SACK MURDERER

Bob was in love with Brenda, his wife of one day, but Bob is a psychopath. One night, the night right
after their wedding, Bob went insane. In the blinding dark and deafening silence of the room, Bob
stood up. He walked over to his closet in a daze, pulled out a sack laying on the ground, and walked
back over to the bed. His eyes had gone pitch black, blending in with the darkness around him. He
walked over to Brenda. Gripped the sack tightly in his hands, and shoved Brenda in the sack. Bob
killed Brenda.

The next morning, Bob woke up and found a sack sitting next to his bed. He doesn't know who put it
there or where it came from. He thinks "oh goody it's a birthday present!" (it wasn't even his
birthday but you know, Bob is kinda dull). So he opened up the sack, a bright smile on his face,
expecting a present, but instead, he saw BRENDA'S DEAD BODY. He screamed, sobbing in agony at
the sight of his one true love. His journey to find the killer of his wife.

The police arrive at Bob's house 4 months later, after he failed to pay multiple bills and car expenses.
(Nothing new, but it had been a year since they heard from him so they thought they should go
check in on him.) They knock on the door. No answer. They knock again. Nothing. They yell FBI OPEN
UP before knocking the door down and rushing in. There is no sign of Bob. They venture deeper into
the house, knocking down doors as they go. Nothing. This is where things start to get interesting.
Bob is lazy. Bob never leaves his house. Where could he have gone? They voice their concerns as
they venture farther down the hallway, finally stopping at the final door.

The master bedroom.

A pungent smell wafted from underneath the door. They all glance at each other, dreading what
they might find inside, but finally, they silently nod at each other and push the door open, which
happens to be unlocked. What they find is horrifying. The rotting corpse of none other than Bob's
wife- Brenda.
Obama was a strange boy. He rarely ventured from his home, never escaping the sweet confinement
of memes and Doritos. He never had a dad who loved him: his dad spent all his years as a traveling
vacuum salesman. If the customers weren’t happy, he wasn’t. Whenever he came home, late at
night, he was in the worst of moods. For people don’t often have much interest in buying his
vacuums. So he came home, threw his bag of vacuums down in frustration, and dropped down onto
the couch. Obama, being only a wee boy, would run up to him, yelling “Dad! Dad! You’re finally
home! I ate three bags of Doritos! I think I’m sick!” And his father, being the salty man he was, would
respond with “I don’t care, son. I didn’t sell enough vacuums. Leave me alone.”
So Obama, with tears streaming down his face, ran down to the basement, where his dad kept all his
heavy-duty vacuums. Obama was mad. Enraged. His dad loved his vacuums more than he loved his
own son. Obama sniffled.

“The only way to make him love me is to kill what’s holding him back. His precious vacuums.”
So he found his dad’s most special vacuum- the biggest, most expensive vacuum. That his dad loved
more than life itself. He stood in front of it and stared at it.

“Cherish these last moments of your oh so special life, for you will soon be destroyed by none other
than the mighty Obama.” And with that he brought his pitiful little fist down upon the giant machine,
attempting to shatter it into a million little pieces, just like his dad did to his poor little heart. But
alas, he was too weak. He shattered all the bones in his arm and crumpled onto the floor in pathetic
sobs. “Why, oh, why?” he cried out. “Why does this happen to me?” While he laid on the ground,
crying his little cries, he accidentally whacked his arm against the “on” button on the machine. The
vacuum came alive with a growl, and before Obama even knew what was happening, he was being
sucked up into it.

“NOOOOOO” he screamed out, pounding at the walls of his confinement. “LET ME OUT! PLEASE!”
His dad heard his cries, and with a groan, he rolled off the couch and made his way down the stairs.

