Post by Tucker Pierce on Nov 22, 2009 2:06:15 GMT
Surprisingly, Tucker made his way into the secret passageway into the Shrieking Shack. He was drunk, on this particular day, which didn't help him at all. He felt around, as if he was blind, and suddenly a sharp pain slashed through his hand. Numbly he said the word, "OW," which was actually not even very loud. Sure it hurt him a lot, but he couldn't get it through his mind how much it really did hurt.
Finally, Tucker entered the small dull room, stumbling to the ground. After finally realizing what was happening he began to try to catch his balance, but failed miserably. He crawled over to the wall, leaning his back against it. He closed his eyes, feeling his hand bleeding. He looked at it his eyes drooping. It seemed as if there were five hands instead of one. He looked at his hand, utterly confused.
"Lou..." Tucker muttered to himself, as his eyes caught on a rope. He studied it with big eyes, and he stumbled to his feet as quickly as possible. He grabbed the rope with both hands, his mind racing with all he could do with that small piece of equipment. He looked up, looking at the short ceiling of the Shrieking Shack. It was extremely short, short enough that way tucker could simply climb on top of a tall chair and tie the rope onto the wooden platform above.
The platform wasn't very sturdy, the sober Tucker would've noticed that, but the drunk Tucker didn't notice this little fact at all. So, he climbed on top of a tall chair, tying the rope onto the platform. She then grabbed a shorter chair, all the while stumbling and falling, pulling it under the rope. He tide the rope around his neck, ready for take off. "Goodbye Lou..." His voice was broken, but not near as much as his heart was.
Tucker kicked the chair out from under him, beginning to fall to the floor, but the platform held for a split second, as Tucker's air way was cut off. Then everything fell in. Well, the platform at least, and other platforms that it brought down. The wood fell on top of Tucker hard, knocking the wind out of him... if he had any left. This left Tucker underneath mounds of wood, completely and irrelevantly knocked out.
[/left]Finally, Tucker entered the small dull room, stumbling to the ground. After finally realizing what was happening he began to try to catch his balance, but failed miserably. He crawled over to the wall, leaning his back against it. He closed his eyes, feeling his hand bleeding. He looked at it his eyes drooping. It seemed as if there were five hands instead of one. He looked at his hand, utterly confused.
"Lou..." Tucker muttered to himself, as his eyes caught on a rope. He studied it with big eyes, and he stumbled to his feet as quickly as possible. He grabbed the rope with both hands, his mind racing with all he could do with that small piece of equipment. He looked up, looking at the short ceiling of the Shrieking Shack. It was extremely short, short enough that way tucker could simply climb on top of a tall chair and tie the rope onto the wooden platform above.
The platform wasn't very sturdy, the sober Tucker would've noticed that, but the drunk Tucker didn't notice this little fact at all. So, he climbed on top of a tall chair, tying the rope onto the platform. She then grabbed a shorter chair, all the while stumbling and falling, pulling it under the rope. He tide the rope around his neck, ready for take off. "Goodbye Lou..." His voice was broken, but not near as much as his heart was.
Tucker kicked the chair out from under him, beginning to fall to the floor, but the platform held for a split second, as Tucker's air way was cut off. Then everything fell in. Well, the platform at least, and other platforms that it brought down. The wood fell on top of Tucker hard, knocking the wind out of him... if he had any left. This left Tucker underneath mounds of wood, completely and irrelevantly knocked out.