Running From the Truth (of Blue Hair)

"Sh*t," Jerald said. "I thought it was the mail man."

"What mail man?" demanded the scientist, going slightly red.

"Oh, sorry to ruin your thoughts of my mom," Jerald spat. "But you weren't the only one in her life."


"That's right," Jerald said. "I'm talking about the milk man too."

"Who buys milk from a milk man?" demanded the scientist.

"Who has blue spiky hair and wears a lab jacket stained with ketchup and mustard?"

The scientist narrowed his eyes. "I do," he hissed.

Jerald squinted at the man. "And so you do," he said. "And who do you buy your milk from?"

"I'm lactose and tolerant."

"Really? Or do you just dislike the milk man?"

"I'm lactose and tolerant."

"Oh, well if that's the case. Hiyah!" And Jerald splashed a random glass of milk across the man's already white face!

"Ah!" cried the mad scientist. "You just threw milk all over me! All over my face--what's your problem?"

"You're...unaffected?" asked Jerald. But before the scientist could respond, Jerald kicked the man in the gut. "Haha!" he cried, running off down the tunnel.

Jerald ran from the terrible truth. The man could not be his father. It was all too much for him. All the wonderful memories of his father pushing him on the swing, playing catch in the backyard, teaching him to ride a bike...the man had really been hiding his blue hair all along under that large touque. He loved that touque. Jerald had never seen him without it: now he knew why: the man was really a mad scientist.

Jerald ran down hallway after hallway in exactly the same manner for each of the seventeen identical hallways. And then he rounded a corner to find a dead-end. He could hear the thundering footsteps of the Slayer or 'Papa' as he was now to be called as the man apparantly stomped up and down a flight of stairs.

Forunately, just as the Slayer rounded the corner, his eyes being closed for the first few seconds, Jerald found a cardboard rock that he could hide his legs behind. He crouched down with his hands over his head because no one could see him when his eyes were closed.

And the Slayer, thinking he was alone, walked up to the wall and tapped on the only brick painted purple. The wall slid open like a garage door, and the Slayer disappeared into a rectangle of blackness, tripping on sound equipment as he went.

The Slayer being gone, Jerald jumped to his feet and slipped through the secret door and into the dark, just before it closed. Darkness surrounded him. Actually, we're not sure if the man in the booth is still alive, but we sit tight and wait for the film to continue because we're too enthralled to move...

The End

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