Is This Acid In My Applesauce? (4 page)

Box
wouldn’t shut up and Theo was getting worried that his parents might hear.

“I’m sorry Box, you know I am,” Theo whispered. “But I can’t play spaceship with you right now. I can’t play dinosaur rider or gas station attendant or pineapple salesman either. Things are different now that there’s a trampoline I can play on."

“Why would you want to do that?” Box asked. “Don’t go, stay with Box. Box is your friend. Box ... loves you Theo.”

“Did you love me when you gave me that papercut last year at Roger’s birthday party? That hurt!”

“Oh Theo we were just playing, that’s all.”

“No, you were mad because I ditched you for that swing set.”

WHACK!
Suddenly Box exploded and Theo was out in the open. Someone was coming for him. Grandma? Evil Theo? Time-travelling Granddad? Jeez first the sprinkles and now this. Heckuva day for a five-year-old.

But it wasn’t over yet. The ghastly figure was getting closer. It screeched like a seagull singing karaoke. It was holding that icky gum in it’s hand that had tasted like a zipper. Whatever it planned on doing, it certainly didn’t involve jumping on trampolines.
It’s now or never,
Theo thought, and he bolted toward the basement.

This is it. Freedom! Trampolines! Jumping on things!
Theo was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when the monster tried to eat him.

He was looking at a gazillion slimy tentacles and a mouth big enough to fit a plus-sized gopher. Its eyes were cold and empty and its breath smelled like a million butts.

Theo turned to run but the hideous beast had grabbed him, its gaping mouth opening wider and wider.
I can’t get eaten,
Theo thought.
That would be so gross.
He twisted and pulled and stomped on the monster’s foot. Finally he wriggled through its grasp and sprinted back upstairs.

“Theodore what’s wrong dear?” someone asked.

“Tell everyone to get out while they still can!” Theo yelled.
“There’s a monster and it tried to eat me!”
How could they have bought a house without making absolutely sure there were no monsters in it? Dummies.

chaptEr eight: Curt & Deb

“Curt
where’s your boy?” his father shouted from the kitchen. “I was told he'd be cheap labor!”

“You know what LSD is, right Curtis?” Deb said, not taking her eyes off her husband.

Curt nodded meekly.

“And Tim, your dumbass, deadbeat, hippie-dippie shithead
of a brother gave it to you
why
exactly?”

Deb looked at her husband of seven years and quietly congratulated herself for not punching him in the face. “If our baby boy really is on ... hallucinogens,” she growled, “we are in serious trouble. He just learned how to tie his shoes Curt! This is how super villains are born Curt! What if he decides
today
is the day to play ‘the floor is lava!’”

“Well how do we know he actually put it in his mouth? Theo!
THEO! Dammit where is he?” Curt did a 360 of the room before he gave up and kicked a pile of cardboard boxes in frustration.