katya
06-02-2004, 05:11 PM
You ever have to take an exam, then you end up with an hour left over to do *nothing*? Well, I do, all the time! Like this exam week! Here are some of the results! Most (well, all) of them are a quite silly, but maybe interesting? Anyway, here's the English class study period story:
Smelikin Pelikin
The forest showed no sign of ending. Mr. Pelikin trudged on, not seeming to mind that he had been walking for seven hours straight already.
"Isn't it good to be lost in the wood?" he thought to himself, forming his thoughts into words solely for the sake of making a rhyme.
A small bird sound escaped from a nearby pine tree. Looking in its direction with the curiosity of a small child, he searched for the little fellow, trying to get a good look at this singing feathered oddity.
Slowly, carefully, he pushed aside the branches. He smiled, a carefree smile Ea small red bird, bright as the sun, seemed to smile back. Mr. Pelikin was astonished to find that the bird could do more than just sing.
"The wind, the sun, the void. Beckoning you into the blackness. The light of the Armageddon Flower drains away into the deep shadow of torment," the bird chanted, glowing more bright by the second.
Hardly fazed, Mr. Pelikin replied, "Well, I don't know about that. Sounds like you pulled it out of your hat, mister bird on a branch, and third one down all around from the ranch that I heard in my memory, walking in the forest today so green. I say, do you have a better way to say as you mean?"
"Your most precious rooster, your sunshine on the valley of Holy Light, struck down on the eve of the Millennium Eye."
Mr. Pelikin just laughed, and started to walk away.
"What a peculiar fellow!" he though to himself. "And his feathers so red, his beak so yellow!"
He stopped, his curiosity wrestling with his desire to find his way out of the forest.
"Oi, Mr. Yellow Beak! Hearken! Me says you ought to speak, a bit more. Not too much, to be sure. For two is enough for today I say Etwo minutes, no more."
"The Great Will has spoken," it said, and was silent.
"Aren't you an odd goose? No more foul fowl is there than he who will not stay for tea and talk with his old friend, not moose of waboose, but me, Smelikin Pelikin!"
With that, he took his leave. That silly bird talked nothing but nonsense, or so he thought. Mr. Pelikin didn't even like roosters!
At long last, Mr. Pelikin pushed himself through the last of the brush and trees that made up the twisted old forest. Cheerily skipping up the steps to his cottage, he whistled a tune, about making scones, incidentally.
All cheer soon left him, however, when he opened the door. Mrs. Pelikin lay dead on the floor. The joy turned instead to ecstasy and this said he, "Praise be! Now the narrator rhymes just like me!" And so I did, and so I shall, to preserve the happiness of an old pal. THE END
EDIT: "waboose" is rabbit in some Native American language
Smelikin Pelikin
The forest showed no sign of ending. Mr. Pelikin trudged on, not seeming to mind that he had been walking for seven hours straight already.
"Isn't it good to be lost in the wood?" he thought to himself, forming his thoughts into words solely for the sake of making a rhyme.
A small bird sound escaped from a nearby pine tree. Looking in its direction with the curiosity of a small child, he searched for the little fellow, trying to get a good look at this singing feathered oddity.
Slowly, carefully, he pushed aside the branches. He smiled, a carefree smile Ea small red bird, bright as the sun, seemed to smile back. Mr. Pelikin was astonished to find that the bird could do more than just sing.
"The wind, the sun, the void. Beckoning you into the blackness. The light of the Armageddon Flower drains away into the deep shadow of torment," the bird chanted, glowing more bright by the second.
Hardly fazed, Mr. Pelikin replied, "Well, I don't know about that. Sounds like you pulled it out of your hat, mister bird on a branch, and third one down all around from the ranch that I heard in my memory, walking in the forest today so green. I say, do you have a better way to say as you mean?"
"Your most precious rooster, your sunshine on the valley of Holy Light, struck down on the eve of the Millennium Eye."
Mr. Pelikin just laughed, and started to walk away.
"What a peculiar fellow!" he though to himself. "And his feathers so red, his beak so yellow!"
He stopped, his curiosity wrestling with his desire to find his way out of the forest.
"Oi, Mr. Yellow Beak! Hearken! Me says you ought to speak, a bit more. Not too much, to be sure. For two is enough for today I say Etwo minutes, no more."
"The Great Will has spoken," it said, and was silent.
"Aren't you an odd goose? No more foul fowl is there than he who will not stay for tea and talk with his old friend, not moose of waboose, but me, Smelikin Pelikin!"
With that, he took his leave. That silly bird talked nothing but nonsense, or so he thought. Mr. Pelikin didn't even like roosters!
At long last, Mr. Pelikin pushed himself through the last of the brush and trees that made up the twisted old forest. Cheerily skipping up the steps to his cottage, he whistled a tune, about making scones, incidentally.
All cheer soon left him, however, when he opened the door. Mrs. Pelikin lay dead on the floor. The joy turned instead to ecstasy and this said he, "Praise be! Now the narrator rhymes just like me!" And so I did, and so I shall, to preserve the happiness of an old pal. THE END
EDIT: "waboose" is rabbit in some Native American language