Upstairs and “642 Things to Write About” or White People are terrible!

Alrighty, sis is tired so we’ll start this a little early rather than a little late!

Prompt #6: Tell a story that begins with a ransom note. 

My response: 

To whom it may concern, 

I am writing this letter to bring to your attention that I have kidnapped your daughter, like, a week ago. A full week ago and you never noticed and I was totally waiting for the big media outlets to blow this all up. I mean, your daughter is young, blue-eyed, blond and you’re rich, and all of you are white. Where did I go wrong? Was I supposed to leave the ransom note up front? Was I supposed to smear some of her blood on her pillow or sprinkle her hair on the carpet? Leave an unidentifiable weapon around? Had I not made it high-profile enough? 

Anyway, I want four million dollars for your daughter. Say your answer on some news place. Fox News usually likes to cover these sort of stories, so, like, here. 

All the Best,

The dude who kidnapped your daughter

P.S. It’s a bitch keeping your little asshole fed, so hurry up.

~~~~

Mrs. Green stopped reading the letter aloud to her husband, and said in a dry tone, “The man still hasn’t noticed that she’s not our daughter? Well, she’s not our problem.”

Mr. Green nodded, adding, “How’s Samantha taking this?”

Mrs. Green shrugged and threw the letter off to the side. Removing her robe and slippers, she slid under the covers next to Mr. Green. “How am I supposed to know? She’s your sister.”

“You’ve been talking to her all week about Beatrice being missing. Has she asked you anything?” Mr. Green turned off the lamplight.

“I told you. They offed the chauffeur who escorted her back to Florida, so now it looks as if he did it. The investigation’s pretty dry. Looks like a cold case.” Mrs. Green chuckled a little. Without further ado, she turned on her pillow to go to sleep.

“Ah, good. Oh- yes- The Pasternack couple is throwing a Valentine’s Day party this Friday. We’re invited.”

Sleepily, Mrs. Green answered, “Think it will look weird if we go?”

“Not if we hand out flyers and those sort of things, make it look as if we’re really upset.”

“Oh, please…” Mrs. Green mock-wheedled. “Help us find our niece! Please! Is that champagne?”

Mr. Green laughed, pulling the covers to his chest. He said pleasantly, “Good night.”

“Good night.”

Sister’s response: 

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Allen,

I have kidnapped your son and I will not return him until you BOTH give me 30 grands. If you ever want to see him again, BRING ME THE MONEY. 

signed,

T.

So, it all started when Mr. Allen and T. was at a dinner party. Of course, Mr. Allen brought his son along, since he always do. His son, Tommy, was a bright young fellow who always do what he’s told. He was quite handsome and well known because of his achievements. T. never had a son, or any kids, because his wife died before she could have the baby. Devastated, T. never found love again, until he met Tommy. He wanted Tommy. He didn’t know why, but he believed getting Tommy will fill his void. So. T. elaborated a plan. Take the kid in the dead of night and run for it. He placed the note on the door, and moved to the opposite side of the world from them. The note meant nothing. He just did it because he hated the Allen’s. Mr. and Mrs. Allen never saw Tommy again.

~~~~~(Very nice! Kind of sweet in a nice way!)

 

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