It was a warm and sunny day.  There was not a cloud in the sky and the scent of summer was in the air it was a perfect day to play in the sandbox.  That’s just what nine year old Timmy thought as he jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and ran downstairs for some breakfast.

 

After inhaling his cereal, Timmy ran outside into his backyard and headed for the sandbox.  Timmy was so excited, it was the first day of summer vacation, he had a sandbox full of toys and the weather was perfect.  Timmy didn’t know where to start, so he just closed his eyes and reached for one of his many toys.

 

“What the hell!”   “Somebody’s been messing with my toys!”

 

Timmy was very upset.  After a few seconds of getting a good look at his sandbox, Timmy knew something was wrong.  He knew something was missing.

 

“I guess I better take an inventory.” 

 

“Let me see: M-16A1, Glock 9mm, my dad’s old M-79 grenade launcher, Uzi.  Hey, my .357 is missing!”

 

Timmy thought to himself, I bet it was that asshole Billy-the-Bully that took it.  That’s ok, I can take care of him.  As Timmy pondered his next move, he lit up a cigarette.  Ya know, Timmy thought to himself, I will just sneak over to Billy’s house in the night, sneak into his tree house, and when he climbs up into the tree house, I’ll slit his throat.  Not only will I get my pistol back, but I will finally be rid of that shitbreather.

 

As Timmy was deep in thought, he did not notice a slight movement in the bushes behind him.  He did not notice the menacing figure creeping out of the shadows, ready to strike.  A figure that stood seven feet tall, had arms and legs the size of tree trunks, a head the size of a pumpkin whose face looked like a giant oyster.  The figure had to eyes that looked like chunks of coal and it wielded a chainsaw.  The chainsaw had a five foot long stainless steel blade, electric start button and was custom made.  As the fearsome figure moved closer to Timmy, it fired up its tool of death and struck.

 

As Timmy sat in his sandbox finishing up his cigarette, he heard a low guttural growl, then the hum of a chainsaw.  Timmy turned and saw the homicidal mutant rush at him swinging a large chainsaw above its heads.

 

Holyshit, Timmy thought, it’s Chainsaw Chuck.  Timmy barely had time to roll out of the way as the chainsaw missed his right leg by mere inches.  Timmy got to his feet and took off running, but tripped and fell over his grenade launcher.  As Timmy was falling, Chainsaw Chuck swung his chainsaw in a wide arc and caught Timmy’s left foot just above the ankle.  Timmy landed on his back and lay the there for a moment.  Chainsaw Chuck moved closer and a grin appeared on his featureless face.  Just as Chainsaw Chuck was about to finish Timmy off, Timmy reached into the waistline of his pants, pulled out his snub nosed .38 and fired two shots into Chainsaw Chuck’s head.  The rounds caused Chainsaw Chuck to stagger back, but only for a moment.  Timmy fired two more rounds, but to no avail.  Once again Chainsaw Chuck moved in for the kill.

 

While Timmy was outside fighting for his life, his mother was inside drinking her morning coffee, when she heard four gunshots.  Oh my she thought, that sounds like Timmy’s .38 he got in his stocking for Christmas last year.  Timmy only uses that if he is in real trouble.

 

Timmy’s mother grabbed her Benelli FN tactical shotgun and ran out the back door.

 

Timmy could feel himself getting weaker by the second, and he could no longer hold up his revolver.  As he lay there waiting to be finished off, Timmy heard two loud booms and saw Chainsaw Chuck stagger back.  There were two holes in his stomach from the flechette rounds that penetrated his body.  Chainsaw immediately turned and ran off through the bushes from which he came.

 

Timmy’s mother rushed up to the sandbox, grabbed Timmy’s left foot, gathered up Timmy and rushed him to the hospital.

 

Sorry folks.  There are more Timmy stories to come.