molly1

25. There I found the mailman, tied and gagged in a corner of a dimly lit room, his face sparked with confusion. "mmmph!" he was trying to talk to me, but obviously could not due to his gag. I wanted to have a bit of fun with this, bending over like he was a little kid and saying stuff like "who put you here? who sent you? Why are you in my garage? What right do you have to be sitting in a garage that belongs to my parents?" but something about his stupid face made me untie him like anyone else would have. He knew me, as did the rest of the neighborhood, as "that weird Johnson kid', always gettin' into wacky shennanagens, making everyone's lives a bit harder and in my opinion, more interesting. Last week I nearly gave him a heart attack by sitting on the roof, throwing fake homemade grenades at him. Ah, what a week. Obviously, he ( the mailman ) was NOT very gracious at his rescue. "took yeh long enough," he grumbled. "so, what's all this about, anyways?" he said, gesturing toward the rest of the room,which I had not noticed until now.


 * the room was filled with boxes, boxes, boxes...
 * "How am I supposed to know?", I replied, not really caring
 * T.N.