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Big City welcomed summer with long, hot days and red-setting skies. This evening was not unlike. The setting sun dyed the sky in various hues of orange and red. The Greens were all outdoors, enjoying the cool evening breeze accompanying the beautiful twilight.
Fumes rose in the air as Bill tossed another corn over the grill.
“Nothing like some good grilled meat and veggies.” He hummed as he seasoned the precious, juicy piece of beef. His mouth watered at the sight. The children had helped him put fertilisers on the crops they planted the previous spring after the soil had thawed.
He thought to reward their hard efforts with some meat and thus, the barbecue. Some of their close neighbours had been invited but most had declined due to other impediments.
They had a good sale this month. City people had a strange hobby of adopting healthier eating habits once summer. Men and women alike rushed to get their ‘summer bods’ as they bought apples and fresh, organic legumes.
Gramma, lounging in her favourite chair, rocked back and forth as she napped. The sweet-sour scent of grilled corn and pineapples made her twitch occasionally. Bill huffed as he wiped his forehead. A sheer layer of sweat coated his skin and he smiled when Nancy appeared with a tray. The glasses clinked as she went down the stairs, the glasses coated in drops of condensed liquid.
“Oh, there’s nothing better than some haymaker’s punch to enjoy the tastes of summer!” He cheered, taking his first sip with vigour.
“P-Potato… Mm… Casserole… Yum…” Gramma abruptly yelled before turning to her side and dozing off. Bill had been trying out a new recipe recently and Alice had been having quite some nice dreams.
“Tilly! Cricket! Food is ready!” Billy shouted, looking for the kids.
Tilly was beside Gramma, playing and talking to Saxon. She was having a little tea summer tea party, dressed in purple and green. The ragged sack doll was leaning against the porch balustrades – the old wood splintered and crooked.
The house was still in its usual battered state, more so after Chip’s never-ending attacks. It was a miracle the house was still standing. Bill had been amending the roof in the early mornings after tending to the land.
The rainy seasons would be here soon and it would be a hassle to have the house leaking everywhere.
“Cricket, don’t run there son. You’re scaring the chickens.” Bill sighed as the chickens flailed around as the little devil and their dog, Phoenix, ran in circles around their coop.
“Don’t worry Dad! The chickens need some exercise too.” Cricket called out as he ran to his father.
“Tilly dear, can you bring me some of that zucchini left from today’s sale?” Bill asked as he plated their food. Nancy, who had been invited for dinner, helped set the table – an old wooden picnic table.
The chairs were worn out, creaking when Tilly leaned a knee on one to place the plates on the table. Bill made quick work of his baby zucchinis, adding a few onto the grilled for Nancy.
Gramma woke up just in time for the food as she waddled to the table. The family gathered around and began digging into their food with Cricket’s banter being the only thing louder than his stomach.
“Too bad Remy couldn't join us!” he grumbled as he stuffed a large piece of tender meat into his mouth. Bill was quick to scold him.
The little family was blissful.
However, unbeknownst to them, a pair of envious eyes watched over their little world with fury and hate. A single flower – more so a weed Tilly felt bad to uproot – just outside their property, equipped with a teeny tiny camera. The man behind the screens was red with rage, hands spasming as he watched the happy family who brought him all this misery. Gritting his teeth, he bent forward, face almost touching the screen and he touched the image of the boy responsible for all the problems in his life.
“I’ll get you, farm boy! And your little dog too!”
—--------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Cricket was up and early. His face radiated excitement as he could not stay still. After gobbling his breakfast down, he was out and taking the path to Remy’s house. They had a playdate, and he could not wait to tell Remy about this invention of his.
He had scrambled up a few pieces of junk and wood and attached them to some of Gramma’s clothes. He ran down the street, whistling and greeting his neighbours.
Too eager, he decided to take the ‘secret’ shortcut which went through a broken fence. The owner was absent today and the dog who had been completely tamed by Cricket, gleefully barked when he ran by.
He reached the park, lightly jogging and completely distracted by simply everything; the ducks in the pond, a few strays enjoying the shades of the trees. The sun behind his shoulders was warm and bright.
He was about to throw a stone in the pond when a shadow engulfed him. He turned to look but all that came was darkness. A hand clasped around his eyes, blinding him as he was pulled backwards. A man pulled Cricket’s small body against his chest, arm wrapped around his neck, while the other hand clamped around his mouth.
“Hmph! Hmm!”
Panic settled in as he started thrashing around, kicking his assaulter and trying to scream. But his mouth was pressed shut. Cricket gave the hand a fierce bite. His razor sharp teeth sunk into soft fat flesh, hard!
“Ah! Little brat! He bit me!” The croaky voice of a man resounded. The two burly men strode towards a van parked nearby and stuffed the boy in.
“Here, I got something that will keep him quiet.” The hand around his eyes was temporarily lifted, allowing Cricket to see again. He headbutted the man in front of him before lunging forward, eager to escape. His small body did not get far however as the door closed.
