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Ersatz (Part 2)
🕑 Added 2023-03-12 12:56:26 +0000 UTCTyler
Some people had quiet minds. They could open their eyes, take deep breaths, and think of nothing unless prompted to. It was pleasant. They were at peace.
Tyler wasnât one of those people. Always thinking. Always analyzing. Always wondering and playing things over again and again. Always searching for that next bit of mental stimulation; that next hit of dopamine. To get to sleep each night, Tyler laid his head down next to Christy and would tell himself an elaborate fantasy until his body gave in and the thoughts dissolved into an unrelated dream state.
The only time Tyler wasnât thinking were the rare times he was overwhelmed with emotion. Tyler totally felt emotion, he wasnât a robot, and when he could talk for hours about any given subject, often quite animatedly. Itâs just that the intensity of the emotion rarely outweighed the words constantly swirling around in his head.
The world was never silent to Tyler. The words never went away. They could only be drowned out by the most intense of emotions: Blistering anger or despair. The most absurd and happiest of laughter. That precious second or two during orgasm.
Right now, the words in Tylerâs head were on full blast. He, his wife, and their two best friends were in the middle of an idyllic American style suburb with fresh cut lawns, and nice clean sidewalks.
This would be pleasant if not exciting except for the following facts: Tyler had no idea how theyâd gotten there. They had been about to walk into a lonely motel room in the middle of the night when an atomic bomb level of light consumed them. Now they were here. That and everything was gigantic.
The houses were a minimum of two stories tall, as were the doors. Cars in driveways looked to be as tall as monster trucks and much bigger. Mailboxes were practical flagpoles. Bushes were trees and trees were redwoods. They could each lay on the sidewalk width wise and not touch the road as long as nobody stretched their arms out past their heads.
Displaced in time, space, and scale. Instantly Tylerâs mind raced to a dozen different fantastical references. A land of giants? Shrink ray? Another planet or plane of existence? Had they died and this was heaven? There was no rational explanation, so Tylerâs brain started considering irrational ones.
âHelp!â Christy screamed. âIâŚI peed!â
The sound of his wifeâs screams caused Tyler to snap his head around. âYou..wh..?â He stopped short of asking for clarification when his eyes settled on her. His blushing bride, his highschool sweetheart, stood stranded on the sidewalk. Her bright rainbow colored tie dye shirt stood in contrast to the trail darkening her blue jeans and making a puddle beneath her sneakers.
Christy had always had the bladder of a pea. When they were dating, Tyler would jokingly consider it a miracle when she sat through an entire movie without a bathroom break. Jokes about diapers abounded in the early days before Christy made it clear they were hurting her feelings.
Presently, that old joke seemed extremely apropos. It just wasnât funny anymore. The shock of everything had jostled something loose and left her looking like a three year old out of Pull-Ups too soon. She wasnât crying yet, but her face was twisting every which way and her breathing was becoming more ragged.
Adrenaline pumping, Tyler shoved any emotions he might have been feeling to the side. There was a problem to solve. Several actually, but this one was the most immediate and the most solvable. He walked forward and took her hand.
âCome on,â he said gently. âCome here, hon. Come in the grass.â He led her off the sidewalk and into the front lawn. âDeep breath, Christy. Deep breath. Itâs okay.â His head started swiveling, looking for outs and places of retreat.
Christy was shaking. Trying to retain and regain composure. He wanted to make this better. Had to make this better. He kept looking around. Had their suitcases come with them? Initial scans said no. No extra clothes. No privacy.
Try the front door? No. Jack never wanted to meet the giant for a reason. He opened his arms to give her a hug, but Christy held her palms out in front of her chest. She did not want to be touched.
Damn. What else could he do?
âTyler,â Britney said. âYour shirt.â
Something clicked. He stripped his shirt off. It was loose and baggy, just how he liked it. Tylerâs lizard brain noted the gut he was starting to develop, but that was so low on the hierarchy of needs that it didnât move the needle. All the words in his head were busy analyzing Christy and the strange environs theyâd been transported to.
âDo you want me to tie it around, or do you want to?â Tyler asked.
Christy sniffled, and reached out. âGive please.â Okay. She could talk without her voice cracking. That made Tylerâs heart rate lower ever so slightly. Christy took the shirt and wrapped it around her skinny waist, tying the sleeves behind her back like an apron.
The makeshift flap covered her front. It didnât completely obscure the damage past the knees, but it was a start.
