Pretend Movies 3

Little Tryx felt her mother hold her against the tree, her finger--making a pretend pistol trained toward the 'cops' assumed by Tryx's father, out in the open.

"We're willing to work with you. Release the girl and you will not be harmed," Tryx's Father appeared a ways away, hiding behind a tree and some ferns, pretending to wield a loaded gun, himself.

"See what you've done?" Tryx's mother growled. "You've gotten us in a lot of trouble!" she called out to the 'cops' and shouted, "No body come any closer or the little one's gonna end up with a bullet in her gut!"

"Let her go. This doesn't have to get ugly."

Tryx put on her best desperate act, breathing hard and panicking. Her mother looked at her. "You think I'm pansy crook, you Slinerian, Slimeball! You expect me to fall for you games, drop it, and believe you when you say you'll fight for me? Then watch this!"

Tryx Mother pressed her finger-pistol in Tryx's body--her stomach just below her chest.

"'Click'" she said.

Tryx shouted, "No-no-no! Please don't shoot-m-ss-sss-ss!" She grinned and squinted. "Mooom! You're tickling ribs!"

"Oh, sorry sweets. A-hem! You're too late copperoos!"

Tryx's father moved forward, "She's gonna shoot! Open fire!"

"Ka-bang!" Tryx's mother shouted.

"Uh-UHH!!" Tryx gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

Tryx mother looked up to see her mate posing as a swat member in front of her.

"Shoot to kill!" he ordered. "Bang!"

Tryx's mother grabbed her chest and returned fire. "Ka-pooff!"

Tryx's father clutched his own chest and groaned. "Uugh! Man down! Request backup!"

All three of them collapsed on the ground. Tryx's mother pretended to groan her last and lay motionless.

Tryx's father turned to Tryx, who both huffed and writhed in a wounded way. "You'll be okay, sweetheart," he said. "I promise."

Tryx tried catching her breath amidst the imaginary pain. "It hurts...so much! Am I going to die?" she cried.

"It's okay sweetheart," her father, the swat member said. "They're calling the medics now. You'll get better, I promise."

Tryx let her head back, "It's getting dark...everything's getting grey. Where is the kidnapper? Is she going to shoot me again?"

"No sweets, she's dead. I shot her. She shot me first though, that witch."

"Witch, huh?" Tryx's mother asked sitting up. "Huh!"

"We-ell," Tryx's father laughed. "Yeah. But you're one good lookin' witch!"

Her mother nodded approvingly. "For minute there I thought I needed to work my black magic on you again."

"Eh-heh. Not in front our little Tryxter, sugar-scales."

Tryx rolled over playfully. "Aw, you guys can make love in front of me if you want! If you're gonna shoot each other up in front of you little pumpkin, you'd best be ready to make out in front of me too."

"Hot dog!" her Father exclaimed, springing up.

Tryx's mother ran to her mate, but not before turning to her little one. "I'll get you, little Tryxter! And you're little ribs too!"

Tryx grinned and squinted sweetly and mischievously.