Greedy Grandson

<i>Then I heard a deep breathing sound that I knew Fluffy never made. I turned around to see what was going on when someone with a raspy breath said, “I’m back.”</i>

I got so petrified I fell off my chair, dropped my glasses, and started looking for them. I picked up my cane and start searching around, but I hit something in the process. I didn’t know what it was, so to find out I kept swinging my cane at where I heard the noise. <i>After swinging it around for a few seconds, I felt something try grab it out of my hands. </i>

<b>“Don’t touch my cane!” I yelled, trying not to hurt my hip</b> <i>even more.</i>

<i>“I won’t hurt you. I just need all of your money,” the shaky voice said. “You’re crazy if you think I’d believe that.” As soon as I spoke, everything went black.</i>

<b>I tried to get up, but something from behind me pulled me back down. I cried out in pain after I landed squarely on my hip. Fluffy growled, but was silenced after having a rope tied around his mouth.</b>

<b>“Don’t touch my dog,” I told the thief. “Take whatever you want, but don’t hurt my dog, or me for that fact.”</b>

“Give me your wallet!” he screamed.

<b>“Evan?” I asked suspiciously. I knew that voice from anywhere. That was my drug addicted, emo grandson. </b>

<i>“I said give me your wallet!” he ordered.</i>

“Here, but all I have is a coupon for Elderly-R-Us,’ I said frightened.

<b>“You have more than that,” Evan said. His speech was very slurred. </b>

<b>“No, I just payed taxes, so I don’t have any more money. Honest,”</b> <i>I said truthfully.</i>

“Wow you aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed are you?” “I’m not a tool!” <i>He said truthfully.</i>

<b>“Go ask your parents. I shouldn’t have to put up with this,” I ordered. “Now you untie me right now or I will call the police!”</b>

<b>Evan hung his head. “Okay Grandma.” He walked over to me, but instead of untying me, he started to laugh.“</b>

“HAHA, I’m not really going to untie you so wheres the money!?”

<b>He didn’t know what was coming for him. “Fluffy, Fetch,” and Fluffy went and attacked Evan.</b>

<b>“Ahh!” screamed Evan. Fluffy jumped on Evan and tackled him.</b>

<b> “All the money is in the bank. You can have it, but you have to call the bank yourself. The bank’s number is 911, call them, but don’t say anything directly to them. Yell, ‘Give me the money, you old bag!’ say where we are, tell them to keep their lights off, and hang up.”</b>

<i>“Finally some cooperation,” he sighed.</i><b> He pushed Fluffy off of him, picked up the phone, and dialed the number. After doing exactly what I told him to do, he hung up and said, “They are going to be here soon.”</b>

<b>So while we were waiting, he got out the deck of cards, and we start a game of Gin Rummy.</b>

Five minutes later we heard cars pull up in front of my house, but we didn’t see any lights.

<b>“They listened to what I told them,” Evan said with a smile on his face. “Let us go meet our guests, shall we? Get up.”</b>

<b>He yanked me up from the ground, and I was doing the best I could to walk, since I was tied up and my hip hurt something horrible. Evan shoved me towards the door, leaned against the door panel, and opened the door. </b>

<b>“Good evening,” he said to the person at the door.</b><i> “Where’s the money!” he screamed.<b> </b></i><b>When he saw it was cops, he said, “What the-” but then he was tackled into the house.</b>

<b>“Do not resist! Do not resist!” the cop shouted. Evan didn’t resist but instead he said, “I don’t have any on me! I didn’t do anything!” </b>He did start to struggle but after a few moments of it the cop tasered him. The cop then shouted into his walkie talkie “The situation is under control! Call back the SWAT Team and Homeland Security. Tell the president he can come out of the bunker, and that we’ve got the infraction under control.”

<b>What Evan didn’t know,</b> (well he didn’t know much of anything at the time), <b>was that I had a code with the police. If I ever called and said, “Keep your lights off,” that usually meant something bad was going on. I didn’t know that they would send in the SWAT Team, Homeland Security, and the army.</b>

<b> My grandson was sent to Juvenile Detention Center, and from there he was sent to a mental hospital.</b> He had been on drugs for so long that it was messing up his brain. Which kind of explains him not knowing the phone number 911 was the police station, and that Cognition Filled Senile Figures, (thats what us elderly people prefer to be called), do pay taxes.

<i>I really feel bad for the people that have to put up with him at the mental hospital. They better not have their wallets on them. </i>