The catapult creaked, a whip cracked, and a shrill scream was heard… and it all came crashing down…on Gia.
“Under California regulations, your trebuchet is classified as a public nuisance!” Max exclaimed, grabbing Scooby Snacks from the seat, and proceeded to gallop away on an illegally obtained horse. Emily and Gia will have to try again another day.
Upon arriving at his home, Max started by gathering his equipment for his dubious plan: a canon. PVC pipes for the cannon barrel, wooden planks for the frame, large monster truck wheels from his neighbor’s car, metal sheets also from his neighbor’s car, and multiple screws. Step one: build the cannon barrel. Max grabbed the PVC pipe and started to form the cannon barrel by cutting it to his desired length, eight feet. Step two: create the base of the cannon. Using the two long wooden planks, kindly contributed by Max’s front door, he supported the structure for the cannon, angling it upward slightly to resemble traditional cannon mounts. Then, Max attached the monster truck wheels to the base of the cannon for both mobility and intimidation purposes. Step four: attach the barrel to the base. Using screws that Max swiftly stole from the catapult collapse, he attached the eight-foot PVC to the base and ensured the barrel was stable yet could still tilt slightly up or down for an authentic look as well as to catch the hasty-moving Gia and Emily. Finally, Max added the finishing touches by attaching the metal sheets to the exterior of the cannon structure to fully form a connected cannon. He was then ready for full-force destruction.
Meanwhile, Emily and Gia, recovering from their bombastic failure of the trebuchet, were bedridden and cursing out Max and his political insults.
“How about we try to lure him into an iron maiden trap?” Emily asked.
There’s a moment of silence as they try to collect their thoughts, and then Gia comes to a realization. “Isn’t that one not even real? I remember that there’s no historical evidence to back it up.”
With that idea scrapped, they have to try something new. But while they were waiting for a new idea to pop into their minds, Max had completed his cannon; he wheeled it out to an open field, intending to leave it there for the next day.
As more days passed, there was no sign of Emily and Gia, and the cannon sat idly in the lonely field, slowly being bleached by the sun.
Suddenly, one evening, as Max was walking his dog around the field, dragging the cannon conspicuously behind him, he looked up from time to time for any signs of the arrival of his mortal enemies. Meanwhile, Gia and Emily, now recovered from their trebuchet mishap, wore protective armor to prevent any shenanigans.
With a pair of 18th-century binoculars, Max peered out from behind a conveniently placed bush. In the distance, he saw the clueless Gia and Emily moving in his direction. Max waited until the perfect opportunity, lifted the cannon until it made a 45-degree angle with the base, and lit the fuse…
BANG!
Gia and Emily rushed in the direction of the loud crash. When they reached the cannon, they saw it flat on the pavement, two still, lifeless legs sticking out from beneath. A slow trickle of blood began to dye the cement a light shade of brown.
Their enemy was now defeated!
“We’ve won!” cried Emily. After all these hours!
“Yes we have,” replied Gia. “But first, lemme just make sure that Max didn’t leave us any final traps.”
So Gia, ignoring the desperate cries of warning from Emily, inserted her egg-shaped head into the front end of the cannon. “Just making sure Max isn’t hiding in this thing with a crossbow,” she called out, the cannon now obscuring everything from the top of her head to the neck.
Little did she know, though Max’s cannon was unstable structurally, he had paid special attention to making a long fuse. And as Gia stood there, desperately searching for any signs of a trap, the fuse burned ever close to the cannon itself.
Emily, her goodwill overwhelming her senses, rushed to Gia and attempted to pull her from the cannon. But it was too late.
There was the sound of thunder.
Max’s dog walked away into the distance, freed from his leash, as one roundish object and another egg-shaped one soared through the air toward the setting sun.
The end!