At first it was a wonderful testosterone-charged adventure for Pinocchio. He'd made friends with that brave boy that had addressed the man: Bruno. His take-charge attitude took away the boring chore that was thinking for himself. Together the two boys followed "to a 't'" rule two. In fact, they thought that they had perfected rule two. It was rule one that had been bothering Pinocchio… who was this boss character? How was he pissed off?
It was this exact thought that led him to believe that he must not only find out who boss is but to get to know him (so as not to violate rule one). He relayed this idea to Bruno.
"Huh, I always thought Boss meant the guy who introduced us to Jackass Island…" he said.
"I dunno… I saw this door that says 'employees only' on it….I didn't know anyone worked here. I haven't seen anyone over our age come to think of it…" said Pinocchio.
Bruno just shrugged and went back to playing pool. There was a bulge sticking out the back of his trousers, and it was getting bigger and bigger…
"Bruno… what's that?" he said, pointing.
"What's what?" he asked, not looking.
"This…" he put his pool cue down the back of his friend's pants in order to get a better look at it, but only succeeded in ripping them. Bruno let out a sigh of relief.
"Hey man, how'd you know that was bugging me? You're a real pal 'nocch." He said, rubbing his behind.
Pinocchio backed up into the wall, wide eyed. A donkey's tail was there above his friend's crack, swinging as if nothing was out of the ordinary about its being there. Before he knew it, he was out of the room and down the street where he had seen the door.
There it was in plain lettering, explaining to the reader that only people that worked there were allowed inside. Why would that be here in a place where there's no rules? A place where only kids like me rule and exist on their own? There was only one way to find out, it seemed.
He opened the door slowly and peered inside. There was nothing inside except for a chair and a wall of magic mirrors. One contained a scene of a shootout parlor, another of a saloon, yet another of the pool hall, one a place that seemed unfamiliar to Pinocchio (picture young women wearing much too much make-up for their age and wearing clothes that are quite revealing), and one with the exact scene Pinocchio was looking at…he waved and the little boy in the magic mirror waved.
Suddenly, he was not so sure he was supposed to be there….
"Hello..." said a soft, sing-songy voice.