Poopie In The Cookies
In the year three-thousand-eleven a small boy walked the sidewalk. A young boy, roughly of the age twelve and three quarters. His hair was a dark shade of red, so he looked as if he had been dipping his head in a pool of shimmering blood, which were found here and there in this county. His clothes were ragged, stained with a green substance that was long exctinct. This substance, a carbon based liquid was once known as soda. These clothes were ages old as soda had been exctinct since the year two-thousand-forty-nine. He had found them neatly folded in a wooden dresser. The wood in fact, was a smooth maple. He walked barefoot, as shoes no longer were permitted. The boy had run away. He was travelling as far away as possible. Across the field of tangled weeds he saw a primitave looking building.....concrete maybe. The boy manuvered through the thorn bushes to a dried up pond. The pond lay in front of this building. As he walked through the doors he found that, this was a school. An old, old school. Curious the boy rushed up the main hall and up a flight of chipped stairs only to find another hall, with lockers on the walls. At a quick pace he briskly walked down the hall....until. His eyes fell on a single locker. Something was different about this locker. It called to him. He took hold of the rusty handle feeling the age in it. Without a moment to spare he flung the door open. The locker was empty......except. For one little piece of paper. The boy who was curious once more, picked up the paper and blew the thick coat of dust off of it. In a sharp bold print it read: "Poopie In The Cookies". The windows shattered. The floor shook. The roof crumbled. What was going on!? Quickly the boy stepped into the locker and slammed it shut. A sharp pain arose from the boy's stomach. He looked down. In horror he screamed because fomr his stomach was a banana, which had pierced his skin.Now th eboy knew the true meaning of pain. The locker walls started shirinking and he was losing blood fast. Slowly he grasped the paper and shoved it under the bent floor panel. With all his strength he pushed the panel down so the paper would be saved. In his last seconds the boy whispered: "...poopie in the cookies....". And then he died.