“YOU BETTER NOT HAVE TOUCHED MY VACUUMS BOY,” he yelled as he stomped down the stairs.
He reached the bottom, only to see his pathetic son trapped inside his vacuum. His miserable little
face pressed up against the glass. He could see Obama mouthing the words, “please help me”.
His father chuckled. This was his chance. To finally rid of that pile of skin and bones. So instead of
helping his only son out of the suffocating confines of the vacuum, he walked over, and stood in
front of the vacuum.

“Goodbye, boy,” he said, as he grabbed the vacuum and dragged it out back. He watched as later
that day the dump truck came by, tossed the vacuum into the collection of various other garbage
bags, and drove away. That was the last time he saw his son.

*unless maybe later they find each other and it’s like this epic battle, where they become friends but
then he realizes that Obama is his son that he threw away years ago and then he goes “OBAMA I AM
YOUR FATHER” and Obama goes “NOOOOOO” and then they fight.

RAYU
Rayu laid back in her bed, a book in hand, glasses resting peacefully on her nose. She turned the
page in her book, a romance because of course, what else, and sighed. She wanted more than
anything to have a love like the ones in her books. But she knew that would never happen. (Well,
thought, because she was downright gorgeous and secretly all the boys had a crush on her, but she
was just too blind to see it.) Anyway, she snuggled into her warm hoodie and turned another page in
her book. But she was distracted, thinking of a love she’d never have (except she will hehe) and
didn’t pay attention as she turned the page. She ripped it. Her favorite book. She ripped the page on
her favorite book.
She stared at the piece of paper in her hand. The jagged piece of paper, sitting in her palm,
separated from where it belonged. A single tear ran down her face.
Bro no I’m just kidding she totally lost it. She yeeted that book across the room and watched through
blurry eyes as it slammed into the wall. She flung herself off the bed, pounding her fists on the floor.
She could not believe it, the death of the best book she’d ever read.
She sat up. “What is WRONG with me? Laying on the ground sobbing like some 3 year old. I can just
go buy another copy!” So she sat up, dried her teary eyes, found 20 bucks she had laying on the
carpet, and set off to her second favorite place in the world - the bookstore.

She skipped along the sidewalk, humming along to the music blaring in through her earbuds. She
closed her eyes, carried away in her own little world, and tripped over a loose root. She stumbled,
fell, screamed, and hit the sidewalk with a thud. Her glasses skidded off her face, cracking as they
tumbled across the ground. Her phone, which she had been holding in her hand, shattered. She sat
up, her nose bleeding. She couldn’t find her glasses. She held her phone up to her face, staring at the
cracks that crawled across it’s screen. She wanted to cry, but she was strong. So she stood up, wiped
the blood off her face, picked up her phone and glasses (which were laying right by the grass) and
continued on her way.
She reached the book store right as the sun began to dim. She didn’t quite like being out so late, so
she hurried quickly into the store, determined to grab her book and get out.

She browsed the shelves, making her way to the young adult section. She rounded a corner and
walked right into a man. She yelped, dropping her phone and money. She raced to pick them up,
worried that the man would take advantage of this moment and swipe them away. But he didn’t.
Instead he just stood there. She straightened herself and looked up at the man. He had an average
looking face, nothing special about him really, but what he held in his hand was what caught her eye.

It was a sack. She swallowed. “I’m sorry sir. May I ask, why do you have a sack in your hand?” she
said as evenly as she could.

“Oh, you know. Nothing much, just shoving you into it and dragging you away.” the man said with an
evil grin, cackling as he swept the sack over her head and covered her in it.
She squirmed, flailed her arms out, screamed at the top of her lungs. But nobody could hear her.
Nobody heard anything at all as she was dragged into a hidden room in the back of the store.

The little girl hopped down the stepping stones leading to her duck pond. She had just past shoulder-
length auburn hair, pulled back into two braids that bounced along behind her. Her face was covered
in freckles, her skin covered in scrapes. She was missing a few teeth, and the ones she had left were
mostly black. She’s as thin as a twig, her purple flannel and dirty overalls hanging from her body. She
skipped along with bread in her hand, her yellow crocs slapping on the hard ground, on her way to
feed the ducks.

