This rather large collection of craziness is actually a compilation of stories that my young mind came up with during my seventh grade year. Uh... enjoy?

WONDERS OF...

THE SEVENTH GRADE

Chapter I

Introduction: Welcome to Holland!

My name is Ted Otero, and I'm the journalist for the seventh grade at AFCENT International School, Holland. AFCENT is a school for students whose parents are stationed in Europe, whether it's because of careers in the military or civilian purposes. Our school is made up of several large buildings, and provides education for children ages four to eighteen.

This may seem like rambling blibberish to all of you out there, but it's just a lot of military slang talk. I know you're all wondering what AFCENT stands for, so allow me to enlighten you: Allied Forces Central Europe. AFCENT students come from all over the world: we have American, British, German, and Canadian students. The reason for the multiple nationalities is the number of NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization) military bases in the area. Schinnen is the "hang out" spot for most of the teenagers. It is an American Army base with just about all of the necessities of American daily life, which you would find very different from daily European life. (I'd like to see you find a store opened on Sundays, or an ice-cold soda in Europe!)

Geilenkirchen, or just "GK" is a NATO base in Germany, near the Dutch border. It is run mostly by Canadians, but there is an American elementary school there. This is also where most of the non-varsity after-school sports are held.

AFCENT is the name of a base that is located in the Dutch city of Brunnsum. It is a NATO base with few recreational facilities.

So there's our community at a glance. The total area is about 30 square miles (from GK to Schinnen to AFCENT).

Now let's get down on a more personal level. As I said, I'm the seventh grade journalist, and I record the strange happenings here at school. I'm sure after the first three paragraphs of this chapter your head was probably spinning, or you were on the verge of sleep. That's okay, but keep reading; here's the part where it gets interesting.

I'm a blonde haired, blue eyed thirteen year old who wears glasses and gets fairly good grades. I know what you're thinking......geek, nerd, etc. But here at AFCENT that's not the case. We have to live with all nationalities of people, and we learn to get along. Everything runs fairly smoothly, but in a school of this size, you can't expect everything to be normal all of the time. So here's where things tend to become interesting. How many strange molds thrive in radiation and consume whole planets? How many people do you know that get visited by creatures from Mars? How many fifteen foot tall gorillas do you know who are inventors? That is just a taste of what is to come in the following pages. The following stories are from my own personal experiences.

Let me introduce you to some of the key characters in this book:

* #1. Me- the author.

* #2. My dad (his name is Ted as well)- U.S. Air Force fighter pilot.

* #3. My mom (Doris)- speaks German as a second language, which helps all of our predicaments rather conveniently.

* #4. My sister (Christina)- usually my worst enemy, but is great when trouble arises.

* #5. Nick Hughes- my best friend at AFCENT and fellow artist.

* #6. Nathan Hughes- Nick's twin brother, is obsessed with writing a story called "Danger Zone" in which he's a secret agent by the name of "Raymond Jones."

* #7. Ronald VanDerWeert- pronounce it as you like, but he's Nathan's best friend, and is assisting in "Danger Zone."

* #8. Mr. Taylor- English/Geography teacher for the seventh grade; he's the most exciting and most liked of all teachers at AFCENT.

* #9. The Hines Family- My family's closest friends, a family of five: Ben- the father, Donna- the mother, Benjamin- the eldest son, Daniel- the middle son, and Matthew- the youngest son.

* #10. Ben Carter- My best friend who lives at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

There are more characters of course, but you'll learn of them soon enough. This book begins in the fall of my first year as a seventh grader.

Chapter II

The Great Grammar Master "T" Meets Mr. Fooby

It was a dreary European day, cold, cloudy, and raining. I struggled out of bed very early to get ready, because like always, my bus came at 7:15 in the morning. The half-mile trudge to the bus stop was uneventful, with barely a word spoken between my sister and I, and the bus ride was much the same way.

The bus dropped us off at GK, where my sister went to school, and I transferred to another bus to get to AFCENT. The GK-AFCENT bus was crowded with high schoolers, but I soon found a vacant seat, next to Nick who had been saving it for me.

"G' morning." he mumbled.

"G' morning."

"Did you get all of your homework done?" he asked me, not really caring whether or not he heard the answer.

"Sure did, how about you?" I replied.

"Yeah, I did it. But that math really stumped me."

Soon after our routine homework conversation, Ron and Nathan leaned over from behind us and began their usual pestering. "Hey Nate," Ron began, "look...two geeks in one seat!"

"Yep!" Nathan agreed. "Why don't you guys ever do anything besides draw, write, play soccer, and listen to your 'soft rock' tapes? Heavy metal is where it's at!"

"Look Nathan," I reasoned in a controlled voice, "heavy metal rots the mind, vocabulary, and your neck muscles too, if you like to 'head-bang.' So sit down and leave us alone."

"Right." Nathan said, rolling his eyes. "And you expect us to leave you alone on the morning bus ride? Come on! It's tradition!"

At this point, a fat German bus driver plopped into his seat and started the engine. Once again, our bus made the same boring trip to AFCENT.

On normal school days, our bus arrived about 20 minutes early to school. Therefore, my friends and I had plenty of time to go through our lockers, finish unfinished homework, goof around, etc.. Today Nick and I went straight to Mr. Taylor's room and began to draw.

Nick and I used to draw during class, but it irritated Mr. Taylor so much, that we decided to do it only before school and during our two breaks (we have one 15 minute break in the morning and of course, lunch).

Mr. Taylor strolled in about ten minutes later, and mumbled something about dumb faculty meetings. Mr. Taylor is well liked because of the fact that he is very funny and sarcastic. The bell rung loudly, which signaled the end to all of the conversation. Mr. Taylor said good morning and gave the attendance sheet to a girl named Tonya, whom he calls his "roll troll."

Mike Batson strolled in a few moments later, and Mr. Taylor sent him on "dot patrol" for being late. "Dot patrol" is not a great honor. You get to wear a large, florescent dunce hat, and go out into the carpeted hallway and pick up pieces of paper (dots).

The rain splattered against the window, and a low rumble of thunder announced another approaching storm. Almost everyone looked out the window.

"Hey!" Mr. Taylor said impatiently, thumping his fist on his desk. "Geez," he commented to himself, "these kids are over twelve years old, and they still can't pay attention. Imagine what'll happen when it snows!"

"Here." Tonya set the attendance sheet in front of Mr. Taylor.

"Thank you." said Mr. Taylor. "Now," he turned towards us, "let's take our chapter test on Australia."

