Buckets: A Story
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"Uh, are you sure this is going to work, Tom?"
"Of course this is going to work, Jimmy!" said Tom seconds before driving his car off of a bridge. "Wait for it.... now!"
Jimmy stuck an umbrella out the window of the new, four-door sedan and opened it up, hoping it would work like a parachute as Tom said it would. It didn't.
The car plummeted to its imminent destruction, and as it hit the ground, it blew up into a blazing pile of flame, whilst sending hot pieces of car parts flying in every direction, the beautiful moment of a child's first steps interrupted by decapitation from an airbourne piece of piston.
However by that time Tom had crawled away from the scene and was wiping the dust off of his new silk suit. Had exactly he got away from of all of this is beyond me, but at this point you shouldn't be asking questions, you should be enjoying every word of the story. Every word of it
Needless to say, Jimmy was not so lucky, imploding on impact and having the few remnants of his poor body ignite in the flames around him.
"Well, he was a poor assistant anyway," said Tom before walking away with a particularly fancy strut in his step.
You see, Tom was we like to call a "Stunt Master". What is a stunt master, you ask? You know, I once asked myself the same question, but at the time I was in a stunt convention so everyone stopped and stared at me. Then I was beaten up. Regardless, you probably aren't in a stunt convention right now, and if you are I highly advise you get the hell out before you ask yourself what exactly a stunt master is. Now, a stunt master is somehow who is a master of stunts. Amazing, eh?
Anywho, back to the story, Tom quite enjoyed his job, though he constantly put his life in danger and accidentally slaughtered boys he called his "assistants" in his ridiculous stunts.
"I quite enjoy my job, though I constantly put my life in danger and slaughter boys I call my assistants with my ridiculous stunts," Tom said cheerily walking away from the growing fire behind him. His car decided to land right in the middle of wheat fields and therefore set the field ablaze, which would eventually burn and burn through all of the local towns and destroy hundreds of peoples' homes. But at this point he didn't care. He had to get back to his "stunt center" as he put it, to work on new, even more ridiculously life-risking stunts that amused no one but himself.
It was getting dark, his home was sure to be empty now. Once he arrived at his not-so-secret lair (he lived inside of a Wal★Mart), the entire wheat field was burned to the ground, and the surrounding barley and corn fields had their fair share of flames as well. This sent the local beer brewery out of business, but Tom didn't care because he worked at factory down the lane that made salad bowls. You see, he did the "Stunt Master" crap on the weekends, and for the rest of the week, he stuck little labels saying "WARNING: Consumption of this bowl may result in painful bowel movements." on every salad bowl as it rolled out of the production hall. Then he would toss it in the trash bin and burn it. The company, who was mystified as to where exactly all of their salad bowls went after the sticker site, we're going out of business and Tom was going to get laid off. However, the building recently burned down in the fire, so Tom didn't have to worry about that, either.
But at this point Tom did have something to worry about—no, it wasn't the zombies grouping around Wal★Mart to eat him once he went outside, it was the fact that his most recent assistant had been blown up. However at the moment the zombies should have been worrying him, that and the fact that all he had to defend his abode was a couple of toothpicks and a few pairs of underwear for toddlers. Reasons why he didn't just go to the hunting section of Wal★Mart and steal a few shotguns isn't really my business, so we'll just leave that whole part of the story out.
Now, he decided that he should probably get a new assistant.
"I should probably get a new assistant," Tom said to himself and the shopping cart full of old, yet amazingly low priced movies that was next to him.
And he needed a good one, too.
"And I need a good one, too," he said.
He turned to the cart next to him. "What do YOU think?" he asked it.
The cart failed to reply, so Tom went to the gun counter took a shot gun and shot the cart multiple times. And then he put it back.
Now forgetting of the his current task, he wandered over to the window to see what was going on outside.
"HOLY CRAP!" yelled Tom. "McDonald's has a large drink for only 69¢!"
If Tom was normal, he probably would have seen the zombies grouping around the Wal★Mart and broke into a screaming panic, but instead he was completely oblivious to these zombies and was mesmerized that he could stock up on Diet Coke for under a dollar. However, he also failed to notice that the McDonald's was currently burning down due to the fire he started.
"Wait, what the hell are those!?" yelled Tom, after looking around some more.
Instead of screaming in panic, it turns out Tom just noticed a pile of old socks and donuts on the lawn in front of Wal★Mart. However, at this time it was almost completed covered by zombies, so why he could see the pile of socks and donuts but not the zombies is something I sure as hell don't know.
Now, back to the story. Tom had already forgotten about the donuts, socks and incredible deal for soda because He was walking around in the McDonald's inside of his lair. Once again, he failed to notice a painfully-obvious-yet-slightly-important sign in the McDonald's. Considering how he had been mesmerized over the deal on the drinks, you think he would have payed slight attention to the twenty signs inside the McDonald's in the Wal★Mart, but he just went behind the counter and picked up a carton that was full of kittens.
"Oh, you're a pretty turtle, aren't you?" he said in that weird voice people use when they talk to animals or little babies. "Yes you are! Yes you are!" he said just before throwing the whole box out the window, where the zombies devoured the box and the kittens.
"Now, what was I up to again?" he asked himself.