Meanwhile, Daphne found herself in a sack. She had to confess, the ride down the chute had actually been fun, rather like being in a water park - made more so by the fact that the content of the toilet's cistern was accompanying her down it. She was just grateful she hadn't been taking a pee - or worse - when the trap had sprung.<br/><br/>Her clothes were most likely ruined, of course. But when she landed head first into a sack, that was when it stopped being fun. The neck of the sack was tied off with rope, around her ankles. That meant that whoever it was had to be waiting for her at the bottom of the chute. She struggled and screamed, and tried to see through the weave of the cloth, then a heavy weight landed on her. All she could make out through the cloth sack was a world war two gas mask. Then she smelt the familiar, sickly sweet smell that she had been subjected to so many times in the past. "Oh no, not ag..."<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>Daphne came around from the chloroform, with a splitting headache, to find herself tied, naked, to a wooden frame. A rubber ball was stuffed into her mouth and held in place with a leather strap that went around the back of her head. The room she was in was dimly lit by a single small window high up on one wall, and it was cold. All around her she could see packing crates with that same logo on. G Green, Plumbing. This must be their warehouse. On one of the crates, rested a number of items, some familiar, some less so. A riding crop, what looked like a heavy leather whip with a dozen or so soft leather lashes, a large bullet shaped object made of plastic about an inch in diameter and eight inches long with a switch on the flat end, and three things that looked a little like a cross between crocodile clips and nail clippers, joined together by a chain.<br/><br/>The redhead whimpered softly.<em>Velma, Scooby Doo, where are you?</em>she thought, desperately.