It knocked him back and before he could yell, a cloth was pressed against his mouth and nose. One whiff of the pungent smell and everything started to spin.
Within seconds he was knocked out cold.
“Well, that sure was worth the money.” The tallest man sighed, rubbing the back of his hand where a nasty bruise was forming.
“Call the boss and tell him we got the package. Delivery in fifteen.” The brunette man pulled out his phone. A moment later, a frantic laugh echoed through the device.
On the other side of the phone, a slender figure tapped his fingers impatiently on his conspiracy board. A multitude of pictures was pinned across the vast wall depicting pictures of the all too happy Green family in their daily lives. The delicate stalking had taken over a month to garner such intimate outlook into the Greens.
Carefully planted cameras and long distance photos, which were a courtesy of the Wholesome Foods money, had been used to create Whistler’s recent dart boards - mostly of the little rascal of the Greens, photos and doodles (usually with various insulting comments).
Chip Whistler was a determined man who had nothing left to lose. He had been kicked out from the city, his reputation damaged and his ego trampled on. In the past couple weeks, as he meticulously crafted his plans, he had been completely consumed by his abhorrence for the Greens.
After several crushing defeats, he was as sure as eggs that his new plan was foolproof. This time, his revenge would be as sweet as it was cruel. Rolling up his sleeves and running a hand through his blonde tresses, Whistler readied himself to greet his arch nemesis - Cricket Green.
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Pacing around his room, little Remy nibbled on the tip of his thumb. He was starting to get impatient. He arranged and rearranged his toys and books in a specific order. It was not strange for his best friend to be slightly late but it had been over an hour past their promised schedule. Knowing Cricket, the purple haired boy was almost sure the former was in some kind of trouble.
Remy sighed. “Cricket must have gotten distracted by the ducks in the pond again…” He tapped his feet.
“Or he’s playing with Mrs. Daisy’s dog again. He can never say no to giving that dog a good tummy scratching”
Unable to contain all that agitation, he decided to call Bill, hoping Cricket had merely forgotten about their rendezvous. That boy had a head full of bees.
“Hello Mister Green. This is Remy.”
“Oh hi Remy! What can I do ya for?”
“Um, is Cricket there? He said he was coming over but it's been ages.”
“What do you mean? Cricket left two hours ago. He should have been there by now.” Bill’s surprised voice resonated through the phone.
“He did? But-But he hasn't shown up. I’ve been waiting for him all this time!” Bill felt his heart rate escalate.
“Oh boy I hope he’s not in trouble again. I keep telling that boy to stay out of trouble. I- I’m gonna go look for him! Call back if he gets to your house, Remy.”
Hanging up the phone, Bill muttered a soft ‘dang’ before yelling for Tilly and Gramma. He explained the situation before rushing outside, calling out his little troublemaker’s name and asking the passer-bys whether they had seen his son or not.
He kept telling himself not to panic, there could be any number of explanations for this. But with Cricket, that could also mean trouble.
—----------------------------------------------------------------
A throbbing pain was the first thing Cricket registered as he came to. His vision blurry and unfocused as he blinked multiple times, perplexed. Slowly he began to remember what just happened, but it was all jumbled up and foggy; from the journey to Remy’s house to the walk in the park and finally-!
Cricket was feeling groggy as he glanced around the room. He tugged his hands to rub his eyes only to find them restrained behind his back. The brightly lit room with its sparkly metal made him even dizzier than he already was.
His throat felt itchy; he was parched.
As he came around more he noticed some strange facts about the place he was in. There were no windows or doors. The strange room was frustratingly squared with strange beeping devices and little neon lights. The walls and floor were smooth and polished. It was brand new without a speck of dust. It looked like some kind of high tech lab or a room for VR gaming(if it was like what you saw in cartoons and movies). Cricket felt his skin prick at the sight. Where was he?
“This is a dream. It has to be haha! I’m dreaming and this! It’s a nightmare! I’ve been watching too many of those sci-fi movies with Remy. I’ll-I’ll just pinch myself and I’ll wake up!” He rambled. With his hands tied behind his back though, he resorted to the next best thing. Bumping his head against the hard surface he was sitting in.
“Ouch! … I’m not dreaming?” Eyes blown wide open, Cricket tugged against his restrains again, in hope they would give with more force.
A mechanical swoosh made him look to his right where a familiar head of blonde hair appeared. A door had appeared in the wall like something out of a sci fi movie before closing up and seemingly disappearing again, Chip Whistler having walked out through!
Cricket was mildly shocked, but mostly annoyed seeing who it was. He almost rolled his eyes at the sight.
“Ugh! You again? I should’ve known. You’re more stubborn than a tick on a dog!” Cricket complained.
“Aw, not happy to see me, little grasshopper?” Chip chuckled, flashing a million dollar smile. “You know how hard I worked to get you here?” He approached Cricket, delighted in the sight of him squirming.
“You look like the wriggly worm you are. That look suits you.” His lips were drawn into a permanent smirk; his front teeth gleaming under the white light of what could only be described as a high-tech lab.
