“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The boy sneered at the strange man.

“I’m telling you,” he repeated, staring at the boy. “That’s really not a good idea.”

The boy was standing in front of a store, a big sign plastered in the window. The sign read, “Don’t make faces in the window. Continued abuse of this rule will result in Big Mac.” A picture of a giant McDonald’s Big Mac, one of their burgers, followed the text, filling the window.

“Kid. I stand here every day, and I’m trying to tell you. Making faces at that sign isn’t a good idea.”

The kid kept making faces at the window, turning and flipping off the man.

“Suit yourself, kiddo.” The kid turned back to face the window, and that’s when it happened. A bright, blinding flash came from the sign, coating the boy with a white substance, not paint, not toxic, but sticky and gross. From the store door exited a large man, big enough to barely make his way to the sticky child, who was now crying.

“I tried to tell you, kid.” He nodded to the grotesque, sweating man, who snatched the kid from the sticky substance.

“Like to make faces at the sign, do ya?” His nose sounded stuffy and sniffly. He spat a gross-looking substance from his mouth after clearing his throat. “How ya doin’ today, Nicholas?”

“Just fine,” Nicholas said, grinning. “Got another one, I see.”

“Ungrateful little snots, the lot of ‘em.”

“Tell me, what do you do with them? Eat them?”

“Hell no!” the big man shouted. “I call their parents, tell ‘em what an ungrateful brat they be raising, then let their parents pick ‘em up.”

“What do you get out of it, Bob?”

“Me?” He grinned. “Cold hard cash.”

“Isn’t that kidnapping, Bob?”

Bob looked bewildered. “Kidnapping? Ha! If only. They pay me to clean them up, that’s all. They don’t want this sticky mess in their new Mercedes or BMW.”

“You must make a fortune,” Nicholas stated.

Bob shrugged. “Ya. I do alright.” He winked and dragged the kid inside the shop. “Let’s go now, Francis.”

“Francis?” Nicholas asked.

“Yeah. I don’t name ‘em Nicky,” he laughed. “Just cleans ‘em up for Mom’s and Dad’s. That’s all. C’mon with ya. I ain’t gots all day!” He shoved Francis inside the shop, closing the door as the bus pulled up to the stop.

“Bob got another one today?”

Nicholas winked at the driver. “Yeah. I tried to warn the kid.”

“Did he listen?” the driver asked.

“Do they ever?”