Week 16: This Week’s Winning Stories
I carefully grab the brown, caramel hair
Very loosely, I bring the section over
Yet, that is disagreeable
Sometimes it’s delightful to see the hair perfect
But the strands are soft
Like a new blanket
Uncertain of how it will look to the eye
I twist the section and bring it across two others
It is unpleasant
Too much happening
So I revitalize
Bringing the last piece to
Join the whole thing together
It looks like I had done it
Screaming my name
As if I personalized it
To be my own
It has irregularity
Yet it’s unique
Finally, I am finished with my masterpiece
I reach for the hair tie
So the art will stay in place
The hair tie I am reaching for
Does not exist
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“My son! He, he…”
Okay, let me start at the delightful beginning, but just a warning that it doesn’t stay delightful for long so hold onto your seats. It’s Christmas day and our family, the Venters, have our annual, unpleasant Christmas present raffle. The Christmas present raffle is where my Great Aunt Laney puts all our names in a big bright green hat. She then carefully places her hand in the hat and pulls one out. The name that she pulls out is the person who gets to open the first gift of the occasion. However, it’s a misfortune for me because I never win, ever! Of course, each year, I was still swollen up inside with hopes of winning.
With the uncertainty of winning I stood there waiting for the name to be called out. My great aunt had a scratchy voice so I could just make out the name she said and I was surprised! She said my name!
I quickly run to the soon to be unfortunate Christmas tree and grab the largest present addressed to me. I tear it open like a gorilla eating a banana and BAM! The present I wanted. I had been waiting all year for this. An iPhone 23! I throw the box with no contents inside to a disagreeable place. The CHRISTMAS TREE! The tree comes hurtling down right onto my annoying brother, Jet. This is inhumanity! My mother screams and runs to the phone to dial 911.
Now, here is where I left off.
“911. What’s your emergency?”
“My son! He, he, the Christmas tree fell on him! I need an ambulance at 3421 Jones Lane!”
“Okay, remain calm. We are on our way.”
While we wait for the ambulance I am not worried so, therefore, I personalize my phone. It is hard, though, because my brother is screaming and crying. The ambulance finally arrives to our house and Jet is rushed away to the hospital with my mom and dad close behind. Instead of worrying, though, I feel delightful and play on my phone. The iPhone 23!
My unpleasant room surrounds me.
I call it “personalized,”
but I know the truth.
This room is pure inhumanity!
That is what my mom says.
Though she has a point, I find
that statement disagreeable.
Under all the dirty clothes,
blankets, hair curlers,
hair straighteners–I could go on and on–
there is carpet.
I get up, unsatisfied.
“Did you clean your room yet?”
“Yes, mom!” I reply, being dishonest.
I really don’t want to,
But I get up and carefully fold the clean clothes
and put away the dirty clothes.
Make my bed.
Put my hair stuff in the bathroom.
OH, MY GOSH!
Why is there soft white stuff on my floor?
Wait, is that….
NO, it can’t be.
Is it my carpet?
It feels so delightful on my feet!
I like feeling stuff other
than my crumpled clothes
Beneath my feet.
The unpleasant clothes are gone!
It must have been prehistoric times
since I last cleaned my room.
I wish this happened in real life. 🙁
It’s my day to quit! April 1, 2019. I get ready for work, but instead of going to work, I go to Michael’s and get a long sheet of paper just as big as my stomach. I write on the front, “I Quit.” I stick this under my shirt and walk to my friend’s house. He does band, and lucky enough for me, five of his friends are with him practicing.
I ask them, “Hey, can you guys play a ‘delightful’ tune when I walk into work. I need to show my boss something special. You up for it?”
“Sure,” they all reply with some irregularities within their tones of voice. They were all very disagreeable people so it was a surprise to find that they agreed. I pull up my van into their driveway, and my friend, Jake, asks why I’m going into his driveway. I answer by saying, “Because it’s a very unfortunate day for my boss, losing his best worker.” I smile while I say this. I’m one of the laziest and dishonest people I know. We carefully put all the equipment into the car and drive to the hotel.
My Boss’ Point of View
I get to work early, only fearing that nobody shows up today. If nobody does, I get fired! I didn’t want to have to impersonate everybody, and if I got a dollar for every time I fake laughed at a customer’s joke, I would be rich; just saying, that’s a hard skill to master. Anyway, I would overglamorize everything because one horrible day, my employee and I had a horrible conversation with his friends.
“Hey, do you have O.C.D or something because everything doesn’t have to be perfect,” my employee said, as his friend snickered.
I replied with a dumb comeback. “At least I know what a disorder is, Meany,” I say weakly.
Now this is the really bad part: his comeback. “You know what a disorder is,” he said, trying to sound intelligent.
“What?” I say, his immaturity drowning me in hopelessness.
“You,” he says really cockily as his friend laughs unpleasantly. It was like he had been deactivated because he just fell to the floor laughing. Later, I could hear a band playing, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact location.
My Viewpoint Again
My history with my boss wasn’t that great, until today, when all the suffering ends. We had gotten out all the equipment and were ready to play the instruments. I waited till I got inside the lunchroom or bar and walked in following behind with music, sad music.
I walked slowly to a table then climbed on it. I looked at all the faces with uncertainty because I said I was going to do this earlier. I grabbed hold of both ends of my shirt. My musicians played a high note, and then I ripped off my shirt! In big, bold letters, it read, “I Quit.”
Everyone erupted in laughter except my boss. He just looked disappointed and slouched away. I felt bad and overjoyed at the same time. I got interviewed by my friends for a while. Then I went back home, feeling great.
Past Years’ Winning Stories
Trip to Space
“Oh, boy, riding in a rocket ship will be very unpleasant thanks to the two servings of nachos I had earlier,” I say with worry in my voice, but that doesn’t stop the other passengers from laughing.
I decide that jokes may take my mind of my worries. “Seriously, is there a ‘deactivate rocket’ button around here?” I say getting more chuckles from the riders.
“We will now initiate lift-off; please make sure you’re strapped to your seats,” the station commander announces as the laughter concludes.
“All right. Lift off in 10,9.8,7,6,5,4,3,2,….1!” the station commander booms as there is a loud rumbling, and then we’re taking off.
