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the choke artist- by Steve Calamars

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Simon Miles filled the theater night after night. He was the best the audiences had ever seen. Each night Simon would walk out onto the stage.  The spot-light would hit him and follow as he approached the large metal cube in the center.  Simon would climb up on the cube and cross his arms behind his back.

 

A young girl from the audience would then come up.  She would take a pair of hand-cuffs hanging from a hook on the back of the cube.

She would bang them against the side of the cube to demonstrate their durability.

The young girl would then lock the cuffs around Simon's wrists and smile.

Simon would then lean over and kiss the girl's cheek.  She would often blush, giggle and leave the stage to cat-calls and applause.

The audience would become silent again as the noose was lowered from the rafters.

Simon would step into the noose and another young girl would step onto the stage.  She would climb up on the cube and pull the rope snug around Simon's neck.

He would lean in and kiss her on the cheek.  Again, the young girl would blush, giggle and leave the stage.

The audience would watch and hold their breath.  Simon would look out over the crowd calmly and then step off of the cube.

The noose would constrict around his neck.  He would hang there completely motionless.  The theater would be perfectly still and quiet.

His face would turn the dark reds, purples, blues and blacks of rancid berries.  His eyes would inflate and take on a nuclear white.

The audience would release a collective gasp.

Simon would then finally flex his neck.  A large, muscular trunk supporting a relatively normal-sized head.  A neck thickened from years of wrestler's bridges and heavy barbell shrugs.

The flexing of his neck stretched the rope open just enough to provide the space necessary for sufficient blood-flow and adequate breathing.  A skill it took Simon many years of practice to master.

His eyes would deflate and his face would go from black to greenish-yellow.

The audience would begin to clap.

Simon would immediately relax his neck again.  In seconds his eyes would inflate and his face would turn blue.

The audience would shoot to their feet and cheer.

The entire act would consist of 10 to 15 of these necked-theatrics.  Simon would hang and choke in excess of 30 to 45 minutes per performance.

Before finally swinging himself back onto the cube.

The audience would clap, cheer and celebrate.

Another young girl would step on stage and climb the cube one last time.

She would remove the noose from Simon's neck.

He would bow.

The young girl would then remove a key from his pocket and unlock the cuffs.

Simon would again bow and then return the cuffs to the hook on the back of the cube.

He would kiss the young girl on the cheek and take her by the hand.

Simon and the young girl would bow together.

The audience would clap and whistle.  The spot-light would shut off and the curtain would close.

Simon would help the young girl down off the cube and escort her to end of the stage.

She would often kiss him on the cheek, caress his neck and blend back out into the audience.

Simon would return to his dressing room.  He would drink champagne with his manager and ice his neck.  He would find a boxing match on the television-set and excuse himself to the restroom.  The door would lock and sometimes hours would pass.

Simon was the greatest choke artist to ever wear the noose.  For years he filled the theater and drove audiences to their feet.

Until one morning his manager found him in the bathroom of his dressing room.

Simon was hanging from an extension-cord tied to the shower-rod.  His feet were 8 inches off the floor, his hands were free and his pants were down around his ankles.

His face was black and his eyes were big as mushrooms.

Simon's neck looked massive, but his legs seemed ordinary and unimpressive.

 

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