WEEK 372
When Carl looked under his car, he suddenly knew exactly why it was...


...making a ticking sound every time he stopped at a stop light. So, he got his tool box and started fixing his car. He first used a screwdriver to get the plastic bulb off around the gas tank. When he was done with that, he grabbed a hammer to pluck the tank out of his way. He knew he was ripping the car apart, but he was so sick and tired of his wife nagging him about the noise. When he took it in the auto shop, they couldn't do anything about it, because they couldn't find it. The reason why they couldn't find it was because it was in the middle of the engine. H he fixed it in no time, then put everything back to where it was.

by Alixandra Cherry, Shrewsbury, PA

...that his cat, Jacob, went missing. There laid Jacob in a bloody mess, eyes petrified. Jacob's mouth was also open. A bad stench aroused from the dead cat. Carl wrinkled his nose as he grabbed a hold of Jacob's tail. He held onto it as though it were poisonous as he walked inside his house.

"Honey?" Carl called out to his wife.

His wife came out, a huge grin on her pretty face, "Yes, Dearest?"

"Did you kill yet another pet?"

"Why no, not this one. I actually liked this one...and that's because he didn't taste good."

"Then who did it?" Carl wondered.

A little girl with a cute purple dress came out, a slight blood stain on the bottom hem. She smiled up at Carl as though she knew something he did not.

"I did it, Daddy. I want to be just like Momma," she smiled and skipped off to her room after Carl patter her head affectionately.

"That's our little girl," Carl said.

His wife came over and they shared a sweet kiss.

by Skye Blaze, United States

...that the car didn't start. He saw a black box attached to the under carriage. The red digital blinking light on the box indicated a timer for a bomb. Carl hurried away running as fast as he could into his house.

"What's the matter with you?" Debra asked, "What did you forget now?"

"Don't go out there," Carl instructed his wife as he dialed 911. Debra could hear him telling the operator that there was a bomb under his car.

"I told you not to testify against the Mancini Family! You're putting your own family into danger!" Debra yelled.

It took hours to disable the bomb and for the FBI to place Carl and his family into a witness protection program where they had to leave their home immediately. This should have been done upon Carl testifying in the Capital Trial that had placed several mob bosses in prison.

by Ranae Cherry, Shrewsbury, PA

...making the strange noise that caught his attention in the first place. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the interstate traffic was at least five feet away. Assured that he had a second, he reached under the car and pulled the plastic bag. It took a strong tug to break it loose.

"What's this?" Carl whispered.

Inside the bag was two small black pouches. He looked at the outside of the plastic bag and wondered how the additional weight hadn't caused the plastic to rub against the road, thus freeing the pouches from captivity.

He unzipped the first pouch and almost fell backwards. A blaring horn reminded him of his yet-to-be-lived life. He scrambled into the car and started laughing. He opened the second pouch and burst into tears. Small sparkling diamonds cascaded through his fingers like sand.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sarah," he said under his voice.

by Donald Stidham, Cleveland, TN

...getting such poor gas mileage. Someone had installed a small drain valve on the underside of the gas tank!

"What in the world," Carl muttured venomously, "I thought a locking gas cap would do the trick."

As he rose to his feet, Carl looked suspiciously at all the neighboring houses, figuring that whoever had installed the hidden drain valve, would be in one of those nearby, hopefully not aware that he had discovered their little secret.

"I hope you come back tonight," Carl spoke in an angry tone. "Maybe I'll have a surprise for you."

As he slowly walked back towards his house, Carl's mind was racing, trying to figure exactly what he was going to do, and mentally preparing for an all night vigil by the window overlooking his driveway.

by Stewart Lindsay, Buffalo, NY