Ficly

Grandpa's Request

I was standing on the dock with my Grandpa. Every summer, my sister and I would sing songs to him out on the dock, but this summer, no one was doing any singing.
“I’m your Grandpa, Keith, and if I tell you to do something, you do it”, my Grandpa explained.
“Yeah? Well I’m your Grandson, and I refuse to give you this hand-grenade. You’ve been drinking, and I just don’t think it would be responsible!”
“I’m not going to throw it at a PERSON! I’m just going to throw it in the water and blow up some sea monsters.” My Grandpa believed in sea monsters, ever since we showed him this movie “Waterworld” with Kevin Costner. Thing was, there weren’t even any sea monsters in “Waterworld”. “Hand over the Grenade, Keith. Do the right thing.” I reluctantly removed one of the half-dozen frag grenades I had clipped to my bandoleer and, with a deep sigh, handed it to Grandpa.
Grandpa looked me in the eye and said “I’m confiscating this”, put the grenade in his pocket, and walked away. I never saw him again.

View this story's 1 comments.