“Kidnapped,” Dante stated a little cockily. “I was pretty drunk last night; would have been easy to take me.”
“Okay, what about the wonder-women here that all look alike?” Lysa asked.
Dante shrugged, “plastic surgery and steroids.”
“The milk?” she pressed.
“Drugged.”, he smirked. Come on, that last part should have been obvious.
“These and all of this?” she gestured to their clothes and surroundings.
“There’s a market and a manufacturer for everything, these days.”
“Then what does anyone gain from all of this? Treating us like babies?” she asked. That was a tougher one. Dante didn’t have an immediate answer for that. Then it came to him.