“And you look like you had a visit to the dentist again.” Cricket retorted, laughing when Chip’s brows pulled into an angry frown only for the latter to inhale before huffing out a laugh.
“Nope. Not letting your petty insults ruin my good mood, you pesky brat.” Whistler hummed, tucking his hair back and puffing out his chest proudly.
“At least they are better than yours.” Cricket stuck out his tongue, almost inciting Chip to do the same but he caught himself at the last minute.
However, under his usual smart mouth, Cricket was starting to get worried. He knew just what Chip was capable of, the events of last time proving that well enough. He had to get out of here, or at least in a position where he could fight back, kick some shins and bite if needed.
He started to pull and strain and tug his body, trying to get it loose from the device he was stuck in. But it was useless. No matter how much he strained, the stocks and ropes wouldn't budge an inch.
“Struggle all you want kiddo, you're not going anywhere. I paid a pretty penny for all these beauties.” Chip caressed the cold surface of a strange machine next to him with the tip of his fingers.
“The stocks are made of a new fancy material, it can withstand the weight of an elephant and still not be crushed. You’d need a diamond blade to cut through them. Plus, as an added safety measure,” Chip pointed to a small rectangle on the side of the stocks, which looked very much like a tiny touch screen. It emitted a green light.
“You know what that is, lil brat?” He smiled when Cricket’s expression turned confused.
“A fingerprint lock, designed only to open from the registered user's print. Which, of course, is moi.”
After a few more tries, arching his back hard in his attempts to pull free, Cricket’s energy gave out and he flopped back in place with a grunt. The restrains were too secure.
“Holy cow! H- How did you even get this stuff?” Cricket asked, bewildered. It was for certain that Chip Whistler was not smart enough to build all of these complex devices.
“Money talks. I had a little word with Big City’s resident mad scientist. She was so eager the moment I showed her the bills and she instantly said ‘yes’ when I agreed to let her have a go at the results of our little experiment.”
The high-tech room had been made by Gwendolyn Zapp - the mad scientist who had almost killed them on two different occasions with her insane inventions.
Whistler had managed to coax her into his evil plans quite easily by pouring money into her new research as well as a promise to deliver recordings of the experiment. Hence the gadget lying next to the stock. It was tiny patches which would stick to Cricket’s skin and like a sensor, would record his brain activity and body temperature.
Cricket knew Chip Whistler was a piece of work, but, this…! This was new, this was like supervillain territory.
“Are you that lonely?” Cricket riposted.
“Aw, you care about me now, piggy?” Chip grinned. Nothing was going to get between his sweet revenge and his delightful mood.
“Ya need to let me leave. My family’s gonna notice I’m gone. Remember what dad did to your guards last time?” Cricket tried to put on a brave facade but the tinge of nervousness in his voice made his tone creaky.
“Oh your daddy won’t be finding me any time soon. He’s so dumb, he’ll just run around in circles.” Chip cackled and nonchalantly tilted his head down, looking at Crickets feet. He clapped his hands afterwards.
“Your peasant feet are absolutely filthy.” He said, more to himself as he glanced down at his hands, devising his next moves. “What, your farmer dad doesn’t make enough money to buy you shoes?” He faked a whiney voice to mock Cricket.
The corners of his lips constantly twitched as his thoughts flooded his mind - one evil plan after the other. He had invested so much time and effort in his plan that now it made him almost nervous to execute it. No, not nervous, perhaps more of a thrill.
“My family will come looking for me! And when they do they’ll kick yer sorry behind from here to Kentucky!”
“Too bad they're not gonna find you twerp.” Chip emphasised with a monotone voice. He looked Cricket in his eyes, approaching his tied up body. He leaned down, smirking when Cricket tried to lunge forward, neck straining.
“This place is heavily camouflaged. They could be staring this place right in the face and not know you're here. I took all precautions, nobody’s gonna interrupt us.”
Cricket felt butterflies in his belly and it was not the good kind.
“Ya finally lost your marbles, Chip. Let me go!”
“Hahahaha! Think what you want, Greenie beanie. I am going to make you suffer like you made me do.”
—-----------------------------------------------------
Chip Whistler’s secret hideout was an abandoned building- an old factory which he had acquired before he had been kicked out of Big City. It was camouflaged and secured with outer space tech mixed with Gwendolyn’s magic touch. Cameras and robots supervised the area, disguised as bugs.
The old factory was located a few streets from the Greens’ residence and a lane from the police station. To anyone passing by, that's all it would look like.
They were hiding in plain sight; Chip thought he really outdid himself this time and couldn’t help but feel proud. The special room he was keeping Cricket captive in was one without any normal doors or windows. It was a fail- safe bunker. The sole opening was the moving wall which could only be opened with Chip’s voiceline and a retina scan.
Inside the room where the stocks were kept, a single camera monitored Cricket - something Chip would keep to watch later, with a bucket of popcorn in his hands. He would savour that moment when Cricket Green was finally tormented by his hands.
