Freegans part 4

Matt
It's about time that I got my chance to speak. Girls always have this annoying habit of monopolizing the conversation, and not allowing you to get a word in edge-ways. The only one I've met yet who doesn't do that is Cara. In fact, she hardly ever says anything. That's probably why she's one of my best friends. She doesn't talk too much.

Regardless, I woke up the next morning raring to go. I left a note for Dad on the table, since he was still asleep with a bad hangover. He is without a doubt the worst Freegan, and the biggest drunk, I have ever met. It's a wonder that we're related. I went down to Cara and Lucy's house, and found them finishing breakfast. I thought of pulling my police trick again, but decided that I didn't want to have my nose broken. Even though they're tiny, Cara has some of the hardest fists in the world. Lucy's aren't too bad either.

We went off to the dump, with Danielle running ahead. She was seriously deluding herself thinking that she was going to find any red tap shoes, unless they had some sequins broken off, or something. Gas-guzzlers rarely throw stuff away unless a catastrophe like that happens. The three of us walked together like civilized people. We didn't have much to say, so I mostly just thought (believe it or not, I actually do think sometimes). I remembered what Lucy's parents had been talking about last night, about Mr. McTavish trying to get more gas-guzzlers to join us. It's not as impossible as it seems; once every few years there actually are a few kind, generous, intelligent city people born who care about the environment. But not very often. It's almost like President Sheldon brainwashes everyone into shopaholics and morons.

At the dump, we began to search around, looking for anything else useful or cool. I picked up some weird contraption that looked kind of like a multi-armed miniature windmill with paintbrushes on the ends. "What's this for?" I asked aloud.
"I think that's used to paint your nails," said Lucy. Both Cara and I made disgusted faces at the notion. For those of you who haven't noticed, Cara's not really a girly-girl. I chucked the nail-painter back on the pile, and picked up an old hairbrush with a few bristles moving. I was considering it, when I noticed Cara's newest find. She had lifted up out of the junk a pair of silvery boots. The outsides were made of metal, but the insides were apparently very soft. There were strange circles on the bottoms. Her green eyes were wide with awe.
"I'm keeping these," she abruptly announced. With that, she took off her old sneakers and slipped the boots on. They fit pretty good.

Just then Danielle called to us excitedly. "Hey, look at this!" We ran up, to see her pointing at the top of a particular heap of junk. There was a little toy dog sitting there, head cocked to the side, almost like a real dog. "Isn't it cute?" Danielle cooed. All three of us automatically rolled our eyes. Danielle started forward, scrambling up the heap. It was then that I noticed there was a lead attached to the dog. That instantly set my radar on alert. Why would anyone bother to tie up a toy dog? I could tell that Lucy was concerned too, because she started forward. "Um, Dani? I don't think you should-" She got no further. As soon as her sister lifted the dog, a loud twang was heard, and a big net appeared out of the sky. Acting on instinct, we ran up, pushing Danielle out of the way in time, only to get caught ourselves! We were trapped!