Ryan Elza is our class clown, but today I mistakenly thought he was being mature and serious. "Mr. Taylor?" he said, raising his hand. "What is the average rainfall of the midwestern area of the continent of Australia?" Mr. Taylor looked surprised.

"Mr. Elza.....did that come from your mouth or are you lip-synching?" he asked.

"No, that was me. And while you're at it, could you please tell me how the percentage of banana imports affects the daily life in the Northern Territory?" As soon as Ryan finished his long-winded question, I was sure that everyone (except Mr. Taylor) saw right through him; he was trying to postpone the test! Walkmans were being pulled out of bags, novels were being opened, and drawing paper was pulled from notebooks.

Sure enough, as soon as Mr. Taylor was done gaping at Ryan's intelligent questions, he began to answer them. One thing about Mr. Taylor: he likes to cross-reference and back up his facts. His speech lasted right up until the bell rang, when he was jarred back into reality. He had been so engrossed in his speech, he was unaware of happenings around him. He stared confused as each of his students passed him and smiled a see-you-later smile.

Now you know about Mr. Taylor, or as he prefers to be called, "The Great Grammar Master T," since he is constantly correcting our grammar. He calls himself the sacred enforcer of the "Mr. Fooby Grip." He claims that Mr. Fooby lived long ago, and all that's left of him is his name and the legendary pencil grip that he invented to ease writer's cramp.

Now, as you can imagine, none of us believed him; until late September. Batson was on dot patrol, and we were in the middle of "Writer's Workshop," which is a program to encourage writing. Mr. Taylor was mumbling inaudibly to Jennifer about her handgrip. To make a point, he suddenly held up her pen and called for our attention. He held the pencil lightly in his right hand and said "My students! The incredible 'Mr. Fooby Grip!'

"I know I've shown you this before, but it's best to reinforce it. Hold your pencil like so, then put this finger here and that finger there...." He gestured wildly high in the air so that we could all see. Abruptly, something caught his eye and he stopped everything. Batson was coming back in. "Back!" he said with a frown.

Batson sighed heavily and tramped back into the hall to finish the loathsome job. Mr. Taylor continued.

That was when it happened; purple smoke squirted through the tip of the pen and immediately filled the large classroom. We all coughed and sputtered, and there were shouts and screams.

"Ted!" Nick bellowed above the cacophony of noise. "Ted! Are you okay?"

"Fine! And you?"

"Oh... I'm okay too, I guess." he replied.

Then the room began to tip and sway back and forth. That's when Nick and I both started yelling simultaneously. Then everything went black...

Chapter III

The Great Grammar Master "T" Meets Mr. Fooby

Episode 2

The blackness was surrounding and thick with horror. It was like a heavy blanket, and burdened everyone in Mr. Taylor's first period class. Nick and I were so scared that it seemed we were super-glued to our chairs. Suddenly, the room began to tilt crazily, and the room was filled with an eerie green glow. All that was visible through the windows were hundreds of swirls and polka dots of green and red.

"It's.....it's...." stammered a kid from across the room, "it's the Twilight Zone!!!"

Several kids mumbled in agreement, and others began to chant: dee-dee-dee-dee, dee-dee-dee-dee. I could only stare. Sure, everyone has seen the Twilight Zone on TV, but how many people have ever experienced it?

"Maybe we're going into another dimension." offered Nick.

"I don't think so." I replied.

"Maybe we're somewhere in the space-time continuum!" he suggested.

"I don't think so." I replied.

"Maybe we're all going to die!" he suggested.

"I don't think so." I replied. "If anything, we're all having a bad dream."

"I don't think so." he replied. After a few more moments of arguing, we agreed on the cause of this phenomena: it was a hoax. The chattering among students came to an abrupt halt as the tilting and spinning stopped, and daylight flooded into the room.

All of us clambered to the windows, straining to catch a glimpse of our surroundings. I expected to be greeted by happy little munchkins, thanking us for crushing the evil witch. But I saw something that changed my mind. My mouth hung open when I read a sloppily painted sign nearby. It said in bold, red letters: DIMENSION XIIIVXIV: LAND OF THE FAMOUS BUT LONG-FORGOTTEN DEAD GUYS. (I felt rather stupid knowing that Nick had been right about being in another dimension.) Suddenly, several men, women and creatures swarmed into view, each with a sign around his/her/its neck. A tall man with a beard walked by, his sign reading: Mr. Stanley Boor: Inventor of the cardboard box. A lady with red hair waved at us as she hurried by, her sign said: President Linda Pharks: First person to wear high heels. The class was laughing at all of the crazy people that they had never heard of, but stopped short when a large, hairy gorilla came from behind a tree and banged noisily on a window. Ryan was nearest to the window, and stumbled backwards. I gasped when I read the gorilla's sign. It read: Mr. Nathaniel B. Fooby: Inventor of the Mr. Fooby Grip.

Mr. Taylor smiled and arose from his chair, his arms spread wide. "Mr. Fooby!" he yelled. The students tried to stop him from opening a window, but couldn't. The window swung wide, and everyone except for Mr. Taylor ran to the opposite side of the room. I cowered behind Nick, who was cowering behind someone else. "Mr. Fooby!" Mr. Taylor said admiringly to the gorilla. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" He removed a tablet of paper from his rear pant pocket, and a pen from his shirt pocket. "May I have your autograph?"

The gorilla spoke, his voice was slow, deep, and low. "Yeah, yeah." He grabbed the pen and paper roughly. He scribbled something and then handed it back. His two enormous arms came through the window and heaved the massive body into the classroom. The students squished closer together. In fact, we probably set the world record for the smallest amount of space ever occupied by twenty-seven people.

I was surprised at the gorilla's proportions. He was about fifteen feet tall, and had to duck in order to fit into the room. His chest was immense, as were his arms, but his legs and feet were very small. When he walked, his arms did all of the work, while his feet rarely even touched the ground.

Mr. Fooby "walked" closer to the group of frightened students. We again broke the record for amount of space occupied by twenty-seven people at one time. Wow, I thought to myself, two world records in one day! The gorilla stopped about three feet away from us.

"Stop cowering." he ordered. We immediately scattered in all directions. He rolled his eyes, disgusted. "Look, it's not like I'm going to hurt you or anything, OK?" We all eyed him suspiciously. "OK, it's obvious that your teacher here has more faith in me here than any of you, so to prove to you that I'm not dangerous, I'm going to let your teacher shake my hand." Mr. Taylor gasped, and then shook the gorilla's hand! And to top it all off, I think that he actually admired Mr. Fooby. One of the boys of our class, a real show-off, got up from beneath a desk and strolled over to the gorilla.

"I'd like to shake your hand, Mr. Fooby." he said quietly.

