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April 3, 2009

Friday

Singing for your life.

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Comments

Rodolfo was in a tight spot. His kidnappers had believed they were holding Massimino Cortez, the world-renowned tenor.

Instead, they had chosen the wrong night to wait backstage at the opera house and instead grabbed Rodolfo, Cortez's understudy.

The ransom note made quite clear what would happen to their hostage if no payment was made. Obviously there would be no need to pay if Cortez was safe, and understudies were expendable. Rodolfo began to panic. From his trembling lips emerged "In Mohrenland gefangen war ein Mädel," from Mozart's "The Abduction from the Seraglio."

Moved, Rodolfo's Moorish captors set him free.

Posted by: Chamomiles Davis at April 3, 2009 10:20 AM · Permalink

Francis slowly opened his eyes. He found that he was tied to his chair. As he struggled against the ropes, he hollered for help.

From the corner of the room, the sound of cackling laughter began. As his eyes became used to the darkness, Francis could see the shadowy figure in the corner. It was James, the hitchhiker. He pointed a gun at Francis and said, “Sing, Francis. Sing for your life!”

Francis nervously began a rendition of Cher’s “Believe.” The song brought back painful memories to James. With tears in his eyes, he placed the gun against his temple.

Posted by: Freakazoid! at April 3, 2009 12:33 PM · Permalink

Francis slowly opened his eyes. He found that he was tied to his chair. As he struggled against the ropes, he hollered for help.

From the corner of the room, the sound of cackling laughter began. As his eyes became used to the darkness, Francis could see the shadowy figure in the corner. It was James, the hitchhiker. He pointed a gun at Francis and said, “Sing, Francis. Sing for your life!”

Francis nervously began a rendition of Cher’s “Believe.” The song brought back painful memories to James. With tears in his eyes, he placed the gun against his temple.

Posted by: Freakazoid! at April 3, 2009 12:34 PM · Permalink

How many nights had she done this? And, how much longer could it go on? She didn't know the answers to either, and she wished that she was not given the time to think about it. That was the worst part. Every night she stood on the platform over the open pit of crocodiles, and sang. Her customers sat with with her life in their hands. One wrong note, on off key phrase, or even if she sung a song that they didn't like and dhow she would go. Sometimes she prayed for it to end, but tonight she'd sing.

Posted by: jeffrey hite at April 3, 2009 3:43 PM · Permalink

Frankie joined The Outfit when he was just twenty years old. Whenever someone needed muscle, he was the first one called.

Over the years, those he worked for managed to somehow get themselves killed. Frankie moved up. Life was good.

Late one night, the Feds snatched him from his bed. They told him that they would take everything that he and his family owned and then put him so far away they'd have to pump in sunshine. But if he helped them, he and his family could go into witness protection.

He didn't need convincing.

Frankie sang like a bird.

Posted by: Owl Creek Observer at April 5, 2009 5:16 PM · Permalink