by Drankuohos Lusch
Hi Wassup! I’m Bilbo. My story isn’t exactly a happy one. It started out Monday morning after waking up to a full diaper. My Mumum came in, and there that feels better. After that, I ate breakfast and went to sleep again. When I awoke, I found myself in a sack. It was the kind of sack in which you would hold a hostage. It was rough and smelled like a dead animal. There was silence. Then all of a sudden the bag opened, and I saw light.
“Hello there baby! My name’s JoJo! How are you! Stewie, this baby smells stink! Get him out of of here!”
The bag closed, and off I went. Later that night, JoJo and Stewie planned what to do with the baby.
“Hey Boss?” said Stewie. “Tell me again what we’re doing with the baby?”
“You’re so stupid, Stewie,” said JoJo. “We’re gonna keep the baby and train him to be our evil sidekick.”
Now the whole time they were talking, I was listening in on their conversation. It was a good plan, but I was smart enough not to fall for it.
All the while, the police, SWAT team, and Air Force were outside Bilbo’s house. His mom was worried sick. She needed her baby back soon “or else!”
At the same time, Bilbo was getting adjusted to being held captive. It was a nice change. Instead of eating baby food, he was fed ice cream and potato chips. Instead of taking naps all day, he was trained to defend himself from flying monkeys.
The day came when it was time for Bilbo’s first real test. They got in the van and drove away. They drove and drove and drove. Once they were in town, they stopped in front of Subway.
“Get out,” yelled JoJo.
They got out and went into the alley next to the store.
“Get in, grab the grub and get out all in five minutes. Then we’ll see if your training paid off,” said JoJo.
So off went Bilbo on his first test. He opened the door and went in. As soon as he went in, he was greeted by an employee.
“How may I help you little baby,” said the worker.
Bilbo pulled out a handgun.
“Gooogoo gaga!” yelled Bilbo.
“Okay baby, put down the gun, and I’ll give you a lollipop.”
“Give me the grub!” yelled Bilbo.
“You can talk?”
“Heck yeah I can. Now stop stalling ’cause this gun is loaded!”
The worker made three subs, one 6-inch for Bilbo, one foot-long for JoJO, and five five-foot-longs for Stewie. He put it in a bag and handed it to Bilbo. Bilbo took it and left, just as promised. Once he got in the van, they went to the hideout. Once there, they gave Bilbo his own AK-47 and medal saying he was an honorary “Chubie Brother.” In the end, Bilbo’s mom died looking for him, and Bilbo grew up to run his own gang.
My name is Drankuohos Lusch. If this were my real name, you might be able to track me down. All I can tell you that is true is that I’m in seventh grade.