This story was made by my friend bug2buga. We hope you enjoy it.
I accidentally run over a Capri Sun pouch one day. Some dumb kid must have dropped it on the ground out of his backpack or something, and it explodes with juice as I roll over it. Nothing happens. I stop my car and look at the pouch, flattened, then look around, waiting for immediate danger. Nothing occurs instantly, so I get back into my car and race down the street towards my house. Once I'm inside I slam the door shut and lock it, closing all the window blinds too, for safety. My house, which was a calm, peaceful environment is now a war zone as I wait for the Grim Reaper of Capri Sun brand to find me.
It takes 5 hours. I sat in wait that entire time, in a corner of my house. I built a sort of fort out of the chairs and couches in my living room, squaring me in against a corner. Inside the fort I brought a few flashlights (because I didn't risk turning on the lights in my house), extra batteries, my rifle, a knife, some empty bottles, snacks, and some Capri Suns. Every time I finished a Capri Sun I would gently lay it down on a pile in the corner, which was surrounded by candles in respect for their lost comrade. The empty pouches mocked me the entire time, the logo and the man on the front of the pouch. The thing that mocked me most was the logo "Respect the pouch!"
At exactly 10:00pm sharp, a knocking came upon my door. I immediately got out of my daze and grabbed my rifle, aiming the scope at the front door. The knocking continued. But what do you do when death knocks at your door? Do you cry? Let him in? Leave him standing out in the cold?
I chose to answer.
"Come in." I announced, quietly. My deep voice boomed throughout the vacant house, echoing off the corners of the walls which were covered in shadow. The only light was coming from my candles and my flashlight, which was aimed at the door. I could see a sort of dark figure standing in front of my door out of the corner of the front window. It started to laugh, in a deep, booming voice that rocked my bones. I shuddered.
"I- I said come in!" I announced with a little more courage. As soon as I announced it, the door was blown off its hinges. All the candles in my corner were blown out and I aimed my flashlight at the creature. He looked just like the grim reaper from all the books, black cloak, greyish bones, and wispy black fog falling off his body. He rushed me, getting right into my face.
"Yee. Yee who dare not respect the pouch. What have thee done? And what shall I have seen be done back to you!?" His face was inches from mine, and he smelled like mildew and rot. I gagged, but held it down.
"I- I don't know! I didn't mean to!" I cry out.
His eyes seem to move downwards, sizing me up in a way. He laughs once more, only this time I can feel it against my heartbeat. His tune against my body's own. I tremble in his arms, preparing myself for the worst.
The reaper lets go of me, and prepares to strike with his gigantic scythe, which glows in the moonlight unnaturally. I can't even move, or use my gun to counter him. I don't even think it'll work anyways. He arches his arms back, preparing his blade. I pee myself. But as soon as his scythe is about to hit my neck, the wall next to me smashes to pieces.
I turn my head towards whatever being just broke through my house, expecting more Capri Sun grim reapers who are hoping to get in with the fun. Instead I see him, a giant red jug, dripping with red juice. "OH… NO!" He announces. I smile slightly. The Kool Aid man is here to save me!
The giant red jug of juice jumps on top of the Capri Sun grim reaper, crushing him instantly. He fades away into a black smoke with a scream. The Kool Aid man helps me up and I thank him, while trying to ignore the urine dripping down my leg. He leaves the same way he came, smashing through my wall a second time and destroying the structure of my house even more. I don't even care. I sigh.
I also make an oath to myself. That I will never drink Capri Sun again. Kool Aid saved my life, and the least I can do is stick to it, brand loyalty.