There. Ta-da! The last chapter. Drumroll, trumpets, and all that jazz.
* * * * * * * * *
Willis had just run into the storeroom again with Pete and some other workers, when another huge crash was heard.
"Oh no!" he exclaimed. "I hope MacGyver got out of the way at that one."
"Willis, I thought you said there were a ton of boxes in the way. I only see about twenty," Pete said, looking around the room.
"Hey, you're right! There were a lot more here before. Maybe MacGyver did something."
"Maybe. All right, let's fan out and look for MacGyver," Pete ordered.
"Yeah! Look mainly in the back of the building though!" Willis added.
"C'mon, let's go back there." As they were looking around, jumping over boxes, and tripping on them, they heard a groan. Both their heads turned in that direction.
"MacGyver?" Pete asked.
"Owwww. What?" came a confused sounding MacGyver's reply.
As they looked in that direction once more, they spotted MacGyver lying near a heap of boxes.
They ran over just as he was sitting up. His appearance was awful. He was pale and sweaty and there was a huge swollen bruise on his arm and head.
"C'mon, let's get you to a doctor," Pete said, as he and Willis lifted him up. As they lay MacGyver into the back of the old van, Willis decided it was time to say 'I told you so.'
"So, MacGyver, I thought you said the only reason you got hurt was because nutcase maniacs were always after you. Did Murdoc push over the boxes?" he asked solemnly.
"Oh shut up, Willis. I have a headache."
"You have to admit, though, that you get hurt a lot. If you say 'Yes Willis, I get hurt a lot. I'm sorry, you were right,' I'll leave you alone."
"Yes Willis, I get hurt a lot. I'm sorry, you were right. Now shut up, will you?" MacGyver asked, exasperated.
THE END :0)
* * * * * * * * *
Willis had just run into the storeroom again with Pete and some other workers, when another huge crash was heard.
"Oh no!" he exclaimed. "I hope MacGyver got out of the way at that one."
"Willis, I thought you said there were a ton of boxes in the way. I only see about twenty," Pete said, looking around the room.
"Hey, you're right! There were a lot more here before. Maybe MacGyver did something."
"Maybe. All right, let's fan out and look for MacGyver," Pete ordered.
"Yeah! Look mainly in the back of the building though!" Willis added.
"C'mon, let's go back there." As they were looking around, jumping over boxes, and tripping on them, they heard a groan. Both their heads turned in that direction.
"MacGyver?" Pete asked.
"Owwww. What?" came a confused sounding MacGyver's reply.
As they looked in that direction once more, they spotted MacGyver lying near a heap of boxes.
They ran over just as he was sitting up. His appearance was awful. He was pale and sweaty and there was a huge swollen bruise on his arm and head.
"C'mon, let's get you to a doctor," Pete said, as he and Willis lifted him up. As they lay MacGyver into the back of the old van, Willis decided it was time to say 'I told you so.'
"So, MacGyver, I thought you said the only reason you got hurt was because nutcase maniacs were always after you. Did Murdoc push over the boxes?" he asked solemnly.
"Oh shut up, Willis. I have a headache."
"You have to admit, though, that you get hurt a lot. If you say 'Yes Willis, I get hurt a lot. I'm sorry, you were right,' I'll leave you alone."
"Yes Willis, I get hurt a lot. I'm sorry, you were right. Now shut up, will you?" MacGyver asked, exasperated.
THE END :0)