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Fallout Boy  

Posted by Scott Wilson

Fallout Boy
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 400
It all started when our cliché, protagonist figure, Radioactive Man, woke up in a bush. It was the fourth time it had happened. Feeling very frustrated, Radioactive Man hit a live hand grenade, thinking it would make her feel better (but as usual, it did not). A few unfulfilled decades later, she realized that her beloved diary was missing! Immediately she called her fundamentalist, guilt-dispensing friend, Fallout Boy. Radioactive Man had known Fallout Boy for (plus or minus) 153 years, the majority of which were eccentric ones. Fallout Boy was unique. She was attractive though sometimes a little... stupid. Radioactive Man called her anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Fallout Boy picked up to a very nervous Radioactive Man. Fallout Boy calmly assured her that most disease-carrying chipmunks belch before mating, yet legless puppies usually sassily sneeze *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting Radioactive Man. Why was Fallout Boy trying to distract Radioactive Man? Because she had snuck out from Radioactive Man's with the diary only two days prior. It was a sassy little diary... how could she resist?

It didn't take long before Radioactive Man got back to the subject at hand: her diary. Fallout Boy sneezed. Reluctantly, Fallout Boy invited her over; assuring her, they would find the diary. Radioactive Man grabbed her refrigerator and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Fallout Boy realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the diary and she had to do it aptly. She figured that if Radioactive Man took the 'modded' Civic, she had taken at least four minutes before Radioactive Man would get there. However, if she took the time machine? Then Fallout Boy would be very screwed.

Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, eleven annoying Care Bears that were lured by her diary interrupted Fallout Boy. Fallout Boy cringed; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling relieved, she carefully reached for her dangerous oil-soaked rag and fearlessly hit every last one of them. Apparently, this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the imaginary desert, squealing with discontent. She exhaled with relief. That's when she heard the time machine rolling up. It was Radioactive Man.

This entry was posted on Saturday, January 31, 2009 at 3:54 PM . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .

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