Training Daze

Sensations started to flood, surrounded by a misty dream-like inability to process precisely where I was. One minute I thought I thought was at home in my bed. Then I thought I was hanging out of a spaceship. Finally, I managed to process that I was tied up and naked on a floor. My first thought was that this was going to make it exceedingly difficult to use a bicycle and that I would have to learn how to ride a unicycle. Then I remembered that I already could ride a unicycle. Then I remembered that I couldn?t, but my friend Scarlett did, and she could teach me. Then my mind returned to the being naked and tied up on a floor. This time it stayed. Such, I suppose, are the effects of having a oddly scented pushed in your face by a stranger?s hand. 

 Instinctually I started to try and get out of my bonds. I once had a friend who did escape artistry as a hobby, so if I had been tied with trick handcuffs or slipknots I would have known how to get out quite handily (don?t hurt yourself laughing at my pun). As is, I seemed to be tied with hard cords, and I wasn?t having any luck moving. I also found I had no luck with talking or making any sort of sound. 

 The pain of rubbing my wrists and ankles against the immovable ropes finally drove the remnants of the **** induced haze out of my head. I on the floor of a stone, windowless room with a heavy door which was slightly open. There was a draught coming through it that I could feel over my whole body. And to my horror, I saw that I wasn?t alone. There was a woman standing over me. She was a redhead, attractive in a sort of physical way, and dressed in semiformal business attire. 

 She kneeled to look me in the eye. ?Twenty two minutes and fourteen seconds until full consciousness. Pool goes to Arthur. Hello, sleepyhead.?