Audiobuk Man cooed and mumbled as he caressed the black box of his subwoofer. The strange, stubby, grimy boy was curled around the speaker in his bed, in a RadioShack where he had stolen every single speaker they had in stock. He adored his subwoofer more than a chef loved cooking, and he listened to his Audiobook for more than 32 hours a day. Only when he was going to sleep did he turn off his blessed Audiobook. Today, Audiobuk Man had listened to the entire Harry Potter book franchise. Audiobuk Man’s blue veined eyelids fluttered as he fell asleep, still rubbing the subwoofer.
It was morning. Audiobuk Man was curled up on the floor of the RadioShack, sucking his thumb like a toddler. He snoozed away soundly. Suddenly, Audiobuk Man startled awake, gasping, and pupils flying around like a madman, drool stains all over the floor. WHERE WAS HIS BELOVED SUBWOOFER?
He had fallen asleep with it, and now it was nowhere in sight! Audiobuk Man wailed, crying to the heavens as if begging for his subwoofer, his clawed hands clenched. Hot springs of angry tears burst from Audiobuk Man’s eyes. “To the man who has stolen subwoofer, YOU WILL BE CURSED FOR ETERNITY!”
Maleb Caddix and his father, Madt, zoomed down the i-75 on their newest pillaged private transport, a Tesla Model Z, Ekron Muck’s new top of the line electric car. Maleb was a tiny child, aged 11, with a blonde mohawk, and one of the largest foreheads ever in existence. Maleb had been in multiple incriminating crime scenes and loved money more than his own life. Madt was his father, a huge, bald pillar of muscle that stood in the way of anything that caused harm to Maleb.
Madt, the driver, swerved in and out of traffic like a maniac, as the cop sirens got closer. Huge bags of cash were stuffed into the trunk of the Tesla, and dollar bills streamed out of the open windows from the sheer speed of the car.
Maleb cradled his stolen new subwoofer, as soundwaves burst from the speaker and rumbled his brain liquid like water. Maleb was listening to a Krap, Korean Rap. The bass alone was enough to shatter glass.
“Hey dad!” Maleb’s screechy voice yelled over the wind in his ears. “You know what I’ll name my kids? Cash and Monḗy!”
Madt rolled his eyes, sighing at Maleb’s statement. He wished his son could be a normal kid, go to public school, complain about bad grades, weep at good grades, watch TV, play video games, but no. Maleb just had to be the wildest, money loving child on the planet.
As the cop sirens dwindled down behind the Tesla, Madt veered off onto the nearest exit, causing several cars to swerve out of the way of Madt’s aggressive driving. They would lie low for a while, maybe buy a couple penthouses, mansions, and then spring up another crime spree when the mortgage payments broke the bank
Maleb recalled last night, as he had snuck into Radio Shack and spotted a strange man sleeping on the floor, curled with a huge, rugged subwoofer. Maleb wanted it immediately. Little did the parent-child duo knew, Audiobuk Man would have his revenge.