It was just another typical morning for Mort. Wake up, eat breakfast, shower, head for work. As he step outside to go to his car, he noticed a middle-aged man standing outside of another car in the driveway. He'd never seen the man before, so he asked, "Who are you?"
The asked, "Do you have a Someone Tube account called 'Young Pro'?"
He did have a profile by that name. How did this man know that? Mort asked again, "Who are you?"
Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind, wrapped in the arms of someone large. "I've got him, dad."
The boy was strong. Mort couldn't get free.
The man asked again, "Are you Young Pro?"
He didn't know how to answer. What would this man do if he knew he was Young Pro?
"Not gonna answer, huh?" the man asked. "It's okay. I know you're him. I just wanted to see if you'd come clean." The man opened his back seat door. "Put him on in, Jerry."
Jerry wrestled him over to the car.
"This is bullshit!" Mort shouted as he tried wriggling free. "Where's your evidence that I'm Young Pro?"
The man let out a short laugh. "You'll see. Now cooperate or Jerry's gonna get rough with you."
No. He couldn't let himself be put in that car. He fought even harder.
"I warned you. Do it, Jerry."
Mort was lifted off the ground and slammed down. That took the fight out of him. "Urgh..." he moaned as waves of pain rippled through his body. It wasn't over yet, as he was picked up and slammed down again. Jerry was now standing over him with his foot raised. Then the foot came down and he was out.
***
Mort awoke. He found himself tied up in a wooden chair in what appeared to be a basement of some sort. Sitting across from him was the man.
"Finally awake, huh?" the man asked. "It's lunchtime I took the honor of making you a sandwich. It's a BLT. The "B" stands for beatings, in case you were wondering." He stood, walked over, and reared his fist back for a punch.
"You crazy," Mort cried. "I've done nothing wrong."
The man lowered his arm. "So you're gonna play stupid to the bitter end, huh? I guess I'll have to educate you, Young Pro. Are you familiar with a Someone Tuber called Alice Dawning?" He let out a short laugh and continued, not let Mort answer. "Of course you are."
"I don't know any Alice Dawning," Mort said. "I assure you, I don't."
"Your assurance means nothing when I have proof of the contrary," the man shot back. "You see, boy, you can't lie to me. I've been tracking your online moves, collecting proof. You know Alice Dawning, whether you know her name or not."
Mort was starting to get pissed. It didn't matter that he was tied up and at this man's mercy. He would not be lied on. "I don't know Alice fucking Dawning!"
The man was eerily calm as he walked over to the chair he was sitting in and pulled a laptop computer out of a black bag next to it. "Look familiar?"
It was Mort's laptop. "What the hell?"
"You see, Alice Dawning is my daughter. She's a twelve-year old girl who does cheerleading workouts on Someone Tube. Her intent is to show other kids how to do moves they might be struggling with. She was having fun...until someone called Young Pro started saying lewd thing in her comments section. Naturally, she came to me came to me and I did some digging. I traced those comments back to this computer. Based on your earlier reaction, it's yours. Of course, I already knew that, but seeing that reaction was worth the effort."
Anger gave way to fear. "It wasn't me. I swear."
The man started rattle of random things. "Mort Galloway. Age thirty-two. Works as an account at the local bank. Single, never married. No kids. No family in town. No reason for neighborhood kids to come over." He looked at Mort and smiled. "After some digging, I found that Young Pro is also a thirty-two year old single male who works as as an account at the local bank. He also has no kids and no family in town. Hell of a coincidence, huh?"
Then the man flipped open the computer and pressed the power button. "Password? Fluffy, named after your pet cat who died when you were in six grade." He fired up the browser and went to his daughter's Someone Tube channel. "See this girl? She look familiar? That's Alice Dawning. You probably didn't see the name but you were on this channel saying all kinds of sick shit to this girl."
Mort was on the verge of tears, as the man started a video and showed him the comment section. "It wasn't me....I swear."
The man set the computer aside and walked over to a toolbox. He fiddled around, pulled out a hammer, and examined it. Then he looked back at Mort. You can either talk to me or my hammer, but you're going to come clean either way."
The tears came streaming down. "Oww..." He hadn't been hit yet, but he was antipating the pain.
"You left a comment saying you wanted to screw my daughter's brains out. That was one of the cleaner ones." The man approached, giving the hammer a few test swing at the air. "Do you think that crap is appropriate for a thirty-two year old man to say to a twelve year old girl?"
At this point, Mort had to admit it. Maybe he could avoid getting beat with a hammer if he gave up the façade now. "I...I'm sorry..."
"For what?" the man asked in a demanding tone.
"F-for the t-things I said to your daughter."
The man gripped the hammer harder. "Why did you do it?"
"I-I don't know..."
"You did it because you thought you could hide behind a keyword and say foul crap. You saw a cute girl you knew was too young and thought no one would find out who you are. That's why you said it. Admit it, you piece of dirt." He raised the hammer. "Admit it!"
"I thought she was cute and that I was hidden," he whimpered with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry...I'll never do it again..."
"You're darn right you won't," the man said. "I'll make sure of that."
He was going to hit him with the hammer. "No...I'm sorry. Please...plea..." Mort saw the hammer and felt it. Then he saw and felt nothing.
***
Mort awakened as he was being shoved out of the backseat of a car. He was in more pain than he knew could exist. He remembered being hit in the face with a hammer. Was he still alive? How?
One of the windows rolled down and the man poked his head out. "You've got twenty-four hours to leave town. It doesn't matter where you go. Just don't be here when I come back tomorrow. I'll be monitoring your internet activity and if you try anything like this again with anyone's daughter, you'll seeing me and my hammer again." He put his head back in the car and drove off.
A chill ran through Mort's body. He knew what he had to do and, most importantly, what not to do ever again.
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