Chapter 6-Cobra's Visit

A young woman named Jazz walked up to the hula school. She was Sam's sister. "Sam?" She asked; Sam wasn't there. "Sam?" She asked again and looked around. Jazz went up to the school window and peeked in. "Sam?" No answer. "Oh no," she moaned, and started running home. "You'd better be home," Jazz said to herself as she ran.

Jazz was running so fast, she didn't see a navy blue car that was slowly pulling out of an alley. It stopped suddenly when it saw Jazz, but Jazz was in a bad mood. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" She kicked the car's silver bumper and left a dent. "Stupid-Head!" Jazz called over her shoulder as she ran off. Inside the car, a black man dressed in white watched Jazz run away. Little did Jazz know, but this was the Social Worker that was going to come and assess Jazz as a suitable guardian for Sam.

Jazz ran up to her two-story house, panting hard, and tried the door. It was locked. "Oh, Sam, "Jazz muttered to herself, then to Sam, "Sam! Open the door, Sam!"

"Go away," came Sam's muffled response. Jazz stuck her head in the doggie-door, looked around and spotted Sam. She was lying on her back with her radio next to her. It was playing Elvis Presley's I'm Feelin' So Lonely. (IDK what it's really called)

"Sam, we don't have time for this!"

"Leave me alone to die," Sam said, defeated.

"Come on, Sam, the Social Worker's gonna be here any minute," Sam just turned up her radio. Jazz growled. She looked up and saw that the door was bolted. She reached in and unbolted it. Then she noticed all the nails going up and down the doorframe, keeping her locked out still. Jazz growled again, and reached for a hammer that was laying nearby.

Just then, the navy blue car that Jazz had kicked, that currently held her assessor, pulled up to their house.

Jazz used the other side of the hammer to pull out a nail, grunting in the process. "You are SO finished when I get in there," Jazz threatened. Sam stayed completely calm, mouthing the words to the song.

Jazz growled again, trying to pull out all the nails. "Oh, I'm gonna stuff you in the blender, push puree, then bake you into a pie and feed it to the Social Worker!" Little did she know, the Social Worker was standing right behind her. Jazz continued, "And when he says, 'Mmm, this is great, what's your secret?' I'm gonna say-"

The man used his foot to pull Jazz out of the doggie door, causing Jazz to gasp, smile, and finish, "Love. And. Nurturing. Hi," she said, standing and dropping the hammer behind her. Jazz was really uncomfortable. "Uh, heh heh. You must be the, uh," Jazz wanted him to finish, saying 'Social Worker," and they could have a nice chat. Instead, he said,

"The 'Stupid-Head',"

"Oh! Oh," Jazz said, realizing he was the person whose car she had kicked. And he was going to decide if she was worthy to take care of Sam! That would be a very bad mark in his book, and might make him take Sam away. Jazz had to make it up to him. "Huh, you know, I'm really sorry about that! If I'd known who you were, of course, I never would have, uh..." Jazz trailed off under the man's deep stare. "I can pay for that," Jazz ended.

"It's a rental. Are you the guardian in question?"

"Yes. I'm Jazz. Nice to meet you, Mr. …" Jazz said, holding out her hand.

"O. Agent O," the black man in white said.

"Agent O. That's a strange-"

"Yes, I know. Are you going to invite me in, Jazz?" Agent O interrupted.

"Uh, I thought we could sit out here and talk," Jazz smiled, not wanting to show Agent O that she couldn't get in her own house.

"I don't think so,"

Jazz's smile faded. "Right. Uh," Jazz partially motioned to the front door, then pointed around the house. "This way," she said, stepping over the railing to her steps, and going behind the house, leading Agent O to the back door, unfortunately where all the junk was kept.

Before he could catch up, Jazz tried the back door. It was locked too. When he caught up, Jazz said to him, "Wait here," then she stepped over car bumpers, old tires and surfboards, some trash, and other various junk. Agent O heard a crash as a window was broken, the radio stopped, and a young girl's voice said,

"Hey!" Then the click of the door, and there stood Jazz, panting slightly, welcoming Agent O in her back door.

"So," she said, trying to act natural. "Lemonade?"

