PHOTO POMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy
“You’d better do what they say or I’m gonna cop it! They ain’t messing around here. So far I’m being fed, but if you don’t meet their demands, I’m gonna meet my maker!” squawked Tarquin.
The fist clutching the valuable bird swept away from the camera. A masked face filled the screen.
“You wanna see the bird again, you wire ten million bucks to this account by the end of today.” He held up a board with the offshore account details. The screen went black.
“It’s a hoax,” said Edward.
“It’s my baby,” wailed Elizabeth.
“Wire the funds,” ordered Edward.
Word Count: 100
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.