The kid’s eyes went wide as dinner plates. “Stay back! I know your kind! You’ll use my skin for a lampshade!”
What followed was a chain reaction of catastrophic misunderstanding. tucker and dale
By evening, the body count was zero—but the accident count was legendary. One kid jumped out of a second-story window because he saw Dale holding a sickle (it was a weed whacker). Another ran into a closed bear trap (the non-lethal, jaw-spreader kind) and limped around howling for an hour. A third tried to “stealthily” cross the murder swamp and sank up to his waist in muck. The kid’s eyes went wide as dinner plates
“I’ve got you, miss!” he said, water streaming down his face. You’ll use my skin for a lampshade
Tucker had finally gotten the ancient machine to start. It roared to life, belching black smoke and a single, forgotten squirrel that shot out like a fuzzy cannonball. The squirrel, understandably enraged, latched onto Chad’s hair.
“The cellar floods every spring,” Tucker said. “It’s more of a mosquito sanctuary.”