“Ah so many options, where do we even start?” Chip hummed as his gaze trailed the length of Cricket’s body.
The boy felt his skin prick, goosebumps rising wherever that ill-intent gaze fell. Just WHAT horrible thing was Chip going to do to him? The waiting alone was enough to make all kinds of ideas float around in his head, so many awful possibilities.
“Okay! Okay, fine. You got me, Beaver face! So what are you gonna do?” The feisty insult - despite not holding the usual sass in Cricket’s tone - did stab Chip right in the gut. His face turned red for a second before he released a soft sigh and chuckled to himself.
“How stupid can you be? I mean, riling up your kidnapper? Really, you guys give a new definition to stupid.” He suddenly grabbed Cricket’s foot, pressing onto the sole so his foot was slightly arched. “BUT, in answer to your question.”
He did not have to wait long for Whistler to eventually make a move. He ran his forefinger along Cricket’s left foot, a feather of a touch, eliciting a rise on the boy’s skin. Cricket’s eyes widened at the all too familiar sensation, toes curled slightly and he tried to tug his feet back in vain.
Oh no! Oh no, he, he couldn't…!
Chip hummed to himself as he continued, a single finger just lazily running up and down, up and down the small sole, sending tingly sensations coursing through. Sensations that made him shudder and his legs flex.
“Ticklish, aren’t we?” He said with a breathy laugh.
Panic flooded Cricket as fear clouded his eyes. Adrenaline rushed through his system as he began to wriggle back with all his strength only for the binds to firmly hold him in place.
“No! No no no! You wouldn’t!” He begged, forgetting any usual sense of pride or sass, just, no, don't do that! Don't tickle him! “PLEASE!!”
“Oh poor you.” Chip cooed as his lips pulled into an evil grin. “Kitchy kitchy kooooo!”
Cricket yelped when the tip of Chip’s finger picked up its pace, really caressing his skin. He sputtered an insult, face going red. He battled to keep his lips sealed, struggling to keep the throaty laughs in.
“D-Darn you C-Chip! Ah- Ahahahahaha - Stop it!”
Chip looked up, smile so big it made his eyes crinkled.
“What was that?” He doubled his effort to tickle Cricket’s foot. “Was that a laugh, lil grasshopper?”
Cricket shook his head, not trusting himself to say anything without letting it all out. And boy was it hard! His small body shook while his cheeks puffed out with all that laughter bubbling up inside him, just bursting to come out.
“OH I think it was.” Chip teased in a sing-song tone. “Cmon, don't be shy. Just let it all out. You’ll feel better.” Every word chipped further and further away at Cricket's defence.
He tried that much harder as he could feel himself slipping, biting on his lip. He pressed his eyes shut, opened them again. He tried thinking - chanting- in his head ‘don’t laugh! Don’t laugh!”
He did not want to give Chip the satisfaction.
And if that wasn't bad enough, Chip upped his game, wanting to hear the little brat laugh right out loud. All five fingers started dancing and scribbling around the flexing sole.
“AH! Sto -ahp! Stahahahaapp! You ha hahaha! Pita chip teeth! Ah st-ahahaa!” Cricket erupted into a fit of giggles. He squirmed and thrashed as much as his shackles allowed. “L- hii! Let me g-ahh!”
Chip smirked broadly at the kid’s spluttering laughter.
BINGO-BANGO.
“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying, grasshopper. You’ve got to be clearer.” Chip’s fingers wiggled against Cricket’s foot as he taunted him.
Oh this was just awful! The fact of the matter is, Cricket was ticklish. VERY. In fact, like many other aspects regarding the boy, it was hyper, and just a few choice motions could have the boy writhing and laughing up a storm, begging for mercy.
And his feet, despite going around barefoot as much as he could, since the day he was born, were his worst spot! They may have been toughened and calloused up so much the skin was as sturdy as leather, but for some mystery, the only weakness they had was being tickled. It was their kryptonite.
Cricket had been tickled plenty of times, like by his family. Even Remy sometimes when they were playing. But that had always been fun or messing around! Like Mom hugging him only to give him a surprise goose to his ribs, or when he was feeling down or being a little too sassy, Dad might give him a good old tickling to cheer him up, or “punish” him. Always silly and in play, it was a way for them to bond really.
THIS was not fun. This was torture. Torture at the hands of a petty, vindictive soul who wanted to make the boy SUFFER and suffer well.
“O-Oh ye ugly toohahahath fa-ahiry!” The young boy stammered, it of course very hard to talk, much less insult someone, while you were laughing.
After a long five minutes, Chip stopped, standing back to admire his masterpiece. Cricket’s face was flushed pink, mouth agape and panting, as his body spasmed. The corners of his lips ached tremendously from laughing as he gave Chip a meek glare. His cheeks burnt with humiliation.
“I have to say. You’ve got a cute laugh grasshopper. It’s all squeaky.” Chip said as he switched his hands to the other foot. Cricket’s eyes widened in fear.
