not the most inspiring of subjects, but anyway.
On the train, traveling first class, he took out the print of the screenshot he had made during their Skype contact. Oh man, this was going to be so good! Although she had been friendly enough, smiling a lot, there was also a certain haughtiness in her face, even a little disdain, he thought. This face, and the fact that she had agreed to assist... His hand went to his crotch, gently rubbing. He had the wagon all to himself, after all.
Hello Miss Everson! It's time for your bottle again!
Carlton, I'm really tired of this game; get me out of this thing so that I can eat properly, using my hands and a plate, PLEASE?!
Ok, just turn around.
Really? Oh, what a relief, I actually started to think you had lost your mind. Now we can... HEY!
There! I did think that crotch strap was a little loose!