Yeah, right. I thought. The only reason that kid wants to shake that creature's hand is to impress the girls. I knew that I was right.

"There, you see?" the gorilla said after shaking the kid's hand. "Now," he said, changing the topic, "here's the idea. I help you, you help me."

"You mean we scratch your back you scratch ours?" a kid beneath a desk ventured.

"No!" A girl yelled from across the room. "There's no way I'm going to lay a finger on that thing!"

"Sheesh!" I called to her. "Can't you even comprehend a figure of speech?" She turned to me with a mean look. The gorilla looked hurt.

"Sorry." the girl said after seeing his face.

"That's all right." he said. "Now see here, everyone! I live in this dimension because I have been forgotten like all of the other poor folk around. This is a very boring place, and I really want to get out of here; soon. When I was to be put into a dimension, I, like everyone else, passed through a court which determined the amount of people who knew of me. It was decided that not enough people remembered me, so I was put in dimension XIIIVXIV.

"When that happens, the only way you can get to dimension XXX (The Land of the Famous Dead Guys) is by appealing your case every once in a while.....but you must have proof. Therefore, not many of the forgotten dead guys get out of this dimension. So, I knew I had followers somewhere, but wasn't sure where. Then this famous forgotten dead guy named Thomas Dwindle came along, and-"

"Thomas Dwindle!" Exclaimed Mr. Taylor. "I knew him! He died in a car accident five years ago! He was the smartest kid in my class during my first year of teaching!"

"That's the point." Mr. Fooby said quietly. "Anyway, this guy says he knows of me. When I asked him how, he said that his teacher (Mr. Taylor here) had taught kids throughout the years about my famous "pencil-grip." I was really excited, because that meant that I had proof! Or so I thought.

"When I went back to court, they ruled that there was insufficient evidence to prove that I was in fact famous. I needed proof! That's when I started toying with the methods in which they brought people to this dimension. I got a job as a janitor in the main office building, where the Dimension machine was located. That's the machine that transports matter back and forth between dimensions.

"Little by little, I learned about the machine. Once I had accumulated plenty of knowledge on the subject, I quit my job and built my own dimensional traveler. I finished it early this morning, so I immediately sent for Mr. Taylor. I never considered the fact that the entire classroom would come along!"

"Well, it did." said Nick.

"Where's the machine?" asked Bobby Graham. "It sounds rad!"

"Yes," said the gorilla, "it was quite rad."

"Was?" I commented. "Don't you mean is?"

"No, I mean was." the gorilla's shoulders slumped and he stared at the floor. "You see, the receiving compartment was only big enough for a maximum of four people; I wasn't expecting the classroom, after all."

"How about sending us home now?" Tonya said sternly.

"That's the problem," the gorilla mumbled, "that's the problem."

"Do you mean to tell me that your machine was here when you activated it, and that the classroom arrived through some sort of four-man compartment?" I asked.

"Yes." the gorilla looked at me.

"Does that mean that the compartment practically "blew-up" when we arrived?"

"Yes." he answered.

"Does that mean that the dimension gadget is somewhere beneath this room?" I knew I was pressing my luck. This gorilla had very muscular arms, and I could imagine my bent body thrown out of the window, never to see my own dimension again. But I just had to know this information. I kept it up.

"Yes."

"Does that mean that we can't get out of this dimension?"

"Yes!" the gorilla looked as though he might cry. "Yes! It's all my fault! I should never have tried to use my own machine. It's so....so......primitive!"

The class gasped at the thought of never seeing earth again. I did too.

Chapter IV

The Great Grammar Master "T" Meets Mr. Fooby

Episode 3

"Look everybody, I'm really sorry for bringing you all here, but I promise I'll get you home. Okay?" the gorilla attempted to calm the hysterical kids. "After you testify for me in court."

"Well, how soon can you get a trial date?" asked Bobby.

"If you're worried about that, then stop! I go to court today! Why else would I summon Mr. Taylor here today?"

The gorilla is right, I thought, he probably wouldn't call Mr. Taylor here if the trial date wasn't soon.

"Alright everyone, line up. My trial starts in a half hour!" Mr. Fooby ordered.

"Elementary schoolers line up," commented Ryan, "Jr. High schoolers don't." I thought the gorilla would knock him flat, but he didn't. This gorilla was nice after all!

Nick opened the classroom door very slowly. Outside, people were walking around, most didn't even notice the classroom at all. We all flooded out of the classroom into the fresh air. The gorilla immediately began scurrying toward some large buildings about a mile away. Lots of the kids surrounding me groaned. "Oh, come on." I said. "That's all you guys have done since we arrived. Moan and groan, moan and groan."

"Do you want to walk a mile?" someone asked.

"I don't mind." I said. "Besides......" I gestured towards Mr. Fooby who was beckoning us to follow, "it doesn't look like we have much of a choice! Unless you all feel up to wrestling a nine-hundred pound gorilla."

Most of the students gave in and started to follow me, others were still groaning. "That was a very inspirational speech you gave back there." Nick said to me.

"Thanks." I said.

We arrived at the buildings about thirty minutes later. A sign on the smallest building stated "REGISTRATION." The medium sized building said "INTER-DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL MACHINE." And the third, biggest building said "COURT." We walked right past the first two buildings and entered the third. The inside was luxurious. It resembled the lobby of a fancy hotel. We walked to the stairwell, and trudged up to the seventh floor. Exhausted, we followed the gorilla to a room that said "COURT #49" on a wooden sign. Inside, there were two judges. That was all! No audience, no jury, no policemen.

We piled into the audience seats, and Mr. Fooby walked to the judges. One of them was sleeping face-down on a desk, and the other was flipping through a magazine. "Ahem." mumbled Mr. Fooby. Neither of the judges responded. "AHEM!"

The judge reading the magazine looked up. "Oh." he said. He began shaking his companion by the shoulder.

"Huh? Wha-? Hum? I'm awake! Geez!" the second judge lifted his head slowly. "How long have they been here?" He whispered to the first judge.

"I don't know."

"Did they hear me snoring?" the second judge asked.

"Probably."

"AHEM!" Mr. Fooby said insistently. He sure was being inpatient. "My appointment was at fifteen-hundred hours."

"Oh, yes," said the first judge, "so it is." He looked down at a book. "But is says here that you were only bringing one witness."

"Well, I wasn't expecting all of these kids. They just happened to be with him." Mr. Fooby looked nervous.

"How about your last witness, where's he?" asked the second judge.

"Why do you want to see him again?" Mr. Fooby asked. "Besides, he already testified on my behalf."

"Quite right, quite right." mumbled the second judge. "Alright, let's get on with it. Call your first witness."

