:B
Some people *cough cough* look impossibly uberly cute when they sleep.
<3
Sleepy sleepy, 1st period.
My children's story for creative writing class...!In the small town of Fromage, there lived a little man named Monsieur Dejuener. He was 5 feet, 2 inches tall. He was a strange man who loved to try new things. On good days, he pretended to be a sea pirate.
Monsieur was out walking one glorious Friday in May The sun was shining, the birds were frolicking. Monsieur was trying to dance the mambo while whistling a happy little tune. (A song from his favorite record album, Flamingos of the Seaweed, no doubt).
All was normal for Monsieur.
Then a thrilling event shattered Monsieur’s peaceful bubble of normal! (Quite literally, in fact, since he had happened to waltz into a big soapy one which was sitting on the path). The bubble popped, Monsieur’s eyebrows shot up, and he twiddled his thumbs with joy.
Monsieur had seen a sign! And not just any sign, oh ho!
It said: [drawing] A GO-KART RACE TO THE FINISH! FIRST PRIZE: ALL THE ICE CREAM YOU COULD EVER HOPE TO EAT, FOR YOUR LIFETIME! THIS SATURDAY, AT THE MAIN TOWN SQUARE! ANY TYPE OF GO-KART YOU CAN DREAM UP IS ALLOWED, AS LONG AS IT IS OF YOUR OWN MAKING! COME ONE, COME ALL, TO THIS EXCITING EVENT! 10:00 AM, SHARP!
Now, Monsieur was very happy. He liked building things. He liked races. And he just plain loved trying something new! His little mustache curled even more in excitement just thinking about the race!
“Egads!” he shouted. I must get to work right away! The race is tomorrow, and not a moment to waste!
So Monsieur raced home as fast as his little legs would take him, not stopping to dilly-dally on the dance moves or orchestras going on in his head.
When Monsieur arrived at home, he thought to himself, “Now what could I make my go-kart out of?”
He searched around his house, the horrific jumble of things all around only inspiring him more. Darting this way, and that way! Over and under his odd furniture and belongings! He searched all over for things to make a perfect go-kart out of.
Alas, Monsieur turned up empty-handed, scratching his head and pulling at his mustache in dismay.
“I simply cannot find what I need here!” he said.
Monsieur sighed, sat down in his comfy chair, and thought hard about this problem.
“I know! I’ll just have to go out and search for things to make it with!” he exclaimed.
So Monsieur Dejuener grabbed his pink umbrella and his pirate eye-patch from the coat rack (He reckoned himself as a modern-day pirate who had to dodge raindrops rather than tidal waves) and went out the back door, intending to head for the woods to search for precious “perfect” ingredients.
Monsieur didn’t even set foot in the woods. Why, he didn’t even get two feet out his back door!
There was a giant lemon in front of him, blocking his path, and taller than he (about five feet tall, since the Monsieur was only about four feet, five inches tall).
“Sach le bleur!” exclaimed the Monsieur. THAT’S THE PERFECT INGREDIENT FOR MY GO-KART!
Monsieur hopped up and down, barely containing his joy.
Now, Monsieur didn’t question from whence the lemon came, or even more so, how it happened to be in his backyard in the first place. He rolled it into his garage (huffing and puffing, of course, as he often neglected to do his exercises) and went to work on transforming it into the perfect go-kart right away.
~A few hours later~
Monsieur rolled the giant lemon, now equipped with bouncy rubber wheels, among other things, out of his garage.
“Magnificent! A vehicle fit for a king!” said he.
Oh, it truly was! Monsieur had done an outstanding job. He had carved a cockpit out of the front of the lemon and added important safety accessories such as headlights, taillights, rearview mirrors, and wheels. He had even crafted an ingenious system to power the by lemon by its own juice! Now there was nothing to do but wait for the race tomorrow.
“I can hardly wait!” said the Monsieur.
