A Natalie Grace Mystery: The Trap Door in the McDonald's

13-year-old Natalie Grace, professional rabble-rouser and amateur gumshoe, stamped her foot and pouted in defiance.

"I am not going in that icky playpen" said Natalie, "it's so gross, and I'm way too old now."

"Honey, I need you to go in there to watch Hannah," her mother replied, "she wants to play, and I don't want her wandering off or getting kidnapped."

"M-o-m! Why can't you do it?" Asked the precocious Natalie Grace.

"Mommy is busy right now, sweetie" said her mother, who did not looked up from her laptop.

Natalie stamped her foot again, and folded her arms tightly. Her brow furrowed and her mouth twisted into a nasty frown. After a moment passed in silence - save her mother's key tapping - she let out an angry blast of air from her nose as though she were an enraged bull. Hannah, with the blank look of an innocent caught in the crossfire, tugged on her mother's pant leg.

"Natalie H Grace, you get in that playpen with your sister right now, or you won't like what happens next!" Said her mother.

"We're both going eaten by a CANNIBAL, and then you'll be sorry!" Natalie whined.

***********

The playpen was a greasy affair, with that signature mystery smell common to all such places that seems familiar but can't be placed.

Natalie Grace sat in a corner with her arms around her knees and slipped into a fantasy where her real parents - whom she was certain were actually famous pop singers from France - arrived at the McDonald's to take her away. As these imaginary parents dragged her out of the eatery to a glamorous future, her current (impostor) mother broke down in tears and begged for forgiveness.

Natalie realized that the thought of having pop star parents was nowhere near as satisfying as having her mom feel badly, so she ditched the pop star story and came up with some new scenarios. One involved her becoming rich and not giving anything to her mother, who had to move to a trailer park and buy generic cereal. In another, she contracted a terrible disease inside the play area, to which her mother sobbingly confessed her responsibility. Natalie, in this hypothetically scenario, spat "I don't forgive you" with her dying breath, to her mother's banshee wail of sorrow and regret.

***********

Meanwhile, Hannah Grace was busy burrowing through a pit of plastic balls. Diving deep into uncharted territories unknown to adult, she explored the fantastic floor of the plastic ocean. As she surveyed the sticky topography of the ball sea, she found a latch. With some investigation, Hannah saw that she had found a hidden trap door. After fidgeting with it for some time, it popped open with a snap.

Hannah heard some rustling coming from the dark room below, then a confused growl. Suddenly, she was looking at the fearsome face of a strange man. He had dreadlocks and an unruly beard, both crawling with lice, and eyes that were black and blood-shot. His nose was broken and pierced with what looked like a human bone, and he had a necklace made of what looked like ribs. He let out an evil belly-laugh, exposing his crooked yellowed teeth. The stench of his breath was unbearable.

Hannah screamed and leapt back. With a roar the strange man clambered up from the secret room and trudged through the ball pit after her.

"Ah was just thinkin' ah could go for wee snack!" The man muttered in a heavy Scottish accent.

The man grabbed Hannah by the leg and dragged her back toward his lair. He was climbing down the hole when he was clobbered across the back of the head. Dazed, he turned around to see Natalie Grace, swinging a heavy "Dora the Explorer" backpack above her head. The cannibal Scot let go of the still-squirming Hannah's leg to take a swing at his attacker. Natalie deftly dodged his punch and let loose another devastating blow from her trusty backpack. The man swayed woozily, and then fell down the hole with a crash.

***********

"Take 'em away, boys," said Constable Greywhisker to the policemen who were handcuffing the cannibal and restaurant manager. He turned to Natalie Grace.

"Miss Grace, I don't how, but sure as the sweat on the brow of an Okie you've done it again! Tell me one more time how you figured this one out."

"Simple deduction, my dear Constable." Said Natalie, who was puffing on a bubble pipe. "750 thousand children go missing every year in the USA, where there are 13 thousand McDonald's restaurants. What do you think is happening to these kids? Every year the number of missing children goes up, as does the number of McDonald’s restaurants across the nation. "

"Ah, but how did you deduct that McDonald's was the culprit, and not another expansive franchise such as Starbucks or Ikea?" Asked Greywhisker.

"Well, originally I wasn't sure who was behind it." Explained Natalie, "Then I realized that McDonald's is the only chain in America owned and operated by the filthy Scottish. Now, everyone knows about the Scots and their insatiable hunger for human flesh, particularly the tender meat of the young. However, no one had ever thought of this as an explanation for the vast number of yearly child disappearances. The idea that every McDonald's in the nation has a secret room housing a single Scot cannibal came to me a a flash of sudden synthesis. If you do the math you'll find out that they are each eating just slightly above one child every week, on average- just enough to satisfy the appetite of those contemptible Scots. I took a look at the placement of McDonald’s restaurants nation-wide and compared it to the centers where the most children have gone missing, which confirmed my suspicions."

"So then you marched down here and exposed the underground child-eating scam personally." Marveled the Constable, "Incredible!"

"That's not what happened at all!" Natalie's mother exclaimed, "I practically had to force her into that playpen. And it was her little sister Hannah that opened the trap door."

"Outrageous!" Cried Constable Greywhisker, "How a ridiculous liar of such low worth as you managed to produce the exemplary Natalie Grace, I'll never know."

"Mom, I did too know about the murdering Scottish cannibals," whined Natalie, "you're embarrassing me in front of the Constable!"

Just then the Constable's phone rang.

"Mr. President?" ----- "Oh?" ------ "Why yes, she's right here."

Greywisker's moustache twitched in giddy anticipation as he handed the phone to Natalie.

"This is a great day for justice and freedom, Natalie Grace, and we have you to thank!" The President said, "We're going to send you and your entire family on an all-expenses-paid trip to the moon as an award for your service to this fair nation."

"Oh, thank you Mr. President." said Natalie, "Only, is it okay if I leave my mom back on earth and take the Constable instead?"



Natalie's mom was very sorry.