'I knew I was doomed the moment the little brat pointed at me and squealed, "That one, daddy! I want that one!"' You've all been to a party. You've all seen the inside of a piñata. But what if the piñata was sentient? What is it had a very strong opinion about being bashed open by snotty brats lusting for candy? What if 'it', was a he? A nameless piñata watches for hours while small sugar-addicted, plague carrying little beasties party as he awaits his doom. But amidst all his silent pondering and creative name-calling, he begins concocting a daring plan of escape . . .All Rights Reserved
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