Eric Todd's Big Idea

Eric Todd's Big Idea

One sunny summer morning, Eric Todd woke up and thought to himself,
    "Today would be the perfect day to do something crazy."
   
    He lugged himself out of bed and threw on yesterday's clothes. That way, if anything happened, his mother wouldn't have to do extra washing. Eric also put on his Grandpa's lucky derby.
    Stopping on his way out the door to grab a donut, Eric Todd rushed out into the street to meet his best friend, Tiny Gary. He was about half the size of Eric, and Eric was pretty small for his age.
   
    "Hiya, Eric," Gary squeaked.
    "Hiiii Gary!" Eric exclaimed. "Today we have to come up with an idea!"
    "An idea?" Gary asked, confused.
    "Yes- a perfect idea. Ya know, so we can blow something up or something," Eric explained to Gary. It all made perfect sense to him. Gary still looked confused.
    "Why would we want to blow something up?" Gary asked.  
    "Oh, I dunno. I guess it would be fun," Eric said, but the expression on his face had changed. He no longer looked excited about his idea. Instead, he was wondering if maybe he and Gary should just go fishing.
    "I know! My big brother has some fireworks. We could use those," Gary suggested. Eric brightened up at the suggestion.
    "Good idea! Let's go," Eric said, leading the way over to Gary's house.


    Fifteen minutes later, Eric and Gary had fireworks piled up in their arms.
    "Wait a second," Eric said, a frown settling on his face. "We need a laboratory to do our work. We can't just do it out here in the open! Enemy spies might be around," Eric whispered, peering around as if a spy was right behind the walnut tree in his front yard.
    "Oh," Gary whispered back, looking frightened.
    "Let's build a clubhouse first," Eric whispered. "C'mon."
       Eric Todd and Tiny Gary set to work building a clubhouse. Six donuts and three glasses of lemonade later, their "clubhouse" was beginning to look like a small junkyard.
    "It's getting their... it's getting their..." Eric said, and they set to work again.
    Three hours later, their clubhouse wasn't getting any better, and Tiny Gary's stomach was rumbling.  
    "I think it's lunch time," He whispered, apparently still thinking "enemy spies" were lurking about.