Mr. Wiggles Big Adventures (Not a Childrens Story)
You leave the grounds. Alone. Abandoned by the best friend you ever had. You never expected this day to come, you wish you'd never listened to him and stayed on the bus to somewhere where you two could enjoy your time in peace and harmony. You look back to see Mr.Wiggles puffing out smoke from a small object, you couldn't believe your eyes. Mr.Wiggles hadn't even laid his eyes on you, not even saying goodbye. And you walked towards the gates. Alone.
You have no money. You have nothing, except the clothes you wear on your sweaty body, and your slightly throbbing ribs. You hear the loud slamming of the basketball, and the angry talking men as they dealt out slam dunks and bounced the ball around the court.
You feel you could walk up the street alone, confidence inside your weak and slender body. So you did. But you knew you wouldn't get far. Not with no money. And hitchhiking is just not an option at all. Thugs drive past in their little cars, some with junkers. Suddenly, you hear the loud ear-piercing blast of guns, you look back to watch in despair as some people in their cars fire at the people that had used Mr.Wiggles. Blood is spilled. And you notice your mouth is gaped open in shock and despair, Wiggy-Niggle, previously known as Mr.Wiggles, in slumped on the ground, blue coloured liquids oozing from his body.
They're all dead.
A tear escapes your eye, and bitter sadness overwhelms you.
The car stops beside you. "Yo! Mother-fucker! Were those bitches yo' friends?" He asks, revealing a few crystal teeth.
You have no money. You have nothing, except the clothes you wear on your sweaty body, and your slightly throbbing ribs. You hear the loud slamming of the basketball, and the angry talking men as they dealt out slam dunks and bounced the ball around the court.
You feel you could walk up the street alone, confidence inside your weak and slender body. So you did. But you knew you wouldn't get far. Not with no money. And hitchhiking is just not an option at all. Thugs drive past in their little cars, some with junkers. Suddenly, you hear the loud ear-piercing blast of guns, you look back to watch in despair as some people in their cars fire at the people that had used Mr.Wiggles. Blood is spilled. And you notice your mouth is gaped open in shock and despair, Wiggy-Niggle, previously known as Mr.Wiggles, in slumped on the ground, blue coloured liquids oozing from his body.
They're all dead.
A tear escapes your eye, and bitter sadness overwhelms you.
The car stops beside you. "Yo! Mother-fucker! Were those bitches yo' friends?" He asks, revealing a few crystal teeth.