Maleb was an eleven-year-old child. He wore holey black jeans, a white shirt, and had his spiky hair infused with gel so it resembled a large spike on his rotund head. His short body was a surprising 3 ½ feet off of the ground. The young child had a habit of drinking cranberry juice, which left him with a nasty pink ring around his pasty lips. Madt was just a bigger version of Maleb, but he had a lot more brain cells. You see, Maleb wasn’t exactly what you would call the sharpest tool in the shed.
One particularly sunny day in Canada, Maleb soundlessly woke from his dreamless sleep. Idiots usually didn’t have dreams, much less a brain to think. He rubbed his short fingers together and grinned malevolently. Just then, Maleb spotted the hotel balcony. He cautiously looked around to see if anyone was watching, but his dad was asleep in the bed over. Maleb took a running leap from his bed and burst out onto the balcony. “WHAT”S UP! ITS MALEB CADDIX, BUT YOU ALREADY KNO-“
Maleb’s cry of triumph was cut short when a hand grabbed his throat and squeezed it hard. Maleb choked like a rhino and lolled his head to the side, gasping for air. “Shut your mouth, son”, growled a deep voice. Maleb turned his neck, bones cracking, and spotted his dad. He was wide awake, even though Maleb had just seen him sleeping a few seconds before.
“What did we talk about diving off of tall structures?” Madt asked, referring to the time Maleb had made a break for it, leaping off of the empire state building. Luckily, he had avoided his demise when he slammed into an umbrella at a café off to the side. Maleb writhed angrily, trying to escape the chokehold, but Madt strong. He hung like a noodle from Madt’s grasp.
An hour later, Maleb and Madt pulled into the local Walmart. “I have to go buy some groceries, I’ll be right back”. Madt was about to get out of the car but noticed that his son was grinning darkly. He apparently planned to escape while Madt was gone. “Actually, you come with me”.
Madt grabbed a grocery cart and buckled Maleb into the baby-seat in the back. Madt pushed Maleb into the fruit aisle, and Maleb saw his favorite juice, cranberry. He shuddered with excitement in his baby seat. “Let’s go! I’m a savage! I’m not averag-“
Before Maleb could get the words out of his throat, there was a hand clenched firmly around his neck. Madt growled into Maleb’s ear, and Maleb got the message. Suddenly, like a banshee, Maleb jumped from his restraints, leaping out of the shopping cart like a trapeze artist. He grabbed the only thing that he could use, a sharp metal stick hanging on the fruit aisle’s shelves and brought it down on his head. There was a metal THUNK and Maleb collapsed to the ground. Madt grabbed his son by the neck like a rubber chicken, and continued shopping. Maleb’s desperate escape plan had been foiled by his own idiocy.
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