Stevie bolted around the house to find Mr. Gunderson. He had been sure he heard him near his own house. Now coming in sight of the cellar door, he saw no one. Looking carefully back and forth, on guard for ninjas and zombies, he went slinking toward the front of the house. He had just gone beyond the cellar door when he heard a whirring noise from within the cellar. He spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of a strange bug-like shape go flying out over the houses. Bug-like though it was, it was as large as a small dog.
“Flying robots,” he whispered to himself. He wasted no time in running to the front door to look for Mr. Gunderson.
No Mr. Gunderson at the front door. Did he go inside? “Mr. Grunderson!!” he yelled.
Taking a deep breath, Stevie plunged into the house, sure that he would need to go inside to find the hardware store owner. No sooner had he entered than he stopped and began slowly stepping backwards. The thing in front of him stood very very still, its awkward metallic legs propping it an almost comical angle. It cocked its head to the side once, and its two differently shaped eyes swiveled curiously.
Stevie snatched the door handle and pulled, rushing out to the front yard. “Mr. Grunderson! Tom! Anyone!”
There was a whirring noise behind him. He spun around, and a bizarre flying creature that appeared to composed entirely of tools, zipped at him and snatched him up by the shirt. With a wild scream he felt himself lifted of the ground and into the air.