With the early morning sun glinting off the cockpit windshield, Flyboy Fred strapped himself in to the seat of his fine little helicopter, placed his sunglasses on his face and gave a sideways glance over to me. I nodded and quietly asked, You ready? He slowly bobbed his head up and down in the affirmative and that was when I reached out and grabbed his helicopter and chucked him through the air. Over the fence he flew like a grand old Eagle flipping head over tails.
Everything was fine until the words, OH COOL, wafted over from the other side of the fence. Hopping up and down to see who uttered those words and why, I saw a little kid holding my helicopter in his dirty, grimy, little hands. I hollered to the boy to give me back my toy, He gave me the finger instead, said something about my mother and ran off. Quickly I pulled myself over the fence and landed with all the grace of the last Dodo face first in the dirt. I brushed myself off and gave pursuit! Two hours later and about 100 feet into the desert I caught up with the little monster and ... Well, that's when he beat me up and kept my toy helicopter.
Obviously, I'm never going to tell THIS story to anybody.
View plotting how to get your toys back from little kids
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Sunday, March 9, 2014
The Last Known Whereabouts Of Flyboy Fred