“N-No! ‘Nough!” Cricket stammered, toes wiggling. The sole of his foot felt both tingly and itchy, an annoying after effect of being tickled silly. Cricket huffed angrily before snorting with laughter as Chip scratched his heels on the other. His foot shook to either side, trying to escape the onslaught of tickles.
“Squeaky like those stress toys.” Chip snickered, “For such an irritating little brat, it's adorable!”
Chip’s fingers curled into paws and hovered over the boy’s foot. His grin widened as he let the tension simmer, watching Cricket flail around weakly, helplessly beneath him.
“You look almost as red as those tomatoes you sell. Almost. We gotta make sure the colours match. Let me see.” His fingers crawled higher up, along the arch and just below the toes, exploring for sensitive skin.
“Ahihhiihi! Y-You donkey! No-ahhahaha!” Cricket was going crazy, it was just so-so ticklish. He yelped and guffawed as Chip mercilessly attacked that spot, curling his fingers and varying the pressure of his fingers. “Cut it out!!”
“How’s that farm boy? Aw, ticklish here too? What about here?” He teased as he wiggled his fingers along the balls of the feet, making the toes curl and squirm like crazy. He kept to that space quite a while, only having to hold his fingers in place and lightly move the tips against the skin.
“AhhEee! Aha- heeheehee!” Cricket gasped as the villainous Chip went after all his sensitive spots until he was heaving for air. He couldn’t hold his laughter, howling and roaring as Chip even squeezed the back of his knees. “Stoppphihhhihihittt!”
“Whaaat? Stop? When you're having so much FUN?” Chip teased, giving another sneaky squeeze to the knee which made Cricket yelp and jump in place, like a tickle shock. “Look at you, I ain't ever seen anyone so happy!”
Cricket howled and squealed and squirmed in place, the sensations steadily growing worse and worse. It felt like it was shooting everywhere in an intense annoying tingle, making him laugh right from his belly against his will. It made him a mixture of annoyed and worried, knock it off, it wasn't funny!-it felt awful, please, stop, just let him go!
“Your stinky feet had enough?” Chip ridiculed and made a show of digging into his pockets. “Ah! Here we go. This is gonna be so much more fun.”
Cricket watched in horror as Chip pulled out a colourful feather.
“Oh man!!”
“Aww, SCARED kiddo?” Chip mocked; the feather in his hands was as good as a loaded weapon to the ten year old.
That remark got under his skin, scowling heavily at the businessman. “Scared of you? As IF, you bleach blonde fake tan cool guy wannabe! ” He puffed, cheeks as red as tomatoes. There was still some fight to the kid, though it was essentially getting him into a deeper hole.
“Watch your tongue, greenie beanie.” Chip snarled. The little rascal was tenacious but Chip Whistler was a patient man and he found an innate joy in slowly breaking the boy in. “We’ll see how you do with this one.”
He rolled Cricket’s shirt up to expose his belly. Because of his overalls, he could only get the side of his tummy, BUT, it would do. Unable to resist, he gave the sides a quick squeeze. A throaty laugh left Cricket and he sputtered as Chip ran his fingers higher up - next to his ribcage.
“Haha!” Chip taunted as he grasped the feather and slowly neared it to Cricket’s skin. “I’ve never seen you laugh so much. You should thank me!”
The fluffy feather grazed Cricket’s belly. His body jolted as hand and feather prodded and stroked his belly and sides.
“Ahahahaaha! S-Stop! Hieee! You - hahah looney tune!”
Chip merely brushed his fingers against the front of his blazer in a lackadaisy manner, inspecting them after he was done, while continuously tickling Cricket with the feather. As if the boy wasn't even there, he couldn't hear him.
“You know if I had known what a ticklish little squirt you were, I'd have done this much sooner! Would’ve saved a lot of time and effort. I mean just LOOK at you, going to pieces from just a few teensy weensy tickles. Laugh it up brat!" Chip grinned most evilly, dragging the feather along at a faster pace.
It made Cricket do just that, laughing much harder and shaking in place, desperate to get away. The tip of the feather stroked firmly and lazily up and down the trembling flesh, Cricket thrashing in place and throwing his head back in laughter. His body swayed from side to side in an attempt to escape the fluffy feather.
“Y-Yer crazzeeheeeeheheheheee!! Stoppit!! L-Let me gooohohohooooo!!” Cricket demanded, but the effect wasn't the same, what with him giggling and squealing like he was. He was still trying, but it was getting to him. He wasn't feeling quite as brave as he usually could. No matter how he tried, he could feel himself breaking, getting desperate.
Cricket’s resolve was crumbling. And the man was positively giddy over it.
“What? I can’t hear you. Oh, you want more here?” Chip drew the feather further up to Cricket’s armpit, drawing small circles from his quivering ribcage to his armpit. Cricket doubled up with laughter, his voice now trembling from exhaustion. The high pitched laughter continued until Chip gave him a moment of respite, and he was able to catch his breath.
