This was written as a quick manuscript for school. The objective was to simply introduce the character and genre- and follow a commandment. The commandment was-
‘Breaking into a car’ (I know… odd.)
The ending of this is a bit rushed due to not only my time running out- but we were also limited to only two, double-spaced pages.
I hope you enjoy this!
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” I mutter, noticing a strange white mark on the back of my car. It was the remnants of a sticker that had been incorrectly torn off, leaving behind its sticky underbelly in a most unflattering manner. It was a silly little Mickey Mouse car sticker that I got on my third trip to Disney a few months ago; it didn’t bother me too much that it had been taken, but I still wanted to know why. I suppose living in Florida has its downsides; maybe people are just sick of seeing Disney? Or… maybe they can’t get enough of it.
Peering to my right was the downright oddest thing. A tiny red Beatle car, I didn’t care to check for any form of year or make (because I simply don’t care about cars that much), but there was something particularly odd about this car. From wheel to roof, the car was destroyed with Disney stickers. For all I know it could have been a blue car, but the amount of Minnie and Mickey stickers really set a different theme.
“Well, I suppose that really narrows my options as to where my sticker went.” I state in an exhale. The more I looked at the car, the more it annoyed me. I could care less about my sticker, but it was the fact that –that- person might have taken it. Shifting my gaze left and right, I scanned the parking lot for any signs of life. Other than a mother loading her horde of children into a minivan a few rows away, I was alone… and so I approach.
Reaching out, I grasp the handle of the passenger door to the Disney-disaster of a car. Wait, what was I doing? I pondered to myself. A satisfying click is heard as the handle wasn’t frozen in a locked position. My body settles and my shoulder shrug. If she was silly enough not to lock the car, I almost didn’t feel as bad. Then again, I am sure anyone would be repelled from even getting in a ten-foot radius of the vehicle.
The car door lets out an annoying squeal as it is opened, followed by what looked like an avalanche of plastic. Stacks upon stacks of Starbucks coffee-cups, all signed with different Disney-princess names: poorly spelled of course, for I wasn’t sure who ‘Cinderooli’ or ‘Rapronzil’ were. A blast of hot pineapple stench hits my nostrils like a slap in the face as I duck into the car: The culprit? An ‘Aloha’ air freshener shaped like a surf-board hanging from the rear-view mirror, but not just one, there was certainly about ten.
My body froze, not only because of the combination of disgust and impending doom of being caught, but also because of the fact I literally could no longer move forward due to the clutter. This car truly was the outcome of putting an entire Disneyland gift shop in a singular, tight space. The worst had not come yet, alas.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Comes a very deep voice from behind me. My bets were on it being a police officer or security guard. Turning around, I would have never expected to see just whom I saw.
Standing at a height of six foot and weighing a grand-total of all 101 Dalmatians put together, was a middle-aged man. Reaching into his Buzz Lightyear utility belt, he withdraws his weapons of choice: a Mickey-Mouse fly swatter and a spray bottle of factor nine-hundred sun cream. Now was definitely the time to run. I leap out of the small vehicle and start dashing away as fast as I physically could.
All I could hear were the distant yells of PG 13 insults as I outran him in the first few seconds. He could keep the silly sticker, I don’t think I could ever look at Disney merchandise the same after all that.