"Okay, Little Lucas, go and play in the nice indoor playground."
"Why is that thing even here? Didn't they take all of these down from a lawsuit or something."
"You're so funny, Little Lucas." Mother Lucas beamed at her funny child.
"GO AND PLAY, BOY." Father Lucas stared angrily down at his unfunny child.
Lucas pissed himself.
Suddenly, without any warning, a huge boulder rammed into Lucas, making him skid across the disgusting, greasy floor to the entrance to the indoor playground.
It took him a moment to realize that this boulder did not exist; in actuality Lisa had rammed into him. "PLAYYYGROUND."
Shit. Is everybody here?
Yep. Eric's dead body seemed to float across the room, followed closely by Chris, who was playing some dumb video game, his eyes glued onto the screen, oblivious to the floating black child above him.
Robert just wandered around
Allison squeaky voice was arguing with Lisa's nasally one somewhere out of view.
"NO, GREG IS MINE."
"NO, HE WOULDN'T WANT A FATTY LIKE YOU!"
Lucas stepped into the playground, unsure of what to do. He set his shoes neatly in one of the bins, and was getting up when he noticed James and Greg in the food place, running to get into the playground.
They got a face full of glass when the door slammed into their faces.
That was probably a bad idea, Lucas thought, suddenly regretting his idea of revenge.
"YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Greg screamed, as James helped him put more dirt on his face. "ME 'N JIMMY GON' GET YOU!"
Lucas ran away, but tripped over Eric's corpse. Steadying himself, he ran up the stair like square things to the highest point, where the slide was.
"HELP OMG I'M STUCK IN THE SLIDE!" Lisa screamed.
Damnit.
A worker ran up beside him, looking down at her. "What the hell. Why the fuck is there mashed up cheeseburger clogged up in there?"
"A girl under the cheeseburger is really fat...and stuck." Lucas answered.
"Well help her."
"No."
"YOU ASSHOLES!" Lisa screamed.
James was panting as he reached the slide. "Greg says I have to take you to his lair."
"You mean to the fake racecar in the air with the steering wheel?"
"Yeah. That one."
"Sorry, but I really don't want to go there."
James' face fell. "But I need to impress Greg."
"Ah. I see." Lucas thought for a moment. "How about you take me there by force, to show Greg how strong you are."
James beamed. "OKAY!"
In the fake racecar, Greg was sitting on the seat, making racecar noised and turning the wheel. "Jimmy. Well done. Sit him in the passenger seat."
James happily pushed Lucas into the seat, which was plastic and highly uncomfortable.
Greg turned to him. "I hate you. And now you must pay." He slowly rose up, glaring daggers at Lucas' small undeveloped body.
Lucas did the only thing he could think of. Grabbing a loose nail from a hinge in the racecar, he brought it down against Greg's right thigh, ripping the skin and causing it to bleed. Greg screamed, grabbing his leg.
Apparently the nail Lucas chose was one of those super sacred nails, and when he grabbed it from its place the racecar started to tilt to the front, and it didn't help that when Greg grabbed his leg he staggered to the front of the racecar.
And suddenly, in slow motion, the plastic racecar started to fall, hitting other parts of the playground with a crash. It finally landed upside down, knocking Lucas against the ceiling.
It felt like hours, but Lucas was sure only seconds had passed since the racecar crashed.
A white beam flooded over Lucas' trembling body, and he stared up, in amazement, as God started to speak to him. Unlike his prediction, church finally payed off.
"Hey. Hey son."
"Father. FATHER! Oh my god! I submit to your holiness, Father!"
"What? I ain't your father."
And that's when Lucas felt the handcuffs go on.
Apparently the white beam of God was actually an AA flashlight.
Sitting in the police station, Lucas found out that he committed "vandalism," and that was a serious, serious crime. They said his parents would have to sign a document, and then Lucas would never be allowed to step foot in McDonald's again.
The handcuffs were poking in his back, and Lucas tried to shift in a more comfortable position. As he did, another po-po sat someone in the chair next to him.
"Remy, what are you doing here?"
She rolled her eyes. "I beat up Allison again. Except this time your stupid ass attracted a bunch of 5-Os."
"Why did you hit her?"
"She told me I rhymed with bike."
"Oh."
"LITTLE LUCAS. I AM VERY DISSAPOINTED WITH YOU." Mother Lucas slapped his wrist. "Did you know your little stunt sent poor wittle Greg to the emergency room?"
"Oh, really? I never could have figured that out myself, considering most serious cuts to the thigh area, which has a lot of veins, by the way, only result in only minor damage."
"LUCAS, DON'T GET SMART WITH YOUR MOTHER." Father Lucas threw a beer bottle at him. A shard of glass scraped across his eyes, and Lucas fell over, searing with pain.
"Father Lucas! Look what you did!" Lucas could hear his mother's voice as he raised his hands to his face.
"My bad."
"WE HAVE TO GET THIS BOY TO THE HOSPITAL!"
"Right now?"
"RIGHT NOW!"
