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George wasn't sure how he went from sitting in his apartment, celebrating his many subscribers and waiting for the dough they'd cough up, to waking up on the floor of an empty warehouse, hog-tied and gagged.
"Mister Wickham!" a woman said, standing above him. "If you would do me the courtesy of lookin' me in the eye?"
George struggled to look up, only managing to catch that the woman had a long, flowery dress on.
"Oh, that's right, I guess it would be difficult to turn, all tied up like that. Emily, if you would?"
A hand grabbed his collar and yanked him up, nails drawing blood. George winced and looked up to see a middle-aged red-haired woman smiling down at him with a creepy glint in her eye. A crowd of other women, all middle-aged, stood behind her, faces set in stone.
"Thank you, darlin'," the crazy woman said, beaming at his captor. "Now, Mister Wickham, do you know who I am?"
George tried to say, "Someone fucking crazy?" but it came out "Smmuhn fhhknn cra-ee?"
"Oh, dear, that doesn't even sound a bit like my name." The redhead kept her crazy smile and shrugged. "I'm Lydia's mother, Mister Wickham, and you've done bad by her."
They could not be serious. Lizzie's insane, over-the-top, overbearing mother had abducted him?!
"See, I've noticed my husband and my girls have been miserable the past few days," Mrs. Bennet continued, still with that smile. "And Emily here noticed that her daughter's been worried and askin' for some site to be taken down."
"So I checked her computer," the woman strangling him with his own collar said, "and what do I find? A website that's going to sell a sex tape of our dear Lydia. And it called her a YouTube star, so of course I checked all the videos and then called the family."
"My girls have had such an exciting year," Mrs. Bennet said, nodding. "But right now, all their lives are in ruins- my Jane's lost her job, my Lizzie's behind on her thesis, and my Lydia's heartbroken and completely miserable- and it's all because of you. So you're going to make it all better."
George finally managed to spit out his gag. "Or what, lady?" he sneered, sick of all of this bull. "You can't do anything. You can't prove it wasn't consensual."
"Mister Wickham, what makes you think I'll take this to the law?" Mrs. Bennet asked, her eyebrows rising. "Oh, Lord, no. We already found the video, and we've erased every copy you have. Dear little Maria Lu was so helpful with that. No, Mister Wickham, if you don't help us, we're going to leave you here and tell all of Lizzie's viewers exactly where you are. Most of them are women, you know, and they don't like you very much. One was even admitting fantasies of chopping off your head! I can't imagine that would be pleasant."
George scoffed. "They wouldn't actually do anything."
Mrs. Bennet shrugged. "If you're sure. Do you have another gag, Eloise? We don't want to attract the wrong folk, and he should rest his voice for all the screamin' he'll be doing. And make sure that the castratin' knife is somewhere he can't get a hand on it."
Another woman stepped forward and took a gag out of her pocket, smiling.
"Wait!" George said, cursing himself when Mrs. Bennet only raised an eyebrow. "What do you want me to do?"
Mrs. Bennet smiled. "You're going to come with me, and you're going to put all your money into paying off whatever the family needs. Then you're going to abjectly apologize to my Lydia. Then you're going to go back to hobnobbing in your old circle and supplying us with names of rich, young, single people."
"Any and all of them," the woman strangling him said, her voice distinctly more chipper.
"See, none of us want our children to ever worry about money," Mrs. Bennet said. "So you're going to help them all marry into it and then be able to live at their heart's content. And if you try to double-cross us...well, even if the viewers forget, there are some places where we'll just show the videos and photographs of what you've done and they'll handle you for us. What do you say, Mister Wickham?"
George swallowed, glancing around the room. Every single woman stared at him, eyes cold. "I- I'll do it. Who are you people?"
Mrs. Bennet smiled. "We're the 2.5 WPF Club, dear. Nothing gets in our way."
That sentence really shouldn't have made him feel so terrified.