Neon Tricycle Syndicate
By @john1208
I didn't expect my second chance at life to start with me furiously pedaling a plastic tricycle away from my evil uncle's attack-poodle. But here I am, a newly enrolled five-year-old kindergartener in 1992, rocking a neon windbreaker and a serious anger management problem. My sweet parents genuinely believe their 'laborer blood' means they are destined to scrub floors for the rich forever. Not on my watch! My first order of business? 'Accidentally' feeding Uncle Hector's predatory scam contracts to the paper shredder because it 'looked hungry.' Next, I threw a massive tantrum until Mom bought a specific scratch-off ticket, winning just enough to pay off our immediate debts. Now, I'm turning our dingy laundromat into a retro-arcade empire, starting with my sandbox turf wars against Julian, the snobby kid who I'm totally going to crush (or maybe marry in twenty years). But things got terrifyingly real when I found a hidden cassette tape recorded by... me. My older self intentionally triggered this rebirth and set this whole timeline up. What exactly is the catastrophic future I'm trying to prevent?
6