She loved the ducks. It was her favorite thing about her life on the farm. Camp Itchy. She loved it
there. Nobody ever told her what to do, where to go, what to wear, when to bathe. She spent her
days running around outside, feeding the ducks, scrambling up trees. She
rarely bathed, unless you counted her daily swims with the ducks. Oh, how she loved those ducks.

“Ducks, ducks, I’m going to feed the ducks. The ducks like to eat bread. Yum yum yummy bread for
the duckies.” she sang as she reached the pond. “Come here duckies! I’ve got some yummy wummy
bread for you!” She tore a few pieces off the loaf of bread and tossed them into the water, they
bobbed on the surface for a few seconds before the small birds swallowed them. The ducks swam up
to her, quacking, begging for more bread.

“Hehe, you like the bread, don’t ya?” Bunny giggled as she tossed them more bread. She watched as
they quickly ate all the pieces she offered. She hopped from foot to foot, squealing as they little
ducks swam around looking for more. “Sorry little duckies, I have no more. I’ll bring you more
tomorrow though, but only if you’re good.”

And with that she skipped back down the stones, making her way to the farmhouse. She was hungry,
and she’d left some extra bread there for herself. She hummed along to a made-up song as she
bounced along. She was almost there when she heard a rumbling noise to her left. She stopped mid
step and turned to look. She saw a white van tumbling along down the gravel road, coming right
towards her.

How strange. She thought. We never have visitors.

But that only made her more curious as to who this strange visitor was. So she started bouncing
along again, making her way to the van. It had stopped on the side of the road, right there in front of
her house. She reached the door of the vehicle. She reached a dirty scratch-covered hand up to the
window and rapped on it three times. Wap. Wap. Wap.
She took a step back and watched as the window slowly lowered. She looked up. She couldn’t see
anyone.

“Hi! My name is Bunny. I’ve never seen your car here before, are you visiting? Can you please show
me your face so maybe we can be friends!” she called out, hands cupped around her mouth. She
was anxious to meet this new person.
Just as she was about to call out again, a hand stuck out the window. It was holding a lollipop in its
hand. A head soon followed.

It was a slender faced man, with round glasses and a thick mustache. His eyebrows sat on his brow
like two fat caterpillars, and his forehead was large with a receding hairline.
He smiled down at Bunny and stretched the lollipop towards her.
“Well hello there little one. Aren’t you a pretty girl. Would you like a lollipop?”

Bob rarely slept anymore. It had been 8 years since he had found his beautiful wife, dead, in a sack
on the side of his bed. Ever since then he'd devoted his life to finding her killer. And he swore that
when he did, he would do to them exactly what they did to Brenda. But ever since then, he'd been
driven by anger. Uncontrollable, raw, anger. He carried his sack everywhere. He stalked the streets
both day and night, looking for another with a sack, like his. Another, who killed his wife, who he
loved with all his heart.
And as the days passed, with no sign of a sack man like him, he got angrier. As he stalked the
neighborhoods, he started to look for anyone. Not just the man who murdered his wife. Anyone.
“Let me out! Where am I? Please, I swear I won't tell anyone what happened if you'll just let me out
of this sack!"
Bob groaned.The girl in the back of his van hadn't shut up since he threw her back there. "I'm not
letting you out, so you can just quit your yelling before you shatter your vocal chords," he said to her,
his ears tired of listening to her screams.
"I'll shatter your fricking kneecaps!"

"Yeah from your sack? Good luck with that."

He heard her whimper behind him, and a soft thud as she settled onto the ground.
"Why did you take me with you anyway? If you're gonna hurt me, I'm warning you, I am feisty, and I
WILL shatter your kneecaps."
Bob rolled his eyes. He was sick and tired of her yabbing. Why can't she just shut her mouth? And
what did she think he was gonna do to her anyway? He wasn't some sick murderer.