âDrew?â Tyler called behind him. âLittle help?â
âYeah, bro.â Drew said. He was taking his shirt off and handing it over to Christy a second later.
Drewâs shirt was smaller than Tylerâs but it stretched enough to allow Christy to repeat the process. âThanks.â she said.
The guys gave a neutral, âWelcome,â and Tyler started scanning the periphery.
âItâs like that field trip all over again,â Brittney joked.
That made the sob Christy was about to elicit turn into a sob.. âYeah. Kind of.â Long story short, Brittneyâs first period had come at a most inopportune time. That bit of nostalgia softened the humiliation Christy was currently experiencing. âWhat now?â
Tylerâs brain went into overdrive. âThe lights in the house look off,â he said. âBut the garage door is open. No car, though. Those bushes,â he pointed to some big leafy ferns. âCome on.â He jogged over and waved his friends towards him to follow. The others followed him, seeming less sure.
He crouched down and the others followed his lead.
âWhat are we doing?â Brittney asked. âWhatâs going on?â
Tyler just decided to remove the filter from his brain. âWe donât know where we are, how we got here, whether weâre small or everything is big, what time it is or anything. We are suffering from a critical lack of information. We have to treat this like the wild or a foreign country or an alien planet or whatever.â
âWe should be getting help,â Christy argued. âTry to talk to people.â He was glad she was less shellshocked, but Tyler couldnât believe how naive she was being. Behind closed doors they argued fairly often, but now was not the time.
Drew made the counterargument for Tyler. âI donât think I want to talk to anybody big enough to live in these houses.â
âGood point,â Christy said, lowering her head.
Britney got a look of inspiration and started digging around in her pants pocket. âPhones!â
Oh yeah! All four pulled their phones out and stared. âNo signalâŚâ Tyler said, his stare intense. This was not a good development.
âMe neither.â Drew said. That was worse.
âSameâ Christy reported. And worseâŚ
âFuck,â Brittney cursed. Yup. They were fucked alright.
Their communication devices and portal windows to the world were just paperweights. Another absurdity jumped into Tylerâs brain. âWhat if weâre back in time?â
âThen why are we tiny?â Christy asked.
âI donât know!â Tyler snapped. âI donât know how time travel works, do you?!â
âJesus,â Christy said. âI was just askingâŚâ
A terrible impulse to snap back and bring up the state of her pants welled up in Tylerâs mind, but he pushed that aside. One thing at a time.
âI donât think itâs time travel,â Drew said calmly. He stood up and pointed over the bushes. âThatâs a Honda Fit in that driveway across the street.â
Okay. Fair. The surroundings seemed kind of DisneyLand fake, but it wasnât exactly leave it to beaver 1950âs. Whatever that light was must have just shorted their phones out. Or⌠âIndependence dayâŚâ Tyler blurted out. âItâs the plot hole from Independence Day.â
Brittney and Drew looked confused. âWhat?â
Crap. Heâd done it again. His brain had leapt too far ahead in too many metaphors. What Tyler had meant to say was how his brain went to the plot hole in Independence Day regarding technology. Intergalactic traveling aliens shouldnât need to use human communication satellites. Nor should their software be vulnerable to an earth made computer virus, likely written in a completely different code.
âI think he means maybe weâre some place that doesnât use the same networks and technologyâŚâ Christy was extremely fluent in Tyler. That and heâd the Independence Day talk with her at least once a year when his obsessions circled round to sci-fi tech and film loopholes. She understood the shorthand.
âYes.â Tyler said. âThat.â
âWell we canât get any more information. And we canât hide behind some bush for long.â
They didnât have that opportunity. âShh,â Drew hissed. âI hear a car.â
The quartet ducked down and put their hands over their heads as if bracing for a tornado. In the stillness of the front lawn, the sound of the carâs engine and the rolling of the wheels gently crunching over flecks of loose asphalt on the road was easy to hear from even far away. So was the light screeching of old breaks that needed replacing.
It should have been a quick moment. Duck down, hold breath, wait for the noise to increase and subside in a few seconds. Then exhale.. It wasnât quick. An engine revved. Wheels turned. Brakes squeaked. An engine idled. Then revved again. Rev, wheels, brakes, idle, rev, wheels, brakes, idle, rev. Each iteration got a little louder, a little closer.
âWhatâs taking so long?â Brittney whispered.
âI donât know.,â Drew said.
âItâs like theyâre looking for someone,â Christy added.
