A/N: I own nothing! Again, thanks to all of you who reviewed!
To 2001!
I gasped. What had Danny done? If he had put my floppy disks in the waffle iron or something, I would kill him! I ran down the hall, almost afraid to open my eyes to see what horrible scene of ruin lay ahead.
It wasn't quite that bad. But for Allen it was. Danny had tried to make the plastic cowboy Carl had given Allen hold up the lid to the waffle iron. The cowboy fell back ward into the still-hot iron. The cowboy melted and had a waffle pattern on it's back.
It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Allen's mouth was open in shock, and I was afraid that he'd leap on Danny and try to kill him. Actually, he had done that to me several times before when I told him he had no life and such.
"You, you, you killed Cowboy Bob!" Allen stammered. And with that he opened the waffle iron and pulled the sticky mess that was Cowboy Bob off of the iron. Tears welled in his eyes. He sat the gooey, melted body of the tiny plastic action figure on the counter and then walked over to Danny.
He leapt upon him, beating him with a wooden spoon he had picked up. Danny shrieked and tried to get the shouting ten year old off of his shoulders. I had to admit it was kind of funny, but instead of standing there and laughing my head off like a complete lunatic, I ran over to Allen and took him off of Danny. Allen ran down the hall to avoid punishment.
"Why did you put Cowboy Bob in the waffle iron?" I asked, staring him in the eye.
"Well, um, that little boy, Allen, I think, he, uh, told me that the cowboy was strong enough to hold it up and that I should try it. So I did," Danny explained hesitantly. "But I accidentally cooked Cowboy Bob."
Now, this was too much. A grown man standing there, blubbering over a plastic COWBOY toy? I cackled.
"That's hilarious! And don't you worry, Dan-the-Man. He'll get over it."
Danny looked at me oddly. I think it was the whole "Dan-the-Man" remark.
"But seriously, Danny, if a man named 'Doolittle' ever asks you to go on a raid to Tokyo with him, say NO! Please, for the love of cheese, do NOT go on the Doolittle Raid!" I blurted. Oh, man, now I was interfering.
"But I already know a man named Doolittle," he said.
"Auuugh! It has begun! A downhill spiral that will eventually cost you your LIFE!" I shouted, running from the room.
To 2001!
I gasped. What had Danny done? If he had put my floppy disks in the waffle iron or something, I would kill him! I ran down the hall, almost afraid to open my eyes to see what horrible scene of ruin lay ahead.
It wasn't quite that bad. But for Allen it was. Danny had tried to make the plastic cowboy Carl had given Allen hold up the lid to the waffle iron. The cowboy fell back ward into the still-hot iron. The cowboy melted and had a waffle pattern on it's back.
It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Allen's mouth was open in shock, and I was afraid that he'd leap on Danny and try to kill him. Actually, he had done that to me several times before when I told him he had no life and such.
"You, you, you killed Cowboy Bob!" Allen stammered. And with that he opened the waffle iron and pulled the sticky mess that was Cowboy Bob off of the iron. Tears welled in his eyes. He sat the gooey, melted body of the tiny plastic action figure on the counter and then walked over to Danny.
He leapt upon him, beating him with a wooden spoon he had picked up. Danny shrieked and tried to get the shouting ten year old off of his shoulders. I had to admit it was kind of funny, but instead of standing there and laughing my head off like a complete lunatic, I ran over to Allen and took him off of Danny. Allen ran down the hall to avoid punishment.
"Why did you put Cowboy Bob in the waffle iron?" I asked, staring him in the eye.
"Well, um, that little boy, Allen, I think, he, uh, told me that the cowboy was strong enough to hold it up and that I should try it. So I did," Danny explained hesitantly. "But I accidentally cooked Cowboy Bob."
Now, this was too much. A grown man standing there, blubbering over a plastic COWBOY toy? I cackled.
"That's hilarious! And don't you worry, Dan-the-Man. He'll get over it."
Danny looked at me oddly. I think it was the whole "Dan-the-Man" remark.
"But seriously, Danny, if a man named 'Doolittle' ever asks you to go on a raid to Tokyo with him, say NO! Please, for the love of cheese, do NOT go on the Doolittle Raid!" I blurted. Oh, man, now I was interfering.
"But I already know a man named Doolittle," he said.
"Auuugh! It has begun! A downhill spiral that will eventually cost you your LIFE!" I shouted, running from the room.