“Papa, why can’t we get waffles?” Asked Sally as she and Papa Acachalla were walking across the street. Papa Acachalla looked where Sally was pointing to then see a waffle add on a billboard.

“Sally, those waffles cost money, and I don’t have money,” Papa Acachalla said.

“How did you buy the pizza, then?” Sally asked in return. Papa Acachalla looked down at the pizza box he was holding.

“Gertrude gave me the money for the pizza,” Papa Acachalla replied. Sally was not convinced.

“Why don’t you ask mommy for more money, papa?” She asked Papa Acachalla, an annoyed look on her face.

Papa Acachalla sighed. How would he answer this? She doesn’t know she’s highly allergic to them, and she would go on a murderous rampage if she had even a single waffle. The problem was she would do the same without waffles. It was nearly impossible to calm her down and convince her she didn’t need waffles. She nearly killed her psychiatrist once.

“We’ll get you one once we get home,” Papa Acachalla said, annoyed.

“Yaaaaaay!” Sally yelled, and she skipped ahead to the end of the street. Their “car” was at the other end of the street “parked” by the sidewalk. They started up their junk car and headed home. They escaped the police and drove into their driveway. Papa Acachalla grabbed the pizza box and went inside. He had forgotten about Sally, who had fallen asleep.

“Gertrude! I’m home! I got the pizza!” Papa Acachalla said as he entered the house.

“Okay, Acachalla, put the pizza on the table,” Gertrude said back. She was nowhere in sight, so Papa Acachalla obeyed, and dropped the pizza box on the table rather sloppily. Their house was already a mess, so he didn’t bother to try to set it down.

“Gertrude, where are you?” Asked Papa Acachalla. No reply.

Strange. He thought.

“Gertrude!” He said again. Still no reply. He ran upstairs. To his surprise, Sally was at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Papa,” She said when he reached the last few steps.

“Sally, where’s Gertrude?” Papa Acachalla asked.

“I disposed of her,” She replied. Papa Acachalla had a worried look on his face.

“Sally, what do you mean?” Papa Acachalla asked. Before Sally had time to answer, Papa Acachalla had already went past her to Gertrude’s room. When he opened the door, he saw Gertrude lying on the floor obviously dead. Blood trickled down her cheek. Papa Acachalla vomited on the floor, and felt lightheaded. Once he recovered, he ran toward Gertrude and saw a bullet hole in between her eyes.

“No…,” He said. “I should have warned you.” Right at that moment, Sally came in the room holding Papa Acachalla’s gun.

“Papa, give me waffles. Now. Mommy wouldn’t give me any,” Sally said. Papa slowly got up off the floor and faced Sally.

“Sally, calm… down,” Papa Acachalla said with a worried expression on his face.

“I have your gun, papa. I will kill you if I don’t get a waffle NOW,” Sally said. Papa Acachalla was scared now. If he didn’t do anything soon, he would have a bullet in his skull.

“Sally, I-,” Papa Acachalla was interrupted by Sally.

“WAFFLE. NOW.” Sally screamed.

“Sally, let me take you downst-,” Papa Acachalla tried to say. Too bad he was interrupted by a bullet in his brain.


Once Sally killed Papa Acachalla, she walked calmly downstairs and noticed the pizza box. She was hungry, so she opened the box.

It was filled with waffles.

It was supposed to be her birthday present.

(This is my first fan fiction, so please tell me if I need to improve on anything if I write another one. I hope you like it).

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