Author's Note: I realize that I should explain this. Book three's title was Oops. This meaning probably isn't too clear. It refers to Cindy realizing that she made a mistake by not believing Jimmy in book two. Ok, now back to the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Jimmy Neutron or any related characters.
John jumped out of bed. It was Saturday morning. He walked over to his desk and checked the clock. 5:30! Great, I overslept. He walked over to his closet and opened it. He pulled out two dumbbells and began working out.
Several hours later John's dad got up and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sighed as he heard the thump of John's weights hitting the floor. Why does he work so hard? He should be sleeping or out with his friends, not lifting weights. He started to make his breakfast as he opened the paper.
John was sitting on his bed, meditating, when he heard his dad knocking on the door. Can I ever have a minute alone? he angrily thought. "Yes, come in father."
Mr. Duncans entered his son's room. "Um, you know that thing that you've been asking me to do with you? If you want to, I can take you to do it now," he quietly told his son.
John couldn't help but open his eyes a little in interest. He stared his dad in the face. "Are you serious?" he calmly asked. Mr. Duncans nodded his head. "Alright, I'll be at the in ten minutes. I need to prepare," John said as he hopped off his bed and took some clothes off his dresser.
Twenty minutes later father and son were driving towards their destination. Mr. Duncans cleared his throat before attempting to break the ice. "So, anything new at school?"
"Nope," John said as he continued staring out the window.
"Any ladies catching your eye?" his dad questioned.
John chuckled a little. "Father, I have too much to worry about to be distracted by some stupid girl," he reminded his dad yet again.
Mr. Duncans frowned as he continued driving. A few minutes later he parked the car. "Well, we're here," he told his son.
John hopped out of the car and walked over to a man standing behind a counter. "Two GLOCK 22s, please," he asked as his father handed the man some money.
John and his dad walked over to the shooting range. They checked their guns and stared out at the targets.
"So, I guess we just aim and pull the trig-," Mr. Duncans started. He looked to his left and saw that his son was already emptying the fifteen rounds. He looked out about a hundred yards and saw each bullet hit the target. "Wow, you're really good."
John just nodded as he emptied the magazine and popped a new one in. He resumed firing.
Mr. Duncans' smile slowly turned into a frown as John continued firing. He kept hitting the target dead center. How in the world does he know how to do that? he nervously thought as John reloaded again.