Attack of the Tagger
“It was a little neighborhood park with two swings, a tube slide, a giant tic-tac-toe game, and a big ship with about ten steering wheels.
And now it also had a whole family of dumb-baby faces. They were sprayed on a tall fence that was between the park and some houses.
The police had some big floodlights lighting up the night. And all those dumb-baby faces looked kind of creepy. The paint went from one to the other to the other. It looked like a string of big purple ghosts with buckteeth!
“What... a moron,” one of the policemen was saying. He was shaking his head good. “What’s the deal with the ‘du-uh’? Is he saying he’s dumb?”
Dad shook his head, too. “I think he’s saying he thinks whatever he’s spraying is dumb.”
The policeman snorted. “Well, he’s sure got that backward.”
Another policeman came over and shook hands with my dad. “Glad you could make it, Steven.”
“Thanks for the call.” Dad pulled me in by the shoulder and said, “This is my son, Nolan.MoreLess
And now it also had a whole family of dumb-baby faces. They were sprayed on a tall fence that was between the park and some houses.
The police had some big floodlights lighting up the night. And all those dumb-baby faces looked kind of creepy. The paint went from one to the other to the other. It looked like a string of big purple ghosts with buckteeth!
“What... a moron,” one of the policemen was saying. He was shaking his head good. “What’s the deal with the ‘du-uh’? Is he saying he’s dumb?”
Dad shook his head, too. “I think he’s saying he thinks whatever he’s spraying is dumb.”
The policeman snorted. “Well, he’s sure got that backward.”
Another policeman came over and shook hands with my dad. “Glad you could make it, Steven.”
“Thanks for the call.” Dad pulled me in by the shoulder and said, “This is my son, Nolan.MoreLess
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