Just Don't Feed Him After Midnight...

After a long day of running summer school programs, a weary mother returns home to prepare the family supper and complete all chores needed to make the next day run smoothly. As she works on these tasks, her youngest takes on a project of his own, complete destruction of all domicile common areas. 

After clawing desperately to her last remaining shreds of sanity, a young frazzled mother turns to an unlikely ally: a tranquilizer dart gun that her sister had lent her early in the week. Her husband objects to her ideas, but upon threats of inviting her sister over for dinner he reluctantly rolls over on his resistance under one circumstance; the offense must not take place until he has left the vicinity of the scene in order to protect his ethical responsibilities to the community. With the baby's father safely in the garage, baby momma unloads a small yet high powered dart into her baby's bum.

With the young beast sleeping peacefully, the family goes about its normal routine, undisturbed. They enjoy a quiet dinner and all chip in to clean the earlier fall out. Weary from a long day, the family drags to bed, forgetting the resting monger in the middle of the living room. But alas, the baby wakes. Confused and hungry, he moves to the kitchen, spinning the lazy susan to the first available jar of fluffernutter and inhaling the heavenly white goo ravenously. Suddenly, the baby's tummy begins to rumble. He crawls to the oven and glances at his face in the glass. He notices a stark white streak of hair running down the center of his head. Frightened, he whirls around and looks at his fluff covered hands only to see green claws and scaly skin....the baby realizes what he has done....he glances at the clock and reads the time...12:05 am....he looks one more time to the oven glass and sees the dastardly results of his late night feeding...

The baby considers his first instinctive emotional response: fear; but then, reconsiders. He now embodies many of the powers necessary to propel his raging destruction! Imagine the fear in the hearts of brother, mother and father!! Who could possibly tell him what to do NOW?! The baby jumps up with glee. He begins to charge towards the family sleeping area when he trips and finds himself rolling across the kitchen upon his beloved jar of fluff. The baby struggles to maintain his footing but is unaccustomed to these new claw ridden feet. He loses his balance and falls to the floor, bumping his head and crinkling his large ear. 

As the baby lies on the floor trying to assess the damage incurred in the fall, he smells something delicious...mother's cooking!! The feels a familiar happy warmth on his head...blankey? He feels the cool reminder of a juice demanded earlier in the evening resting between his arms....is it possible that the baby dreamed this whole event? The tranq dart? The fluff? The transformation?? Or did mommy utilize her one remaining dose of anti gremlin serum just in time to save the earth from gremmy take over???? I guess we'll never know...