𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 || 𝖣𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖬𝗈𝗆𝗌

Live From LA, It's Kendall K

"I think you have to kill him."

In response to the surprising words that left his partner's mouth, the cowboy looked at her, his face not attempting to conceal his reaction. The cowgirl shrugged, poking her lip out as she did so. Then, she glanced at the boy one last time before turning to face the horizon ahead of them.

"If we don't kill him, he's going to kill us–someone's going to end up dead, and I'm not about to die or bury you in the middle of nowhere." She repeated, narrowing her eyes as she tried not to look directly at the glaring sun.

"Then what's the plan, chief?" He spoke, turning to face the dune on the horizon, just as his partner had been doing.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." The cowgirl admitted, sighing as she took off her pink cowboy hat. "I think we'll have to catch him when he least expects it."

The cowboy could feel sweat rolling down his face as the cloth of his white western shirt stuck to his body. Mimicking the girl's previous action, he grabbed his cowboy hat from the top of his head, but instead of simply holding it as she was doing, he started fanning himself with it.

"When do you think he won't be expecting us?"

She opened her mouth to answer, her tongue clicking while doing so, but with no reply to give, the cowgirl closed her mouth again. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she continued to stare off into the distance, feeling as one of her pink cowboy boots sunk deeper into the sand they currently stood on. The girl ignored how every inch of fabric stuck onto her skin, making her feel slightly uncomfortable as she found herself staring at a path she was unaware of whether she should walk down. Her fingers held onto the pink cowboy hat, keeping it narrowly above the ground as it threatened to interact with the granular material that conformed to the ground. Acting as a lightbulb going off, her right arm quickly swung above her head, placing the hat on top of her blonde hair before her head turned in her partner's direction.

"I think right now."

The boy looked at her. "Right now?"

She smiled. "Yeah!"

"But why right now?"

"I just feel like it."

"You feel like it?"

"Hanks, do you want to stand here all day and burn to death, or do you want to keep going?"

"And die over there? Really, Cusack?"

Groaning, Cowgirl Cusack started to walk away, trying to control herself as she walked down the dune she currently stood on. As he watched his partner try not to roll down to the bottom, Cowboy Hanks sighed before looking over his shoulder, his green eyes looking directly into the camera behind them all along.

"I firmly believe we're both about to die!" He cheerily exclaimed.

He then proceeded to turn around, and after spotting Cowgirl Cusack walking in the middle of nowhere, he jumped after her.

The screen went black, and four heads turned toward a single person, and eight eyes stared at them. Taking it as their cue, the person stood up from their makeshift director's chair — a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse-themed chair with a sheet of paper taped onto it that read "Director" messily handwritten with a blue crayon — and walked up to the laptop, where they then turned around to face the crowd.

"So," Six-year-old Giselle smiled. "What do you think?"

The crowd in question was four people sitting on the large brown leather couch situated in the living room. If it had been as big of a conversation topic back then, it could have been considered a nepotism meeting, as all four people were blood-related to the aspiring director. To the farthest right side of the couch, the director's father formulated an answer, wondering how not to sound, well, fatherly.