Last Option

A middle aged woman and what appears to be her daughter come in to the shop.

Hello? Can I turn in my daughter here?

What do you mean by “Turn in”?

Well, she has disobeyed me for the last time and I’m done with her.  I want to turn her in.  The police wouldn’t take here and sent me here.

Well, that depends, are you her mother, step mother, foster mother or legal guardian?   If you are, yes, you can sell her to us.

Sell?  You mean you would buy her?

Yes, this is a slave story.  We buy and sell slaves…  Oh Christ it’s going to be one of those transactions.   Why didn’t I go on break?

Well, I never.  That might work for me any way.   I just want her out of my hair and house.

Lady, it’s 2018.  The buying and selling of women as slaves is 18 years old now.  Get a grip.  I think to my self.

How much you want for her?

How much are you willing to give?

I look at the daughter.  $400, paper check or loaded debit card.  Take it or leave it.

Oh.  Really, that much?

No, I think she’s worth more, but I’m not telling you that.  That much… $400.

OK, I’ll take it.  Debit card will be fine.

I process the sale.  An evil thought hits me.

“You want the last option package?” I ask after I hand her the debit card.

What is that?

We put her in a room with a noose and a stool.  If she really can’t deal with the idea her mother sold her as a slave, she can end it all.

Oh, yes, dear I think I want that.

If she does hang, do you want a copy of the video?

The video?

Of course, the video.  If we can’t sell her we will sell her snuff video and sell her meat.  Will not makes as much off of her, but that might make us break even.

I don’t think so.  People pay to see that?  I just want her out of my hair.  No, keep the video if that happens.   Thank you.