2005-02-22 - 1:32 a.m.
They carried him in an old ratty pair of pajama pants, tied up at the waist and ankles with bits of rope. He thrashed and thrashed but to no avail. He strained at the duct tape covering his mouth but only produced a weak muffled groan, inaudible over the sound of pounding surf.
Ignoring the constant thrashing, the two men skipped on into the cool night, the white sand sifting between their toes. Each held one pajama pant leg and they swung their quarry between them as young lovers might swing a lunch basket on their way to to a picnic. They sang a little song as they danced up the strip of moonlit beach.
"...Taking out the laundry, nyah nyah nah na nah nah, taking out the laundry, nyah nyah nah na nah nah..."
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