At last, the next day arrived. Monsieur proudly pushed his lemon go-kart (struggling a bit, since he didn’t want to fire it up yet) to the town square. There were other racers there with go-karts of all shapes and sizes, and Monsieur’s was the weirdest!
“Ho ho ho!” he chuckled. I’ll win this race yet!
“LADIES AND GENTS, LINE UP AND START YOUR ENGINES!” blared the announcer’s voice over the microphone.
The townspeople who had built go-karts lined up in the middle of the town square, while the rest of the town stood on the side to cheer them on. The engines roared to life and hundreds of hearts pounded in excitement, everyone waiting for the race to begin.
“ON YOUR MARKS! GET SET!” the announcer’s voice came over the microphone, waiting for the clock to tick to 10:00 AM sharp.
“And GO!” shouted the announcer, as the clock ticked to 10:00 AM.
There was a mad rush as the fifty or so go-karts zoomed off down the main road of town, each trying to get ahead of each other first.
But where was Monsieur? Why, he was still sitting at the starting line. He had fallen asleep! Poor Monsieur Dejuener!
The crowd of people began yelling at him trying to wake him up, but Monsieur slept on until a boy threw a bucket of water on him.
Startled, Monsieur Dejuener slammed his foot on the gas and his lemon took off the fastest of all the go-karts! A pity he was so far behind.
“Never fear!” heard the crowd as Dejuener grew farther and farther away.
“I’ll make it! Like a jar of mayonnaise!”
The crowd exchanged hushed whispers with each other about the outcome of the race. Who would win? Who would be last? Would Monsieur Dejuener come in first with his strange lemon-mobile? Why was he talking about mayonnaise, an ideal sandwich condiment, at a time like this!?
In the mean time, Monsieur Dejuener was rocketing along just fine. In fact, he had already muscled his way to the front of the race. He was in first place, for the time being.
That’s when his lemon started to run out of juice.
Horrified, Monsieur checked the juice-o-meter on his dashboard. It was definitely falling at a faster rate than could sustain the lemon-kart’s power! The lemon began going slower. And slower. And slower. Until the rest of the racers past him and the lemon squirted to a squelchy stop.
Monsieur was devastated. He was disappointed. But most of all, he was frustrated with the fact that his greatest creation, the lemon-kart, had failed him so! What was Monsieur Dejuener to do?
Did Monsieur sit there and cry?
No!
Did he curse at his lemon for bringing this injustice down upon him?
No!
Did he make a sandwich with his oh-so-coveted mayonnaise?
No! (Though this would have been quite the acceptable option, given his circumstances).
Monsieur made lemonade out of his lemon!
The townspeople, who had already witnessed the end of the race (Percy Peskington had already won in his Super Happy Star Mobile), went looking for Monsieur. They found him on the side of the road, selling lemonade.
Everyone bought some.
They all agreed that it was the best lemonade they had ever tasted.
As for Monsieur Dejuener? He took the money he made from the lemonade (25 cents a cup!) and devoted the rest of his life genetically engineering lemons to grow to enormous and unearthly proportions, then making delicious lemonade out of them. He and his thousand pet cats (which he acquired shortly after the lemon incident) now live happily on his giant lemon farm at the edge of the town of Fromage.
To this day, Monsieur can be heard quoting readily, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!”
He will then wink slyly and whisper to you, “Then put it in a water gun and squirt people in the eyes!”
A happy ending for Monsieur Dejuener, but not you, my friend! Especially if you happen to cross his path one day as he is wielding his water gun full of lemonade!
It's REALLY CORNY ^^;; BUT YEAH! :D
My friends' colors:
_tearstain
abab
alaviathan
amianiss
atomictoilet
bongobeatchic
cabbitt
chainsawjackal
challa
dielure
dwapook
elaina73
frailrobotlove
hitemu
leg_wax
natsumi14
nethery
nikkisixx
onesoloist
otarukay
riptor
sarahsaturn
testdepartment
xnostalgia
zeostar_plus
Find out what color your friends are!