Actually, what was he going to do with her? He'd seen her at that store, and all of his held back
anger just kind of exploded. He'd had the sack in his hand, and he'd just acted on his emotions. One
minute she was crashing into him, and then next he was dragging her away in his sack.
“what was wrong with him?

"Uh, ma'am? I'm really sorry, but I didn't really think this kidnapping you thing through very well. So
um, I'll come back there, in a minute, and let you out of the sack." he stuttered, feeling like a total
idiot.

"So you just saw me, shoved me in a sack, and threw me in the back of your van without thinking it
through at all?"
“Pretty much. I'm uh, not very uh, bright, you see. I um, don't think very far ahead? Kind of just act
on the moment. I should probably work on that."

He pulled the van over to the side of the gravel road he was on. Just as he was unbuckling his
seatbelt to go to the back, there was a knock on the window. He froze. He thought this was a
deserted area, just some random farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Who could have found him?
He gulped, and then slowly turned his head to the passenger side window. He saw... nothing? There
was nobody there.
"Huh," he said. "Must've been a squirrel or something." And with that he unbuckled his seatbelt, but
right when he grabbed the handle to open the door, the voice of a little girl came from outside.

“Hi My name is Bunny. I've never seen your car here before, are you visiting? Can you please show
me your face so maybe we can be friends!"

He let out a breath. Then he smiled. So it was just a child? This would be easy. He reached down into
his separate sack filled with candy, and pulled out a lollipop. He moved over into the passenger seat,
rolled down the window, and stuck his hand out the window. Then he stuck his head out, and
grinned.

“Well hello there little one. Aren't you a pretty girl. Would you like a lollipop?"

The little girl, Bunny, he remembered, looked up at him with curiosity in her eyes. For a moment he
was afraid she would bolt, but instead she smiled widely. Her teeth were like those of a wild animal.
Some missing, most of them cracked and black. But her eyes were shining.
“I love lollipops! How did you know?" she said, hopping up and down on her crocs. He cleared his
throat.

"Oh you know, you sounded like such a sweet little girl, and I just happened to have a lollipop lying
around, and I figured you'd like it?"
"Cool!" she giggled, excited for the lollipop.
"I'm just gonna step out so I can give it to you, okay?
“Okay!"

Bob brought his head back inside the van, chuckling to himself. He reached down and grabbed his
empty sack, unlocked the car door, and stepped out. He walked around to where the little girl was
standing, smiling. He knelt in front of her, and offered her the lollipop.
"Thank you mister sir!" she said as she sucked on the candy.
“Is someone out there? Hello? Help me! He kidnapped me! Help!" came a voice from inside the
truck. Bunny squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.
"Why is there someone screaming from inside your truck? DID YOU KIDNAP THEM??" she shrieked.
Bob sighed, this had not gone as he had planned. And all because that stupid girl couldn't keep her
stupid mouth shut. Oh well, time to improvise.
"No... she's just jealous because she's not getting any candy!" he said, wringing the sack in his hands.
"NO! NO! YOU'RE LYING! YOU KIDNAPPED HER AND NOW YOU'RE GONNA-" and with that he stuffed
her in the sack, opened the back door, and threw her in.
OBAMA
Obama had spent years stuck inside the vacuum. He lived off of the crushed pieces of doritos that
had been sucked up long ago. He was thin and hungry. He looked like a rat. And smelled like one. It
had been 8 years since he last showered. Or ate an actual meal. Heaven knows how he was still alive.
About 4 years ago his vacuum had been thrown into a garbage dump, and about a year after that a
hobo had found it there and dragged it to his box.
The hobo loved that vacuum like the son he never had. And Obama soon learned to love the hobo
like the father who never loved him. The hobo would regularly crush little pieces of Doritos on the
ground and suck them up with the vacuum so that Obama would have something to eat. Obama was
grateful for the hobo, for if it had not been for him, he would have been dead by now.
But even though the hobo was fully aware of Obama's presence, he never did anything to try to help
him out. So Obama rustled through the crap littering the stuffy vacuum, until he found what was left
of a pencil lead and a scrap of paper. He put the paper up to the glass, took the paper, and scribbled
a note on it.Plees get me owt of heer, i hav been stuk in heer forevr......HELP MI!
He shoved the piece out of the little slot in the vacuum. He knocked on the glass on the vacuum until
the hobo turned and looked at him. He motioned frantically at the slip of paper on the floor beside
the vacuum. The hobo looked down at it, then moved towards it and picked it up. His eyes moved as
he scanned the paper, and then he set it down and stood in front of the vacuum. He pressed a bunch
of buttons all over the machine, trying to find a way to open it up. Obama went spinning around the
inside of the vacuum, banging his body against the cramped walls as the hobo activated a bunch of
actions. He screamed, but when he opened his mouth pieces of dust and old crumbs got sucked into
his mouth. He choked, unable to breathe anymore due to the crap blocking his airway. His view went
blurry, then dark, and then he lost consciousness.

