Timmy Buckner

The redoubtable Timmy Buckner thrust his fist at the thug attacking him.
"Take that!" he cried. He jumped up onto the nearby garbage dumpster, where he suddenly found himself hailed with a terrific volley of machine gun shot. This did not worry him, for he was extremely agile and had a bullet-proof vest on, but it made it harder for him to successfully land punches on his enemy.

"I’ll git ya, kid!" snarled the evil outlaw, and he pulled out his brass knuckles.

Timmy decided to retreat to a position where he had an advantage. After jumping off the dumpster, he scaled a nearby wire fence – dodging bullets as he went – and jumped the fifteen feet down to the other side. He grabbed a pistol that happened to be lying on the ground near him and shot one bullet right through the heart of the man who had been shooting at him.

"Maybe now I’ll have an easier time defeating the rest of the thugs around here," he thought. Just as he thought that, however, a dozen more of the crooks jumped down by him; from where he could not tell, but they were there just the same. "Ha! Twelve against one! But I’m not worried at all!" he shouted.

Timmy Buckner jumped three feet into the air, and, spinning around, he kicked. When he landed, five men were lying on the ground unconscious. Leaning over, Timmy butted the nearest standing man in the midriff, and then delivered an uppercut to the second-nearest man’s chin.

"Only five more to go!’ he thought. Suddenly, however, he found himself surrounded by four dozen more thugs! "I think I’ll scram," he said to himself, but he couldn’t move his legs! "What’s happening?" he cried out loud. He could not run, or even walk! He tried screaming, but no sound came forth from his throat.

The fifty-four criminals were closing in. They picked up the helpless Timmy, so strangely immobilized, and tied him up tightly with steel cables. They carried triumphantly him to the top of a nearby mile-high cliff. Poor Timmy Buckner found himself tossed, none too gently, over the edge of the perilous precipice. He fell down, down, down, until he could see the ground coming up closer, closer, closer, and......

CRASH! Timmy roared with anguish and fright as he flailed about, restrained by the unbreakable fibers. He was strangely unhurt, but he felt as if the soft moss he had landed on was suffocating him. As if through the back of his head, he could see the fifty-four crooks parachuting down after him one by one. Frantically, unceasingly, he cried for help with the last few breaths in his lung. Still the thugs continued to descend......

"Timmy, darling!" It was Mrs. Buckner speaking. "Son, what’s wrong?"

"I-I – I’m not sure," Timmy mumbled. He rolled over, and his mother pulled the disheveled covers back over his small, quivering body.

Mr. Buckner entered the bedroom. "What was the matter, dear?"

"Oh, Timmy was having bad dreams again."

"Is he better now?"

"Yes, he’s fast asleep again. I told you we shouldn’t let him watch those John Wayne movies. After all, he’s only seven!"

--Aaron