Behind her, the noise escalated, as she could hear the mixing bowl go on high speed.
She could hear Larry mumbling to himself excitedly. She rolled her eyes, and waited for whatever he was concocting for her. She would ask what he was doing but the tape on her mouth hadn’t worn out yet.
Finally, she heard the mixing bowl stop and could hear his tiny footsteps come closer to the table she was sitting on, with her shoulders clamped to the wall behind her and her ankles fastened at the end of the rickety wooden table.
“This glue should work better than that cheap Elmer’s stuff.” Larry grinned stupidly, like the child he really was.
He grabbed his paintbrush and began brushing the goop onto her legs until there was a thin layer. Then he grabbed the finished puzzle he had by her side, and started transferring the pieces onto her leg.
That’s when he began singing the stupid song she had been hearing for the past week, “You’re a puzzle, a riddle. But I’m gonna solve ya, even if it takes me all niiiiiiiiight.”