The hobo frantically fumbled with the many buttons on the side of the vacuum. Why did a vacuum
need so many buttons anyway? Wasn't it just supposed to suck up trash? He glanced inside the
vacuum, trying to let the boy know that he was trying his best. But when he looked inside he noticed
that the boys eyes were closed. His limp body getting thrown around the inside.

"Oh crap I killed him!" he cried. Driven by panic, he backed up, and then rambed his body into the
vacuum, shattering the glass. He reached inside, grabbed onto the boys arms, and dragged him out.
The boy laid on the ground like a limp doll, his skinny arms and legs spread out in all directions. The
hobo shook him as hard as he could.

"WAKE UP BOY" he screamed in his ear, hoping that would wake him up. The boy didn't stir. The
hobo shrugged.
“Oh well. If he doesn't wanna wake up that's his problem. Imma just go back and sit on my box and
vibe." So he went and sat on his box and vibed. He vibed for like, 4 hours. And THEN, after so many
hours of peaceful vibing, the boy awakened.
"GASP," he gasped. "Where am I?!?!?!" He sat up, pathetically thin, only 4 feet tall. His hair grew
down to his elbows, knotted and matted down with dirt and other random garbage. He Hadn't
grown since he had first gotten stuck in the vacuum when he was 8... 8 years ago. He looked like a 20
year old stuck in a 4 year olds body (he had always been a small child. The hobo jumped up with a
yelp, startled by the boys yell.
"You interrupted my vibing boy," he growled. "You'll pay for that."
And with that he lunged at Obama, tackling him to the ground. Obama screamed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA," said the little boy, right before he bit down hard on the
filthy arm of the hobo.
"OW! WHAT THE HECK MAN" yelled the hobo, who then pulled the small child off his arm and
yeeted him across the dumpster where his box was. The boy lay within the garbage for several
minutes before coming to his senses. He glared across at the hobo.

"Let's not fight. I just need to find my dad. He trapped me in that vacuum 8 years ago. I must find
him and get revenge!" The weak young boy shook his frail fist as he shouted.
"Aight bet."
"Soooo, what's your name?" Rayu tried to make conversation with the younger girl, who was lying
about 5 feet away from her, still stuck in the sack.
"Bunny," came a muffled response.
"Bunny. That's a cute name."
"I made it myself."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."
After this short exchange, Rayu sat there awkwardly, thinking of something to say.
"He kidnap you too?" she asked after a while.
"Yeah he shoved me in a hecking sack."
"AYYY SAME GIRL!" Rayu put her hand up for a high five, but then remembered that Bunny was in a
sack and therefore was unable to complete her half of the action. She quickly lowered her hand. She
cleared her throat. "I have no idea how long I've been here. At least 2 days. I smell nasty."

Bunny giggled.

"Yucky yucky!"