Maybe disloyalty toward this trip is unnecessary; maybe this will be more of a delightful trip. Unfortunately, like all of life, the journey has its ups and downs, like the fact that I’m afraid of heights and yet I have the audacity to enter a rocket headed into deep, cold space, and that’s because of my misfortune when it comes to completing dares. Hopefully, this “small” trip won’t dehumanize me like what might happen when returning from war.
“So, um…. do you guys want to play a game or something to pass the time?” I say, now realizing how bored everyone is.
“Sure, why not; why don’t we play tag?”someone suggests from the back of the ship.
Long story short, we all carefully play tag because we worry we might break something if we run around to much. Once we all tire and sit back down, I think about when tag was created.It probably wasn’t in prehistory or else we wouldn’t even know the game exists.
My thinking ends as we’re all told to head back to Earth. I decide to revitalize everyone by starting up a game of hide-and-seek, but with such little room, you can guess how that went.
“You were called here today for a very important reason,” said the Sound, the incorporation’s leader, “We have found a way to overthrow the Notide, though it will take all of your concentration and effort. Are you up to it?”
“What’s our job?” I, as the leader of the Clan, replied.
“Well, the Notide has six ships. The Lander, The Comm, The Elan, The Lank, The Sonate, and The Yann. We only have to break into one, their battleship, The Lank. Unfortunately, this is their most secure ship, as it also holds around eight million dollars, plus all their ammunition, and it is the biggest vessel, so we have to plan carefully.”
The Sound continued, “There’re Notide guards traveling to and from the ship every hour, and at three and four in the afternoon, there are changes between GGE’s, where they get off and on at the exact same time. Because they are GGE’s and it is this kind of switching of guards, we won’t need to get checked in with our faces showing, and no guards will stop us on the way to our destination. This also means that we need to put on the GGE’s uniforms and take the place of the ones about to travel onto The Lank, so we will have to impersonate the GGE that we neutralize. As we all know, the GGE’s are trained to be insincere, so we have to be, too, NO exceptions. One we’re aboard, we will have to locate the GGE’s personal rooms so we can personalize passwords to get around the ship.”
“This is where it gets tricky,” the Sound warned. “We will split up—who’s going with whom will be outlined later—into thee groups. One of the groups is going to the engine room where you will deactivate everything you are instructed, which you will know later, as well as the other two groups, who will have equally important jobs. Got it?”
As a final instruction, the Sound added, “Oh! And don’t forget; NEVER show any disloyalty or uncertainty. If there is any misfortune during the course of our plan, leave off of starboard, where a motor boat will be waiting at all times, though you will have to move fast. Now…are you ready?” questioned the Sound.
“Yes,” came mumbles from around the table.
“You sound positively delightful. Now, back to your rooms; we leave at five a. m. sharp tomorrow!”
Be Nice to Each Other
Sometimes it is fun to impersonate people who are unpleasant to be around. It is unfortunate that unpleasant people are often dishonest, disagreeable, and show dishonorable behavior.
People show their immaturity when they dehumanize others by mistreating them or by showing disrespect. When someone’s actions encourage inequality of people or groups, these are other examples of immaturity.
Hopefully, I can avoid having the misfortune of meeting disagreeable people. I strive to be a delightful person and prefer the company of others equally delightful.
Together, As One
My sister reached out to touch my silky, pale hand, her diamond tears leaving a trail upon her cheek.
“Marissa, there are no words that can describe how much I love you, nor how I will miss you while I am away.” She squeezed my hand, “take care of Mom for me, okay?” She pulled her arm back through the car window as my step-dad started the engine.
I started to cry harder than ever before. “No, Nicky! No!”
Mom came outside. “Honey,” she said, “Come inside.”
I wasn’t going to listen to her. I started to chase after the vehicle “No!” I shouted again. Mom gripped my arm. “Nicky!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. She overtightened her grasp. An unpleasant feeling washed over me, knocking my blue baseball cap to the ground. Why did Dad have to take her away?
That night I sat in my mother’s arms, sobbing. She carefully rubbed her hand across my forehead.
“Nicolette will be fine, darling, your step-father is a delightful man. I’m sure he’ll make her feel at home in Oregon.”
More like a dishonest man for leaving without notice if you ask me, I thought.
“Now, I know what has happened is unfortunate, but we have to get over that misfortune.”
My step-dad’s disloyalty brought a punch of uncertainty to my stomach.
Mom looked at me and sighed, “I know. I feel the way your step-dad acted is disagreeable, but you shouldn’t–” she was interrupted by an urgent knock at the door. She started to approach it when it was opened from the other side.
I stood there in shock at the figure when she scooped me up in a hug crying, “Marissa!”
“Nicky!” I said, “You came back!”
“And I won’t be leaving again,” she told us, “I’m staying here with you.”
My job is to be a Master Thief. My friend and I steal rich and valuable items. One of the jobs I have to do is break into a man’s house that he said it is impossible to break into. He even said, “Whoever breaks into my house will get what is inside. My friend and I are making plans of how to get in. We recorded every door, window and possible entries. Tonight we were going to break in.
We get to the gates of the house and look through the bars at the dark lonely house. “It’s impossible to break in!” I impersonate the guy that said it.
“Nice one, dude,” my friend said, chuckling a little.
“Okay, where do we start?” I muttered to myself. “Okay, just be quiet and follow me,” I commanded out loud.
“Okay, I will!” my friend said quietly.
I hopped the fence and walked up to the door that had the keypad to unlock it. I deactivated the door and I walked in. “That was delightful!” I muttered to myself while looking around the room. I realized that the room was just a room that had the words, “TRY AGAIN!” spray-painted on the walls.
“Really!” my friend said unfortunately.
I walked out the door and looked at all of the windows around the house. I carefully put my foot on a window sill and stepped up. After that, I looked for the gaps in the outside wall of the house. I climbed up the side of the wall to get to the window that was close to the ceiling. My friend copied me and climbed up the building. I had so much uncertainty, worrying that by climbing into this window, I was getting into another trap room.
I jumped down the window and landed in the same room. It was just the same thing. I walked back through the door that I first walked in. I held my hammer in an overtightened grip while I broke the window with it. I looked in…. “THE SAME ROOM!” I screamed, “THERE WASN’T EVEN EVEN A WINDOW HERE BEFORE!”