"Alright, Mr. Taylor." the gorilla motioned him to the front. "Tell these good men that I am not forgotten on earth."

"Mr. Fooby is not forgotten on earth." Mr. Taylor echoed.

"Thank you, Mr.-" Mr. Fooby was cut off by Mr. Taylor, who continued his testimony.

"The fact is, I teach all of my students about Mr. Fooby. And I will continue to until the day I die."

The judges both looked startled. "You mean, you're not dead?" They asked simultaneously.

"Of course not. In fact, I-" Mr. Taylor was stopped short by Mr. Fooby's hand which clamped over his mouth.

"You don't need to say any more, it's the kids' turn." Mr. Fooby said, his face etched with dread. His hand left Mr. Taylor's mouth and hung limply at his side. He gestured to the us. "Go ahead, kids."

"Mr. Fooby, do you mean to tell me that none of these children are dead yet either?" the judge asked.

"Yes."

The judge pressed a button on his desk. "You have broken a serious law." he said gravely. "Now you will pay the consequences. I have called the police."

"I did?" said Mr. Fooby.

The judge faced us. "I'm truly sorry, kids. It is against the law to bring anyone to this dimension without permission from the courts. It is also against the law to use any other 'inter-dimensional' machine other than the one provided by the authorities of this dimension."

The doors behind us slammed open, and policemen and women of all nationalities spilled into the courtroom, guns drawn.

"What?" one of the judges yelled. "Why are there so many of you?"

"Well you see, Your Honor, all of us at the police station are incredibly bored. When your signal came in, we all jumped at the chance for some action."

"I see." the judge remarked. "Arrest this gorilla. He transported several people here from earth unlawfully."

"You're under arrest." stated an officer, grabbing Mr. Fooby's massive arm.

"I noticed." Mr. Fooby said sarcastically. "Look, kids," he said as he was escorted to the door, "I'll summon you here when this slight misunderstanding is over. Okay?"

"Okay." we all replied together. The officers clamped handcuffs on the gorilla's wrists, and he vanished down the hall.

"Kids, you still have lifes to live. Go live them. Forget about this loony gorilla. He's been trying to get out of here for years. We'll transport you home." The judge looked serious.

"No way." I said, standing up. "Anyone who can invent a pencil grip that relieves writer's cramp can't be that bad. Right?"

"Right." said Ryan, standing up. "Look, judges, we write a lot in Mr. Taylor's class, and thanks to that gorilla, I never get cramps in my hands anymore."

"These kids are right." Confirmed Mr. Taylor. "No gorilla that nice could commit a crime knowingly. He probably didn't even know that it was illegal to transport us here."

"Yeah."

"Uh huh!"

"That's right!" All of the kids in our class gave their approval. The judges looked at each other quizzically.

"We'll consider it." the first judge said. "Until then, you're all going home, okay?"

Two guards came in the door. "The gorilla is secure." one said.

"Well, unsecure him!" the second judge said.

The guards looked at each other, puzzled. "You know," one of them said as they walked out, "they really ought to make up their minds."

When Mr. Fooby returned, the judges granted him passage to Dimension Three, The Land of the Famous Dead Guys. We were escorted to the Dimension machine, and sent our separate ways. Mr. Fooby had said one last thing before departure: he would repay us.

The strange journey was repeated, and we found ourselves in front of AFCENT International School. Flags from several nations flapped in the breeze, and it was pouring rain. We ran inside. Once we reached the third floor, we noticed a clock on the wall. Less than a minute had passed since our departure! Where was our classroom?!! It was in another dimension. Suddenly, it materialized right in front of our eyes!

We went in, and found everything in order. Mr. Taylor called for our attention. He showed us a pile of pills on his desk. On the chalkboard, a note was written in beautiful script. It read:

Dear Mr. Taylor and Students,

I will forever be in your debt. Nothing that I could do could compensate for the generosity and caring that you have shown me. The least I could do is give you the last of my pills. I invented these several years ago, and they are designed to enhance your wrist strength, making you nearly immune to Writer's Cramp. I realize how little in value each pill is, but it is all I have. Please forgive me. Thank you all immensely.

Sincerely,

Mr. Nathaniel B. Fooby

Inventor

Well, needless to say, we each scrambled for the pills, each swallowing one. Just then Batson came in. "Mr. Taylor, is this enough?" He held out a handful of paper bits.

"Yes, Batson, that's enough." Mr. Taylor responded. "Has everyone taken a pill?" he asked. Everyone nodded. "Alright" he said, swallowing his own. Mike Batson was really confused now. He read the note on the chalkboard. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Can I go to the nurse's office?" he asked. "I don't think I feel so good."

Chapter V

Looseleaf Paper

Every month or so, my mother buys me a pack of looseleaf paper. A new pack of paper brings with it feelings of happiness, hopefulness, and a wood-like smell. It brings joy (and occasionally a paper cut) when I put this paper in my binders. I know that in the weeks to follow I will write down more of my adventures in Germany, and then type them up on my dad's personal computer later.

Well, it was a week after the "Mr. Fooby episode," and I was in my bean-bag with a brand-new pack of looseleaf paper. I usually put a little bit of paper in my science, geography, and math binders, and a lot of paper in my writing folder. But before I could do so, I was interrupted by somebody.

My sister came in, (just to bug me, I assumed) and asked me about my day. Since she wasn't normally so interested in my life, I immediately acted defensively. "Why should I tell you?" I asked, suspicious.

"Geez. I ask you a simple question and you get all mad; don't have a cow."

"Well, for your information-" I halted in mid-sentence. The lights had gone out.

"Teddy?" Christina ventured in the pitch-blackness.

"Yeah?" I replied warily.

"Did you see that?"

"Yeah."

"Shouldn't we go turn the fuse back on?" she suggested.

"Yeah."

"Well? Come on!"

"Oh, Christina. Why do I have to go?" I asked.

"Because-"

"Because you're scared of the dark." I interrupted. I saw her dim outline nod slowly. "Okay, I'll come too."

We grabbed a flashlight and walked down the stairs into the basement. I slowly turned the handle to the door of the fuse room, and the heavy metal door swung inward with a creepy groan.

"You go first." My sister whispered.

"What's the matter?" I taunted. "Are you scared?"

"Well, I.....uh.....well....you see.....uh.....aren't you scared too?"

"Yes." I squeaked weakly. We both looked at each other. "Well?" I began. "What're you waiting for?" My sister's mouth hung agape. "Shut your mouth unless you're trying to catch flies."

"You still want me to go in there? Are you crazy? Even after you admitted that you're afraid to go in!"

