He keeps running, the toothbrush not far behind him. He is filled with love for this beautiful killer toothbrush. Flabberghast makes it to the cabin. He runs in and locks the many locks on the door. He kind of wishes the toothbrush would break down the door and watch American Idol with him, but then again it had been chasing him with an axe for 6 miles. Maybe it had to tell him something? No. It couldn't. It had no mouth. The questions kept bubbling in Flabberghast's head as he clicked on the television.