“Let’s try the chimney!” my friend suggested excitedly.
“I told you not to yell! Oh, wait, never mind! Sure, let’s check it!” I encouraged somewhat dishonestly because I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to work. Nevertheless, both of us climbed up onto the roof and looked down the chimney. I wished this was a disagreeable plan because I didn’t want to jump down a chimney. “One, two, three…” I said right before we jumped down.
“OWWWWW!” my friend yelled as he grabbed his leg.
“Are you okay?” I asked, scared.
“I think I just broke my leg; wow, that really hurt,” my friend replied in pain.
I looked over at the wall and saw the a video playing that said, “Joke’s on you! There never was a prize! – your lovely friend, K,” it was signed with insincerity. The video was on permanent loop, repeating over and over, and each time it did, I was growing angrier and angrier.
“This isn’t over!” I yelled at the screen. Now, I would be required to find a different strategy. I refused to believe the task was impossible.
Good to Bad to Oops
Before reading this story, there is a thing you need to know. I’m going to ask you some questions throughout this story.
It is December 21, 2015. I hear the Beep come from the oven timer. I can smell the cookies, and they smell delicious. I start to personalize the holiday bags that the cookies are going in. Mo gets a blue bow, Hanna gets purple, Jordan gets magenta, and so on. I’m carefully placing cookies in bags when I start to smell an unpleasant aroma.
Pause for a second; now I’m going to ask you to think about how this situation could be good and how it could be bad?
What is that horrible smell? I call an inspector to inspect the house. The website I visited to find the inspector’s phone number seemed very dishonest and customer reviews of the business were filled with disloyalty. I was overcome with uncertainty based on the website, but I was in such a hurry, I didn’t even read all the fine print. The guy that came arrived in a van, and it didn’t have a company logo on it. That’s weird, I thought, and then it hit me: the guy was an imposter. I didn’t even answer the door. I looked thought the peephole in the door first to see who it is. I call the neighbors and tell them about the guy who is trying to impersonate another worker. This impersonation is unfortunate for me because my kitchen smells really bad. I’m going to need a lot of air freshener. The neighbors run over and come through our connected gate, entering through the back door. We stay in the kitchen so the imposter doesn’t see us. We call the police.
The police say if the guy is still here in five minutes, call back. Five minutes go by, and we call again. The police are on their way, which is delightful to hear. We walk out to the backyard for a minute to check the fence and to take a break from the awful smell. We have nothing better to do while we wait.
When we finally hear the police sirens, we walk out front, and the man was still there. I hear a policeman say something about immaturity. Then he stops talking and starts to arrest the man, but then the imposter explains.
The man is from FedEx. I needed to sign for a package and because he believed nobody was home, he was going to be kind enough to wait for me to get home so the package wasn’t stolen. It turns out the FedEx logo is on the other side of the van. Oops!
The Dancing Dinosaur
by Jake D.
This isn’t any ordinary dinosaur I’m talking about. First of all, it is disproportional in length and width. It is fat and short. Second of all, it is a prehistoric animal that has very unpleasant behavior. He is an unfortunate little beast to handle, but he is a great dancer!
It could be disagreeable to you that the dino enters dance shows. He carefully struts in his tutu down the aisle. Although he can be dressed in an overglamorized gown, he doesn’t brag too much. However, he is extremely immature when it comes to behavior.
His dances are very delightful to watch, though. His friendship is pretty much always fake because he can be very dishonest and insincere. Since he is a dinosaur, there could be some conflict of inequality if he wants to perform a live dance show.
Regardless of any conflicts that arise because of his species, the dancing dinosaur never is embarrassed by his talent.
The Most Immature Man Ever
He was dishonest. He was unpleasant. He was not delightful. He was..…. Overglamerized??? That’s right; an overglamorized guy. He was Jerald.
Dishonest. He told a told a terrible lie. Jerald told the whole school that he had a “girlfriend” named Chelsie who lived in Florida. He talked about her irregularly but made her sound beautiful. Whenever he wanted to leave and go out of the house Jerald made an excuse about Chelsie’s family.
Unpleasant. He was never fun to be around when he ate. Jerald stuck his face in the food and ate like a pig. It seems like an alien came down
from space and sucked the human of human being out of him. Now he was more like a shriveled up kidney bean instead of human being. His pig eating habits dehumanized him.
Overglamorized. Jerald wore lots mascara and unicorn earrings. He also wore gold bracelets and silver rings. Jerald had a whole entire closet full make-up and accessories. He received mani-pedis every weekend. (You can’t disagree he does choose the best colors for his nails.)
Not delightful (at all). Every night instead of doing his homework Jerald would target one unfortunate person and carefully choose what prank he would execute.
Watch your back, Jerald might come to your school (he always gets expelled, so it’s a possibility). The most immature man ever might prank you. You just wait.
Is It Over Yet?
“The next act is…Holly Greetwell impersonating Elvis!!” I hear cheers and think to myself, Huh, I wonder if this act is going to be as funny as it sounds…
This middle-aged woman walks out in a white, bedazzled, over-glamorized outfit that is like a female Elvis outfit! I think, Let’s see what she will show us. She starts out with some crazy speech to suck up to us, “It is such an honor to be here with y’all tonight, thank y’all for allowin’ me to entertain y’all tonight!” Holly starts off in some country accent. One hour and forty-five minutes later, she starts talking like she is from Great Britain “It is quite exquisite to be here tuh-night, I, at first, had an unpleasant feeling that you guys wouldn’t like my 317 page long speech, but you guys are doing quite well, my mateys.”
I think Holly Greetwell gets our hopes up, and then leads us to misfortune. When she is done with her insanely long speech, she goes right into doing a bad impersonation of Elvis. I feel that her act is so bad that she is treating us with inequality!
After an hour of Elvis, she starts talking in German! The only thing I can make out is… “I really wanted–tried to teach you about prehistory using Elvis as an example. I hope you enjoyed!” Everyone started clapping and cheering, I am not sure if they are showing insincerity and just pretending, or if they actually like it. A couple of people are looking at the people that truly like it thinking, if you like it, I think that opinion is totally disagreeable. I think, How rude!!!
T.V Commercials and How They are Affecting Minds
This report tells you about the disloyalty of food companies and their T.V commercials affecting everybody.
