The prompt: 'Oh what a beautiful morning!'
Napoleon Solo was dangling by his wrists, having been shackled and hung like a side of beef from the ceiling in...where ever this was? It looked like a basement, but he couldn't be sure.
He had no idea how he’d gotten here; the last thing he remembered was walking up the steps at Del Floria’s to the sidewalk where he whistled for a cab. That was it, well of course the sudden pain he felt sharp pain in the back of his head and neck as well.
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