I cried out a little and thought he'd slap or gag me, but it didn't seem to matter."You're finished," he said, patting my ass. He lit a joint. "Why ar... you crying sissy?" My wife," I said. Whatever he'd injected into me sure was working fast. I already felt groggy. "She was waiting…she'll wonder what happened to me. I know I'll never see her again…"The black man chuckled softly and exhaled the sweet pot smoke. He held something in front of my face: a sheet of paper with a lipstick print."Well. Clint tried to ring to me several times, but I did not answer. Then hesent me a text message stating that I was on TV. I turned on the TVexpecting to see the commercial. It wasn't. It was an interview with me orthe boy that looked like me. I was so confused that I could not see thedifference. The boy was talking how fun doing the commercial was. He saidit was hard suddenly that everyone knew me and I was suddenly famous.However, he had his mum and his best friend Clint to keep him from gettinga. More

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