First aid hoax


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.

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Feeding time

Feeding time

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!

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Sensory deprivation afternoon

He took another sip of coffee, and turned the page, going through the headlines.
Water on Mars confirmed. That was interesting. He dove into the article, only to find out that he had a real hard time concentrating.

He had taped the cassette recorder to the back of the inflatable, and he doubted if she even knew. Maybe she would try to turn it off, but have no idea where to start

He finished his coffee, got up and went over to the refrigerator. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and looked out of the kitchen window. It was still raining.

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Treadmill test

"Miss Penn, in your report you stated that you had concluded your investigation, and were on  your way out. Can you tell us what happened then, please?"
"I passed this door, and I thought I heard someone sobbing, and panting at the same time,     accompanied by some mechanical noise. I entered the room and there was a  woman on a    treadmill, running. She didn't notice me, as she was indeed sobbing, her eyes full of tears. At  first, I didn't understand why. She wasn't running at an incredible pace, she was muscular and  stocky: it all looked like part of a normal work out. I wanted to turn around and leave, but then  she saw me and she... SHRIEKED at me, telling me to turn it off. I looked again, and then I   freaked out! I saw that she couldn't stop and couldn't get off. She was impaled on a metal  upright that rose from the middle of the treadmill right... well, INTO her! I understood then  why she looked so mortified. One misstep and she could injure herself horribly. Or worse! I  rushed forward, only to recognize at the latest moment that I would have to be very careful in  my actions. I couldn't just pull the plug: an all too sudden halt would have resulted in a  disaster.

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