He glared at Chip, rummaging his rapidly moving mind for a quirky insult but nothing came. He could even hear his own laughter repeatedly bump against his brain.
“I told you Greenie. No one is coming for you.” Chip seemed to break from his cool act as he burst into a maniacal laugh, idly waving the feather against poor Cricket’s skin. Occasionally he would slide up to the boy’s armpit to hear him howl.
“Oh do we do the armpit next? What about the neck? Ah you seemed to like the feet too. So many options.” He uttered to himself, success rushing to his head.
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A few streets away, a worried family was on the lookout for their ever so troublesome and naughty young son.
“Listen to me.” Andromeda pulled Tilly so close she was practically whispering in her ears. “The aliens. I’m sure of it! They got Cricket and they’re gonna torture him to get information on us. They must be planning an all scale invasion!” Tilly stared at her, words stuck on her lips. She was not sure how to explain to her friend that her brother could not have been abducted by aliens.
“We need to save him asap! They should have left some signs behind.” The girl in purple whispered - yelled.
“A-Andromeda… I don’t think- ”
“You used to stay on a farm right? Have you ever seen crop circles? I read that they are gigantic!”
“Momma!” Tilly hopped down the porch as Nancy drew up in front of the house. She put down her helmet and dusted her jacket as she went to catch her daughter in a comforting hug.
“My baby. Any news about Cricket yet?” She asked and frowned as Tilly shook her head from side to side.
Bill returned at that same moment, having done a second round up of the neighbourhood. He had backtracked Cricket’s route to Remy’s house - through the little gap in the neighbour's fence to the park. He had met with the people. The fence owner, who was an old lady, complained a bit before saying that she had not caught sight of the boy that day.
The park was filled with strays and a few people doing a late morning exercise. No one had seen the boy. Until a little girl who was there to feed the ducks finally told Bill that three men had suddenly appeared and grabbed a boy who looked like the one in the picture Bill showed.
Bill’s worry and anger had risen through the roof. If they had one such enemy in Big City, it had to be none other than that darn Chip Whistler.
“Did you find the boy?” Gramma called from over Nancy’s shoulders.
“No but I found a clue ma.” Bill told the rest of the search party which included the Green family, Gloria, and a few neighbours from the opposite complex, what information he had gathered.
“A lil girl said she saw Cricket get kidnapped by three men in the park. They got in a van and disappeared afterwards.
“Oh boy, how ’re we gonna find that little rascal? It’s all goin’ cattywampus!”
“How are we gonna find a van now? There’s so many in Big City.” Bill wiped the droplets of sweat from his forehead. His shoes were a mess, covered in mud from running around in Cricket’s footsteps - no wonder that boy was so filthy without even having to work the land. His shirt was even more wrinkled than usual and he wiped his dusty fingers on the palms of his hands.
They formed a small circle to discuss their next course of action.
As they spoke, Tilly’s eyes strained to their dog. A brilliant idea popped into her head. She gently tugged on her mom’s hand. “I have an idea.”
All eyes turned to her.
—-------------------------------------------------------
“Ye… Ye ain’t gonna get away with this!” Cricket huffed harshly.
“Oh shut your stupid mouth. Who’s gonna save you? Your stupid daddy and criminal mommy? Doubtful! ” Chip scowled. He let the feather dangle in front of Cricket’s eyes. He returned it to his neck, the soft and fluffy texture gliding over his neck. It sent him into another fit of giggles. There seemed to be no end of ticklish spots on the kid.
“You know, this is so much fun, I dont think I’ll ever let you go! I’m gonna keep you here with me. Whenever I'm feeling a bit stressed or had a bad day, I’ll just work it out by tickling YOU. I’m gonna use you as my stress toy. You seem to be doing a good job at it.”
Cricket froze despite everything. Stuck here?! With Chip?! He wouldn't last! He’d go crazy in just a day! He was already, the idea of being tickled endlessly was too much!
Chip smirked, clicking his fingers as if he had found the idea of the century. He grinned. The thought of keeping Cricket tied up and pleading for mercy as he returned home after a day of hard work only to relieve all his stress by squeezing and tormenting him. It would be such bliss.
He could almost taste the sweetness of his revenge. He could not even consider letting Cricket go. With Cricket out of the game and his family depressed, he would finally crush the Greens completely. Chip could picture it. Wholesome Foods. His return to the city with the mayor himself greeting him.
His produce would be sold everywhere. Supermarkets. He would take over the farmer’s market. Pictures of Wholesome Foods and him would be on every billboard. He would be the king and face of Big City. And the Greens would be desolate beggars looking up to him - like scurrying rats.
“I’m gonna take everything from you and your pathetic family.” Chip said, face turning cold. Maybe he would pay Gwendolyn for more devices to torture the boy. It would be hilarious to see the farmer boy tickled every day.
The cold look soon turned into a very unnerving bright one. “I was gonna keep my special moves for later but like my old man used to say ‘Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today’.”
