Alfred Tames the Brendabeast

Little Alfred Stoffer grew tired of waiting for his mother. She left him in the car while she went into T. Cooks Confectioners on the High Street. It was her mother's birthday. A box of chocolates would make the perfect gift. Alfred waited for what seemed an hour then decided to unleash his imagination and venture out and away from the safety of the Pontiac to search for his missing mother. He turned the search into a game. Alfred imagined he was on a safari in the deepest jungles of Africa. Out there was the illusive Brendabeast. Using its sharp teeth and enormous claws it was known to attack school buses full of African children. In his mind’s eye, Alfred saw it pounce on a poor defenseless African grandmother as she hung her washing out to dry. The savage beast killed the grandma AND soiled her laundry. Other hunters tired to kill the Breadabeast. None were successful. The citizens of Africa had no choice. A telegram pleading for help was sent to Alfred Stoffer, Cloverdale's hunter of Wild Beasts.

Luckily Alfred had his Action Ranger Pop Gun in the car. The constant popping of the caps on their way into town made his mother very angry. She confiscated the annoyance and pushed it under her seat. In no time Alfred fished it out, loaded it with fresh caps and was out the door of the tan safari Jeep. He stepped over deadly man eating Venus Fly Traps. He shot two ferocious ten foot long crocodiles swimming in the gutter - oops I meant to say Congo. “Take that!” he shouted as the pop gun blasted flames and lead into their scaly gray green skin. “Got ya,” he said proudly as he placed the Action Ranger back into its vinyl holster. A moment later his excellent hearing picked up the roar of a distant lion. A flutter of wings overhead brought out his gun by instinct. One could never be too careful. This jungle was known to have buzzards the size of a tractor pulling hay.

He heard a new sound coming toward him. He quietly backed up and crouched down beside a boulder. He peered around a Firestone white walled tire on his family’s Pontiac. It was a wild female guerrilla and her baby. He thought for a moment and decided to spare them. He liked Mrs. Larkin, and who would fix Mr. Larkin’s dinner if she were gone? Besides, there was no way he could orphan two year old Lawrence, even though he never stopped crying in church.

Alfred waited until the coast was clear and made his move. He jumped over a river full of flesh eating piraña, crossed the sidewalk and stood motionless with his back against the brick wall of T. Cooks Confectioners. He crouched down, shuffled his way under the window and slowly stood. He was just tall enough to see into the shop.

There she was! It was the Brendabeast. She was hovering over a small man. It looked like he was a goner for sure. He was offering her something in a box. “A gift to spare his life,” Alfred mumbled under his breath. She turned her head toward the window. Alfred crouched back down and shuffled to the shop’s door. He stood. This was his spot. He would take the Brendabeast right here. She’d never know what hit her.

He waited. His heart pounded in his chest. Adrenaline flowed through his veins. His finger twitched on the trigger of his Action Ranger. A moment later he heard the door open beside him. A little bell announced the customer’s departure. Alfred raised his gun. He saw its leg, a second later the entire beast became visible. It was now or never.

“POW POW POW!” Alfred shouted at the top of his lungs while firing every cap on the role wound in his pop gun’s chamber. Brenda Stoffer screamed and dropped the box of chocolates she had just purchased for her mother’s birthday. The variety mix of dark and milk chocolates spilled onto the sidewalk. Everyone within a one block radius of T. Cooks’ Confectioners heard the scream and stopped - wondering what had happened.

“ALFRED!” Mrs. Stoffer shouted. She looked at Alfred with the look mother’s give their children before spanking the misbehavior out of them. “Pick up the chocolates and get into the car!” she said in a calmer voice. Alfred did as he was told. He realized the seriousness of what he had done. He knew the rest of his day would be one for memory. He never saw his Action Ranger Pop Gun again. He spent the rest of his day in his room. She paroled him long enough for meals and sent him right back when he finished. Seconds were not allowed.

Before bed, Alfred found his mother sitting next to father on the sofa in the living room. They were watching something on TV. He walked over, gave her a hug and sealed the apology with a kiss on the cheek. Brenda smiled for the first time sense the incident. She patted his cheek and told him he could have one cookie and then off to bed.

Alfred walked into the kitchen. “I’ve done the impossible,” he said quietly to himself as he reached up to take a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie from the cooling tray. “I didn’t kill the Brendabeast, I tamed her! Let’s see the Action Ranger beat that.” He skipped back to his room and closed the door. Alfred knew tomorrow would bring many new adventures for a boy with his skills and imagination.