Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-32558333-20180407005659/@comment-34904368-20180407095219

I stare down at him as he slams it shut auickly.

“MOM! GET OUT OF HERE, JESUS, I JUST-“

My centipede legs click in anger. “Adam, what the hell is that?” i asked.

“Order Bible! I have procured truths we were sheilded from!” he proclaims like some kind of madman. I sigh and put a hand on my hip.

“You’re going to get tormented at school if you keep that, and by the way, you’re technically breaking the law by-“

The nimble little bastard clutched the book and dived to the side, grabbing his plastic sword, and hurled it at me with a ruthless yell of “DIE, MONSTER!”

I ducked as it flew through his doorway and down the stairs like a rocket. A crack sound and an enraged scream enemated from downstairs.

It turned back to see a small tsunami of Lego flying in my face. I quickly used my arms to block most of it, but a few parts hit me in the eye, and one went in my mouth.

Choking hazard.

Adam threw the box over my head, before diving to the side and leaped down the stairs foot first like a tiny ninja.

My husband, Marcus, was halfway up the stairs, clutching his forehead and holding a plastic sword. “Adam, did you thro-“

He was met with a kick to the stomach and reeled back, in time for the little ankle biter to jump off him, run to the side, and take the rest of the stairs in one jump.

My two two daughters, adopted daughter, and their friends looked up in time to see him jump the entire dinner table and land on the other side.

“GET THAT BOY!” yelled my husband as I rushed to tend to his wounds.

The eldest Oomukade Jenny, the second youngest Oomukade Jessica, and the adopted Werecat Alex, tried to make a grab for him. But he grabbed the tablecloth and did the thing those kids cartoon characters did. He lifted it up with incredible speed.

The entire front half of the tablecloth lifted up, and the three were hit in the fave sith their own plates. They collapsed, clutching their jaws.

The friends, an Ant Arachne and a Manticore tried to run around the table, but Adam pulled the rest of the tablecloth off and threw it over them. He then took his housekeys, locked the door from the outside, broke the key, and ran.

My husband, better, kicked the door down and almost caught the ruffian by the scruff of the neck, but he was too slow. Adam jumped on his bike, a large box attatched to the basket in front. He sped off.



We tracked him to a clearing in the woods, where he was piling wood in the middle of a makeshift campfire. He then tossed gasoline into it, struck the match, and opened the box on his bike.

Out came a blanket and a crossbow. My legs bristled. That rapscallion was not allowed an Order Book at the best of times, but under NO condition was he getting a crossbow. Not ever. I motioned for the others to stay still as I scaled a tree.

Up on a branch near the edge of a clearing, I hung from my branch and unfurled like a banner. Just in reach...

STRIKE!

I caught him by the shirt collar, injecting him with venom while batting the crossbow out of his hands. He dropped to the ground, just as a hoard lf order gang members charged into the clearing with guns and batons.

To be tackled by the police officers called by my darling husband. They grabbed the rascals, and I took my loved one’s hand to guide him out of the forest andto our house, to my bed.

That little brat is grounded. He is currently in a juvinile penitentry, with the rest of his foul little group. But I still, do love him.

The brat.