“W-Wait! Waahahha! Stopahah! P-Pleaheeeseee!” Cricket squealed, hot tears spilling out of his eyes. Chip’s fingers wiggled against the side of his belly, then danced all the way to his armpits. Cricket winced and tried to block Chip’s fingers, trying to bite his fingers a few times to no avail. Chip even flicked his forehead in retaliation.
Cricket’s fingers opened and closed rapidly, flexing as the sensations danced on his skin.
“Oh I won't show you any mercy! You took everything from me, you little piggy! Now I’m gonna make you squeal like one.”
"PftHAhAHahaAHAHAha! ! Puahahaha! C-Can’t Hehheeeee!?” Cricket hurt from laughing so much, it felt like his sides were splitting. His entire body trembled with tingles. The sensation was overwhelming.
He couldn't even pretend to fight back anymore. Chip had won, he had broken the kid. And now all Cricket could do was beg and plead for mercy.
Which was not going to come.
“No no nono!” Cricket squeaked as Chip’s fingers left his armpits and moved back to scratch the sole of his feet. That seemed to be the boy’s most ticklish spot, so Chip was going to use that to its full potential in making the kid scream. His toes furled, thighs shaking. Chip ran the feather around his big toe, dipping into the arches and the crevices. His heels and toes were pinched and squeezed. He was going insane from the never ending tickles.
“P-Plaheasee! L-Let me goaha! Too muc-ahahaha!”
“Nope.” Chip grinned and curled his fingers behind Cricket’s ears, brushing the sensitive skin. He used the feather to swipe under Cricket’s chin, making him hunch up his shoulders and squirm.
“Hieeee! Hehehehehe! N-oteheehe there! Ahahahaha! Oh! OH Pleaseeee not there!” Cricket pleaded, laughing and crying. His belly hurt and his cheeks were soaked with tears of laughter, red in the face from it all.
“Why should I?” Chip lightly scratched his neck and under his chin with a nasty grin, stopping to move under his armpit again. He slid his thumb along Cricket’s arm, massaging the ticklish spot until Cricket was sputtering nonsense. “Kitchy kitchy koo! Tickle tickle widdle Cricket!”
Cricket was petrified and confused. He was laughing but it was so humiliating. How long could this go on for? He really did think he was going to lose his mind, it tickled so badly, unable to think clearly.
“Haha! This is so much better than I imagined. This is how I’m gonna be spending my weekends! Take this!” He wriggled his fingers up and down, eliciting more hysterical cries from the ten year old.
Chip’s laugh was cut short when all of a sudden, a crashing noise resonated. Debris went flying. His body was sent crashing into the opposite wall. A happy bark was heard. Chip’s jaws fell to the ground as he saw the rest of the wretched Green family barging inside. He was not even allowed a nanosecond to say his snarky insults when Bill Green’s hands were wrapped around his collar.
His body was lifted from the ground and his face hit the wall - repeatedly.
“Ouch! Ah! St-Stop you bor- Ouch!” Bill showed no mercy as he bashed the hateful man for kidnapping his son. Gramma jumped from the pile of debris and began to kick Chip in his shins.
“That’s for taking my grandson! Take this you monster!” She whacked the bad man with her stick.
Bill’s fist connected with Chip’s jaw, delivering a punch hard enough it made a vicious cracking sound.
“You no good, kidnapping, scum suckin-” Bill grunted, going full papa wolf mode.
Bill threw the man against the wall, glaring at him.
“You’re more rotten than a tomato left on a garbage heap! You’re lower than a snake’s hiney!” He muttered as he delivered another solid punch.
“Ahhhh!” Chip screamed as his teeth cracked.
“Cricket!” Nancy ran to rescue her son. She tried to open the locks but noticed the fingerprint lock. “Are you okay darling? Are you hurt?”
Chip’s guards appeared from behind them and Nancy wasted no time in kicking their asses. She punched the first one, kicked the second and karate-chopped the third. Their dog, Phoenix bit one of the bodyguard’s legs as he tried to shake her off while screaming.
“Good girl.” Tilly said as she patted the Phoenix’s head.
Cricket watched the entire scene unfold with his mouth agape in surprise. It was like they had appeared just when he needed them the most, his prayers had been answered.
“I thought he was all hat and no cattle but who would have thought eh?” Bill sighed as he dragged the battered Chip and pressed his limp finger to remove the lock. His nose was broken, teeth busted (that same old spot especially which always broken off when tangling with the family, like a curse), and a giant bruise was forming around his left eye. He groaned softly, murmuring incomprehensible threats under his breaths as Bill threw him on the floor like a sack of potatoes.
“Don’t ever come near my family again Chip.” Bill warned, before he smiled at his son.
“You, young man, scared the darn livin’ daylights out of me!”
At last, Cricket was free.
“Woohoo! Mom! Dad!” Cricket hurrayed as he jumped off the stocks.
“Let’s go home.” Tilly said as she hugged her brother. “Phoenix deserves a treat.”