Take Oxi-Clean Kaboom for an example. People sell stuff on T.V and even the advertisers don’t know what the product truly is. The words say it all, and the words say,”This stuff may clean things.” In prehistory, they didn’t even want this stuff. I don’t know what the fuss is about these things. If whatever needs Oxi-Clean looks bad and people don’t use Oxi-clean, they should just replace the item by buying a new one.
So, say you see an ad for the Food Pellet 2519 (lasagna-flavored). It is like, “What the heck is this stuff?!” That can be very disagreeable with your stomach and your wallet. It is like some food companies are impersonating awesome restaurants with radioactive substances. There is inequality between food and “food” for now “food” is winning because all people seem to like cheap things.
T.V commercials need to be deactivated so that people don’t buy what, let’s just call it, that. Although the boxes for those poor-quality products are really cool, they overglamorize what can’t be glamorized. A person once said, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” This is true for this kind of “food” or televised products.
These companies care more about money than our misfortune. The advertisers’ insincerity about their products is unbelievable! These people are dishonest about everything, even as they try to personalize the sales pitch. They are even dishonest about being dishonest!
People will be dishonest
and show disloyalty.
People will be unpleasant
and have a lot of immaturity.
People will be exquisite
and have great stamina.
People will be active
and some will have self-discipline.
People will be filled with curiosity
and others filled with integrity.
People will have sincerity
while some will be filled with inhumanity.
But it is most important to be
the best person you can ever be
and to have lots of initiative.
“Please?” I gave Tanya my puppy dog look. “For me?”
“Really? The puppy dog look? That’s low.” Tanya could be very disagreeable sometimes. “Fine!”
“Thanks!” We were trying to get Tanya into our mission.
A man named Dr. Michael S. Sultan stole a certain rocket from a certain someone—which was me—and was planning to launch it into the middle of the earth, therefore making the world explode. This, of course, would be a serious misfortune. We needed to deactivate the rocket before it launched. I know this isn’t an irregularity for almost every story EVER, but the bad dudes just wouldn’t give it a rest.
“Did she say yes?” Nathan asked. Nathan saw Dr. Sultan steal the rocket. He had wanted to help from the beginning. I nodded and grabbed Tanya’s hand.
When I was done, Tanya looked amazing. Her hair was pulled out in a tight bun, and her dress was dark red and glittery. Tanya was a little overglamorized, if you ask me. I think Nathan agreed.
“H-hi T-tanya,” he stuttered. I rolled my eyes.
“Remember the plan?” I asked as we rolled up to the building.
“Yup,” she replied with obvious insincerity.
“Now say it like you mean it,” I said just to annoy her.
“You are being very unpleasant today.” I pushed her out of the car.
“This is inequality!” she cried as we drove away. Tanya was going to try to impersonate a fancy French lady at a gala, where “coincidentally” she would find a man who worked for Dr. Sultan and try to squeeze information out of him. If he became suspicious, we would just tie him up and interrogate him. Tanya’s voice came in through my earpiece.
“He’s getting suspicious,” Tanya said urgently.
“You know what to do,” I told her.
Tanya kicked through the door of our van about ten minutes later. Nathan and I took the sack she was holding; inside was Dr. Sultan’s worker. We put him in a chair.
“You’re violence is disproportionate,” he said, irritated. I shrugged.
“When does Dr. Sultan’s rocket go off?” I asked. He looked at his watch.
Oh, no. Would we be able to save the world or not?
I personalize myself my way and don’t care what people think, but they do tease me. I feel the opposite of delightful when I walk to school. I feel the sadness that people make me feel for loving reading and reading so much.
After three years, I try so hard to hide and not to be seen at school. I carefully hide at recess, and if I can, I go to the library. You would think that kids are sweet and nice. They are nothing like this. If they do see me, they dehumanize me. They take my heart and happy feelings.
I have an unfortunate past with being bullied, and it hurts. I overtighten my feelings by ignoring it. We are all filled with immaturity, but we are all growing up. Let’s change this past history, and let’s not have dishonest or disagreeable people. Instead, let’s have love.
I’m not made to be a star.
I’m not always pretty.
I cry sometimes.
I work myself way too hard.
Sometimes my maturity makes it hard
to fit into a world of immaturity.
I have uncertainty in myself sometimes.
When you make me angry, it’s so unpleasant.
But if you are special enough to make me smile;
It is so delightful.
I’m constantly stressed and unfortunately
for me, that makes me feel insane.
Sometimes I forget that I have a family who cares.
Sometimes I forget I belong.
Sometimes I’m disagreeable.
Sometimes people show inequality
and my friends can be dishonest.
Sometimes I forget who I am,
who I was,
who I will be.
Sometimes I feel alone.
Sometimes I want to be alone.
Sometimes I smile more than you would think possible.
Sometimes I have nothing but misfortune,
but sometimes I laugh so hard I fall over.
Sometimes I blush.
Sometimes I personalize my things to the point
each one looks like a ball of glitter.
Sometimes I get bored.
But most of all,
I feel like myself.
I’m not exactly sure
what that feels like…
but I know it’s good.
An Unpleasant Event
It was a total streak of misfortune. It all started when I carefully tried to deactivate a bomb and it…. No, I’m just kidding; it all started when I wanted to learn my friend’s secret, which wasn’t a secret. I’m just saying it was no big deal. It was a total irregularity. I mean, he said he had a secret, and there was a conversation before, but he was teasing, in a way. I was being very unintelligent thinking I would want to know the secret, which wasn’t a secret. By the way, it was this: I’m his best friend.
I started yelling at my friend because someone—I can say that there was nothing but insincerity— said the secret was gossip about me. I really believed it was gossip about me because my friend and I had known each other our whole lives. While we were arguing, someone tried to say both of us did something disagreeable and to forgive each other. I wish I was really thinking, but I wasn’t, and so I kept arguing when I knew my friend was trying to stop the objectionable conversation. I feel like he was trying to impersonate one of those people that defuse arguments and come out on top. Unfortunately, that just made me madder.