Terrible imagery took root in Tylerâs mind. Patrols and searches for invaders. Aliens. Little green and gray men. Government labs. Men in lab coats poking and prodigy the aliens with crude implements as if they were lab rats. Living dissection and autopsy. For Tyler though, it was him and his friends on that operating table.
The words were being drowned out by fear. His mouth went dry. He heard his pulse in his ears. He was biting down on his tongue just for the extra sensory input that the pain brought; that extra little bit of control. He dug his fingernails into his knees, scratching and tensing, ready to pounce.
An engine revved.
Wheels turned and asphalt crunched.
Breaks squeaked.
The vehicle idled right by the mailbox. Mailbox! Something finally made sense.
âWell hello there!â a chipper sounding voice said.
The quartet looked up at the sky. A giant towered over them, smiling brightly. She was a black woman with short hair and a light blue shirt and navy blue shorts. Her breast pocket had the emblem of an envelope on it. A postal worker of some sort. The white mail truck with an identical logo directly behind her confirmed. Other than her size, and the fact that Tyler didnât recognize the logo, the only thing else that stood out was the yellow satchel bag that hung from her shoulder.
âUmâŚhelloâŚ?â Brittney spoke up. âHow are youâŚ?â
Fuck! Why was Brittney talking! They should be running! Dashing! Attacking! Something? Didnât they pay attention to any of the movies or comics Tyler was constantly talking about? At best they should be trying to make contact with some good hearted twelve year old like in E.T.
âAre yâall playing hide and seek?â The giant asked. âOr are you lost? You look lost.â
âWeâre kind of lostâŚâ Brittney said. Tylerâs mouth remained dry. His jaw stayed clenched and his muscles tensed even more. There was something predatory in the big womanâs expression.
âAwwww,â The post lady said. âIâm so sorry to hear that, honey. Itâs no fun to be lost, is it?â Her words were laced with condescension masked as sincerity. âCan I help?â
âWhere are we?â Drew asked.
The massive mail carrier wagged her finger. âAh ah. Didnât yâalls Mommies and Daddies teach you any manners? Stand up straight. Look me in the eyes.â
They all stood up. Tyler was the last to stand, instinctively turning himself sideways so that he could bolt. This was a trap. It felt like a trap. His friends were responding way too well to it.
âSorry,â Drew stammered a bit. âItâs been a hell of a-â
âLanguage!â The woman cut him off sharply. âGood little boys donât use those kinds of words.â
Drewâs face hardened instantly. âExcuse me?â
The postal worker ignored him and her head regarded Christy. âOh my! Did someone have an accident?â Christy turned so red she looked like she was sunburned. Her eyes went wide and she got a deer in the headlights looks. âIs it pee pee or poopy, honey?â No one replied. âAwww, donât know? Thatâs very common at your age. Nothing to be ashamed ofâ
âOurâŚage?â Brittney repeated, dumbfounded. âHow old do you think we-?â
Through the fear, the words in Tylerâs brain pierced through. Something was going on. This was a set up. A trap. This woman wasnât a woman. She was a snake getting ready to strike, and they were four terrified little mice. Tyler eyed the bag on her shoulder the way a cowboy might eye a holster.
Heâd known of letter carriers to have bags full of letters, but not usually the ones in mail trucks. Bags were for foot routes. The bag wasnât the same navy blue as the post womanâs shorts; not in the same dress code or uniform. Army people had camouflage backpacks; and mailmen had navy blue letter bags.
This bag with its soft yellow fabric, like a baby chickenâs feathers, was adorned with pastel pictures of dancing teddy bears. It looked full to the point of bulging, but Tyler had a distinct feeling that it wasnât filled with letters.
âAnd it doesnât look like any of you are dressed properly. Did your Mommies forget this morning?â She leaned over the bush, finger crooked like a fang and aiming for the back of Tylerâs shorts. âHold still. Let me check.â
He smacked her hand away as hard as he could. âDONâT! FUCKING! TOUCH! ME!â He roared. The others looked to him, shocked at his intensity. This is what happened to Tyler when the words got drowned out by emotion. Either everything that came out of him was very very quiet, or very very loud.
The woman stood up straight, and zipped open the yellow bag. Tylerâs eyes took in the sight of folded up white rectangles packed tightly together and his brain fired up memories of preschool and before; of Christyâs stepmom prepping for an outing with her half-sister so that the two teenagers could make out on the couch in privacy. âAlright,â the giant said. âWe can play it that way.â
The giant pounced at them over the bush, a lioness tackling a gazelle. Tylerâs feet took off before her feet had left the ground, but flat feet and being less than a natural athlete counted against him. A hand clamped around Tylerâs ankle and yanked his feet out from under him.
