"He's going to blow a gasket," Sam chuckled, dusting chalk off his hands.
As they disappeared into the darkness of Miller’s Lane, the sound of popping bubbles continued, followed by the rare, rhythmic sound of an old man finding his inner child. naughty little teens
Mr. Henderson jumped, a sound somewhere between a yelp and a harrumph escaping him. He looked down, seeing the neon hopscotch trail glowing under his porch light. He took a cautious step forward. Pop! "He's going to blow a gasket," Sam chuckled,
The boys froze. They didn't run—not yet. They watched from the shadows of a large hydrangea bush as the elderly man stepped onto his driveway. Crunch. Pop! Pop-pop! "He's going to blow a gasket