Super Trick or Treat System

This is a trap. No: That is ridiculous. He is offering a book. How can this simple gesture be interpreted as a trap? "Think about it," smiled widened, "I think this is a copy of the library I own. I will give it to you." "Thank you."

"Happy holidays?"

"Yes. Thank you. How about you?"

"Very helpful."

His smile turned into a thin line-"You have a beard."

This is an unhealthy example of this species. It was slender, mottled, and dirty, wandering around under his nose, as if looking for a way away from its face. It seemed a little embarrassing.

"Is it for Cheryl?"

He must be embarrassed now.

"it is good…"

"It sounds like you had a great holiday."

The embarrassment was concealed by something else.

Quaid said: "I have some great photos."

"what?"

"Holiday snapshot."

Steve couldn't believe his ears. .Has Fromm tame Quaid? Holiday snapshot?

"You won't believe some of them."

Some Arabs sell dirty postcards about Quaid's behavior. What exactly are these photos? Sheryl's photo of a **** cracking and was caught reading Kant?

"I don't think you are a photographer."

"This has become a passion for me."

He smiled and said "enthusiasm". His behavior was hardly suppressed. He sparkled happily.

"You must see them."

"I-"

"Tonight. Pick up Bentham at the same time."

"Thank you."

"I have prepared a house for myself these days. It's on the corner of the Obstetrics and Gynecology Hospital on Pilgrimage Street. Sixty-fourth. After nine o'clock?"

"Yes. Thank you. Pilgrim Street." Quaid nodded.

"I don't know of any habitable houses on Pilgrim Street."

"Sixty-fourth."

Pilgrim Street bent its knees. Most houses are already rubble. Some are in the process of being demolished. Their inner walls are naturally exposed. Pink and light green wallpaper, the upper fireplace shrouded the smoke brick gap. The stairs go from nowhere, go back again. The sixty-fourth stood alone. The houses on the terraces on both sides have been demolished and rushed away by big cows, leaving a brick-dust desert affected by the impact. Some overgrown weeds try to fill these weeds. A three-legged white dog is patrolling along Side 64, and regularly leaves urinary marks as a sign of its ownership.

Although Quayd's house looked magnificent, it was more welcoming than the surrounding wasteland. They drank some bad red wine together, which was brought by Steve and smoked some grass. Quaid was much softer than Steve had seen before, and was happy to talk about trivial matters rather than fear. Laughing occasionally and even telling a dirty joke. The interior of the house is simply Spartan. There are no pictures on the walls; no decorations. Quaid's books, actually hundreds of them, piled on the floor in a specific order that Steve could not recognize. The kitchen and bathroom are original. The whole atmosphere is almost a monastery.

After a few simple hours, Steve's curiosity made him better.

"So where is the holiday?" he said, knowing he was talking, not anymore. "Oh yes. My experiment."

"experiment?"

"Tell you the truth, Steve, I'm not sure I should show them to you."

"why not?"

"I'm serious, Steve."

"And I'm not ready to deal with serious problems, is that what you are talking about?"

Steve could feel that Quaid's technology was working on him, even though it was clearly what he was doing. "I'm not saying you are not ready yet-" "What the **** is this thing?" "Picture."

"of?"

"Do you remember Cheryl." Cheryl's photo. what.

"How could I forget?"

"She won't come again this semester."

"Oh."

"She has a revelation." Quaid looked like a basilisk.

"What do you mean?"

"She is always calm, isn't she?" Quaid was talking about her, as if she was dead. "Chill, calm and collect."

"Yes, I think she is."

"Poor son. All she wants is fucking."

Steve giggled like a child in Quaid's dirty words. This is a bit shocking. It's like seeing the teacher sticking out her trousers.

"She spent some holidays here."

"Here?"

"In this house."

"Then do you like her?"

"She is an ignorant cow. She is pretentious, weak, and stupid. But she refuses to give it, she refuses to give him a **** thing."

"You mean she can't screw it?"

"Oh, no, she will take off her shorts as soon as she sees you. This is what she fears she will not give up-"

The same old song.

"But I convinced her when I had plenty of time."

Quaid pulled out a box from behind a pile of philosophy books. Inside was a stack of black and white photos that were blown up to double the size of postcards. He handed the first of the series to Steve.

"Look, I locked her, Steve." As insensibly as a news reader. "See if I can make her show her a little fear."

"What do you mean, lock her up?"

"upstairs."

Steve felt very strange. He could hear his ears singing very quietly. Poor quality wine always makes his head scream. Quaid said again: "As an experiment, I locked her upstairs." That's why I took this house. No neighbor heard. "

What does no neighbor hear?

Steve looked at the grainy image in his hand.

Quaid said: "Hidden camera, she never knew I was taking pictures of her."

One of the photos is a small and featureless room. Somewhat ordinary furniture.

"That's the room. The top of the house. Warm. Even a little stuffy. No noise."

No noise.

Quaid provided the second photo.

The same room. Now, most of the furniture has been removed. A sleeping bag was lying along a wall. a table. a chair. Bare light bulb.

"This is how I arranged for her."

"It looks like a cell."

Quaid grumbled.

Photo three. The same room. A pot of water on the table. In the corner of the room, there is a bucket, approximately covered with a towel.

"What's the use of the bucket?"

"She has to urinate."

"Yes." Quaid said: "All facilities are provided." "I have no intention of turning her into an animal."

Even in a state of drunkenness, Steve accepted Quayd's inference.

He had no intention of turning her into an animal. however.

Photo four. On the unpatterned plate on the table, a piece of meat. Bones stick out from there. "Beef." Quaid said.

"But she is a vegetarian."

"It's her. It's a bit salty, well cooked, good beef." Photo five. the same. Cheryl is in the room. The door is closed. She kicked the door, feet and fists, facing anger.

"I put her in the room at about five in the morning. She was sleeping: I lifted her above the threshold by myself.

very romantic. She didn't know what happened. "

"Did you lock her there?"

"Of course. An experiment."

"She doesn't know anything about it?"

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