Oliv didn’t like Jell-O shots. She had nothing against drinking, but adding alcohol to Jell-O was a bastardization of an intrinsically innocent substance. She would have no part in that. She already disliked her captors because, well, they’d kidnapped her, but this gave her a second reason. Well, a third reason, really. Her beloved Miata had been more than grazed. Oliv wished she could ask questions now that she had calmed down, but the duct tape was holding. And the idiots just stared at her. They were waiting for something, obviously. Or someone. Oliv decided she wasn’t going to wait. Both her hands were double-jointed and she was pretty sure she could slip out of these handcuffs. She just needed to wait for the right moment.
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