So, this is where to me the most unpleasant thing happened: He said he wasn’t my friend anymore. To me, that was like a total smash because we had been friends for an extremely long time, and we were almost brothers. I know the kid who was trying to mediate the argument was trying to revitalize our friendship, but it didn’t work. I was as furious at my friend as he was at me. The inhumanity I felt was overbearing. I couldn’t stand losing my best friend. I felt inhuman myself because it was my fault we weren’t friends. Then I realized this was the thirty-fourth time we’d had an argument like this; we would forget why we felt mad at each other by tomorrow, and that made me feel so much better.
I fell down a hole yesterday,
I’m still falling today.
It is quite an unpleasant misfortune
to fall down a hole for two days.
I was impersonating a celebrity
when, with insincerity,
I told my friend disagreeably,
“There is no inequality between
you and me.”
It was just after that when I fell
into an abyss of darkness.
The feeling of falling
into a deep, dark hole
was an irregularity to behold.
Carefully, I counted the minutes
that slowly passed me by,
asking why it had to be me,
instead of that other guy.
I had become numb from the falling
and had to revitalize myself by trying to move.
I tend to overglamorize,
and all of my expensive glamorous jewelry
that I had once worn
was flying through the air around me;
at that I silently swore.
I was thinking about falling, when I realized,
it is not falling I’m afraid of;
it is hitting the ground.
The Dishonest Teacher
Once upon a time, there lived an unpleasant and disagreeable teacher who loved to dehumanize the students. Her name was Ms. Immaturity. All of her students loathed her and thought that she was a horrible teacher because when you were not talking, she would yell at you, and when you were talking, she would not seem to care. The students were saddened that it was their misfortune to have Ms. Immaturity for a teacher.
One day, Ms. Immaturity’s class had a substitute. All of the students agreed to impersonate perfect students so they would have a good day, and it was very easy because this substitute was the best sub that any class could ever have. The substitute was very delightful, and she made nobody feel as if they were disloyal, unlike what happened when Ms. Immaturity was in charge.
When the day was over, the substitute carefully walked all of the students to their parents, and then she rushed back inside and changed into her normal clothes. This transformed her back into Ms. Immaturity!
The next day at school, the students were surprised when Ms. Immaturity said, “So, let’s do art instead of this boring math.” All of the kids had smiles on their faces, and they were quite shocked by this suggestion. When they were shouting with joy, Ms. Immaturity didn’t even yell at them.
When art time was over, Ms. Immaturity gave all of the children free time, and she served the students cookies and hot cocoa. When recess came, Ms. Immaturity had a secret to tell, but she was planning to wait until lunchtime to share it.
When lunchtime, arrived, Ms. Immaturity held the class in for a couple of minutes, and she finally told them her big secret. “All right, so I was the substitute yesterday. I was in disguise, and I was trying to find out if you preferred the sub’s teaching to mine, and you did,” she said in shame.
All of the children looked at Ms. Immaturity and clapped to applaud her courage and her change of teaching style. The students also started jumping up and down, and Ms. Immaturity was highly shocked, but also pleased that she would have a second chance. Then everybody ran to her and gave her a group hug. As everybody embraced her, Ms. Immaturity though to herself, “This is the best day of my life.”
Onomatopoetry: Ho, Ho Ho!
With his overtightened belt,
and no uncertainty,
the man with the hardy laugh
sets off on his worldwide journey
after checking his list carefully.
When he flies over the new
bad children everywhere
deactivate the naughty part of their brains,
and revitalize the good,
but because of their unpleasant, dishonest qualities,
it is too late, and
it is already Christmas eve
and “Santa Claus is coming to town.”
The Train to a Better Life
Once upon a time, there was a little orphan boy who decided to sneak onto a train and move to a different town. His life had been full of misfortune and his future was full of uncertainty. The unfortunate little boy got run out of town because the other kids would make fun of him and play mean tricks to dehumanize him. He had discovered that the people who ran the orphanage had lied to him about his parents being dead and that they were really alive somewhere. He wanted to find them so he packed his backpack and left out the orphanage window, careful to overtighten the knots in the sheets he used to climb from the roof. He was excited and not feeling bad about his disloyalty to the people who had lied to him all his life. Because of the boy’s immaturity, he did not realize that the train he got onto in the dark was a CIRCUS TRAIN!
The crew welcomed him and let him travel with them. They let him feed the animals and help set up the tent when they stopped in a new town. Eventually the crew members discovered that the boy had a talent for impersonating people from the audience. They gave him his own act that he was allowed to personalize any way he wanted. The orphan boy was finally happy, and he found his new life delightful.
It was a misfortune that the monster dehumanized the people. The monster was disagreeable, unpleasant, and dishonest. It was unfortunate for anyone to cross his path. Many people would carefully avoid him. The monster was also known to overtighten his grip on his victims. People with too much immaturity and uncertainty would seek out the monster to find out the truth about his vicious behavior.
Christmas Traditions Gone Bad!
It was another one of those days when it was not quite Christmas, but getting close. You and your family were putting up personalized decorations and sipping candy cane cocoa. It was a day of absolute joy, a time for giving! Until…SHE… came!
Giving wasn’t even close to being in the thinking range! At first, I was ecstatic about getting a new baby sister. I was carefully prepping her new bedroom with pastel pinks and vibrant greens. I was counting down the days until my mom was expected to deliver. December 27th was the day we were anticipating the arrival of our new bundle of joy! Being the only child and all, it was not necessarily delightful news! If only, baby-to- be Britton, could have waited two more days, it would have been the best year of my life. I thought Christmas miracles were real. Obviously, not! When Christmas was over and done with, then we would be ready for the new baby misfortune of the family. Well, at least I would be!
December 24, 2010
Three days early, and we were at the hospital. My worst nightmare had become a reality! As I paced around the maternity floor in the local hospital, I queried to myself, hmmm… How’s mom? How’s dad? How am I? I should be in that room, calming my mother down! All these thoughts were clamoring around in my head. Baby-to-be, Britton Nikki Liam, was on her way. Why on Christmas Eve; why?!
“Layla, wake up,” my mother said in a melodic tone, nestling Britton in her arms. Maybe Britton can take my mom’s attention from me, but she cannot take away our Christmas traditions! I know I am being immature and a little disloyal to my sister and all, but it is not like I am dehumanizing Britton. I should try to avoid her and ignore her cute, little, gurgling baby sounds. “So Layla, how about we go to Grandma’s house so the family can meet Britton,” my mom asked, in a I-know-the-answer-is-no-but-I’ll-ask-it-anyway tone. I couldn’t believe this; my mom’s attention was gone, our family traditions were gone, and my family’s attentions on me…were GONE!