<3
Sleepy sleepy, 1st period.
My children's story for creative writing class...!In the small town of Fromage, there lived a little man named Monsieur Dejuener. He was 5 feet, 2 inches tall. He was a strange man who loved to try new things. On good days, he pretended to be a sea pirate.
Monsieur was out walking one glorious Friday in May The sun was shining, the birds were frolicking. Monsieur was trying to dance the mambo while whistling a happy little tune. (A song from his favorite record album, Flamingos of the Seaweed, no doubt).
All was normal for Monsieur.
Then a thrilling event shattered Monsieur’s peaceful bubble of normal! (Quite literally, in fact, since he had happened to waltz into a big soapy one which was sitting on the path). The bubble popped, Monsieur’s eyebrows shot up, and he twiddled his thumbs with joy.
Monsieur had seen a sign! And not just any sign, oh ho!
It said: [drawing] A GO-KART RACE TO THE FINISH! FIRST PRIZE: ALL THE ICE CREAM YOU COULD EVER HOPE TO EAT, FOR YOUR LIFETIME! THIS SATURDAY, AT THE MAIN TOWN SQUARE! ANY TYPE OF GO-KART YOU CAN DREAM UP IS ALLOWED, AS LONG AS IT IS OF YOUR OWN MAKING! COME ONE, COME ALL, TO THIS EXCITING EVENT! 10:00 AM, SHARP!
Now, Monsieur was very happy. He liked building things. He liked races. And he just plain loved trying something new! His little mustache curled even more in excitement just thinking about the race!
“Egads!” he shouted. I must get to work right away! The race is tomorrow, and not a moment to waste!
So Monsieur raced home as fast as his little legs would take him, not stopping to dilly-dally on the dance moves or orchestras going on in his head.
When Monsieur arrived at home, he thought to himself, “Now what could I make my go-kart out of?”
He searched around his house, the horrific jumble of things all around only inspiring him more. Darting this way, and that way! Over and under his odd furniture and belongings! He searched all over for things to make a perfect go-kart out of.
Alas, Monsieur turned up empty-handed, scratching his head and pulling at his mustache in dismay.
“I simply cannot find what I need here!” he said.
Monsieur sighed, sat down in his comfy chair, and thought hard about this problem.
“I know! I’ll just have to go out and search for things to make it with!” he exclaimed.
So Monsieur Dejuener grabbed his pink umbrella and his pirate eye-patch from the coat rack (He reckoned himself as a modern-day pirate who had to dodge raindrops rather than tidal waves) and went out the back door, intending to head for the woods to search for precious “perfect” ingredients.
Monsieur didn’t even set foot in the woods. Why, he didn’t even get two feet out his back door!
There was a giant lemon in front of him, blocking his path, and taller than he (about five feet tall, since the Monsieur was only about four feet, five inches tall).
“Sach le bleur!” exclaimed the Monsieur. THAT’S THE PERFECT INGREDIENT FOR MY GO-KART!
Monsieur hopped up and down, barely containing his joy.
Now, Monsieur didn’t question from whence the lemon came, or even more so, how it happened to be in his backyard in the first place. He rolled it into his garage (huffing and puffing, of course, as he often neglected to do his exercises) and went to work on transforming it into the perfect go-kart right away.
~A few hours later~
Monsieur rolled the giant lemon, now equipped with bouncy rubber wheels, among other things, out of his garage.
“Magnificent! A vehicle fit for a king!” said he.
Oh, it truly was! Monsieur had done an outstanding job. He had carved a cockpit out of the front of the lemon and added important safety accessories such as headlights, taillights, rearview mirrors, and wheels. He had even crafted an ingenious system to power the by lemon by its own juice! Now there was nothing to do but wait for the race tomorrow.
“I can hardly wait!” said the Monsieur.
