fellow! Let me tell my story. No, there was no octopus on him. Bob woke up to find that a picture hanging on the wall of his room was crooked! It was a tragedy. So he immediately got up and straightened it out. He put his slippers and robe on, and opened the door to the hallway. He was immediately confronted with…” continued the grandpa.

  “A giant alien armed with an alien gun, which was pointed menacingly in Bob’s direction?!?!” eagerly suggested the boy.

  “No. Bob was confronted with the wonderful smell of pancakes, made lovingly for him by his wife… Bobica!” exclaimed the grandpa.

  “I don’t suppose that those are radioactive pancakes, by any chance?” whispered the boy.

  “No. Normal, delicious pancakes. With syrup. Mmmmm, syrup! Where was I? Oh, yes. After Bob had eaten his pancakes, he got dressed for work. As he was walking out to his car, he felt something in his jacket pocket. It was… grandson?” the grandpa nudged.

  “Oh, um, right. Was it the smallest scorpion known to mankind, which is among the most deadly?” offered the grandson.

  “No. It was his car keys, which he had almost forgotten!” exclaimed the grandpa.

  “Grandpa, this story is so boring! Why can’t there be a scorpion?” whined the boy.

  “No scorpions. Just car keys. Any-who, Bob got into his-” insisted Grandpa.

  “Bob-mobile, which was super-turbo-jet powered?” groaned the boy, in a final attempt.

  “No. Just your average, mid-priced car. But next to him in the car, he found… grandson? Are… are you asleep? Hm. I see. Well, next to him in the car he found a radioactive alien scorpion, with fifty tentacles, in a super-jet-turbo car. The end,” concluded the grandfather as he tucked the boy into bed. The grandpa shuffled away, and let himself out. But right before he close the door, he looked at the sleeping boy and smiled. “Works every time,” chuckled the grandpa.

  Story Six: A Lazy Victim: Once upon a time, there was a man named Phil. Now, Phil was a very lazy man. All day and all night he laid on his couch, often either sleeping, eating, or watching TV. One night, a man by the name of Chris came to rob Phil.

  Chris was a sneaky criminal, who had robbed many banks and houses in his career. Always swift and secretive, he would always slip off of the crime scene before the cops came. So, on this particular night, Chris came to rob Phil. He was dressed all in black, so he would not be seen by Phil.

  Chris came up to Phil’s door and picked the lock with ease. He slipped into the house, and slunk around looking for the safe. He looked everywhere, but he couldn’t even find it! He got angrier and angrier at himself for not finding it, even when he’d been searching for twenty minutes! He didn’t like to waste time. Chris needed to do what he didn’t like doing: threatening. So he pulled out his gun and walked to the living room, where Phil was watching TV. Chris pointed the gun at Phil.

  “Don’t move or I’ll shoot! I’m robbing you. Where is your safe?” threatened Chris.

  “In the kitchen,” sighed Phil, not even bothering to look at Chris.

  “You… you keep your safe in your kitchen? No. You’re lying! Where is it?” demanded Chris.

  “Why do you even care? I said it was in the kitchen,” replied Phil. Phil was not at all scared of the gun.

  “Dude, I’m pointing a gun at you!” exclaimed Chris.

  Finally, Phil turned his head away from the TV to look at Chris. Phil raised an eyebrow. “So?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you scared?!?!” shrieked Chris.

  “Nope. My safe’s in the kitchen. It’s in the cabinet beneath the counter on the left side,” sighed Phil, attention returned to the TV.

  “Um… ok? Thanks. But if it’s not, I’d be scared if I were you!” warned Chris. Chris ran to the kitchen and found the spot Phil had instructed him to go to. Sure enough, the safe was right there. “He! Here it is! And that Phil guy doesn’t even care!” thought Chris as he began to analyze the safe, trying to figure out exactly what type of safe it was, and how he would crack it.

  “Hey, thief-robber-guy! Can you get me some nachos, with lots of cheese, while you’re in there?” yelled Phil.

  “Why would I get you nachos? I’m not your butler!” Chris shouted back.

  “I’ll give you the password to my safe if you get them for me! Then you won’t have to go to all the trouble of unlocking it and leaving evidence of a robbery for the cops,” called Phil. Chris paused, and then grumbled a bit under his breath.

  “Where are they?” he asked.

  “There’s a good thief! In the cabinet next to the safe,” responded Phil.

  “This is quite an interesting fellow,” thought Chris as he pulled out a bag of nachos and a handful of artificial cheese packets from the cabinet. Chris trudged over to Phil’s couch and gave him the nachos.

  “Thanks. 349251,” Phil thanked.

  “349251. Right. Thanks,” sighed Chris as he jogged back to the safe. He unlocked it to find quite a stash.

  Of more nachos.

  “Phil! There are only nachos in here!” yelled Chris in anger.

  “Who needs money when you can have nachos?” questioned Phil.

  “That’s it! I quit. I quit! I’m out of the business. I’m turning’ myself in, ok? Happy?” shrieked Chris.

  “Whatever. Lock the door when you leave,” called Phil. And Chris left and went to jail.

  Story Seven: Feeling Sleepy: Hey guys! I stayed up all night last night, and now I’m back. I’m super tired, so, if I accidentally fall asleep during this story, I apologize in advance. 

  So, once upon a time, Zzzzzzzzz…. No, just kidding! Once upon a time there was a boy named Bernie, and he really liked hanging out with his friends. So, one sunny day, Bernie decided to… um, he wanted to… ummmmmmmmmmmm… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzz- whoa! What? Who? When? Where? How? Pickle? Oh! Sorry, guys! I just kinda took a little nap, there. :0

  Where was I? Oh, right. Robert? No, that’s not it. Bert? No- Bertie? No, now… let me think… ah! Bernie! Right! Ok, so Bernie was headed over to a beach with his friends, when he heard some meowing from a nearby tree, where there was a poor little kitten… stuck in… the… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…… oops! Darn it! I fell asleep again!!!!!! Ok, so there’s a kitten stuck in a bush- er, tree, I think? So he called the police, and a fire truck, and… an ambulance... and a… no. I’m… not… gonna… fall… asleep…….. 8tyyyyyyyyye57o8olghdfihglkiosu4y oh no! I fell asleep on the keyboard! I’m such a bad storyteller. I think… I might… *sniff, sniff!*…

  No, there’s no time for sobbing! I must finish this story. The kitten was saved, and Bernie kept walking to the beach, where he was to meet up with his friends, but they… weren’t… there… so he waited… and napped… ah, naps. I could….… use one…………… of………………….. those……………………………..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz… huh? Must. Finish. Story. Was Bernie eaten by the… giant sea monster… *yawn* yet? Or was that… in story four?

  I apologize, readers. I just… can’t write today. I tried. I’m too tired. You can go now. Sorry. Maybe another time. I’m just gonna *yawn* take a nap. Bye! ZzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……………………………..

  The end! 

 
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