“Hold this.” I grab his hand and place the phone into his palm. “There. In front of your face.”
“Please!” the man whimpers and shakes his head. The phone slips from his grasp.
“I don’t have all day.” I place the phone in his hand again. “Hold it in front of your face.”
He continues whimpering but keeps the phone raised in front of him.
“Just like that. Nice.” I pull out my knife and press the blade to his throat. “Now, I need you to look at the camera and say: ‘I’m sorry for banging your wife, Mr. Delaney.’”
“I’m . . . I’m sorry . . .” he stutters, then starts crying. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“That’s not in the script.” I stop the recording, then hit the start button again. “Once more. Loud and clear, please.”
“I’m sorry for banging your wife, Mr. Delaney!” he screams.
