Psychopath Strawberry

Psychopath Strawberry

My mom was a scientist who became ill.

While she was ill, a fellow scientist named Larry made a toxic fume while trying to develop a cure for cancer. It drove him and the other scientists in the lab crazy.

Now, the scientists wanted to develop new ways of hurting people!

“We’re going to get rich,” said Larry, their crazy leader, during a conference call to my mom. “Get well and get back here as soon as you can, so you can help us.”

The plan was to sell a batch of ice cream that tasted great but made other people crazy, too.

It was all wrong. The world felt like it was going crazy.

“You’ve got to stop him,” my mom said to me.

She was in bed with the flu.

“How?” I said.

She coughed up mucous, sneezed, and blew her nose in a tissue.

“Here, take this,” she said, handing me the dirty tissue. “Put my snot in the coffee at the lab. Then steal the samples of the toxic fume. Bring them to me. I’ll figure out what to do.”

“Great,” I said.

I put on my mom’s dress and sunglasses, and I fixed up my hair. I grabbed her badge off her night stand and looked at myself in the mirror.

“You’re my spitting image,” my mom said with a snotty laugh. “Good luck, dear.”


I ditched my bike outside the lab and flashed my badge at a security guard. He waved me inside.

“Welcome back,” said a tall man with a weird grin. “How are you feeling?”

I looked at his name tag. It was crazy Larry.

“Better,” I said. “I just need some coffee.”

“We have a fresh pot brewing in the break room,” he said. “Grab a cup, then meet me in my office. I want to tell you about our new ice cream. We’re going to call it Psychopath Strawberry!”

“Cool name,” I said. “I’m sure a lot of people will like it.”

“That’s the idea,” Larry said.

In the break room, I put my mom’s snot into the pot of coffee. I also rubbed it along the rim of the clean cups.

I filled one of the cups with coffee and roamed around the lab with a weird grin on my face, like a mad scientist. Everyone seemed happy to see me.

“Sick!” I overheard someone say. “Our star has returned. Now we’ll really make some mayhem in the world!”

Finally, I found the samples of the toxic fume. I stuffed them into my lab coat.

It was time to get away from this creepy place.

I turned a corner in the hallway. Larry blocked my path.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he said with his weird grin.

“Yes,” I said, handing him the cup of coffee. “This is for you. I have to go home. Now my daughter has the flu! Good luck selling your insane ice cream. You should add cashews, to make it nuttier.”

“Great idea!” Larry said with a weird laugh. “I love the way you think. Maybe you should take a batch of Psychopath Strawberry to your daughter. It might make her feel better …”

“Another time, gotta run!” I said.


At home, my mom felt better.

“I’m so glad you’re home safe,” she said, hugging me. “How’d it go?”

I gave her the samples.

“Perfect,” she said, stuffing them into her purse. “I know just what to do.”


The next day, my mom called me from work. I was stuck at home, with the flu.

So were the other scientists. Everyone called in sick, except her.

“Thanks to you,” my mom said, “I had time to find a cure for the toxic fume. I poured it into the air vents. My fellow scientists will return to work and be back to their old selves soon. Psychopath Strawberry will be like a bad dream that never happened.”

“I’m so happy to hear it,” I said from bed, on the phone. “Are you and the other scientists going to keep trying to cure cancer?”

“Of course, but first I’m coming home, to cure you,” my mom said. “Would you like me to bring you some ice cream?”

I laughed.

“Sure,” I said. “Just nothing with strawberries, or nuts.”


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