The problem of kidnapping pre-pubescents is a common one, and an endeavor that I myself will attempt. This is a chronicle of my efforts.

September 19, PS151: The first month of school is prime season, so this should be easy. I wait until I catch the eye of a sandy haired tomboy with freckles and a baseball uniform. "Hey, kid," I nod at her nonchalantly, and she stops. "Hey, kid, I've got some tickets to a Bon Jovi show. Wanna come?" She looks at me and says, "Bon Jovi? What are you, an amateur?" I protest, "C'mon! 'Until I'm six feet under, I don't need a bed! Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead!'" I sing. She looks at me, sighs, and swings her bat over her shoulder. "Jon Bon Jovi is a has-been bad eighties rock star. He's so over. I'm sure you'll have more luck next time." First lesson of Kidnapping: Bon Jovi is out. I still love you, though, Jon.

September 29, PS89: I'm trying an age-old classic: fishing. When I was a kid, my Dad took me fishing all the time. Kidnapping, fishing, it's all the same. We used to use chopped up bits of fish as bait. Running with the same idea, I decided to tempt the kiddies with human flesh. But, upon discovering that human flesh is not easy to come by legally, I turned to the butcher and bought some meat, eyes, and organs. I tie a few bits to a string, and leave it out in the grass. A very small blond with horrible acne approaches and I pull it just a tad. It catches his attention and he chases it, until he's very close to me. When he realizes what it is, his blue eyes fill with tears and he lets out an extended girlie scream. I'm surprised by this--I was actually expecting that he would grab and eat the meat, and get caught on the concealed hook. Lesson two of kidnapping: adolescents are not fish.

October 17, PS219: It's time to get tough. I'm going to ambush a lone kid, tie him up, and take him. Very simple, no ploys. I hide behind a miniature house on a playground and wait. I jump out and yell at a 4 foot tall dark haired girl, who is so surprised she can't even make a sound. By the time I've got the kid, I realize that I've forgotten my rope. I go into her backpack and use the only thing I can find: Scotch tape. So I tape her hands behind her back and put her in my convertible. Success at last! I'm rich! I speed off, very excited. At a red light, I check on my prey to see that she's jumped out of the car and is racing down the street towards a police station. Foiled again! The third law of kidnapping: Scotch tape and convertibles are not secure.

November 1, PS65: I need to infiltrate the ranks. I enroll in sixth grade, don my Pokemon backpack, and go to school. In homeroom, I meet a cute redhead with a lisp. I tell him that I have a Playstation II, and he leans over and whispers, "I think Lara Croft ith very thexy." Ah, I have his trust. "Do you want to come over and spend the night tonight? We can play!" I invite him. The teacher walks over and slaps my hand with a wooden ruler. "You dirty person! Stop it! Get out of my classroom! Stop harassing the children!" And thus I discover the fourth rule of kidnapping children: Never do your work in the presence of adults with weapons--they can get protective.