What started out as another normal day, soon turned into the worst day in history. The house was silent. Overcast, cloudy outside. A small crack in the top left of the ceiling ran along the top four edges at top speed. RRRIIIPPP, the top of the house joined the swirling tunnel of destruction heading my way. I scrambled down to the basement, knees trembling with fright, as the rest of the world were screaming for help. One question on my mind, “Where was my family?” The basement was damp and cold, water dripping in the distance. Not too long afterwards, spotted basketball sized spheres fell from the grey clouded sky. Watching anxiously at this mysterious object, eight string-like arms with horizontal orange and blue strips emerged. Next the star shaped head with its huge, bulged, red, evil eyes appeared. Finally its rectangular Kit-Kat candy bar body. It made the worst sound known to men, meark, calling like a bird. Terrified I grasped a shoe and smacked that monster into a wall. Bad move. The creature reformed into an ugly six foot tall duckinstein. In two days these yummy candy bar shaped things took over the world and still no sign of my family.