I hadn't had an encounter with THE BOX in a month and a half. I had kinda forgotten about its existence. And then last night it reared its ugly cardboard face once again.
I went to open a drawer and it would hardly budge. I stuck my hand in the small opening and pushed down the binder that was blocking it from opening completely.
When the drawer opened I was shocked to see THE BOX leap out at me. Using my lightning-fast reflexes, I ducked out of the way as THE BOX came crashing into the wall. Getting that fixed is going to be expensive.
I think THE BOX must have sensed that the rectangular hole in the wall peeved me, because it changed its tactics, and instead of attacking me it destroyed my personal property. Not cool bud.
I watched in horror as THE BOX jumped onto my shelves and knocked over all my autographed baseballs and bobbleheads. Thankfully none of them were damaged, but it was still pretty rude.
As I was pondering how it's possible that I got stuck with the evil sentient box, it made another move, knocking all my lego sets that I had since I was a child onto the floor. Growing up with numerous siblings, I was surprised they lasted that long anyway, but my years of hard work preserving them was in serious danger.
Once THE BOX turned to my library is when I got particularly mad (library meaning a shelf of books). I was gonna maybe possibly read some of those books some day.
I lunged at THE BOX. It wasn't ready for my attack; I suppose boxes think they can destroy personal property without any consequence. Ain't no way.
Being a human being, superior to a box, and especially since I had caught it by surprise, it wasn't much of a fight.
When the cops showed up to take THE BOX away, I was able to grab a single card from its disgustingly unbrushed maw.
As the police lights faded into the distance, I looked down at the card I rescued. I was surprised to see the face of....
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