There was once an archeologist wanna-be who became a hero. His name was Bob. This is his story.

Bob’s parents were rich. In fact, they were so rich; the thought of an elevator in the house was quite realistic. So now you think that Bob was living the good life, right? WRONG. Bob was very unlucky as a child. In fact, he was unlucky all his life. He constantly got into brawls with his ravenous older brothers. You see, Bob belongs to a family of 5. He has 3 older brothers and an older sister. His older sister, Stella, is 26 and his older brothers are all 16. Stella, his mom (Pat), and his best friend Lenny are the only people who ever cared about him. Sadly, Stella moved out, his parents are divorced and his mom lives halfway across the world (in Africa), and Lenny died in a car crash. Now there was no one to soothe him after the stampede of 16- year olds. Bob was a helpless 12 year olds.

It was chaos. Screaming, running, fists…….Wait, let me back it up a bit. It was a casual Friday afternoon. Bob was huddled in a corner reading, which was one of the very few things poor Bob excelled at. He was exhausted from running away from his brothers, when suddenly; his brothers punctuated his train of thought. That’s when Bob lost it. He then started a fight with his brothers. Somehow, the boy managed to escape in one piece. This was the origin of his temper.

Bob’s life went uphill from that day. He became a mediocre archeologist. It stayed like this for 25 years. That is when he became a veteran. But sadly, life for Bob was quite monotonous, and he yearned for more action. One day, Bob was precariously standing on the edge of a 5-km deep hole. Suddenly, out of nowhere, his brothers snuck up behind him and pushed him into the hole.

Bob was hospitalized and ended up dying 2 hours later. No one came to his funereal, not even the Priest.

That is the story of the hardy boy named Bob.