Tyler fell forward, the soft grass cushioning the blow, but not by much. Behind him the giant was on her belly with a hand locked around his ankle, and a mixture of rage and sadistic glee in her eyes. Ahead of him were his friends dashing away.across the yard and to the side off towards another lawn.
âGotcha!â The giant said, smiling malevolently âCome here.â The ground beneath Tyler scraped against him hard enough to leave pink rash marks. He felt the giantâs other hand come down between his shoulder blades, pinning him to the ground.
âHEL-!â
The other hand released his ankle only to thunder down on his backside. Words came to an end, replaced by pain and panic with two or three swats raining down on him. A weak, pathetic scream issued forth from Tylerâs mouth. It hurt so much! It was like heâd been tased or something. How could a spanking hurt this much?
The sky came into view as Tyler was flipped over onto his back. The mail ladyâs hand let up off his back just long enough to pin him down by his chest instead of his back. Without thinking, Tyler tried to sit up, but was held firm. Mjonir was on his chest.
The giant used her free hand to peel off Tylerâs shoes. âNo, no, no!â Tyler yelled. He wasnât thinking, but that didnât mean he couldnât talk. Tyler could always talk. Even in his sleep.
The giant grabbed his ankle again and pushed his hips up over his head. The hand on his chest released just long enough to deliver a few more blows that knocked the wind out of him.
âNo, no, no, no!â Tyler mouthed the words, but his throat and vocal chords werenât cooperating. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled forth from the agony. The two monstrous hands grabbed the loose waistband of his shorts and underwear in one go then roughly yanked them down his legs and tossed them into the grass.
Naked save for his socks, Tyler cried out. âStop!â He begged. âPlease!â
His words fell on deaf ears. On her knees the giant mail carrier dropped the yellow bag onto grass and yanked out what was unmistakably a diaper. Tylerâs knees were pinned up against his chest, keeping him immobile and helpless to do anything but watch as she flapped the diaper open.
A light breeze blew across his ass while the diaper was slid underneath him. His hips came down on impossibly thick padding. He was in a sunny suburb while a giant was trying to put a humongous diaper on him. It should be silly, but Tyler had never been more afraid in his life. It made no sense. Tylerâs entire brain was seeing a blue screen of death.
Through the haze of disbelief and terror, Tyler wished that he needed to pee, just squirt something into this bitchâs face.
Fast hands pulled the diaper up over his privates, and quickly adjusted the front before reaching for the tapes in the back. Fatigued from a day of travel, crying, and worn out from the first ass whooping he could remember receiving, Tyler could only lay there while two tapes were pulled snugly over the front of the diaper, sealing him into his plastic backed prison.
Plastic backed? Something like that didnât sit right with him.
âThere,â the giant dusted her hands together. She leaned over him so that her head was directly over his. âI bet that feels so much-YAAAAAAAAH!â
The giant flailed reeled back and clutched the side of her face. Two hands, two human size hands, grabbed Tylers and pulled him up to a standing position. Drew and Britney were there with him. Theyâd come back for him!
Blood seeped out from between the giantâs fingers while she continued to scream in shock. Christy scrambled to her feet from her back. Sheâd been knocked down when the mail lady started screaming. She spit blood on the grass and wiped her mouth. The blood wasnât Christyâs.
Quiet and frail until she wasnât. God Tyler loved this wife.
âCome on!â Drew barked at him. âRun!â
Tylerâs legs took over for his brain and started sprinting as fast as he could. Drew was right behind him, literally pushing him along. It was hard to run like this. The giant diaper forced his legs apart unnaturally. It was like running with a pillow between his thighs, and his feet flopped and flapped on the grass, lacking all form or technique as well as the protective sole of tennis shoes.
âGarage!â Brittney yelled. âGo!â
In no position to argue, Tylerâs body did as instructed, his socks pounding on the paved driveway.
âStop!â the giant called out after them.
Tyler tried to look back, but Drew yelled, âGo! Go! Go!â pushing him forward.
The intense heat of the sun lessened into a cool shade while the group ran into the artificial cave. âTrapped!â Tyler panted. He ran to the far side of the garage and peered out. The giant was up and picking her bag back up. âWe gotta run!â His voice was ragged and cracking, but the acoustics of the garage carried his message all the same.
