Monday, June 18, 2012

Story 1-6


(Disclaimer: I wrote these "stories" in high school, during study hall, when I should have been doing my homework. Meaning, they are not representative of my current writing.
I've edited them so they embarrass me less, but only the grammar and punctuation. They're still embarrassing, but are a little funny. Or something.)


Reviewing my previous adventures, I noted a lack of action, so I decided that now I should, to increase the quality of my stories, be more active in my methods of doing things. Not that I should describe them more actively, but should do more active things and then describe those. Or that. Either one.

Once, I decided that I should go bungee jumping, but not in the typical elastic-off-a-bridge method. Let me tall you it took no small amount of coaxing to convince to Not George or Bob (not Something Other than George or Bob mind you, but Not George or Bob, his second cousin) to go on this adventure with me. Because I would need him. For bungee jumping via alternate means.

As we were on this elevator up to the platform to go bungee jumping and about half way up, Not George or Bob disappeared in a puff of very gooey and sticky pink steamy smoke. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's anything sticky. Which is actually many things. So, as a correction, if there's many things I can't stand it is sticky things. –That's still wrong.– Ok, out of the many things I can't stand (and there are many,) all things that are sticky are near the top of the list. –Better–

“Well,” I said to myself, but then didn't go on, because there were people nearby and excluding them from my conversation would have been rude. “I,” I thought, “can’t let him do that.” I did the Exact Thing (you know, the Exact Thing, not to be confused with the Vague Thing,) and appeared (somewhere) standing on my eyebrows. I solved that problem by running around on my elbows for a while.

Now, keep in mind, when a person is standing on their eyebrows, that person is usually having a heart attack. My heart was fine, but I did topple (not to be confused with a popple) over. That is to say, I fell head over heals and landed on my elbows. Usually when a person performs this stunt, said elbows subsequently snap off and one then continues his or her foreword, out of control, motion. I skipped the last part out of consideration for time (and my forearms, which I'm quite attached to.)

Upon regaining my standing stance I resumed my bungee jumping adventures. Well then I jumped back to the top of the platform in a manner similar to that of a really neat high jump thing trick. It really was a trick you see, because I knew Not George or Bob would return as soon as I left. The sticky residue gave him away. Not George or Bob always returns for his messes.

When I got to the top I looked at Not George or Bob, and he blinked twice and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Well I knew how to do this exact thing (that is, the same thing he had done, not the previously mentioned “exact thing.” I can only do the “exact thing” once a day,) in a neat manner that was somewhat similar to the way in which he did it. Thus had I done so and thus did I appear in a long tunnel where Not George or Bob happened to be running away from me.

This was odd because he was laying down unconscious, and until then, I only knew of three people who could run down a tunnel while unconscious. Oddly, his cousin, Also Not George or Bob is one of them. To my relief, I noticed that we were not really moving, but being pulled by a large conveyer belt thing and zooming along at quite a pace might I add. –No it wasn’t! Oh then I suppose that we were just mystically flying backwards for no reason. Yes! Oh yes well that’s what I thought so I was just checking.–

So we were flying backwards and what not and so I said to myself, “Self?” I says.

“Yes?” I said.

“Well,” says I, “We think that we should stop going backwards and make Not George or Bob stop too.”

“Oh, yes, quite the dashing plan,” came my terse reply.

“Yes yes yes, quite dashing indeed,” I tittered like a school girl. I almost smacked myself for that one. I'm no school girl and should know better.

“Fine then,” says the me, “now what I want is to stop this backward flying backward stuff.”

So that’s exactly what happened as soon as I wanted it to.

Once I stopped the backward movement stuff, I grabbed Not George or Bob by the neck, and POOF I disappeared I a cloud of stuff. Again. When we reappeared somewhere, a delightfully high somewhere I must add, I pushed Not George or Bob off a handy platform. George fell to his doom, because the stupid gremlin wasn't wearing a bungee cord. This turned out a-okay, because he happened to be a gremlin and they don’t get hurt by that type of falling stuff.

So then I, following Not George or Bob's example, jumped off the platform, but as I was neat (so neat!) I stepped onto the ground and did nothing. So as soon as I jumped off this thing and landed in this neat (very neat!) way, a large alien space ship came down and this loud, but tinny booming voice all hollers out these few lines of speech.

“OOOOHHHH ooOOOoOOooo whooooooooo oooooOOOooOOOoo oooooooooh, Rino King of the    
Semi-gelatinous beings that are commonly referred to as gelatin peoples, not to mention other gooey and neat things that are not quite solid or liquid, but still taste really neat,” it said (no lie!) “You have done well on your quest to do this bungee jumping stuff. Quite well.”

I didn’t like its arrogant tone so, I punched the entire ship, right in the nose and it cried and ran away real fast. So I felt real proud and started walking home. At this point imagine Something Other than George or Bob sticking his head through the ground and saying “See? What did I tell you? Peril, Eh?“

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