“Flip through his scrapbook of drunken clownishness and retrieve some gems. But for that to work he needed to believe it. Play it with bravura. That’s what he’d seen Flynn do on the set of his TV show, and by god, his audience of grips and best boys and assorted Hollywood cynics were mesmerized. But he didn’t get a chance to test his acting skills, for no one came to his door. He lay still and listened for human voices or any indication of their passing. A minute went by, another. He heard a doo...r shutting nearby and moments later raised voices filtered through the adjoining wall. For now they were occupied, quarreling about something, but it was clear Thorn wasn’t going to be left alone much longer. The inquisition would be starting soon, probably another round of meds to loosen his tongue. He got to his feet, went back to the door, used the plastic card to open the latch. He drew the door open. The pigs had quieted down, preoccupied with their food, with acquainting themselves with their new surroundings, or napping after their long journey.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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