"Do you often leave your sister home alone?" Agent O asked.

"No, never," Jazz said, then noticed a picture on the fridge that Sam drew of herself laying in a corner, with an arrow pointing to her and it read,

"ME ALONE," Jazz gasped and ran in front of the picture, put her arm behind her back, and crumpled it off the fridge.

"Well, except for just now," Jazz lied. "Uh, I had to run to the store to get some—" Jazz was interrupted by a whistling from her teapot. The whole stove was a mess of pots and pans, and all were filthy. "Argh!" Jazz cried, turning off the stove, and waving the black smoke that was coming from the pot.

"You left the stove on while you were out?" Agent O asked, surprised.

"Phlooey!" Jazz cried, slamming a lid onto a pot whose contents had caught fire. "Just a simmer," Jazz said, trying to act natural. She sniffed the black smoke, then lifted the lid. "Argh!" Jazz cried again as a giant cloud of smoke met her face.

"Found that this morning," Sam said, coming into the kitchen.

"Sam!" Jazz said angrily, whirling around. She then smiled falsely. "There you are, Honeyface. This is Agent O,"

Agent O extended his hand. "Nice to meet you," (Forget the part where Lilo says, "Your knuckles say 'Cobra.' Cobra Bubbles," because his name is Agent O for this story. Pretend she just didn't want to shake his hand, or something)

Agent O knelt down to Sam as she said, "You don't look like a Social Worker,"

"I'm a special classification," Agent O answered kindly.

"Did you ever kill anyone?"

"We're getting off the subject. Let's talk about you. Are you… happy?" Agent O asked, and Sam smiled big.

Jazz got behind Agent O and made hand signals to Sam as to what to say; they had been practicing.

"I'm adjusted," Sam said, looking over Agent O's shoulder at Jazz. "I eat four food groups and look both ways before crossing the street. I take long naps," Jazz made the symbol for strong, which is a closed fist raised up to show one's muscle. But Sam got messed up. "And get disciplined?" Jazz looked at her arm in horror.

"Disciplined?" Agent O asked. He didn't expect this.

"Yeah, she disciplines me real good," Jazz held up her hand signaling Sam to stop, but Sam got messed up again! "Sometimes five times a day," Sam said, holding up five fingers to Agent O. Jazz was horrified. She held her face in her hands. "With bricks," Jazz gasped. She didn't do that!

"Bricks?" Agent O asked.

Then Sam told the truth. "Uh huh. Then a pillowcase..." That's when Jazz decided to stop Sam.

"Okay!" Jazz yelled, covering Sam's mouth. "That's enough sugar for you! Why don't you run along, you little cutie!" Jazz said, pushing Sam out of the room. Jazz turned to Agent O. "Heh, the other Social Workers just thought she was a scream! Thirsty?" Jazz asked, walking to the fridge and opening it.

"Let me illuminate to you the precarious situation in which you have found yourself," Agent O said, grabbing the fridge door and closing it. "I am the one they call when things go wrong," he looked at the dirty pile of dishes on the stove, bubbling noises came from them every once in a while. "And things have INDEED gone wrong," then Agent O left the room, and found Sam sitting on the floor. She had four spoons laying on the floor with grass for hair and a hula skirt, and Sharpie for eyes and a mouth. Each one looked different, and one even looked like a boy. Agent O saw that lying next to Sam was a book that read "Practical Voodoo." Agent O observed as Sam gathered all the spoons and shoved them into a pickle jar, closed the lid, then shook the jar violently. Agent O raised his eyebrow.

"My friends need to be punished," Sam explained, and looked up from her pickle jar. Jazz stood in the doorway and groaned. Agent O glanced at her, then held a card down to Sam.

"Call me next time you're left here alone," he said. Sam took the paper without looking at it.

"Yup," she said, staring at her jar.

Cobra walked to the door that was nailed shut. "In case you're wondering, this did not go well," he put his hand on the knob and with a flick of his wrist, the door opened, and all the nails flew out. "You have three days to change my mind," Agent O said to Jazz, then closed the door hard.

As soon as the door closed, Jazz got angry at Sam. Very angry. Her head whipped around, and she glared at Sam.