As I solemnly trudged into the new, decked-out, “baby proof” minivan, I spotted a bumper sticker. No it can’t be! I surmised to myself. It’s a “Baby on Board” bumper sticker! By this point, I didn’t care what happened. Unfortunately, Layla Windrup Liam was now known as Layla the Ignored Child. “Remember not to overtighten the car seat,” my mother bellowed as she was jogging to our car with the Christmas presents. Those were supposed to be under our tree, waiting to be revealed! Now, I would have to open my presents in front of my greedy cousins who always seemed to covertly snatch my gifts!
“Ohhhhh, she’s adorable, the cutest angel ever,” Aunt Chelsea cooed. She is my favorite aunt. Well, at least, she used to be. I was left alone, sitting in the corner by myself, the whole evening of Christmas. I was so desperate to get attention I was willing to try and impersonate Britton. Squeak, slide, squeak! rumbled Britton’s too cute Ho! Ho! Ho! holiday socks. I found myself holding Britton in my arms, and surprisingly, fifteen minutes with her was not so bad! We actually bonded! What really won me over and gave me a change of heart was when I looked right into Britton’s big, brown eyes and realized they looked just like mine. Then she gave me the sweetest, drooly smile I had ever seen. Now I knew the true meaning of being a big sister. Maybe Christmas miracles are real.
The Unforgettable Evening
“Of course,” said Catherine in a delightful tone. I was really excited, but the uncertainty of who would win was killing me.
Just then a voice over the P.A. system said, “Everyone, the raffle is for an evening with Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber. You will also get free copies of their first albums and an autographed poster.” We ran to the raffle booth to enter.
The principal came and pulled a ticket from the basket. He walked over to the microphone and said, “Catherine, you have won an evening with Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber. You may take three friends with you.”
Catherine shrieked and said, “I won! I can’t believe it! I’m so excited!” It was wonderful for Catherine, but unfortunate for all of the other contestants who had lost. Catherine carefully walked up to the stage and took the certificate they gave her. I got up and pretended to impersonate her, just as a small joke. Then we went to do our prehistory homework.
“I hope you weren’t dishonest about the raffle. That would show a lot of immaturity in you,” said Mia.
“I hope I don’t overglamorize my outfit on the night I meet them. That would be embarrassing,” Catherine giggled.
Kate, Catherine, Mia, and I went to the evening with Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber. We got everything they promised us. Many of our classmates were unpleasant because we won, and they didn’t. Nevertheless, it was a truly unforgettable evening.
Life with Injustice
I am the oldest of my family. Well, that is if you can use the world oldest to describe a ten-year-old, but I am the oldest of my three sisters and of my family because we are without parents. So, yes, I am the oldest. Without parents, it is my responsibility to take care of a seven-year-old and a five-year-old who doesn’t talk. This is an unequaled challenge when no safe home is provided.
I don’t want to be dishonest with you; growing up without parents is an unpleasant chapter in our lives. Our misfortune started about a year ago in Leaf Stone, Ohio, when our parents seemed to have run away leaving only a note in their place. The note read as follows:
Don’t fear our disappearance, and do not fear at all.
We didn’t want for this to happen, but your lives were
at risk of death. Don’t worry. This will not be our last
connection. We love you with all our hearts.
We will miss you more than much.
Ms. Amy Froston
Mr. John Froston
At the time, reading was a dream. I could only understand our parents’ names. I asked strangers to read the note to me carefully, and when they have finished, Samantha’s and Sally’s faces look at me with uncertainty, while my face is filled with tears and sniffles. I memorize the reading of strangers, impersonating them until it is as though I can read the note myself. The letter appears to be a good-bye.
Now, the three of us sisters live our unfortunate lives on the streets of Jamestown, Michigan, where our depression leaves a trail from our beginning.
My sisters and I can be quite disagreeable when it comes to choosing which direction to travel next. We finally choose Red Sock Avenue and walk yet another block toward what we hope will be a more delightful future.
The Not So Great Camping Trip
It’s the first day of summer, and for most people, summer is freedom from jail, otherwise known as school, but for Beth Mac (that’s me!) and her family, it’s the other way around. Aside from the fact that our family craves school, we are also “science geeks,” as people put it so inhumanly, so one would only guess that we would want to escape from all the spiteful comments about our queer passion, but life without science is too unbearable to think of. We’d feel oddly disproportionate with no science to learn, and because of this, we, as a family, hadn’t gone on a vacation for twelve whole years! So that is how my dad came up with the brilliant idea to go camping for an entire week.
Shuffle, thump, crunch, THUD! Owwwwwwwww! That is me, stubbing my poor toe on a rock, for the five-hundredth time.
“How do you like the hike so far, honey?” my dad bellows down from farther up the steep winding trail.
“It’s great, Dad, I just love it,” I call back meekly and insincerely. I’m really hating this inside and secretly wishing myself back home in my study, but on top of that, I’m in desperate need of some water to revitalize my chalked throat.
Soon, it grows dark, and we switch on our flashlights, but we’re so high up in the mountains, our flashlights deactivate, leaving us in pure velvet darkness. My dad instructs us not to decentralize while he goes off to find a safe place to set up camp. I’m wondering how we’re going to set up camp in this pitch darkness when he comes back saying he has found a cave that will have to serve as our shelter.
A few minutes later, we are all nestled in one big, warm cocoon of blankets at the mouth of the cave. But our sleep is to be short lived because one hour later, we are awakened in a start to an angry mama bear coming home to her young ones, who are deep in the labyrinth of the cave.
Now, the first thing that pops into mind is that bears are known for their industrial strength. The second thought that flits through my brain is that this is an irregular situation, so what the heck am I supposed to do? We cannot very well run for it, neither can we run into the cave. Luckily, my mom overglamorized for the hike—she had been so excited for the surprised vacation she had dressed in heels and a dress! She is a quick thinker and throws one of her heels at the bear. It sails through the air and……. misses the bear. I lunge for the other shoe, aim, and smack the bear square on the nose! Then we run for it, not stopping until we are over the river and out of the woods.
