Carl quickly crawls under the couch, luckily his tiny body is able to fit under it, as the door is kicked in and the SWAT-Team barges into the room, guns ready, “HANDS UP,” they all shout, before realizing that the room is empty. “God damn it,” one officer exclaims, “he must have bolted when we arrived,” the officer talking seems to be the leader, because he looks at his Team mates and says, “don't anyone DARE say anything,” and there is a snicker to be heard from one of the officers.
“Boss,” the officer says, “we told you hundreds of times: you don't need to shout orders when we are right beside you. Every single criminal we chased bolts the second they hear your boombox of a voice.”
The others laugh, “watch it Jason,” the leader says, “I am not in the effing mood, I might just stuff your mouth!”
Jason, the officer who had talked up, raises his hands, “sorry boss,” he says.
The boss sighs, “alright, search the apartment for intel,” he says, “he must have left enough evidence behind, we'll get him sooner or later.”
The officers look at each other, instead of saying anything they just roll their eyes, as if to say, “yeah... right... that is what you say every time.” So, instead they say, “yes, sir,” and start to search the apartment.
Carl has his hand over his mouth, muffling his giggle at the argument of the officers, 'man, that team leader sure is dumber than Goofy from Mickey Mouse,' he thinks to himself. The former grown up blinks, 'why did I just think of “Goofy”? Did the transformation effect my mind,' he asks himself. Suddenly a huge boot stomps down into his vision, this causes Carl to let out a gasp of shock, he quickly covers his mouth and holds his breath.
“Wait,” a officer says, “did you guys hear that?”
The room falls silent, it is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, “no,” the others sigh, “what did you hear?”
“Something that sounded like a child gasping,” the officer right in front of the couch replies, his rising his gun.
“Bullshit,” the team leader says, “Mr. Dunham has no kids, he does not even have a girlfriend, at least that is what our sources say.”
The officer continues to listen, “maybe,” he mumbles, “who does not say it could be a kid he is looking after, maybe from a relative or neighbor.”
“Don't be silly,” the team leader says, “our source says, he never talks with neighbors and never leaves his apartment, only to get groceries.”
Carl is starting to panic, he is also starting to shake out of fear of being discovered, even tears start to form in his eyes. 'Pl-please... j-just go away,' the “boy” thinks to himself, suddenly a piece of dust tickles his nose, and he feels the urge to sneeze building and becoming stronger, 'no... nonononono.'
“Come on,” the team leader then says, “we have got his Laptop and notes. Let's get out of here and study these evidences, maybe we'll find out his next hit and get him there.”
Carl watches, his nose itching and the urge of wanting to sneeze growing, as the officers leave his apartment one by one. Just as the last officer is about to leave, Carl is unable to hold back the sneeze, “AAAAAATSHUUUUU!”
“YOU HEAR THAT,” the officer shouts, Carl hears heavy boots come running towards the couch, “IT CAME FROM UNDER THE COUCH!”
To his shock, the couch is yanked up and thrown on it back, when Carl looks up he is terrified when he stares into the barrels of six AR 15s. The sight of the intimidating officers and the guns pointing at him somehow causes Carl's fear to grow, normally he would have no problem, if he were still a grown up, he'd simply would give up, maybe mock the officers, calling them names or anything else which would make his situation even worse. But instead of feeling brave, he feels scared, so scared that his body reacts just like any other child's body would, he feels himself peeing his pants out of fear, this causes the “young boy” to start to cry, “pl-please...,” he says in a scared and quiet voice, “please... d-don't hurt me!”
After the first shock, the leader immediately orders the guns lowered, “lower your weapons, men,” he says, “it is just a scared little boy. We shouldn't make it worse.”
The officers lower their weapons, they look at each other, then down at the sobbing “boy”, unsure what to do. Jason decides to try and calm the boy down, he has two young sons himself, so he should be able to win the boy's trust. He kneels down and, in a quiet and calm voice, asks, “who the hell are you, kid? What are you doing here?”