Maleb whooped in his car seat as it pulled into the local gym’s parking lot. It was 7:23 in the morning. A cool breeze made the trees bend.
“Careful son,” said Madt, Maleb’s dad. “We don’t want the police to think we have a deranged criminal again. Remember what happened last time?”. Maleb nodded quietly. Madt opened the driver door and pressed the child lock button on the car door. The passenger doors unlocked simultaneously. Maleb struggled in his restrains. Madt carefully unsecured the iron bands securing Maleb to the car seat and the hyper little boy leaped out. “Wooo! Let’s go!” He screamed, spit flying out of his pasty lips. Madt grabbed his son’s arm and led him inside. The receptionist froze as she spotted Madt pulling along an animated Maleb. They had not so good experiences together. The receptionist pointed a shaking finger at the door as it unlocked, leading them into the gym floor.
Maleb immediately rushed to the hand sanitizing station. He spread the bubbly soap all over his body, and then started gurgling it. Madt pulled his son away from the sanitizing station. All of the people working out had stopped exercising and where now streaming out of the gym door. They knew what happened when Maleb got hold of a 500-pound barbell. Madt went over to the pull up bar and started his daily routine. Maleb was now free. He sped over to the weightlifting station and giggled insanely. Maleb grabbed a metal weight with ease and lobbed it into the glass wall. Millions of glass shards sprayed Maleb, but his dad had earbuds in, and had probably cranked up the volume to max. “THAT’S RIGHT! BE A SAVAGE, NOT AVERAGE!” Maleb lobbed another weight through the glass frame, nailing an old grandmother in the head. “HEADSHOT!!!” Maleb croaked, his voice crackly and dry. The wild child hopped to the water fountain. Wrenching off the water fountain sent liquid spraying everywhere from the hose at the base. Miraculously, Maleb’s dad didn’t notice any of the ruckus. Pretty soon, there was water pooling at the bases of the exercising equipment. Madt finally noticed the water when his $5,000 sneaker got soaked. He looked up, to find Maleb, his own son, dancing to a slow tune with the unconscious grandma clenched in his arms. Water sprayed everywhere, making the ceiling drip with it. Maleb froze when he saw his dad splashing over. “Son! What did I tell you?!” Now Madt was mad. And when Madt got mad, Madt was mad. Just before Madt could land a stunning blow to the wild child’s Adams apple, there was a shouting from the gym entrance.
“THIS IS THE FBI, COME OUT WITH YOUR ARMS BEHIND YOUR BACK!”
Later at the state prison, Madt found out that the gym receptionist had reported them to the police, which had transferred the authority to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Now, Madt and his son Maleb were facing a lifetime ahead in prison. What would they do?
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