Deep in the very back of the garage a set of steps led up to a door. The steps were scaled up like everything else in this mad place, and had a wooden handrail next to them that could have doubled as a balance beam.
âThere!â Christy pointed. Right by the door was what looked to be a hard plastic rectangle, mounted into the wall. âGarage door button!â It was true. They had one that looked just like it back at home.
Drew tapped Tylerâs bicep lightly with the back of his hand. âGive me a boost.â The men ran to the base of the stairs. They were steep, but not so steep as to be unclimbable. They just didnât have that kind of time.
Tyler turned around and steadied his hands on his knees. That gave him a good enough view to see a bloodied and very angry giant started to march slowly towards the garage with murder in her eyes. âHurry!â
He felt Drewâs shoe land on his back and groaned in discomfort when his buddy jumped up off his back to climb onto the wooden handrail. The pain of getting old and doing stupid shit would be nothing compared to a second round of behemoth spankings.
âGot it!â Drew punched the black rectangle. The garage door roared closed with stunning alacrity; the motorized mechanism speeding it down to a slam instead of the usual steady slow grind. It was a good thing too because the giant who had diapered Tyler couldnât have been more than teen feet from the threshold.
The four stayed where they were. Once more everyone was holding their breath. Grunting. The doors shook and jostled lightly, but otherwise did not move. Pounding thuds reverberated on the other side.
âYou little brats!â The mail woman howled on the other side. âOpen up!â
A bit of tension left the four. No one thought they were safe, but the most immediate danger was barred.
Drew plopped down, swung his legs out over the side of the handrail, and dropped to the uppermost step. He could just barely reach the doorknob. âI donât think itâs locked.â A twist of the wrist proved his correction to be true.
âLetâs go,â Tyler said, as if anyone needed to be ordered.
The other three caught up to Drew by crawling up the stairs, one by one. Tyler was still huffing and puffing from the exertion. His body was sore and tired, and adrenaline only took him so far. âYou okay, babe?â Christy asked.
Not really. None of them were okay. Tyler breathily replied âYeahâ anyways.
They crossed the threshold into the house proper. Christy and Brittney slammed the heavy door behind them and Drew and Tyler looked around. âLaundry room,â Tyler said. Not exactly a Sherlock Holmes level deduction, either. To their right were a washer and dryer. To their left was an empty laundry basket. The appliances were big enough to climb into, and any one of them could have hid in the basket simply by curling up at the bottom and piling some clothes on.
âWhat the fuck was that?â Drew asked the group.
âYeah. Why was she talking to us like we were babies or something?â Brittney wondered aloud.
âWhy are the diapers still plastic?â Tyler said.
For the second time his companions stared at him with a total lack of comprehension. Drew and Brittney turned their heads to Christy. âNo idea,â she said.
His brain had done the thing again. âLook at this,â he pointed to the thing wrapped around his waist. âIt looks like something we might have worn when we were babies.â
That was accurate enough. The monstrosity was bulky and crinkled everytime Tyler so much as fidgeted. It was plain white, save for just beneath the waistband where the tapes were secured. Along the diaperâs landing zone were pictures of green, blue, and pink monkeys tumbling and cuddling with bananas in a repeating pattern. The monkeys themselves looked to be wearing diapers too. The aesthetic was straight out of the late eighties and early nineties before every diaper had some well known cartoon character or another on them.
âTrue,â Christy agreed. âWhen my little sister was in diapers, they were more like cloth and had velcro for tapes.â
âSo?â Brittney asked. âWhy does that matter? A diaperâs a diaper.â
âDrew said he saw a Honda Fit,â Tyler explained. âModern car. Why would there be modern style cars but retro style diapers? Also, isnât it weird that a mail lady was just carrying around a big olâ diaper bag? Who does that?â
All the talk of diapers made Christy look extremely uncomfortable. No big surprise, considering she was still in wet pants. âWho cares,â she said. âJust take it off.â
Tyler felt heat rise up in his cheeks. âBut then Iâll be naked.â
âWe kind of already saw everything,â Brittney softly admitted. She looked away. âSorry.â
âWould you rather be in a diaper?â
âOh yeah,â Tyler realized. âPoint taken.â
Theyâd find clothes later. Tyler grabbed the tapes at his waist and tugged. They didnât budge. He tried again and got nothing for his effort. He shifted so that his hand was on one tape and his other was on the waistband for leverage. The tapes might as well have been welded on. âItâs too sticky.â he said. âChristy? A little help?â
Christy reached down, tried her luck, and found none. âTheyâre not budging.â
A dark thought burst forward from Tylerâs mouth. âMaybe this is why theyâre plastic.â
Drew had no luck helping. Neither did Brittney. âCan you pull them down like underwear?â She suggested.