After this fun experience, I don’t think I’ll ever go camping again, at least not at night, and definitely not without a pair of high heels handy. Who knew that they could be such a handy-dandy survival tool?! I also think I’ll be more grateful that I’m still alive, and I won’t complain about the inequalities of not having this or that. Yes, I’d say I’ve learned a lot from this experience, but I still wonder why it had to happen. My mom really liked that shoe!
My Sister Learns a Lesson…or Does She?
It is unfortunate that my sister talks on the phone all day with her friends, discussing what she is planning to wear to school the next day. They talk about personalized jeans and overtightened boots. When my sister gets off the phone, she has a delightful smile on her whole face because she and her friends have all picked out their outfits for the next day.
I know what is going to happen tomorrow because my sister’s friends show great immaturity and disloyalty.
Just as I predicted, when the car pulled up to school, my sister looked at her friends with uncertainty. They were all wearing the same clothes as she was. Her friends had all impersonated her. As my sister cried, she said that all her friends were dehumanizing her.
As I got out of the car, I thought that even after this misfortune, my sister will probably make this same mistake again.
The Unfortunate Win
It was another gloomy night in the settlement of Gloom Ville, and I was about to read my young child her less than delightful bedtime fairy tale. This one was called The Unfortunate Win and was written by a very dishonest man by the name of John Bleak. I started reading the extraordinary yet dreadful tale in a monotone voice to my young baby girl:
“It was the night before the annual chess tournament,” I stated in a quite serious manner, “and I was to battle the most fierce and horrifying chess player ever; his name wasBafflgonk the Gonk Troll.” I thought I sounded pretty realistic and cool. “The next day was the outfit-picking-out day, and I would have to choose from among many different things; maybe I could dress as a medieval warrior or maybe a remarkable dragon suit. Just so many choices of things to of whom to dress as and impersonate.
That night in my feather warrior suit, I was getting ready for the contest. Of course, Bafflgonk just had to wear the INSANELY overtightened, super-dehumanized suit of horror and wonderment!
‘Urgh!’ I uttered to myself as he entered the plain and ugly room with a crowd of trolls surrounding him.
‘So, Younger, are you ready to meet my wrath in the competition and come to my unhappy crowning after I win?’ he chuckled with such rudeness.
‘Oh yes! But are you ready for my victory?’ I asked with an annoying and a metaphorically-speaking disagreeing way.
‘Well, we’ll just see about that,’ the so immature man murmured to me in utter torture.
When the game started, I was in the lead with two of his players taken and none of mine captured.” I spoke the words carefully because I couldn’t believe the good guy was winning! After all; Evil will always triumph over Good. So I kept on:
“The game was half over and I was still in the lead with only one more than the monster of a man. The battle was fierce and almost over when…YES!
‘Checkmate!’” I was overjoyed and blissfully happy for the character. I also soon realized that I had been reading to myself as my child slept lazily! I also started to speculate about the reason why the good guy won instead of the bad one… Maybe it was only that very dishonest author named John Bleak after all.
THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW
It all started a year ago, when I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I’ll take you back and tell you the story of how I was impersonated and my identity was stolen. I was living the life anyone would have dreamed of; I glamorized everything, and I was a perfectionist. Let’s say I was a superstar, but one day, I got into a plane crash and was the only one who survived. That’s when everything went wrong. The pilot was hired to bomb the plane specifically to get me killed so the person who paid the pilot would be able to steal my identity. It’s when I landed in the ocean, though, when I panicked. I thought I was going to die, but I didn’t give up in case there were some nearby sailors.
“Here! Please!” I cried.
“Dad, look we have to save her!” he bellowed.
“Quick, throw her a rope!” his dad roared.
I clutched the rope with all my might as I was pulled in at a heartbeat.
“Thanks, the plane just crashed, and I need to get back to my family to notify them that I’m alive!” I barely breathed out.
“And where is your family located?” the dad questioned.
“California, maybe? That’s where I last remember being. But, everything else is a blur. I can’t even remember my name!” I said hysterically.
“Uh, okay, California it is,” the boy responded.
“What he means is that we’re sorry for the unfortunate event you’ve recently been in, and we’ll help you find your family. We’ll file a police report, ask if someone’s searching for you,” the dad said in a gentle tone. I nodded in agreement.
A couple days later, we were still in search of my family, but there appeared to be no missing persons in the area. I gasped; I had just remembered I had my ID in my pocket before the crash! I took it out, crinkled and damaged because of the crash, but it said I was Sandra Sora. I also found a piece of paper that had my home phone number on it, so I called it.
“Hello?” the voice of a little girl asked.
“Hi, I’m looking for Sandra Sora; is she there?” I asked.
“Yeah, hold on,” the child replied.
“Hello?” the imposter Sandra replied.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Sandra,” the woman responded.
“Wrong answer. I’m the real Sandra, who almost died in a plane crash. Was it you who ordered someone to crash the plane?” I asked.
“Sorry, I need to go; we’ll meet later.” That’s when the line went dead. I went to a police department and asked an officer if he could track the phone number I had called, and it was a good thing he said he would without asking to many questions because I had a pretty unpleasant reason for needing the call traced.
“Well, in order to do this we have to deactivate your phone,” the police officer said.
“And for what reason?” I inquired.
“Uh, we just need to so the number you called will be easier to track,” he stated in a squeaky voice.
“You’re in on it, too! This is inhuman! This world is turning upside down!” I shouted. I tried slamming the door behind me for dramatic effect, but the door just closed carefully with a light close. I grunted and strutted away in frustration.
Pring pring! I answered my phone.
“Meet me at the coffee shop to the left of you,” and she hung up. There was no question about whom that could be. Should I go? I think it’s disagreeable of her for her to just call and hang up, but I must go or else I could regret this.
“What an irregularity,” fake Sandra sighed, “You should have been here ten minutes ago. What was keeping you?”
“None of your business,” I said with an evil-eye grimace.
“How insincere of you; well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Now it’s time for business and don’t interrupt. Nobody arranged for you to be in a plane crash. We are agents. I had to pretend to be you in case something like this happened, which it did. So, it was my duty to take your place because we all thought you had died. You were on a mission to go to another country and be a spy–”
“Well, I’m done with this business. I quit. I don’t want to do that,” I said in a low tone, and marched out the door, gone from my past life for good.