Rayu sighed, annoyed that she hadn't been able to shower. Or read. She hadn't even seen a book
since the one she ripped 2 days ago! She was going insane!
She reached up to run her fingers through her hair nervously, and then she looked at her wrists.
They weren't tied up. Then she looked at her ankles. Not tied up either. She was sitting there,
completely free.
"Man I'm stupid." she whispered, before standing up and walking over to Bunny. She grabbed the
sack, but just as her fingers gripped the material, the little girl inside leapt up and bit her.
"YELP!" she yelped. "CALM DOWN, CALM DOWN! IT'S JUST ME! IT'S JUST ME!"
“Oh," she giggled. "Sowweeeee."
"I'm just gonna untie this sack and let you out, okay?"
"Okie dokie."
So Rayu untied Bunny, and the two of them unlocked the back of the truck and yeeted themselves
out onto the moving pavement.
"Oooof," they both grunted as they hit the ground with a smack, their arms and legs bleeding from
the impact. Bunny was back on her feet in seconds, waving at the back of the van as it continued to
speed away, while Rayu stayed on the floor, groaning in pain.
"Ow," she managed, as she laid on her side. "Well, this hurts."
"No it doesn't!" giggled Bunny as she hopped up and down on her toes. "That was fun! Let's do it
again!"
“Oh please no." groaned Sarayu as she sat up slowly, wincing at the sting in her side. She glanced
around her, at the big houses and tall, green trees. "Where are we?"
Bunny shrugged. "Don't ask me."
Sarayu sighed. "Well I guess we better get moving.. Maybe we can find a gas station or something
and get some food. I still have my wallet with me with a couple dozen dollars."
"Nice."
So the two girls stood up and started their trek down the strange and unfamiliar neighborhood. They
took in the scenery around them, and breathed in the fresh air that they hadn't felt for weeks. It was
amazing. After about half an hour of walking in silence, Rayu spoke up.
"So how old are you?" she asked the younger girl.
"I'm five."
"I'm sixteen."
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
And that was the end of their pathetic conversation because Rayu sucked at talking with anyone. So
they continued to walk in silence for another half an hour. Or they did until a white van pulled up
beside them.

Bob hummed along happily as he drove his big white van down the street of the foreign
neighborhood. With the two girls sitting quietly in the back, and his sack by his left knee, he was
feeling pretty good. Except that he still hadn't found the murderer of his lovely wife Brenda, but he
would get to that at some point.
"SWEEEEEEET CAROLINE," he sang at the top of his lungs. "BUM BUM BUM."
There wasn't even a radio in his vehicle, he just had that song stuck in his head. He was a horrible
singer too. He laughed at the thought of the girls in the back, suffering at the sound of his horrid
voice. Speaking of the girls, he hadn't heard them scream in a while.
“Probably best to go check on them.” He thought. So he stopped the van, opened his door, and
went around to the back. He opened the double doors.
"HEYYYYYYY GIRLIES WHATS UPPPP," he sang as he climbed inside. That's when he realized he was
all alone. "WHATT??????"
He hopped out the back of the van and ran around to the front door. He yanked it open with a
scream, scrambled into the seat, and started the van. He drove at 69 mph around the small
neighborhood for 30 minutes, looking for the girls. Where the heckity heck were they???

He finally found them after driving around for what seemed like forever. He laughed at their weak
attempt at escape. He slowed the van down as he pulled up next to them, rolling down the window
as he came to a stop.

“Well hello there little girls. Had a nice walk?" he opened the door, stepped out with his sack in
hand, and took a big step towards Bunny.
And that's when a big-ass bird suddenly swept down out of nowhere.
"AAaAAaaaaAaaAAaAaa" screamed Bob as he ran away from the dinosaur-sized bird. His legs
pumped at full speed, his arms swung back and forth. Sweat ran down his forehead as he took big
breathes, trying to put as much distance between him and the bird.
But it didn't work.

