Chapter 18 by madrift

Did I hear pop-tarts?

You did.

John loved pop-tarts. He almost never had any, since he rarely went outside the house, and didn't have the money to spend on them when he did. His stepmom never allowed him any at meals, since they surpassed the minimum standards of his father's will, making them an extra expense she didn't need to waste money on.

For him.

John pulled on his boxers and sweatpants, donned a t-shirt and sweatshirt, said "Clean Me" to his reflection in the east wall mirrors (removing a few stains), and headed for the stairs up. As he went, he pondered his reaction to the carrot of a couple pop-tarts.

By his stepmother's rules, his sisters had to maintain their figures, but they got far more exercise in a day. As a result, they had access to more food in much larger variety than he did. His occasional "treats" were used by his stepfamily as lures when they really needed him to do something.

Sometimes he felt like a caged half-trained pet or something. Although that was partially his own fault, he didn't HAVE to stay in the house all day. It was just that he didn't have any reasons to leave, all the fun parts of his life were accessed via his computer, and he could escape things when he dove into it.

Also, Jane wouldn't let him back in until bedtime if he did leave the house, citing some part of his father's will about "job hunting". He wasn't any too clear on it, and hadn't asked any lawyers for second opinions. He didn't really want to go outside anyway.

Or at least he hadn't, before The Rulebook.

Now though, a plethora of possibilities were open to him. So long as he avoided the traps Aidea mentioned.