"…with the recent rise of child abduction…" Bzzzzt.

Summertime, and the livin's easy, Bradley's on the microphone with Ras M.G., all the people in dance will agree-

"Hey dude!"

"Kyle, I think we've got a problem."

"Huh?"

"Are you watching TV?"

"Yeah dude, stupid fucking reruns."

"Channel 4. Now!"

-silence-

"Kyle?"

"Holy shit, dude!! Remember last time this hap-"

"Mmhm."

"Get some sleep, we need to figure this out in the morning."

"Kay. Night dude."

Kill the lights. These children learn from cigarette burns, fast cars, fast w-

"Kyle, it's 4 in the fucking morning, what do you want?"

"Stan, get the hell out of bed, it's happening again!"

"What's happe-. Oh, shit, gotta go," I whispered as I shut my phone, "Yeah, Mom?"

"Stan, remember when we had that whole fiasco about child abduction?"

"Yeah, Mom, you and dad overreacted and sent us all out of town."

"Yes," she sighed, "well recent reports show that we actually should ask you to le-"

"Dude! You did the exact same thing last time!"

"This time, we feel that we have to do this. It's for your own safety."

"This is stupid, Mom."

"Stan! You pack up and leave right now before one of us abducts you!" My dad yelled from downstairs.

I sighed as a started to throw my stuff into my bag. My parents are great, but they take stuff to far. I tracked over a couple of the times my dad overreacted as I threw three pairs of jeans, a couple band shirts, some boxers, and a couple socks into the bottom of my bag. Maybe if they listened to themselves every once in a while they could hear how stupid that they sound sometimes. I grabbed my Sager and stuffed it behind my clothes, then grabbed the tangle of wires that consisted of iPod wires, a computer charger, a phone charger, some shoelaces, and a couple guitar strings, and shoved them all into my bag, and dropped it by the door. I pulled on my jeans, and the same morning routine I had been doing for the whole year ran by second nature. Cell phone, right pocket; iPod and headphones, left pocket; butterfly knife, that little seemingly useless pocket on the right side of all jeans; Zippo, right pocket; wallet, back right pocket; switchblade, right pocket. Then I threw on my 3OH!3 shirt. I can't understand why I like them so much. Then, I tossed my shoes, my hat, and my coat onto my body. This whole routine may seem complicated, but I had been doing it so long, I barely noticed it.

I awoke from my morning routine trance, and wandered out of my bedroom grabbing my backpack on the way. Just as I grabbed my toothbrush, I heard a familiar voice at the door.

"Mm mm-hm hmm hmmbhm bhmm mh-hmm." [My mom and dad kicked me out again.]

"I know, Kenny, it's the child abduction thing again." I yelled towards the hallway.

"Mbhm? DHMMTMMMHM!" [Again? GOD DAMMIT!]

"Be out in a second."

"Mmkhm." [Okay.]

Kenny was waiting outside the door while my parents were sobbing in the kitchen.

"Hey Kenny."

"Mmmh." [Hey]

"Stan!" My name was turned into a mad battle cry as my friend Kyle ran towards me.

After a brief conversation on our current predicament, we headed for the Cartman household to find that he was staying as a fugitive in his bedroom because of his fear of lack of food. With a couple insults revolving around "fat-ass," "Jew," and "faggot," and a couple stray comments out of left field, we were off.

We were about to pass the school when I remembered something I was missing. I ran inside the school, to the janitorial closet, and grabbed my Walden acoustic. I couldn't believe that I had almost left without it. I could barely make it a day without it. I would've never survived. I locked the strap onto it, and threw it on to my back.