The bird caught up to his, picked him up with his long talons, and yeeted him across the
neighborhood into a tree about 5 miles away. The bird then flew back to Rayu and Bunny. The two
girls clapped in appreciation.

"Thank you Mister Bird Man!" chirped Bunny.

"The name's Steve."

The girls screamed as the words came out of the birds mouth.
“You... you.. You can talk!" stuttered Rayu.
"Yeah no short Sherlock." replied the bird, excuse me, Steve, as he scratched a spot behind his head.
"Any, how can I help ya?"

After recovering from the shock, Rayu spoke up.

"We need to get somewhere where someone can help us."
"I gotchu."
And then the bird picked up the two girls onto his back and flew across town. He flew and flew and
flew until he plopped down behind a seemingly abandoned shoe factory.
He let Rayu off his back first, and then Bunny.
"Uh, this doesn't look very helpful," said Bunny, arms crossed across her chest. Steve ignored her,
crossing to the back of the alley and to a rusty old door. He reached a clawed hand up and knocked
three times.

Then, a girl about the height of Rayu’s knee stepped out from the now-opened door. She had a pixie
cut with one side shaved off, the other dyed blue.

“Hey y’all. My name is Trixie. How can I help you?”

Trixie bopped her head along to the music blaring in her ears.
"CAUSE I'M A SUCKER FOR ALLLLLL THE SUBLIMINAL THINGSSSS NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT YOU," she
sang. "BOUT YOU BOUT YOU BOUT YOU. AND YOU MAK-"

That's when her jam was interrupted by three loud knocks on her door.
“Stupid..." she mumbled under her breath as she yanked out her earbuds and trudged over to the
ratty old door. She composed herself, ready to be hospitable to her guest(s). Then she yanked the
door open.
"Hey y'all. My name's Trixie. How can I help you?"

Three pairs of eyes stared at her from a few feet away. One came from her good friend Steve, and
the other two came from new faces.
“Steve said you can help us." said the taller girl.
"Well you see that depends. What exactly am I helping you with?"
"We need to get back home."
"And where is home?"
"I don't know."

Trixie sighed. She ran a hand through her short hair, and then motioned for Steve to come inside.
She closed the door behind him.
“Why the hell did you bring these girls to me? I can’t help them.” She whispered.
“Yes you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Okay, maybe, MAYBE, if they at least knew where the heck they were going I could possibly help
them. But they don't. How am I supposed to get them somewhere if they don't even know where
that is?" Trixie groaned in frustration. Steve was always bringing people to her, giving them false
hope that she could help them even though she couldn't. "This is the fifth time you've brought me
random people to "help", Steve. This needs to stop. I can't help them."
“How many times did you say?”
“Five”
“And how many have you helped?”
“Five…. But that is not the point. The point is I have things to do that do not involve helping random
kids get to random places.”

Steve looked around the cramped and crowded room. There was a YouTube video open on the 10
Most Epic Movie Moments, a desk littered with candy wrappers, and a phone with earbuds plugged
in.
"Uh huh you sure look very busy don't you."
"YES I AM! I've got uh, paperwork. Yeah. Paperwork." she stuttered.
“Oh come on Trixie! You're the best dang pilot I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. What if I found
out where they lived? Could you take them there? Please?"
Trixie considered it. She had totally been lying about the paperwork, she had nothing better to do.
"Well, I ammmmmm the best dang pilot I've ever seen. Alright, you've got yourself a deal. Come
back tomorrow with the address and I'll fly y'all right over."

*At this point you might be wondering why they need a pilot if they literally have a big bird who just
flew them over there. Well you see Steve has weak joints and can only do one flight-while-carrying-
other-people a week, so they need a pilot who can fly them somewhere.*
Story
in
Englis
h
Genre: COMEDY
Submitted to:
Miss Rose Ann
Diamanse

Submitted
by:
Jude Rey Silla
11-
Antonov