He took a deep breath and thrust his hand into the bag. His fingers made contact with something slimy, yet gritty in its’ consistency. He twisted his face as he lifted his hand out of the bag and glanced at Sheila.
“What are you trying to pull?” he asks. “When I told you I wanted this mixture to be smooth to the touch, I didn’t expect you would give me something like this!”
“I’m sorry Ray,” Sheila says. “I’ve been working on this day and night and I told you this would take time…”
“Time is a luxury we can’t afford!” Ray yells. “Keep this up and you’ll never see your husband and daughter again.”
“No,” Sheila whimpers and takes a step closer to Ray, attempting to clasp her hands together. Her hands are still restricted by the metal handcuffs clamped tightly to her wrists.
“Please…I beg of you.”