Monthly Archives: December 2017


Takeover At The Toymart

Sgt. Paul Curran got the phone call about the hostage situation. “Milford Police Department. Sgt. Curran,” he said. “This is a recorded line.”

“Recorded?” the childlike voice responded. “Oh, I. . . I didn’t know that.” He spoke to someone with him. “I’m being recorded,” he said, impressed. “Pretty neat, huh?”

“This is Sgt. Curran. May I help you?”

“I’m calling to. . . to let you know that my friends and I have taken over the Toymart at the mall,” the caller said. “We have hostages, but we don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Good. We don’t want you to hurt anyone either,” Curran told him. “What’s your name?”

“My. . . name?”

“Yes. I’d like to know what to call you.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Uhm. . . hold on a minute.” He put a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece and talked to his companion. “He wants to know my name.”

“So tell him,” a deeper, authoritative voice responded.

“But I don’t know what it is,” the caller said. “Do you?”

“How should I know?” The deep-voiced kidnapper was flabbergasted. “You really don’t know your name?”

“Uh uh.”

“Weren’t you ever curious?”

“Not really. It never came up in conversation with my shelfmates.”

“Look at your tag.”

“Oh yeah!”

“Hello?” Curran said, confused.

“Can you read it?”

“Just barely,” the caller replied, straining. “They put it by my bum for some reason. Why would they do that, Boscoe?”

“Forget about where it is,” Boscoe replied. “What does it say?”

“R-e-x,” he answered, struggling to read the tag. “Rex.”

“Then that’s your name. Tell the officer.”

“Rex? I don’t feel like a Rex. Do I look like a Rex?”

“You’re tying up the line.”

“Sorry for the delay,” he said into the phone’s mouthpiece. “My name is Rex.”

“Rex?” Curran asked.

“That’s what it says on my tag.”

“Your. . . tag?”

“I’m also 60% rayon, if that’s important.”

“Rex,” the sergeant asked, “who are you?”

“I told you: My name is Rex,” he said. “I’m a teddy bear.”

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