"Ladies first." I said with a smirk. That's when she walked slowly behind me and shoved me into the dark room. "Okay! Now that we're in here...." I crept slowly to the fuse box and opened it. "Christina....." I said as I lifted the blown switch, "they're back on!"

I heard a blood-curdling screech from the first floor, accompanied by a loud crash. I swiveled around quickly, and bolted for the stairs. "Teddy!" I heard my sister scream. "It's got me!"

I dug my heel into the floor and came to an abrupt halt. I had left both the door to the fuse box and the door to the fuse room open. I immediately turned around to close them. I retrieved the flashlight that I had dropped when I heard Christina's scream, and turned it off. I knew I was stalling; I knew that whatever had Christina must be hideous, scary, and mean; I knew that I did not want to go up there.

I tiptoed into the laundry room, searching desperately for anything that would serve as a weapon. I spied the vacuum cleaner in the corner, and rushed to it. I hit the release button for the head of the vacuum, so I was left with a long, metal pole. I smiled, "It's rescuing time!" I said aloud.

I crept up the stairs and into our unbelievably large hallway. Christina was still screaming, so she was easy to locate: she was in my bedroom. I ran to my doorway and summoned my courage (which there wasn't much of). "Come on," I told myself, "I've got to save her!"

Just then, a gigantic CRASH!!!! sounded through the entire house. A tiny piece of glass flew from my room and skittered across the hallway tiles. My eyes grew even wider, and I snuck a glance around the doorway. My room was in chaos. My lamp was on the carpet and the bulb was still bright, but was producing a sizzling sound. My new pack of paper was gone, and the floor was littered with jagged shards of glass. My window was broken, and the panes themselves were damaged. I leapt to the window, and peered out. There were large footprints of melted plastic leading to a hole in the wire fence, and my dog was smelling them curiously. She immediately began to bark, and dashed through the fence into the fields behind our house. I leaped out of the window and into our backyard.

Thinking she would lead the way to Christina, I followed her calling, "Heidi! Wait up, girl!" I soon realized that I didn't need Heidi to track the beast, but I need only follow the plastic footprints. I thought for a moment about turning back to get my parents, but didn't once I remembered that they weren't home. My dad was still at work, and my mother was grocery shopping.

Kernels of wheat fell off of the plants and got stuck to my socks, and although my legs began to itch horribly, I continued on, as quickly as possible. We followed the footprints around the outside of our backyard fence, and into a small grove of trees. Although I was a soccer player (and still am), and could run fairly fast over a long distance, my legs began to feel like dead logs and I began to slow.

I stopped, exhausted, and called Heidi back to me. I gave her a quick hug, and noticed that she was panting like me. "Come on." I said, more to me than to her. I looked down at the hollow metal tube from the vacuum that I was holding. It wasn't very heavy, so after a moment of hesitation I decided to keep it. I switched it to my left hand, and sprinted after my dog, who was well ahead. The grove consisted of only three trees, so needless to say, it didn't take long to run through it.

In the distance, I saw the sunlight reflect off of an immense piece of plastic. "My paper!" I thought aloud, as I came to a screeching halt. I had noticed that my paper had been missing, but it never occurred to me that my packet of paper could be the kidnapper! I looked down at my "weapon" and decided to think this over. I looked back at the packet of paper, and realized that it wasn't moving. My mind raced, and I thought, how in the world did my paper get so big?

Chapter VI

Looseleaf Paper

Episode 2

I had to use my brains. I heard my sister's screams in the distance, and Heidi was racing towards her. Behind the kidnapper was a giant windmill, that had been there ever since we had moved in a few years ago. Suddenly, a light bulb went on in my head, and I knew what I had to do.

I ran towards the windmill, but it was still about a half-mile away. Behind the windmill was a large forest, and I knew that was where the creature would head next. Sure enough, the sunlight glinting off of its plastic casing began to shimmer and dance, indicating that my target was once again on the move. I sped up, because my plan relied on my arrival being at least a half-minute before his.

My throat was dry, and my lungs burned. The September afternoon sun was hot on my back. I pushed on. The windmill grew nearer, and a new problem arose: the highway. The highway was all that stood between me and the windmill, but it was very dangerous. Because German drivers drive up to seventy miles per hour between villages (which are no more than 2 miles apart) the highway was not easy to cross. Once I reached it, I looked both ways before crossing (which is a rule that we all learned from watching Sesame Street). Luckily, the highway was clear, so I had no trouble. The creature was now in view. I saw my sister under one of his "arms," and my dog yapped while nipping his "heels."

The windmill loomed above me like a giant. Its grand propellers spun lazily. I gritted my teeth and ran to the stairs, which led to the front door. As I mounted the first of many stairs, I noted how close the paper was. I continued climbing until I was at the top. I leaned over the railing and aimed my metal tube. "Readddddy........ Aiiiiiiiimmmmm.........." the plastic packet came closer, and I got a better look at him. It was my packet of paper all right. He was about eight feet tall, and his plastic casing had sprouted plastic arms, legs, and antennae. He had a nose, mouth, fingers, and toes, and his eyes were at the end of the two long "antennae." He was dripping plastic everywhere, and it was obvious that he was melting.

"Fire!!!" I yelled as I hurled the vacuum apparatus at him. It whipped around in circles, the hollow tube producing a deep whistle from the air passing around its ends. A propeller circled down and deflected my shot! I stared, not believing my luck. I heard a large WHUMP!!!, and realized that it was not a total loss. When the propeller lifted skyward, resuming its unending route, my target was gone! My sister lay on the ground, obviously shaken by the experience. "Christina!" I yelled down to her from my two-story perch. "Where did it go?" She looked at me and shrugged. Heidi answered my question by barking into the sky. I ran down the stairs, two at a time, and joined them. I shaded my eyes and looked up, laughing at what I saw. There was my paper, stuck by melted plastic to the gigantic propeller. He made a sound that I had never heard a packet of paper make (then again, I've never heard a packet of paper make any sound at all).

I grabbed the vacuum cleaner tube and stood clear of the propellers' path. When the monster came down again, I held the pipe like a baseball player up at bat. I tensed all of my muscles, ready for the swing. His face looked hurt and confused, and I found myself lowering the "bat." I turned away as the paper began his third trip around the sky. His actions and expressions reminded me of a movie: Frankenstein. I couldn't bring myself to hurt him, but I couldn't afford not to; what if he got loose and began hurting people?

