A Sunset of Rage

Chapter 7

Arnoldo kicked open the door, rolling inside. Everyone screamed and stared at him. Damien and Frederic followed subtly. "THIS IS THE FBI! HANDS UP!" the immensely talented child yelled.
"Ugh. Colors," Damien complained.
Arnoldo shoved over a shelf of cheaply sequined pillows, looking for the criminal. He fired a bullet into a pile of monkey shirts for good measure.
"Um, this store is just for girls," a highly sophisticated third grader corrected.
The child prodigy shot her down. He knew there was evil lurking.
"Dami, I like this," Frederic commented, holding a plush capybara pillow.
"STOP!" Damien ordered.
"Come, little ones. We must go to the back room, which is where the enemy lies," Arnoldo commanded, trotting.
They stealthily made their way to the back room, from which an awful smell was emanating. It smelled like the scent of rotting corpses. However, just as they were about to kick the door down, the large employee stepped in front of them.
"May I help you?" she asked, faking kindness. Her gothic attire did not match the environment of the store.
"Out of the way! This is an FBI investigation!" Damien yelled, holding out his expired FBI ID.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. No FBI agents are allowed in the top secret room. And by the way, this store is just for girls, as in the logo. You have 30 seconds to leave before I kick your a**," she warned sweetly.
"Wow, just for girls? So you're saying capybarakin can't enter this chamber?" Frederic scoffed.
The employee, whose nametag said "Moisty", wrenched his arm behind his head and flipped him over her knee. Then she kicked him into the floor, breaking his spine. After he was damaged, she beat his skull with the cash register.
"Owie!" Frederic whined, rubbing his head.
"Frederic. Get up. You're not 4 anymore," Damien disciplined. Any FBI agent who couldn't take a beating was on a subhuman level. Unlike him, of course.
"Dami, is this normal?" Frederic asked, holding out his twisted arm.
"No."
They had to devise a master scheme to sneak into the back room. "Children, let's get lunch," Arnoldo beckoned. He was hungry.
They went to the big hamburger restaurant, staring at the menu for their food. "So I assume you're paying?" Arnoldo scowled at Damien.
"Oh, what a funny joke! You're so d*mn funny, you little fool!" Damien laughed sarcastically, roughly ruffling the tiny fool's hair.
"Ha. Even though I may be a trillionaire, that doesn't mean I can't get a free lunch," Arnoldo scoffed.
"What'll it be, kids?" Negan, the cashier, chuckled.
"Ew," Damien shuddered.
"NEGAN!" Frederic screamed, fainting.
"Gross. Get out of this restaurant. I'm trying to eat a chili dog," Rick ordered.
"Lol. Your teen is dead, Rick," Negan laughed.
"Get me a double cheeseburger with extra ketchup, and a large fry," Arnoldo snapped.
Chuckling, Negan handed him a large french fry. Arnoldo slapped it out of his hand, stepping on it. "NOW!" he screamed.
"Aww. You're so cute, little one," Negan cooed, patting his head.
Arnoldo shoved a knife through his heart. The bearded hero collapsed, wounded. "R-Rick...help me..." he murmured.
"Maybe you shouldn't have killed Glenn," Rick said emotionally, aiming his gun at the fuzzy villain. Bam. Shot.
"Wow, you only mention Glenn? Great, I feel so appreciated," Abraham complained, throwing his hands up.
"I DON'T WANT THE WALKING DEAD UNLESS THERE'S CARL!" Damien hollered, kicking the trash can over and making the trash spill on a toddler's head.
"M-My teen..." Rick cried, sniffling.
"Hehe. Fool," Frederic giggled, practicing being like Damien. He got a kick in the shin from the stubby emo.
Arnoldo bitterly ate a big cheeseburger. "I hate my life. I'm way too talented for this," he grumbled.
"Don't worry, Arnoldiando. We're your true friends," Frederic comforted, giving him a pat on the shoulder. Arnoldo growled threateningly, chewing his cheeseburger like human flesh.
Then, the news came on. It was barely audible above the background noise of the restaurant, but the headlines were disturbingly clear:
        "12 Bodies Found in Justice"