Wrong side of the bed
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One morning young Johnny woke up to look out his window and saw a beautiful, sunny morning with birds chirping, squirrels frolicking, and bunnies hopping around all eagerly scavenging for food. But young Johnny hates sunny mornings, chirping birds, frolicking squirrels and hopping bunnies. So he pull his brand new AK-47 out from under his pillow (he lost one of his teeth last night and put under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy, she left him this) aims at all the happy creatures in the back yard and fires away. Soon all that is left of the furry critters is blood and guts. Young Johnny smiles his beautiful Jack Nicholson ‘Here’s Johnny’ look at the camera and hides his AK under his bed. Starting off the day with cute, fuzzy animals in his back yard does not make young Johnny a happy boy, but getting rid of them did. Putting on his favorite tee shirt and jumper (that his mom laid out for him) young Johnny heads downstairs to breakfast with a smile.
Upon entering the kitchen he finds his mom and dad waiting for him at the kitchen table for breakfast to start. “Here you go Johnny,” coos his mother, a little shaken, not stirred. “We waited for you before we started eating, just how you like it.” Young Johnny goes and sits across the table from his parents and looks down at the plate in front of him. Pancakes! Young Johnny’s favorite! But upon closer inspection he notices his pancakes are burnt on one side. Young Johnny’s face turns grave. Turning to his mother he says, “Mother, these pancakes are burned.” Young Johnny’s mother gasps in shock, she placed the wrong pancakes in young Johnny’s seat! “Johnny sweety,” his mother quivers with fear, “I must have given you the wrong pancakes. Here,” she take the plate in front of her and switched it with young Johnny’s plate, “take my pancakes.” Young Johnny doesn’t move. His parents sit in silent anticipation as to what young Johnny might do. But he does nothing. Young Johnny’s breathing gets more ragged, harsh, almost to the point of young Johnny hyperventilating. Then, out of nowhere, “AAHHH!” Young Johnny explodes in rage, pulling out a grenade from his jumper and pulling the pin out but holding the grenade. Young Johnny jumps from his seat, screaming his war cry at the top of his lungs, and runs out of his house. He runs all the way to Central Park (and somehow his parents could afford a backyard in the middle of New York) holding his grenade in one hand and making his Claw of Death©. He stops in the middle of the park, breathing heavily with his jumper falling off one of his shoulders. And then someone decided to take his picture. He dropped the grenade.

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