At last, the next day arrived. Monsieur proudly pushed his lemon go-kart (struggling a bit, since he didn’t want to fire it up yet) to the town square. There were other racers there with go-karts of all shapes and sizes, and Monsieur’s was the weirdest!
“Ho ho ho!” he chuckled. I’ll win this race yet!
“LADIES AND GENTS, LINE UP AND START YOUR ENGINES!” blared the announcer’s voice over the microphone.
The townspeople who had built go-karts lined up in the middle of the town square, while the rest of the town stood on the side to cheer them on. The engines roared to life and hundreds of hearts pounded in excitement, everyone waiting for the race to begin.
“ON YOUR MARKS! GET SET!” the announcer’s voice came over the microphone, waiting for the clock to tick to 10:00 AM sharp.
“And GO!” shouted the announcer, as the clock ticked to 10:00 AM.
There was a mad rush as the fifty or so go-karts zoomed off down the main road of town, each trying to get ahead of each other first.
But where was Monsieur? Why, he was still sitting at the starting line. He had fallen asleep! Poor Monsieur Dejuener!
The crowd of people began yelling at him trying to wake him up, but Monsieur slept on until a boy threw a bucket of water on him.
Startled, Monsieur Dejuener slammed his foot on the gas and his lemon took off the fastest of all the go-karts! A pity he was so far behind.
“Never fear!” heard the crowd as Dejuener grew farther and farther away.
“I’ll make it! Like a jar of mayonnaise!”
The crowd exchanged hushed whispers with each other about the outcome of the race. Who would win? Who would be last? Would Monsieur Dejuener come in first with his strange lemon-mobile? Why was he talking about mayonnaise, an ideal sandwich condiment, at a time like this!?
In the mean time, Monsieur Dejuener was rocketing along just fine. In fact, he had already muscled his way to the front of the race. He was in first place, for the time being.
That’s when his lemon started to run out of juice.
Horrified, Monsieur checked the juice-o-meter on his dashboard. It was definitely falling at a faster rate than could sustain the lemon-kart’s power! The lemon began going slower. And slower. And slower. Until the rest of the racers past him and the lemon squirted to a squelchy stop.
Monsieur was devastated. He was disappointed. But most of all, he was frustrated with the fact that his greatest creation, the lemon-kart, had failed him so! What was Monsieur Dejuener to do?
Did Monsieur sit there and cry?
No!
Did he curse at his lemon for bringing this injustice down upon him?
No!
Did he make a sandwich with his oh-so-coveted mayonnaise?
No! (Though this would have been quite the acceptable option, given his circumstances).
Monsieur made lemonade out of his lemon!
The townspeople, who had already witnessed the end of the race (Percy Peskington had already won in his Super Happy Star Mobile), went looking for Monsieur. They found him on the side of the road, selling lemonade.
Everyone bought some.
They all agreed that it was the best lemonade they had ever tasted.
As for Monsieur Dejuener? He took the money he made from the lemonade (25 cents a cup!) and devoted the rest of his life genetically engineering lemons to grow to enormous and unearthly proportions, then making delicious lemonade out of them. He and his thousand pet cats (which he acquired shortly after the lemon incident) now live happily on his giant lemon farm at the edge of the town of Fromage.
To this day, Monsieur can be heard quoting readily, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!”
He will then wink slyly and whisper to you, “Then put it in a water gun and squirt people in the eyes!”
A happy ending for Monsieur Dejuener, but not you, my friend! Especially if you happen to cross his path one day as he is wielding his water gun full of lemonade!
It's REALLY CORNY ^^;; BUT YEAH! :D
My friends' colors:
_tearstain
abab
alaviathan
amianiss
atomictoilet
bongobeatchic
cabbitt
chainsawjackal
challa
dielure
dwapook
elaina73
frailrobotlove
hitemu
leg_wax
natsumi14
nethery
nikkisixx
onesoloist
otarukay
riptor
sarahsaturn
testdepartment
xnostalgia
zeostar_plus
Find out what color your friends are!