It's been one hell of a week, and while it pains me to do so, it'd pain me even more to not post anything. The lesser of two evils is to do a re-post (originally posted here). I hope you enjoy these leftovers, and I'll be back with some fresh, normal fare on Monday.
It had been a harrowing week, thanks to the court proceedings that drew me to testify against a feared member and leader of the local mob branch. True to the story of my life, I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and found myself scared for my life. And yet I agreed with the D.A.'s request to testify, and wound up with a 24-hour security detail to protect me from any mob low-life who might try to silence me.
I sat in the darkened living room in a safe house in an uncomfortable easy chair, looking at one of my heavily-armed security guards asleep on the couch. There was another guard by the front door, and a third by the back door leading out towards the patio. By all rights their presence should have made me feel more at ease, but I felt just the opposite. I jumped at every small noise I heard.
When the knock sounded on the front door, I just about popped out of my skin.
The guard asleep on the couch sprung up, and had his sidearm leveled at the door and his finger on the trigger before he was completely upright. The guard at the door had done the same, sliding silently off of his chair and into a crouch. The third guard at the back door hid around the corner, only the tip of his rifle visible.
There was a second round of knocks. The hollow sounds seemed almost annoyed at being forced to wait. The guard at the door motioned for me to get up. My chair creaked as I stood up, and I walked quietly to the door.
"Who is it?" I called out.
"US Marshalls, Sir," a stern voice replied. "We need to talk to you. Urgently."
"Let's see some identification," the first guard said. "Hold it up near your chest."
The first guard leaned towards the door and looked through the peep hole. Seemingly satisfied, he dropped his sidearm. "All clear," he said to the other guards in the room. "It's legit."
He opened the door, and two large men stepped inside. He held up his badge for me to see, and indeed it was legit. His partner did the same, shifting the weight of the gym bag he carried to his right hand. I acknowledged them both with a nod.
"The name is Watts," he said, and stuck out his hand. I grasped it and shook it firmly.
"What's this about?" I asked.
"Sir, our surveillance team keeping tabs on the man you testified against this week discovered plans to launch a large tactical assault against this house later tonight. We're not sure if this is threat is real, but we can't risk waiting it out to see. It's been decided that it's no longer safe for you to stay here. We're placing you in protection."
"What do you mean? Witness protection?" I stammered, my skin turning cold.
"No, not witness protection. We were given orders to place you in our Wetness Protection program."
I blinked. Did I hear him correctly?
"We've got your supplies right here," he said. Turning to his partner, he reached for the gym bag. "Simmons?"
Simmons reached down and picked up the bag, and handed it to Watts. He grabbed the zipper and pulled it open. Pulling the large flap back, I looked inside. There were at least a dozen adult-sized diapers stacked neatly side by side.
"This... this doesn't make sense. Surely you misunderstood your orders."
He laughed arrogantly. "Sir, I assure you that I heard my orders correctly, and frankly, you've got no real choice in the matter."
"But... wetness protection? That doesn't even make sense! How is that supposed to help me from getting shot up from the mob?"
"That's up to you, I suppose. Orders are orders. Now, come on. We've only got a few minutes. Hop to it."
He shoved the gym bag at me. I caught it at my chest and stumbled back a step.
"You've got to be kidding. I'm not changing into a diaper. This is ridiculous!"
Watts sighed, and turned to Simmons. They seemed to communicate through a series of shrugs and nods. Watts turned back to face me, and then grabbed me by the shoulders.
"Grab his pants!" he cried. I struggled against his strong grip, but couldn't free myself.
Simmons leaped forward and began unbuckling my belt. I kicked and thrashed my legs.
The guard who had been sleeping looked down at me, but offered no help.
"Having problems with incontinence?" he asked, as if genuinely interested.
"Get affordable wetness protection now, with new adult diapers!" Simmons said cheerily with a booming voice. "Discreet, not bulky under your clothing, super absorbent and non-constricting!"
Watts spoke up. "Available now, in a variety of sizes, at your local supermarket or pharmacy!"
I woke up, gasping, and sat up. I had fallen asleep the couch, and the TV was on still. I blinked my eyes to clear the sleep from them, and sure enough, the tail end of a commercial for incontinence products was on.
Damn overactive imagination.
Have a good weekend, everyone.