Gutmann, Furda, and the Philadelphia Brotherhood of Thieves, Part 5: The Sleight of Hand

It's everyone's favorite time of week again! UTB coming at you with the newest chapter of our weekly Serial Feature! Click the links to read Chapters ONE, TWO, THREE and FOUR and keep up with this perilously exciting tale.

Finally Dylan looked at me. Wow, his eyes are such a warm color of brown, I thought to myself giddily. 

I slowly started to swing the antique brass pocket watch in front of his face and after a few seconds, Dylan's eyelids drooped sleepily. I didn't want to lose focus, but I turned around to look at Dean Fergalicious Furda and President Gutmann who were anxiously standing behind me. Furda shot me a thumb's up and Gutmann gave me a wan smile. I turned back around to the subject of my hypnosis, but couldn't keep from grinning at my brethren-in-arms. My homies.

I kept swinging the watch until I was sure that Dylan was firmly in a trance. Okay, what now? Maybe I shouldn't have skipped all those Hypnosis classes to watch Netflix documentaries, huh. I wracked my brains to try and remember the next step, when suddenly it came to me.

"Dylan Johnson -- open your eyes!" Dylan quickly snapped to attention, his gaze locked in mine. "From this moment forward, you are no longer a pirate of the Scurvy Sailor Crew of the Schuylkill River. You must renounce your Buccaneer's Oath and fight with us. You will be the newest member of the Philadelphia Brotherhood of Thieves from this moment forward. University City needs our help. Parmigiana!" 

And with that, Dylan was asleep again.

"He'll sleep for about another minute and hopefully the hypnosis will have taken," I announced to my loyal comrades.

"Parmigiana? Seriously?" asked Gutmann.

"Every hypnotist has their own word," I rebutted. "It's called 'the principle commanding participle of the unconscious.'" I was feeling a bit defensive that she'd challenge me like that about hypnosis. After all, I'd taken half a semester of freshman seminar on its origins and intricacies! 

Suddenly, there was a stir from the chair behind us. "He's waking up!" I cried.

The three of us gathered around Dylan, who was still tied up in the chair dressed like a pirate.

"This is all a bit ridiculous," I muttered. Furda shot me a contemptuous look from beneath his silk top hat.

As Dylan's eyes focused on the three of us standing before him, I couldn't help but wonder if he'd recognize me. Hopefully the pirates haven't totally brainwashed him.  

"Ahoy, mateys," Dylan said. "Kindly unhand me from these scurvy ropes that are vexing meself!"

I groaned. It didn't work. He's still a pirate. I'd never felt so defeated.

"Just kidding!" cried a cheerful Dylan! "I'm definitely interested in helping you guys out. I've always wanted to be a part of a brotherhood at Penn, I just kind of thought that it would be like a fraternity or something instead. But this works too!" 

Gutmann, Furda and I stood there with our mouths agape.

"What an elaborate ruse he's pulled on us!" announced an exasperated, yet Fantastic Furda.

Gutmann turned to me. "Can we trust him?" She asked solemnly.

"Yes. We can trust him." At least I think so. . . 

"Hey, don't you live on my hall?" Dylan asked me. I blushed and quickly nodded. My heart fluttered at the fact that he remembered me, although we'd spoken nearly every single day since the beginning of college.

"Hi," he said. Omg did he just smile at me?

"Okay then," Dylan continued. "Let's get to work." He held up his wrists that were still bound with ropes. "Can someone please untie me?"

TO BE CONTINUED. . .