Frankie and the Skittles Factory
And So Our Story Begins...
Frankie was sitting on the couch, watching The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. Suddenly, Gerard, Mikey, Bob, and Ray burst into the room. “WE GOT GOLDEN GUITAR PICKS!”
“Whaa?” Frankie said with a mock crying look on his face.
“Yeah, we’ve got golden guitar picks, and yoooou don’t!”
“Ehh!” Frankie whined as he frowned. “I wanna golden guitar pick!”
“Well TOO BAD!” Gerard teased.
“You’re mean Gerard…” Frank pouted.
“Well go out and buy your own Skittles, you whore,” Bob said.
“Ehh!” Frank repeated. “You’re so MEAN!” He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly. He was in between getting up. The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy was on! But he wanted those Skittles so bad…
A few weeks ago, the widely known Bert McCracken, producer of Skittles, released the news that he was holding a contest to see who could find the five golden guitar picks in five different packets of Skittles. Really unlikely that Gerard, Mikey, Ray, and Bob all found them and they all lived in the same city, but… well, I guess it happens…
Frankie got up off the couch. He had made up his mind. He was going to get that golden guitar pick.
“Where you going?” Gerard asked.
“I’m gonna go find that guitar pick!” Frankie exclaimed. He made his way past Gerard, who was taking upon himself to take up most of the doorway.
Frankie slipped on his hoodie quickly, trying to warm up quickly in the late November weather. He wrapped his arms around his torso. Burr… really cold…
He walked down the slightly snow covered streets to the closest Skittles store. Frankie always thought that was so great. Having a whole store, just dedicated to Skittles. Lovely place.
The bell over the door went off as he walked into the fruit fragranced store.
“Can I help you?” the store attendant asked politely.
“Err, one large packet of Skittles please…” Frankie said while pulling out his wallet.
The attendant pulled at bag off of one of the shelves behind the counter and set it down.
“That’d be $2.99, please.”
Frankie pulled out three dollars from his wallet and threw it on the counter. “Keep the change.” Pfft, yeah… One cent… He picked up his bag of Skittles and walked out of the store.
His mind was racing. Maybe the pick wasn’t in this packet. I mean, the others all found theirs in the same city. It’s really not likely that he would find one too. They probably put it in a far, FAR away country so someone else could have a chance.
He stared at the packet nervously. Should he tear it open? Should he wait till he gets home? Well, I guess there’s no better time than the present…
Frankie slowly torn the packet. So much tension riding up in him. Hoping to find one little hint of the golden guitar pick in the wonderful packet of fruity Skittles.
The final rip was made, letting the fruitfully amazing candy fall through his fingers.
There was red, orange, yellow, green, and purple… But no gold…
Frankie frowned to himself. He started to think to himself that maybe he could go back into the store and demand his money back. No… They wouldn’t let him… They would probably say something like “Sir, you’re not GUARENTEED a golden guitar pick, we can’t give your money back…”
Frankie shoved a handful of the candy in his mouth and made his way back home.
“Whaa?” Frankie said with a mock crying look on his face.
“Yeah, we’ve got golden guitar picks, and yoooou don’t!”
“Ehh!” Frankie whined as he frowned. “I wanna golden guitar pick!”
“Well TOO BAD!” Gerard teased.
“You’re mean Gerard…” Frank pouted.
“Well go out and buy your own Skittles, you whore,” Bob said.
“Ehh!” Frank repeated. “You’re so MEAN!” He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly. He was in between getting up. The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy was on! But he wanted those Skittles so bad…
A few weeks ago, the widely known Bert McCracken, producer of Skittles, released the news that he was holding a contest to see who could find the five golden guitar picks in five different packets of Skittles. Really unlikely that Gerard, Mikey, Ray, and Bob all found them and they all lived in the same city, but… well, I guess it happens…
Frankie got up off the couch. He had made up his mind. He was going to get that golden guitar pick.
“Where you going?” Gerard asked.
“I’m gonna go find that guitar pick!” Frankie exclaimed. He made his way past Gerard, who was taking upon himself to take up most of the doorway.
Frankie slipped on his hoodie quickly, trying to warm up quickly in the late November weather. He wrapped his arms around his torso. Burr… really cold…
He walked down the slightly snow covered streets to the closest Skittles store. Frankie always thought that was so great. Having a whole store, just dedicated to Skittles. Lovely place.
The bell over the door went off as he walked into the fruit fragranced store.
“Can I help you?” the store attendant asked politely.
“Err, one large packet of Skittles please…” Frankie said while pulling out his wallet.
The attendant pulled at bag off of one of the shelves behind the counter and set it down.
“That’d be $2.99, please.”
Frankie pulled out three dollars from his wallet and threw it on the counter. “Keep the change.” Pfft, yeah… One cent… He picked up his bag of Skittles and walked out of the store.
His mind was racing. Maybe the pick wasn’t in this packet. I mean, the others all found theirs in the same city. It’s really not likely that he would find one too. They probably put it in a far, FAR away country so someone else could have a chance.
He stared at the packet nervously. Should he tear it open? Should he wait till he gets home? Well, I guess there’s no better time than the present…
Frankie slowly torn the packet. So much tension riding up in him. Hoping to find one little hint of the golden guitar pick in the wonderful packet of fruity Skittles.
The final rip was made, letting the fruitfully amazing candy fall through his fingers.
There was red, orange, yellow, green, and purple… But no gold…
Frankie frowned to himself. He started to think to himself that maybe he could go back into the store and demand his money back. No… They wouldn’t let him… They would probably say something like “Sir, you’re not GUARENTEED a golden guitar pick, we can’t give your money back…”
Frankie shoved a handful of the candy in his mouth and made his way back home.