My dog barked continuously, so I ordered her to be quiet. She was obviously enjoying herself and ignored me. I rolled my eyes. I helped Christina up, and we both looked at the monster. He closed his eyes, and a teardrop of melted plastic squeezed out from between his eyelids. It fell at our feet and solidified. I picked it up. It looked like a transparent Hershey's Kiss about the size of my fist. The monster let out one last wail, and then a miracle occurred.

He began to shrink.

His features disappeared slowly, and soon he was the size of a normal packet of paper. When the paper came around for another pass, I reached out and grabbed it, tearing it from the wood of the propeller. My sister and I stared at it for a few minutes, and Heidi smelled it curiously. After looking at the windmill one last time, we headed for home.

After arriving home, there were still a few problems left, as there always are after a conflict. First, there was my window. I had no idea what to do about it. I would obviously need to get new glass, but how would we tell our landlord? He's always been a nice guy, but how would we tell him how the window got broken in the first place? Second, there was the hole in the fence. The problem there was the same as the broken window. Third, and biggest of all: my parents. We had no idea what to tell them. We ended up telling them the truth, but that didn't work to well.

Our souvenirs were the bent vacuum cleaner tube, and the plastic teardrop, which sits atop my desk. As for the paper, I left it in the package. I still buy a packet or two when needed, but the mutation process has never reoccurred. Thank goodness for that! My dog still barks whenever she sees looseleaf paper, but still no one believes the adventure Christina, Heidi and I had.

Chapter VII

Giant Chopsticks From the Planet Mars

It was a cold January day, and I was in my last period of the day: gym. The day had been normal compared to most. I had taken a test in Mathematics, and a test in German I. When school was over, I hopped onto the GK bus to go to soccer practice. After two hours, soccer practice ended and I departed from my teammates and waited for my mom. After five minutes or so, my mom showed up in our blue van. Once we arrived home, I went to my room to begin my homework. Nothing strange; my day was proceeding exactly as planned. My mom called my sister and I for dinner. As I walked into the kitchen, I smelled lasagna. If there's anything in this universe that I like more than anything in this universe, it's lasagna. I set the table and sat down in my chair. Our kitchen was small, but big enough. My dad came in, and I asked him what he'd been up to. He said he had been working on the computer. My sister strolled in after Mom called her a third time, and she got a quick lecture on being prompt to dinner.

Usually, my sister dominated the dinner conversation, but tonight she was rather quiet. Now that I think about it, we were all quiet. That tends to happen when everyone likes the dinner.

After dinner, everyone argued over who's turn it was to do the dishes. I lost, and ended up doing them. Christina went to do whatever she was doing before dinner, my dad went downstairs to finish his computer work, and my mom helped me with the kitchen (she always ends up cleaning up the kitchen no matter whose turn it is).

When I was done doing the dishes, and my mom had inspected my job, I hurried back to my room to finish my homework. I was halfway through a math problem, when I heard a crash downstairs. I got up and went to the stairwell. "Dad?" I called into the basement.

"What was that, Teddy?" my mom asked from the kitchen.

"Beats me, Mom." I replied. "It came from the basement."

"What did Dad say happened?" she asked.

"I don't know, he isn't answering."

"Well, go check on him!" she said.

"Okay." I ran down the stairs, and into Dad's study. I came to a screeching halt. The room was filled ankle-high with white rice! The window was open, and the computer monitor was cracked in half. A fizzle from a broken wire in the monitor shattered the silence that hung in the air. "Mom!" I called at the top of my lungs. "You better come take a look at this."

"Where's Dad?" she said as she scrambled down the stairs.

"I don't know." I said. Christina came slowly down the stairs, wrapped in towels. She had obviously just got out of the shower.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Dad's gone!" I replied.

"He's probably just in the bathroom or something." Christina always had an answer for everything.

"Good idea." I said, and ran up the stairs. Meanwhile, my mom was talking to my sister.

"Why are you in towels?" she asked.

"I wanted to surprise you by taking a shower without being told, but with all of the commotion, I didn't think you'd care." my sister replied.

"Sorry, Sweetie," my mom said, "but you have to admit that a missing father, a study full of rice and a cracked monitor are more important and mind-consuming than a daughter taking a shower."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Just then, I came running down the stairs.

"Mom!" I cried. "Mom! Dad's gone! He's not upstairs!"

"Okay, don't panic." she said.

"Well, maybe he went out the window." Christina suggested.

"Maybe." Mom said.

"I'll check." I offered, running up the stairs.

"Me too!" my mom followed me up to the ground floor.

"I'm going to go get dressed." Christina said, running to her room.

I ran to the back door, and opened it. I was given an icy blast of freezing January air. I ran outside, with my mom following. My dog had heard the commotion, and trotted out the door behind us. Already, the sky was black and filled with stars. As I ran to the fence, I noticed a bright light in the field. Christina ran out of the house with a pair of binoculars. I grabbed them. "Thanks, Christina." I said.

When I looked through them at the light, I couldn't believe my eyes- literally. I gave them to my mom, to be sure that I was seeing things. "Teddy!" She yelled. "Did you see what I'm seeing?"

"I think so."

"Did you see a large rectangular spaceship?"

"I think so."

"Did you see Dad?"

"I think so."

"How about giant pieces of lumber pushing him around?"

"I think so."

"Are you listening to me?"

"I think so."

I was in a daze. I had seen everything that my mom had. "Mom, were those pieces of lumber wearing Japanese clothes?"

"Yes." She handed the binoculars to Christina.

"Was the ship covered with Japanese writing?" I continued.

"Yes." She replied.

"You guys are both wrong," stated Christina, "those are pieces of lumber, they're Chopsticks!"

"I don't know about that," I said, "but then again, the study was filled with rice."

"Well what are we waiting for?" my mom questioned.

"Beats me." I said.

"Lets go!" yelled Christina.

Chapter VIII

Giant Chopsticks From the Planet Mars

Episode 2

We all hurried back into the house. I ran to the garage and grabbed my dad's chainsaw. My mom put my dog on a leash, and Christina got the hollow vacuum-cleaner tube.

"Let's go!" I said with a swing of the chainsaw. We ran out the front door, and circled the house until we reached the back. From there, we ran through the field towards the spaceship. Suddenly, my dog began to bark repeatedly.

"What's the matter, Heidi?" asked my mother. My dog barked in reply. We stopped running for a second. Suddenly, two giant Chopsticks leaped up from their hiding spot in the grass. They pointed strange looking weapons at me, and I looked at the chainsaw. I looked it up and down for a button or lever of some kind.

"Uh-oh." I mumbled. "Retreat!!!!" I bellowed. We ran away as fast as we could. "Gee Mom," I panted, "I didn't know that you could run so well!"

"Forget my running ability for the moment. Now look at this chainsaw! It works just like a lawnmower!" my mom replied.

