My family pressured me into posting it, so here it is:
BB gun Bill Bobson was possibly the most arguably annoying kid on the planet. He was downright dirty disagreeably displeasing. He also, sadly, was the best BB gun shooter on earth as of the year 2000 US census. He could hit a shrunken squirrel at seven-hundred sixty-six paces.
What was so pesky, pestering and pestiferous about him? Well, he had a really rascally habit. He shot at anything that moved. Whenever the doorbell rang, BB gun would man his outpost at the top of the stairs. The instant his parents had opened the door-BLAAMM-BB gun blasted his BB gun. He got his BB gun on Christmas, 1996. Within the month, no one ever came near the Bobson home. But BB gun didn’t let that stop him. He moved his sniping station to the roof of the Philsbrook Pennsylvania Public Library. From there, he would bombard the streets with a hailstorm of pellets. Everyone in Philsbrook had quite a few big, bright red dots all over their faces and arms. People started calling it the BB gun Bill blight.
“BB gun Bill needs to get rid of his BB gun!” Naughty Nate hollered, right after being peppered with pellets.
The entire town agreed. So Sheriff Sam went over to the Bobson’s home and went straight up to BB guns room, without even bothering to knock. But somehow, BB gun knew he was coming. As soon as the room to his door opened-BLAAAAAAMMMMBLAAAMBLAAM!-Sherrif Sam had sixteen new red marks covering his face. He turned and ran faster than a crazed cheetah, but didn’t get away fast enough to avoid about 20 more marks on his arms.
Needless to say, no one ever tried to rob BB gun Bill Bobson of his BB gun again. It was just too downright dangerous.
One winter, almost the entire of Philsbrook Pennsylvania became ill. They had bright green dots all over them. Combined with BB gun’s marks, the entire town was dressed up for Christmas. The doctors of the town diagnosed it as Crudus Macula Maximus, the same disease that had wiped out an entire town just to the north. There was no known cure. Everyone in town was upset.
“We may as well just sit around and wait for Death to come!” shouted Sheriff Sam.
“I don’t want to die!” cried Gleeful George, rubbing at a green dot that had sprouted up right on top of a red one, making brown.
BB gun Bill Bobson was the first to come down with Crudus Macula Maximus. The town all knew he would also be the first to die.
“At least Bill is going first,” Bill’s father told Bill’s crying mother consolingly.
One night, after the sickness had been around for about a week, there was a knock on the Bobson’s front door. It seemed strangely loud to Billy, he woke up with a start. Who would be knocking at this hour? Obviously a stranger to Philsbrook. No one who lived here ever came to the Bobson’s house. Oh well, Bill thought, pushing the covers back and scratching an oversized green lump on his cheek. Duty calls!
Bill grabbed his BB gun and cautiously walked down the dangerously dark stairs. The knock came again on the door. He could hear his dad snoring like a hibernating bear upstairs.
Bill preferred to let his parents answer the door, it made aiming a little bit easier, but, that wasn’t an option now. It was obvious that his parents wouldn’t answer.
“Come in!” Billy called, tensing himself and putting his finger to the trigger.
The door swung slowly open, without the usual creaking it made. Bill couldn’t see anyone from where he was. So he waited.
Death strode stealthily inside. He was wearing a new outfit, a completely black hoody he had confiscated off some Goth in a town to the north. He called it his Horrible Hoody.
BB gun held his gun steady, though he was shocked. He had always imagined the Grim Reaper wearing a cloak, not a hoody. Death looks rather stupid, he thought.
“It’s time to go!” called Death in his raspy voice.
In your dreams, thought Bill. He was not about to die because some Goth in a stupid looking hoody and low-riders told him to.
“I said-” Death started angrily, but he was interrupted mid-sentence by a loud noise-BLAMBLAMBLAM!!!!
Now it was Death’s turn to be shocked. No one had ever tried to resist before. They all just fainted at the sight of him, or came willingly. But BB gun had just blasted him with 16 pellets, all in the exact same place.
Death was very proud of his lack of a face. He knew that the fact that his face was hidden in his Horrible Hoody was the most frightening thing about him. But now, there was a big bright red dot shining on his forehead, illuminating his face and the pallor thereof.
Death had hidden his face for so long, no light at all touching it, his face was white as snow. And he was embarrassed about this fact. He didn’t like the idea of having a face at all, but a face that looked like a seasick Snow White? That was embarrassing. And now here he was, standing on BB gun’s front porch, with his face illuminated by a big bright red dot as bright as a light bulb.
Death was so embarrassed, that he turned his resignation to the Devil that night. And the townspeople began to heal. No one has died since. BB gun Bill told his story, and the townspeople gradually forgave Bill. Although, if you go to Philsbrook Pennsylvania nowadays, though Bill is all grown up, the town is still suffering from the BB Gun Bill Blight.
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