Wing It.

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

THE GREAT GINGERBREAD HEIST

11 YEARS AGO

I tiptoe down the spiral staircase, expertly dodging the tinsel and lights rigged to make a sound when I escape for my midnight snacks.  I wear my black cat footie pajamas and my black hair is thrown up into a ponytail. I stole mama's black pencil stuff to make the lines on my face like the huge football players that my dad watches on TV. I get to the bottom of the stairs and look around. Everything is quiet and dark except for the humongous christmas tree in the corner letting out a dark light. Perfect. I reach around my back and take out the bright pink walkie talkie put against my belt.

"Black cat to minion. Do you read?" I whisper into the radio. A spy like me must have the right code if they wish to take over the world.

"I am not your minion! And i'm right behind you!" A high pitched voice comes through. I roll my eyes turn around. My partner in crime since we were in diapers, Breken Michals is standing on the bottom steps in his bright green and red dinosaur onesie with the pink walkie talkie in his hand.

"Shh! This is essential to the TMBTAFPWDP. If we can't pull off a simple midnight mission, then we can't be Kim Possible and Ron!" I whisper shout at him.

"TMBTAFPWDP? And don't you think we should go to sleep-" Breken scrunches his nose and yawns.

"The-Micha-and-Breken-Totally-Awesome-Fool-Proof-World-Domination-Plan." I face-palm. Obviously.

"But my dad said santa wouldn't give me any presents if I kept on going on missions with you. He said that's why I lost the football-"

"I said shush henchman. I am making a plan. Don't you want just a little of that sweet sweet gingerbread house?" I raise one eyebrow and grab his hands, dragging him to the kitchen, being careful on the creaking hardwood floor. I reach the fridge and silently point to a box on the top of the fridge disguised as a box of cereal. Mama and Papa thought I wouldn't notice my cocoa pebbles were gone. Fools! No one messes with my pebbles. No one.

Breken runs his hand through his hair and yawns again, nodding.

"You are going to have to get me the steppy-stool-thing so I can reach it. You are taller than me but I want to bring it down first." I whisper to him and point to the pantry where i'm sure the ladder is. Breken shuffles over to the pantry and brings out the stool. setting it up for me right in front of the fridge. I tiptoe to the stool and step onto it. I can almost see the prize! Curse my height!

"Micha! Careful!" Breken whisper shouts at me. I have started to jump up and down on the stool reaching up and grabbing at the air. I yelp as the stool tips back.

"AGHAKJHGAKLUSH!" I try to yell for Breken but no words come out just a gurgle of words, and maybe the word Papa told me never to repeat again. Oopsies. I fall on top of Breken and he yelps in high pitched fear. We are both flat on the ground. Ouch. The lights flicker on in the living room. Oh no.

"Abort mission! Abort! Abort!" I yell at Breken scrambling to get back onto my feet. I run to the doorway and bump into something tall and squishy. I look up. It's Papa! I run to the other side of the kitchen to try and grab Breken. The poophead is laying on the ground sprawled out in his dinosaur pj's sleeping. I start running in circles.

"ABORT! ABORT! ABORT THE MISSION!" I turn again. Papa is holding the big camera and laughing. The Great Gingerbread Heist has failed me. Dang it.