Tuesday, August 23



Roboctopus sits alone in the backyard. A thick layer of grey cloud passes slowly overhead.

It is now the third day since Roboctopus tricked Patti and Potato into stowing away on that boat to the Phillipines, and he's been bored out of his mind. He didn't make much money off of that scheme, and he's already drank it all away. Without Patti and Potato, he has no schedule, no plans. Alone, Roboctopus is little more than a handsome half-robot, half-octopus with more tentacles to twiddle than he knows what to do with. And the kids probably won't find their way back for at least another week.

Or maybe they wouldn't. This could be the time he loses them for real. Forever. They could suffocate in that wooden box he trapped them in. Or they could find their way into a sweatshop and work away their childhoods. Or they could catch Malaria or Dysentery. Who knows?

Despite how funny he thinks Dysentery is, Roboctopus doesn't know what he would do if Potato and Patti never came back.

He remembers that time they all got lost in the catacombs looking for buried treasure and Patti went crazy from no sunlight and managed to gnaw off one of Roboctopus's tentacles. It grew back, but he still has a scar from it.

"We love you Roboctopus," they had said, moments before he sealed the crate. He told them how much he loved them, too, but at the time he didn't believe it.

A tear trickles down his aluminum face.

Roboctopus takes a deep breath and quickly wipes the tear away. He decides to go to the woods and look for something to wrestle. Maybe a bear. That always takes his mind off of things.

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EPILOGUE

Roboctopus wrestled the Hell out of some bear.

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