—------------------------------------------------------------
The usual pandemonium filled the Green household. All the members sat at the round table in the kitchen. Cricket had been coddled by Nancy all the way back and now it was Bill’s turn. He fussed over the boy to see if a single hair strand was amiss on his head. If he had been hurt, Bill would go find that Chip Whistler again. Of course, he couldn’t refrain from giving Cricket a good telling- off.
“Good thing nothin’ really bad happened. You ain’t careful ‘nough silly boy!” Bill huffed. His knuckles had turned red where he had beaten Chip into pulp.
“I’m ‘kay dad.” Cricket smiled, sipping on the glass of juice Tilly brought to him.
“So how did y’all find me? I thought I was gonna be trapped there forever!” Cricket inquired curiously.
Tilly smiled and pointed to Phoenix.
“Our hero. Tilly got the idea to use Phoenix to smell your trail. That’s how we found you.”
Phoenix would know her boy's scent anywhere, and that was how they were able to find Cricket, even with the camouflaging technology.
“Phoenix’s a knight in fluffy armour” Tilly said proudly and fed her a treat. Gloria stayed for long enough to check if Cricket was alright. She gave him a smile and a pat on his shoulders before retreating to her little man cave.
“Oh! I knew Phoenix was very smart! Thank you Phoenix. I love you so much!” Cricket said, brimming with his usual energy. The red dog within reach, Cricket placed both hands on her face and gave her a loving ruffle. “Who's the best girl, huh? You are, yes you!”
“Oh we had the neighbours' so worried. Make sure you go thank ‘em tomorrow boy.” Bill hummed as he ruffled Cricket’s head. When his fingers scratched the back of his head, right above the nape, Cricket couldn’t help but giggle. However his voice was slightly croaky and Bill immediately felt bad.
“Oh son, you alright?” He asked, thinking about all the evil things Chip must have done. That tickle session must have been so tormenting.
“Oh honey, does it hurt somewhere?” Nancy asked softly.
“Pfff! Puhlease! That beaver face didn't scare me. It was no biggie. I handled it like a big strong man.”
Nancy and Bill sighed, happy to have their son safe and sound. He merely seemed a little fazed. Still, they both knew just how ticklish their son was, that had to be a nightmare situation to find himself in.
“You don't hav’ta put on a brave face, son. If it were that bad, you can say so. Ain't nothing to be ashamed of.” Bill coaxed gently. His fearsome appearance gone, he was back to his soft dad mode.
Cricket let out a lil laugh and waved his hand dismissively. “C’mon dad, it was just a lil tickling! I could handle it.”
Nancy moved closer to Cricket, hands pulled into claws. She smiled at her son before her hands gently skimmed his side. Cricket squirmed back and drew his lips into a pout.
“Oh can you now?” She grinned as she wiggled her fingers against his side and slid them up his armpits. Cricket squealed and burst into a fit of giggles. His facial expressions and laughter was enough to make everyone grin from ear to ear.
“Ahhahahaha! Mom! Stop hieee!” He hiccuped and ran to his dad for help. Bill grinned like a cheshire cat before scooping Cricket into his arms.
“Aw no! Dad! No hehehehe!” His fingers tickled Cricket’s belly, making him laugh uncontrollably.
“Hehehe, still as ticklish as I remember!” Bill chuckled as Nancy joined and tickled Cricket’s feet. She gave them a gentle skitter with her fingers - something she always did when Cricket was a baby and watched him coo and gurgle happily.
“Looks like someone's widdle feetsies are still tickly!” Nancy teased, tickling his squirming toes.
“MOMMMAAHAHahAha!!” Cricket giggled, blushing a bright pink and squirming harder than ever as his parents teased him silly, it was so embarrassing. He squirmed and wriggled like crazy trying to get free, but remained firmly stuck in his dad’s arms. “O-Oh c'mon lemme gohohohohohoo!”
“Awww but you're so CUTE like this.” Bill teased with a grin, his fingers squirming all around Cricket’s belly, finding all his weak spots which, as a dad, he knew by heart.
“Ahahah!” Cricket managed to wiggle out of Bill’s hold and tried to run for cover only to get caught again. His parents tickled him to the ground. Tilly, who was sitting by the kitchen table with Saxon, couldn’t help but giggle as she hugged him. She gave Saxon a little scratch to the belly and murmured, “Do you like tickles too Saxon? It is a good way for friends and family to bond, and it’s proven smiling and laughing increases endorphins.”
“You little squirmy bug! You little wriggly worm!” Nancy teased playfully while she and Bill tickled Cricket, the small boy trapped between them and wriggling about on the ground, while they tickled him randomly at any spot they could reach. Armpits, tummy, sides, kicking feet.
“I’mmm gonna getcha! I’mmmm gonna getcha!” Bill sing-sang with a grin.
Cricket laughed and unlike Chip’s torture, this felt genuinely good. No one was out to make him suffer, it was just his family teasing him and playing. It gave him butterflies. It made him happy. Even when he squirmed and wiggled around, he knew no one would hurt him. Here, he was safe and loved.