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  • Paul Davidson

You Think I’m Asleep In My Bed, But I’m Not

There’s a lump…check! There’s movement…check! There’s breathing sounds…check!

Yet if you were to move close to my bed, rip the covers back much in the way that a amateur-magician rips the tablecloth off a table leaving all the objects in place, you would find that I am not even there asleep under the covers but that I have, yet again, duped you into thinking that I’m asleep in my bed.

But I am not.

People always talk so highly about heart-doctors and lawyers and people who volunteer for the Peace Corps, but when do they ever take the time to speak highly of people like me? People who can, in less than 15 minutes flat, design their bed so that any strangers entering said bedroom will think that there’s someone in R.E.M. sleep mode under the covers? It’s an area of study just like History, Math and Science. It’s a skill, people.

And I have it.

It started when I was a child — afraid of the sounds that I heard in the night. For what if one of those sounds was a robber? What if one of those sounds was a crack-whore looking for some blow? If they bypassed the rest of the first floor and second floor of my house, there was only one place left to explore.

My room.

And if they came into my room and realized there was no money in the desk drawers or in my jeans pockets they would go to the next possible location — the mattress. Historically, the place where people store all their cash money/bonds/gold/silver and jewlery, this would be the next logical place for crack-whore or robber or down-on-their-luck bum to look. But what if I was sleeping on that mattress? Well, the outcome was nothing less of horrific. My death would be imminent. That was why I started, at a young age, to try and learn the magic that is called Body In A Bed Camoflauge Misdirection Theory.

Sure it’s wordy. But it works.

Now, with fifteen minutes and two pillows, some string, a looping tape recorder, some socks, flour, saran wrap, the head of a CPR dummy, a pulley system, two mini-speakers, a black light, salt shakers, a small Italian Greyhound, mayonnaise, a small saw, at least a ten by ten space under the floorboards and a flashlight — the magic can happen.

The step by step process, which I could easily provide you with here, is in actuality a secret. For if I were to outline the process and how a super-human as myself could integrate all my props and make them work in a 15 minute period, you would be stunned. Sure, you can say that you saw how Ferris Bueller rigged up his room in his wonderful little 80’s movie, but what happened in the end? Do you remember?

His sister found out that it wasn’t him.

With my thirty-five step, fifteen minute process, I can make any unwanted guests immediately think that there is a living, breathing human being underneath the covers and slathered with mayonnaise — and they will go running for fear of being touched, arrested or slathered. It is a system that has never failed in my thirteen years of practice, and in the end all I can tell you is that it works.

Two men enter (the bedroom), one man (robber/crack-whore/bum) leaves. It is the reality of Beyond Thunderdome and my Body In A Bed Camoflauge Misdirection Theory of which I am the undisputed King.

Read it and weep.

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