If you're wondering about the title above, don't wonder any further. I have an answer for you. (This is about the time you celebrate with some cake and candles...oh wait, that's for a birthday. Nevermind--although I wouldn't mind a piece of cake right now...) Here's the answer (enter cheesy drum roll), the one you've all been waiting for (Sorry, I like drama. Please don't throw those tomatoes at me!):
...Actually, I don't have a short answer for you. I'll just fill the rest of this empty space with a story (Yes, the story is based on the title, it's not anything random and senseless--although I'm good at that kind of thing.).
It all started when my best friend, Riley, and I were headed downtown with the rest of the seventh grade science class to a newly built building called the Museum of Boredom (It's actually called the "Museum of Fun" but I figured I'd call it what all us kids were currently wanting it renamed.).
Our teacher, Mr. Toob (We all called him Mr. Test Tube. Fitting, no?) was lecturing us about how we weren't supposed to touch anything. Just when the little speech got as exciting as a piece of lint, the bus came to a lurching stop in front of the museum.
Now, for everyone else, stopping themselves from being launched forward came naturally. For me, however, I couldn't do that. No, I had to be flung into the middle of the aisle. I didn't stop there, oh no. That would have been far too simple. I rolled and rolled (and when I got tired of that, I tumbled and tumbled) until I crashed into the dashboard in the front of the bus.
Everyone busted out laughing. Although I was in obvious pain, I cracked my famous I'm-a-dork-but-that's-nothing-new-is-it? grin. While everyone rushed off of the bus, using me as their personal doormat, I felt Riley--my oh-so caring and gentle friend--pry me from the floor and drag me off the bus.
"Come on, Piper, stop being an idiot!"
So much for caring and gentle.
When we got inside and found the rest of our classmates, Mr. Test Tube ordered us to crowd around a massive replica of the solar system. While the class looked halfway interested as Test Tube began his exciting lecture on the planets, Riley and I slipped to the back of the group planning our great escape.
"At this rate," Riley mumbled to me. "we're never going to go to the Anime Convention!"
Riley was the biggest anime fanatic on the face of the Earth (I don't know about the other planets--unless they have TiVo.). She especially loved the series Azu-make-me-die-oh! (Or whatever you want to call it.) because of its hilarious randomness--at least, to her it was hilarious. I'd rather be gagged with a spoon than sit around wasting away in front of the television while watching cartoons.
Anyway, Riley's ultimate goal is to invent a machine that can either zap you into your chosen anime show or make the anime characters become real. Crazy, huh? Well, not as crazy as what she suggested to me.
"Piper, let's get out of here."
I looked at Riley, my eyes went wide. "What? We can't do that! We'd get lost before we even got to the front doors of this place."
"At least you would," Riley stated.
She was right. I get lost just trying to find the door to my room (Not that our house is that humongous...no, it's actually pathetically tiny. And clean. Very, very clean.)! So, unable to find something smart to say, I instead did the following:
"But, but, but..."
"But, but, but..."
"But, but, but..."
I enjoyed this little conversation we were having, but Riley seemed none too pleased.
"What?" I asked dumbly.
"Shut up and come on!" Riley whispered harshly, grabbing my wrist and hauling me away from the group as they moved on to a model of an atom.
Or was it a molecule? I slept through most of Mr. Test Tube's classes, so I wouldn't know. I'm not trying to say the man's boring, but if you're struggling to get to bed at night, just invite him over and you'll be snoozing in less than 1.2 seconds.
Anyway, as Riley pulled me toward the front of the building, I managed to greet a few walls on the way.
"Hi, how are--"
"Nice to meet--"
Finally, we got outside. I would have thanked Riley for letting me get to know those friendly--albeit hard and deadly--walls, but she had other plans. Still gripping my arm, she half-dragged half-guided me down the sidewalk. If it weren't for the gazillions of pedestrians walking around, I would have stumbled smoothly into trash cans and lightposts...instead of them.
"Hey, watch it!"
Ah, yes. I was getting back into the old routine. But just before I could really get into it, Riley stopped short. This of course meant that I kept moving until I crashed into her.
"Ow! Knock it off, would you?"
"Sorry. Why'd you stop?"
Before Riley could answer me, an all-too-familiar voice reached my ears.
Riley and I both turned to face a large girl headed straight for us (When I say large, I don't mean ridiculously fat. It was all muscle. 125 pounds worth.). It was Megan Musculos. She was the only tenth-grade girl on our school's football team. And she was usually the one used to slaughter the opposing teams.
"Megan, hi," I said, holding out a hand for her to shake as she approached. "How are you?"
Megan looked at my hand, then my face, then back at it. She looked a bit confused before her eyes lit up and she took my hand in her own. Even though I thought all my fingers had shattered due to her strong grip, I smiled still. I had the idea she was just immensely strong for her age, and that she was willing to make up with me after all these years of torment and pain.
Boy, was I wrong. Dead wrong.
Unfortunately, instead of shaking my hand, Megan lifted me off of the ground by it. We were now giving each other an Eskimo kiss...without the friendliness, and yet with all of the terrifying closeness. Unfortunatelier, her breath smelt of onions--which I was allergic to. Unfortunateliest (Don't use these words in English class, unless you want to get laughed and stared at.), my nose began to twitch. I would have used my free hand to stop it, but Megan had grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back.
"What do you want? If you think I'm going to let go--"
"No, it's...n-not that."
"I have to ah...ah..."
"Come on, spit it out!"
I didn't exactly spit it out, but I sure did spray it. All over Megan's face. She blinked a couple times, then growled an inhuman growl that sounded like that of a mountain lion. Either that or a massive rottweiler. Or even a bulldozer! Or...(Okay, you get the point.)
Anyway, if looks could kill, I'd be deader than a rusty old doorknob--that is, if doorknobs were actually alive.
"You're dead, Phillips!" Megan screamed.
Before I could correct her than it was spelled with only one L, she catapulted me into the air. I waved as I passed by a space shuttle, but that wasn't the fun part. The fun part was when I came screaming back down to the ground, crashing into the pavement and all my limbs sort of tangled together.
I'll save you the gory details, but I tell you, I won't be going downtown (Where they say "it's the place to go" in that stupid oldies song. Yeah, right!) anytime soon. Maybe in the year 3054 when I'm long gone. Maybe then.
When Riley gathered my remains and dashed off, Megan simply scowled and left without a word. But we both knew that the scowl meant she'd do even worse next time. I couldn't bear to think of it, so I let Riley carry me all of about five feet before she dropped me.
"You're fine, come on. I hope we're not too late!"
I hobbled after her, managing to collide with a few more pedestrians and even a parked car. Maybe Mom's right. I might just need glasses.
You think that was crazy? Wait 'til chapter two when we get to the real fun stuff!
I hope you've enjoyed Chapter 1 so far. I loved writing it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you're anticipating Chapter 2! :D
© Copyright 2016 softfang. All rights reserved.
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