“Timmy, time for homework,” his mom yelled.
“Okay, Mommy, I am doing homework,” six-year-old Timmy answered with a voice of insincerity.
“Timmy, honey, you do realize that a comic book is not homework?” she said as she took the comics from his hands. “You have to read about industrialization.”
“But, Mommy, it was just coming to the part where they revitalize Superman,” he pouted.
“Well, you can read it later during your free time,” Timmy’s mom replied.
Timmy Johnson was the world’s biggest superhero fan ever. He loved everything about superheroes. Sometimes he thought he was an actual hero. He also loved how these heroes fought crime and inequality. They always defeated the villain and then got the girl. Timmy just had so much fun admiring heroes. Soon Timmy fell asleep in his bed with a comic book in his hands. All of a sudden, a rumbling noise shook him awake. He jumped out of bed, and in a split second, he noticed he was wearing a superhero cape, complete with his very own initials on the back. “T.J.,” he read aloud.
Then he ran to his parents’ room, kicking the door open, but no one was there. Then he noticed he was getting taller and bigger. He had giant muscles! This was an irregularity! He was happy. He ran downstairs and blasted through the door with his superpowers.
“Beep, beep, creak!” Timmy turned around to see what the loud ruckus was. It was a giant robot! It just pounded his house with its colossal, metal, disproportionate foot. It was going to crush the whole city to smithereens, so Timmy had to decentralize the robot’s location and deactivate it from smashing everything. Timmy realized he had to find his superhero headquarters to figure out how to stop the robot. He found out he could fly and flew to where he thought his headquarters might be located because after all, every superhero has a headquarters!
Finally, Timmy reached his headquarters and loaded up with supplies he would need to destroy the robot. Then he took off to the central part of town to battle the metal monster. When Timmy reached the giant robot, he realized how much inhumanity it had! It was killing everything in its path! It did not care one bit.
So, Timmy decided to destroy it right there and then! First he flew to the back of the robot’s head and disconnected some wires. The robot noticed Timmy, and smacked him like a fly. Timmy fell to the ground. Timmy got up and blasted a hole through the robot’s side. The robot fell to the ground with a large thump! Timmy had a good look at the overglamorized robot. As he looked, he realized he had just saved a girl from his class from being killed. The girl ran to Timmy and gave him a hug. Everyone clapped and cheered. Timmy was ecstatic. In the midst of his joy, Timmy heard a familiar voice calling.
“Timmy, time for breakfast,” his mom yelled. Timmy then jolted awake and realized his whole adventure was all a dream.
The Astonishing Christmas
Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Isabella. She was unpleasant, devious, and dishonest. Despite these problems, Isabella wanted a new bike for Christmas.
With her history of inappropriate behavior, there was no way Isabella was going to get a bike for Christmas, especially because of her ongoing disloyalty to her friends and family. However, since Isabella wanted the bike so desperately, she tried carefully to eliminate her immaturity and to focus on being more delightful.
So while having conversations with her friends and family, instead of being disagreeable, Isabella became more enjoyable. She tried hard to become a more pleasurable person
On Christmas morning, the uncertainty about whether she had improved herself enough in time caused nervousness in Isabella, but the miraculous happened. Isabella received a bike she could personalize and customize herself. She made it pink with purple accents.
The lesson of the story is this: Being a superior person pays off and then more superb things happen!
The horrible butler impersonated the unfortunate prince. He demonstrated his disloyalty and his immaturity by trying to make the prince look bad. The butler also tried to dehumanize the prince’s subjects. When dressing himself, the butler overtightened his belt and to his misfortune, it made the butler cough whenever he spoke. The butler tried to personalize the prince’s silver with his own initials. The subjects behaved with uncertainty when they saw this change. They revolted against this butler and put the prince back in power. After the prince got back in power, everyone had a delightful time.
I was playing my new cherry red 64 Stratocaster guitar, trying to find the right sound. I was thinking of getting it engraved so that I could personalize my new guitar. Then, boom! My amp burst into flames, which caught my attention. My guitar slipped out of my hands, and I heard a loud crack. Minutes passed as a fire fighter, who had rushed in, lifted the guitar off of my foot. They put out the fire and carried me to the back of an ambulance.
I woke up in the emergency room of the hospital, and I realized my misfortune. Then a nurse walked into the room, and she told me that I had broken my foot when I dropped the guitar on it. I had to get surgery on my foot right away, which was unfortunate, but at least it would help me. While I was in the pre-operation room, the nurses provided me with delightful food. They gave me shrimp, crackers, and milk. As I was eating my food, I noticed a strange-looking doctor right next to me. The doctor crept around the corner, and some police officers walked up to me and asked me if I had seen a strange man walking around. I told them I saw someone weird dressed like a doctor. The police pulled out their guns and blew their whistles as they chased after the fake doctor. They caught him and dragged him to the center of the hall. It turned out the man decided to impersonate a doctor. The impersonator was actually a dishonest thief who had robbed a candy store and then dressed like a doctor so no one would recognize him. The cops handcuffed the fake doctor and took him outside.
The man started to laugh at the police officers, and I could not believe the immaturity of his behavior. The man also started to yell at the cops about racial inequality. The officers were tempted to tease and laugh at the man, but they were professional, and they did not dehumanize their suspect. It turned out that the man was a former employee of the hospital, and he showed extreme disloyalty to the hospital by impersonating a doctor.
After a couple of hours, it was time for me to get my foot surgery. Seeing all of the tools in the operating room made me nervous, and the smell of disinfectant was unpleasant. The nurses gave me some medicine so I would not feel any pain during the operation, but I had some uncertainty about whether or not the medicine would work. Even though I did not really trust the doctors, I was not disagreeable in my behavior toward them. The anesthesiologist put the mask over my mouth, but he was careful not to overtighten the straps. I fell asleep, and then the doctors carefully began the surgery. They took one of the tools and did a bone graph on my left toe. After about an hour, they sutured my toe, and I rested in a bed for a little while.
I woke up and saw one of the doctors walk by, and he looked so old it was like he was born during prehistory in the prehistoric time before written language. Then the doctors said it was okay for me to go home. My friend happily drove me home so I could play my guitar!