"Oh! So that's what this string is for!"

"You got it!" I stopped suddenly. So suddenly, in fact, that the Chopsticks ran right past me. I snickered and growled as I pulled the cord. The chainsaw growled with me. I laughed like a villain from an after-school cartoon show.

"I have you now!" I said. I followed the Chopsticks and slashed at them with my chainsaw. I missed again and again. The chainsaw was getting heavy. Just as I was about to swing again, I felt a burning sensation on my back, and them my whole body went numb. I'd been shot! As my muscles stopped responding to my orders, I stumbled and fell. "HELP!!!!!" I screamed.

I watched my sister turn around courageously and face the two chopsticks. They came to a screeching halt. She swung the vacuum-cleaner tube at the two Chopsticks, and both fell to the ground.

The chainsaw was still running in my palm, but I couldn't move to turn it off. Nor could I move to turn my dog off either. I really wanted to though, because her hysterical barking was driving me crazy.

The Chopstick who had shot me ran past and aimed for my sister. He had almost reached her when my dog got loose and viciously attacked him. He fell to the ground. My mom and sister watched.

"Mom!" I screamed. "I'd like some help over here!"

"Coming!" She said, hurrying over, and turned off the chainsaw. She immediately helped me up. Some sensation was returning to my legs, and I hoped my muscles would respond soon. Suddenly, we saw a large ship descending from the sky.

I groaned. "Reinforcements!" My mom looked up at the ship and dropped me. "Ouch!" I cried.

The new ship looked different from the first. It looked like solid wood, and it had oriental writing all over its surface. But like the first, it looked like a giant chopstick. My mom forced herself to look away at the awesome sight of the descending ship to attend my "wound." After three or four minutes, I got up by myself, without my mom's help.

"Hallelujah!" I said quietly. By now the ship filled most of the sky over my house. I scampered as fast as I could towards the Chopsticks that were holding my dad. Soon, I could make out the details of the ship, and its occupants. Most of the Chopsticks were hurrying around, obviously in a hurry. The two that had my dad each held one of his arms tightly. I beckoned to my family to stay hidden. Christina and my mom both came up behind me.

"Where's Heidi?" I whispered.

"She lost interest and went home." my sister replied. Just then, a large hatch in the middle of the ship began to open slowly. Light from inside burst out into the darkness of the cold night. I shuddered. A large silhoutte appeared in the hatchway, and immediately all of the Chopsticks outside dropped to their knee (they each had only one). The silhoutte bellowed something in an oriental language. When he stepped down the ramp, he looked into the sky. His eyes grew large when he saw the ship hovering in the air. This time he screamed in an oriental language, and all of the Chopsticks immediately began scurring around frantically.

The two Chopsticks who were holding my dad heaved him roughly to the foot of the leader. "HEY!" I yelled, standing straight up. It was my dad, after all. But it was a bad move. A Chopstick swiveled around quickly and raised his weapon. He shot me square in the chest. Not again! I thought as the numbing sensation overtook me. My mom caught me from falling. The Chopstick considered shooting her too, but obviously thought better of it, and turned back around. The leader took something out of his oversized sleeve. He moved it up and down my dad's body, and it emitted a high pitched squeal, as well as a thin, red laser. I wanted to get up and disarm the bully, but my muscles wouldn't respond again. My dad was tossed aside, and landed roughly in the dirt. He moaned and rolled over. All of the giant Chopsticks began to climb onto the ship, and with a large roar from the rear engines, the craft lifted of and streaked into the stars. I sighed with relief, but my dad just groaned again.

Chapter IX

Giant Chopsticks From the Planet Mars

Episode 3

The large chopstick vessel that hovered silently overhead began to descend when the other ship was out of sight. The craft's hatch opened, and lots of friendly-looking chopsticks flooded out. They babbled quickly and excitedly in their oriental tongue to my mother and sister. I was laid gently on the ground next to Dad by my mother, who went to "communicate" with the chopsticks.

"Hi, Dad." I said.

"Hi."

"So, do you believe me now about the package of looseleaf paper?"

"Maybe." he responded.

"I don't feel so good." I said.

"Why not?"

"I was shot twice by those Chopstick's paralysis rays."

"I was shot twice too." he replied.

"So you can't move either."

"Nope."

"Well," I said, "do you believe what's happening?"

"No. I think that I'm going to wake up any moment. I guess I fell asleep at the computer. In fact, I don't think that you're even real. You're probably just a figment of my imagination." my dad was being very skeptical.

"Dad, when Mom comes over here and pinches you-" I was cut off by Heidi, who licked my face. "Heidi, cut it out!" I said, unable to push her away. She trotted over to Dad, and began licking his face.

"Okay! I believe that I'm not dreaming! A lick like that would have a better chance of waking me up than a pinch!"

"Good." I was relieved that he finally believed what was happening. "Now let's get Heidi out of here before she licks us raw."

"MOM!!!!!" we both screamed simutaneously.

When we all got home, and the Chopsticks had left, my mom explained. "Well, the Chopsticks said that they were having a minor civil war on Mars, and-"

"Mars?" I asked.

"Yeah, Mars. Anyway, they said that they were having a civil war and that the 'evil' side had come to interrogate Earthlings."

"Earthlings?" I asked.

"Yeah, Earthlings. Anyway, when they saw the 'good' side spacecraft arrive, they immediately prepared for departure and just scanned Dad instead of interrogating him."

"Scanned Dad?" I asked.

"Yeah, scanned Dad. Anyway, they fled, and the 'good' spacecraft is chasing them back to Mars right now."

"Chasing them back?" I asked.

"Yeah, chasing them back. Now get to bed." my mom replied.

"My muscles still hurt, though." I said.

"Yeah, mine too." Dad groaned.

"All the more reason to get some sleep." Christina said. "By the way," she added, "where are those Chopsticks that I took out?"

"They were still alive, so the 'good' guys took them hostage." my mom replied.

"Took them hostage?" I asked.

"Took them hostage. Anyway, it's bedtime."

"Hey Mom," I said, "what about the study?"

"Well," she said as she helped Dad to their bedroom, "We're going to be eating rice for a long time."

Chapter X

The Giant, Wicked, Green, Slobbery Thing That Ate The World

I was writing a letter to my friend, Ben, who lived in Colorado, during lunch break. I hadn't written for weeks, and I was feeling rather guilty.

Dear Ben April 1, 1993

I'm sorry for not writing sooner, but I've been busy. It's lunch break now, but soon it'll be over. In fact, the bell is ringing right now. I'll finish this letter later. Chow Bang.