âWaistbandâs too snug,â Tyler reported, frustration building up. âItâs like a goddamn finger puzzle. Pulling down just makes it tighter. Fuck it.â he said. âI guess Iâm just in a diaper for now.â
BING-BONG!
The chime of a doorbell made the four of them jump. A pounding thud against wood and the sounds of a woman shouting demands. The giant who had put this thing on him had found the front door.
âLetâs keep going,â Brittney said, taking charge as she tended to. âWe need to find a back door, or a phone, or a computer, or some clothes for Christy and Tyler.â
âOr scissors to cut this thing off,â Tyler interjected, pointing to the diaper.
âYeah or that. Weâre not going to find any of that here. That lady might be crazy, but other than size-â
âAnd diapers,â Tyler interjected again. Details like this might matter when it came to getting home.
âOther than that,â Brittney said, a bit annoyed, âThings seem to be normal. Letâs look around.â
They all walked out of the laundry room into a kitchen that might as well have been a ballroom.
BING-BONG! BING-BONG! BING-BONG!
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
âWe need to hurry.â Christy said, nervously. âGotta find something.â
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
âIf sheâs knocking, it means sheâs not in,â Tyler said.
âDoesnât mean sheâs wrong,â Brittney reminded him.
âFair.â Tyler turned around slowly in a circle. âWhich drawer do you think has the knives?â It would be good to have a weapon. A steak knife could feel like a short sword at this scale. The drawers were just above eye level. He walked over to the nearest one, waddling slightly because of how the diaper forced him to move, and pulled on it.
It gave more than the tapes had, but not by much. Beside the drawer handle, there was an inlaid circle with a grip inside it going straight up and down. Tyler could just make out the shine of a metal flap sticking up; a latch preventing the drawer from being opened.
BING-BONG!
Tyler reached in and tried to rotate the grip, but it was just as stuck as the sticky tabs keeping him in baby underwear. âThis drawer wonât open.â
THUD-THUD-THUD!
âThis one wonât either.â Brittney said.
BING-BONG!
âDid you try the latch?â Christy suggested.
BING-BONG!
âYup,â Drew called back. âItâs not working.â
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
âLetâs keep moving,â Brittney suggested. âThereâs got to be something we can use.â
THUD-THUD-THUD! BING-BONG!
The moment they crossed that threshold out of the kitchen and into the next room a thousand words sprung back into Tylerâs brain; all of them roughly expressing the same notion of regret in different metaphors and degrees.
Out from the kitchen was what could generously be described as a living room. It had soft brown carpet, a worn looking but clean couch and a television. It also had foam floor tiles laid out in front of said television with alphabet letters and shapes on them. Right next to the tiles was an infantâs floor gym with a frame that could have been used for a tent.
In the corner to the right of the couch was a walker big enough to fit any of them. To the left was an archway but barring their way forward was a baby mesh gate that someone would need parkour training to get over by themselves.
The wall to their right had filing cabinet sized toy bins The wall to their left had a changing table they would have needed a ladder to reach the top; its lower shelves stacked full with diapers and wipes.
Tyler stepped further in. When he turned around, he saw the four gigantic highchairs placed up against the wall closest to the kitchen. âWe need to get out of here!â
âWaitâŚâ Brittney said. âListen.â
They collectively paused and held their breath. âI donât hear anyâŚâ Tylerâs eyes lit up in recognition. âOh god sheâs stopped knocking!â
âMaybe that means sheâs gone awayâŚâ Christy said hopefully.
The roaring mechanical sound of a garage door opening up suggested otherwise.
Comments
"We will see", he said cryptically.
nottheking
Looks like theyâve been expected, judging by the ladyâs response time to their exact location plus the number of high chairs. Gee-golly whiz, howâre they ever gonna get outta this one? Looks like this might be a lengthy story.
I choose to neither confirm nor deny anything...
babysofia1234
This seems to have been a one-way trip to a certain dimension... I'm guessing their exit is childproofed out too based on the baby gear. If there's already four high chairs they may be joining a big family!
