It turns out I didn't need to bother. A few seconds after I heard the door clang shut, I was released and my restraints retracted back into the table... I sat up, rubbing my wrists, and began to take stock of the situation.In the dim light, I examined the room. Featureless is the only way to describe it. I couldn't even find the door that Tiffany had exited through. The only thing in the room was the table I was dangling my legs from. It, like the walls, appeared to be metal but wasn't. Surprising to us was that my sister had no plans either. Seems her boyfriend at the time had to go out of town with his parents at the last minute. Being the woman of the house, my sister took it upon herself to make us dinner. She seemed to lay the condescending attitude on thicker than usual that night. "Could you boys set the table". "I've poured you boys some milk — 'cause you've had way too much soda". I noticed she was drinking wine.Half way through our spaghetti dinner, I noticed a. More

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