You tell Annabelle to stay in the living room and hand her a decrepit flower lamp, instructing her to hit anyone she sees. You sprint through the precarious corridor and duck under the low door frame to find a person lying on the floor, apparently unconscious. You take a second to inspect the appearance of the person. He was wearing a red vest and blue shorts, along with a pair of sandals. Under his straw hat was some messy black hair. He had a scar underneath his eye, which made you ponder how he got it. The second thing you notice is that he looks fairly attractive, but you shake that thought out of your head. Attractive or not, he broke into your house and knocked himself unconscious in the process. Plus, he had to be an idiot to break into your house, as your house only looked like a garbage dump on the outside. As you were thinking about what to do, the weird intruder started to stir. As a personal instinct, you grabbed a pan sitting on the table next to you and hit the boy hard in the head. The noise of your pan and the boy's head meeting echoed around the whole house. Annabelle ran in a second later and looked at you.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh good you're okay. I thought someone knocked you out."
She spotted the again unconscious intruder on the floor.
"Wow, nice hit."
You both stared at the boy.
Annabelle was the first to speak.
"Who's he?"
"Don't know. But he's the one who broke into the house."
Annabelle looked at the smashed window.
"Was he seriously dumb enough to raid our house?"
"I was thinking the same thing." you sighed.
A few minutes of silence passed.
"What should we do with him?" Annabelle asked.
You considered it for a minute. You didn't even know who this was, but probably not a good person. You were about to open your mouth to speak when someone jumped through the window.
"I HAVE 8000 MEN UNDER MY COMMAND AND IF YOU MOVE AN INCH THEY WILL ALL SHOOT THIS HOUSE DOWN!"
That sentence was followed by an extended period of silence.
You both look at the person who burst through the window just then.
It was a teenage boy with black curly hair, prominent lips and a long nose. Like, not average long. Long long. Long long long. Not that long, but still very long. He is holding a slingshot and aiming it at us, with a bag slung over his shoulder.
"There aren't even 8000 people on the island!"
You gape at Annabelle. She is never this brave, but probably someone threatening to shoot the house down struck a nerve in her.
The boy opened his mouth as if to respond, but then he was interrupted by another voice.
"What's going on?"
Oh boy. This will never end.
