Matt sat at the table with the rest of his family, listening as each name was read aloud and what exactly his dad had left each of his ba-jillion children. After 14 marriages, 37 kids (in random amounts from each wife) and more grandkids than any one person should ever want to have, the final piece of the estate was relatively small for each person. Dad had never been wealthy anyway with so many mouths to feed. He was an eccentric genius though and still managed to have enough to keep everyone fed, houses covered and clothes on their backs.

Matt could only remember one serious conversation with his dad. It was on a fishing trip and his dad had tried to slip away from “the crowd” (i.e. the family) and have some time to himself. Matt had followed and they had a great time for at least 7 minutes before the shouts for parental guidance were once again heard over the murmuring of many voices in a cacophony of sound. His dad sighed and said “one day our time here will come back to you. Always remember, even though I can’t spend much time with any of you, I still care about all of you and one day this time will be worth something to you” with a wink and a nod. With that, he was gone to see what family emergency had arisen.

“A bucket?” one of the children was saying. “That’s all he left me?” Matt’s thoughts turned back to the present. He realized each of his siblings seemed to be affixed with soured expressions as they heard what they got.

Janine was lamenting over a baseball glove. Tobey was crying about a rake. Martha screamed at a pair of fuzzy dice.

And sure enough, Matt’s turn came and the fishing lure that he “inherited” was enough to put a small frown on his face. He stormed out of the room and jumped in his car, ready to forget about his dad and his promiscuous ways. The fishing must have been on his mind as he drove straight to that pond and was pacing over the exact site before he knew it.

His mood was broken when he spotted a small silver handle, nestled in the reeds. He pulled a box out of the reeds and opened it up. A wad of cash was inside with a note that only said “Matt… Love, Dad.”

Matt’s eyes grew wide as he started trying to remember where Janine had played baseball with their dad… and where Tobey had done yardwork with him. And where Martha had ridden in the car. He wondered if he could make it to each of those spots before they did.

And what in the world did someone do with a bucket? Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

"I don't understand?"

Bunny held the knife close to his neck, feeling the rhythm of Clyde's pulse against the blade.

"Nothing to understand, meat. You've been running up a long debt and my boss ain't any kind of benny-factor, ya see?"

Jim "Bunny" Bunnelton didn't like dealing with little problems. If he was going to be anyone in this organization, he needed to be the guy that dealt with big problems. And this little spit wasn't no big problem.

Clyde moaned a little and tried to shrink away from the blade. "Seriously, sir, I can get the money. Please."

Bunny sighed. "Please? See, you been saying please for a while now and my boss is tired of hearin it. Boss says two days, you got two days."

Bunny traced a small line along Clyde's adam's apple and a small trickle of blood started to flow.

"No no no nononononon! I got the money! I GOT THE MONEY" the last coming out as a screech.

Bunny leaned in close to the little spit's ear, close enough to take a bite. "Where?"

Clyde brought up a shaking arm and pointed to the trunk of his car. "In the trunk, I was on my way over, honest."

With one hand holding the knife to the kid's throat, Bunny grabbed Clyde's shoulder and hauled him up off the chair. "Well, let's just see together." They slid over to the car, like a obligatory tango.

Clyde opened the trunk, revealing a large duffle bag, two small suitcases and a little boy holding a toy gun.

"What's this? Jack in the..."

Clyde slapped a hand to his temple and swore. "Cutting it kind of close there, eh?"

"Sorry dad" the boy said, climbing over the luggage. " Still a clear shot."

Clyde picked his son out of the trunk then hauled Bunny into it. He slammed it shut.

"Now, let's get home before your mother kills me."

"Want me to get back in the trunk?"

He ruffled his son's hair and chuckled. "Not today, son, not today."