I put down my pen and hurried to Health class, because my Health teacher hates it when his students are late. I sat down in my seat and pulled out my Health book.

When Coach came in, he immediately sat down at his desk. All of us students looked at him. He looked bad. His face was pale, and a frown was etched into his hardened features.

"Look, everybody," he said after the bell rang, "the reason that I look like this is because I just saw something extraordinary. I was in the lab talking to the professor, and he showed me a student's science project. It was a fungus that was eating dirt. The experiment was to put it under microwaves of radiation until it dies."

Mumbles filled the room. "Sir," one kid asked, "what's so extraordinary about that?"

"Well," replied Coach, "the fungus moved like an animal!"

"Cool!" said Ryan, from the rear of the class.

"Yes, well let's get on with class now." said Coach. "Pull out your books and turn to page-" He was interrupted by the intercom. In a staticy voice it said:

"Listen up in the building! Everyone go to your lockers and retrieve your personal belongings! Then proceed to the parking lot where your buses will pick you up! A strange mold in the science lab has begun to mutate under radiation! It's being taken to a remote wilderness soon, but until then, we must evacuate!"

The lady on the intercom hung up, and fire alarms began to go off all over the school. The hallways were chaos. Students and teachers were running everywhere, and lockers were being opened and slammed shut everywhere. I had to sprint all the way across the school and up three flights of stairs to reach my locker.

I threw the contents of my locker into my bag, and slung it over my shoulder. Then I ran to my bus. On the quiet ride home, I wrote more to Ben.

I'm back now, Ben. There was a terrible mishap at school, and I'm going home even though it's only noon. A kid's science project backfired, and the school had to evacuate. Rumors are that it is a mold that moves like an animal and consumes everything in its path. I'm scared, just like everyone else. I'll write more later (if I'm not eaten alive).

Chow Bang.

When I arrived home, I had to explain everything to my family. My mother turned on the radio and listened to the german news for any other information. That night, I felt a rumbling in the ground. My first thought was that it was an earthquake like the one we had earlier in the year. I ran to my window and looked out beyond my house.

The giant, wicked, green, slobbery thing had been let loose! I ran into my parents bedroom, where I found my sister already trying to wake them up. The giant, green, wicked, slobbery thing was coming closer. I looked out of their window. Suddenly, moss on the decorative rocks in the garden ripped from the stones and crashed through the window. They flew across the hall to my sister's bedroom and crashed through her window. From there, they hurtled towards the creature and stuck to his skin. Then I noticed that molds from all over were flying towards him. They seemed to make him bigger, greener, and stronger. Suddenly, the creature stopped and lay still. My mom ran to the phone and called the german "911." Within moments, SWAT teams surrounded the swarmed past our house. When they fired at the monster, he woke up and charged. I felt sorry for the men who got crushed by the montrosity, but I realized that they were okay after the creature had passed over them. Obviously, the creature ate only dirt. When he passed over my house, green ooze oozed down the windows.

Suddenly, the refrigerator door slammed open, and my moldy peanut butter and jelly sandwich from last week crashed through the kitchen window. "NO!!!" I screamed; I new that it would only make him bigger and stronger. I ran after the beast and leaped onto his tail. I was knee-deep in slime! "YUCK!!!" I screamed loudly.

"Teddy!" my family screamed as I was carried off. I slowly climbed towards the front of the creature. Once I reached his head, I could see his destination: AFCENT! Did the fungus want revenge? All I could do is watch.

Police cars "escorted" the beast, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Now that I was on the back of the montrosity, they didn't dare shoot at him.

We were nearly to AFCENT when I noticed something: the creature hadn't yet absorbed my sandwich! It was stuck to his forehead! I heard a sizzling, popping noise, and my sandwich began to smoke. That's when the creature began to shrink.

Dear Ben, April 2, 1993

I won't tell you everything that happened, cause you'll probably see it on the news. Let me just tell you that that's my house that is being run over by the creature. (We have had to replace more windows lately, it's incredible!)

Chow Bang!

Teddy Otero

Chapter XI

My Spelling Mistake That Took Revenge

And now for the last Chapter of this book. I hope you've enjoyed it so far. This story takes place May first of 1993.

It was a sunny day in Europe! The first in months! Incredible! Yippee! And we have to go to school. All of the students at AFCENT figured that the teachers must be slave-drivers. It's very cruel to make kids like us go to school on a sunny day. Several kids were wearing shorts! Including me!

Once at school, we had to take a spelling test. Other than that, the day went smoothly. I went home that afternoon and rode my bike. After that I played soccer. Then my dad barbecued hamburgers. The day was great! I went to bed while the sun was still up. The next day was sunny too, but I had to go to school again.

When Mr. Taylor returned my test, I saw that I had recieved a ninety percent, meaning that I had missed one. The word I missed was "revenge" which I had spelled "reveng." Oh well, simple mistake.

That night we went to the Hine's house for dinner. We had a great time. It was Friday night, and we stayed until eleven o'clock. When we returned home, I noticed smoke pouring out of the house. So did the rest of my family. But the smoke was.... was..... it was pink!

We ran inside, and found that the source was my room! My school bag was filled with pink ooze! Suddenly it caught fire. My room was engulfed in flames. I grabbed the handles and heaved the bag out of my window. Immediately, the field outside my house sparked ablaze. My spelling test sat on the floor. Of my room, and despite the flames, wasn't even singed. I covered my mouth and ran from my room. I noticed my mom calling the german fire department. My sister and dad were filling buckets of water to douse the fire in my room. I helped. When the fire department had put out the field fire, and we had put out my bedroom fire, I went back into my room. I grabbed my spelling test and crumbled it. Pink smoke flowed freely from the wad of paper. I through it in my trashcan, and the trashcan caught on fire! I brought in another bucket of water and put it out.

As I sat on the end of what was left of my bed, I looked at my room. It was destroyed. Then it hit me. I jumped up and ran to the trashcan. I took out the test and layed it flat on my desk. I erased my mistake, and corrected it. Suddenly the purple smoke surrounded me, and I found my self in Mr. Taylor's classroom.

"Number seven," he said, "revenge." Everyone wrote on their papers. I looked down at my desk. There was my spelling test, and the date read May first! My spelling mistake was giving me another chance! This time I spelled it correctly. I made sure.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Theodore M. Otero IV was born on December 6, 1979, in Enid, Oklahoma. Due to his father's career in the military, he has lived in Oklahoma, New Mexico, England, Idaho, Alabama, Arizona, and currently resides in Germany. He attends the ninth grade at Bitburg American High School. His hobbies include writing, drawing, constructing models, reading, and playing soccer.