Morning Patrol

Ms. Crayon Aardvark stretched her long snout toward the morning sun streaming through the tall windows of her fortress. Her blue and black supersuit felt snug and ready for action. She grabbed her giant glowing blue magic crayon from its special holder.

"Time for patrol, Artie," she called to her pet paintbrush bird perched on the windowsill. The small creature had bristles instead of feathers and dripped different colored paint as he flew.

She soared over Art Gallery Metropolis, watching the bustling streets below. Artists set up easels in the park. Children walked to school carrying their art supplies. The city hummed with creative energy.

Something felt different though. She landed near the Central Art Supply Store and peered through the window with her X-ray vision. The crayon shelves looked oddly empty.

"That's strange," she muttered, tapping her magic crayon against her chin. "Mrs. Henderson usually keeps those shelves fully stocked."

The Empty Shelves

Ms. Crayon Aardvark pushed open the glass door of the Central Art Supply Store. The little bell jingled above her head.

"Mrs. Henderson?" she called out, her voice echoing through the unusually quiet shop.

A short woman with gray curly hair emerged from behind the counter, wiping paint from her hands with a cloth. Her brown eyes looked worried behind wire-rimmed glasses.

"Oh, Ms. Aardvark! Thank goodness you're here." Mrs. Henderson hurried over, her paint-stained apron swishing around her knees. "Something terrible has happened."

"What's wrong?" Ms. Aardvark asked, following Mrs. Henderson toward the art supply aisles.

"Look at this!" Mrs. Henderson gestured at the crayon section. Empty shelves stretched from floor to ceiling. Not a single crayon remained. "They disappeared overnight. Every single one!"

Ms. Aardvark's magic crayon pulsed with blue light as she examined the bare shelves. "Have you called other stores?"

Mrs. Henderson nodded frantically. "I spent all morning on the phone. Every art store in the city is completely out of crayons. Even the schools are calling me, desperate for supplies."

"This is bigger than I thought," Ms. Aardvark murmured, tapping her snout with her finger.