Saturday, July 19, 2014

A Funny Story I Wrote when I was Twelve

As the title mentions, I attempted to write a humorous story when I was twelve years old.  The first few paragraphs of it I consider to be quite lame, but after a little while the craziness starts getting to me.  I honestly have no idea what others will think of it.

Some of the grammar and spelling has been corrected, but otherwise it's unchanged.

Chapter 1
I start the case and find the robbers.

July 22, 10:30 AM

Hi!  My name is Dexter Bennet.  I am a private investigator.

Right now I’m being briefed by my boss, Mr. Moneybanks, on a bank robbery.  I ought to be listening to him.  Did you know that listening is a virtue?  It is.  I like to listen.  That reminds me, I’m supposed to be listening to Mr. Moneybanks.  I think it would be a good idea.  I think I will!

“The bank teller said he was about 6 foot 2, had black hair, blue eyes...”

I started to panic.  I had not sleepwalked in a year or so, but I did fit the description of what he described!

“He demanded the money and pointed a Glock at the teller.”

Now my palms were sweating!  I always used a Glock on my assignments.

“He wore black sunglasses.”

Now I was almost shivering with fear.  The color drained from my face. I thought about confessing right there and then, but I waited, just to be sure.

“You okay?” asked Mr. Moneybanks.

Honestly, I was sick to my stomach with fear. I decided to tell him the truth and hope for the best. “Well...I...umm...How do I explain?...Okay,  I didn’t know what I was doing.  I am sorry.  I must have robbed the bank.”

“You WHAT?!”  screamed Mr. Moneybanks.

How did I explain this to him?  I guess I’d just try and hope for the best.  “I’m sorry,” I said.  “I really am.  I must have robbed it in my sleep.”

“What do you mean?  Why do you think you did it?”

“Well, your description fit me perfectly,” I said, beginning to worry even more.

Bwhahahahhahhahahahhahahahahhaahahahahahahha!” Mr. Moneybanks roared with laughter.

How could he do this to me when I had just confessed?  Some people would have lied about it.  I was brave and now I would probably go to jail for a hundred years!  “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha” laughed the doubled over Mr. Moneybanks.

What was so funny?  Why was he so cruel?  He almost choked he was laughing so hard.

Finally he said, “Dexter, You didn’t do it!  The criminal had a large drooping mustache.”

I felt the color returning back to my face.  I felt redder than a tomato.  Mr. Moneybanks laughed and laughed.  I turned redder and redder.  This case was not going so well.

After calming down somewhat, Mr. Moneybanks told me I had an interesting brain.  I did not appreciate that.

“We will pay you well for this job.  Just make sure you don’t arrest yourself,”  he chuckled.

I didn’t get what was so funny.

“There will be a room for you in the Sunnysprings Police Station.  Mr. Krackleberry is the sheriff.  He will help you with anything you need.”

11:10 AM, July 22

As I drove toward Sunnysprings I reviewed the few clues we had: drooping mustache (that was most important to me), blue eyes, 6’2” tall... Wait a sec, how did I know that he was 6’2” tall?  What if he was 6’2” wide?  Why, we could all be looking with the wrong description!

I quickly called Mr. Moneybanks and told him about the the terrible mistake that could be made.  After laughing some more he told me that nobody could be 6 feet wide and rob a bank.  Then he hung up.

That was rude!   The robber could be 6 feet wide and rob a bank. After all, Mr. Moneybanks was fat, and he was active. Sorta.  Well, OK, maybe not 6 feet fat, but we couldn’t rule out the possibility that the robber was 6 feet wide!  I would just keep my eyes open for any 6 foot fat people who were active.

12:00 AM, July 22

I walked into a restaurant in Sunnysprings.  I ordered two hamburgers and sat down.  I slowly scanned the restaurant looking for the bank robber.  At the table next to me sat a husband and his wife.  The man was about 6’2”, had a mustache, but he had blond hair and brown eyes. The woman had black hair and blue eyes.

Hmmmmm. Maybe there had been an error in Mr. Moneybank’s description of the robber.  Maybe there were actually two robbers!  Maybe the man was 6’2” and had a mustache while the woman had black hair and blue eyes!

There!  I’d figured out who the robbers were.  Wouldn’t Mr. Moneybanks be impressed!

Well, I’d have to make sure they were the robbers before I arrested them, but I couldn’t wait to tell them that the jig was up!

Lets see, I would need to be able to track them.  A tracking bug would do well for that.  I pulled one out of my pocket.  It was the size of a nickel and had 'TRACKING BUG' printed in red on it.

Suddenly my attention was drawn to the robber’s table.  They stood up and walked to the counter.  I overheard him complain that they had ordered salads but had gotten hot dogs.

A waitress came and took the hot dogs off the table.  The robbers said they’d be back in a minute and walked out the door.

This was my chance!  I could put the tracking bug on something they would take with them.  Lets see, what could I attach it to?  They’d had a food crisis so maybe I could put it on some of their food. Maybe I could put it on my hamburger and put it on their table!

I shifted my eyes making sure nobody was watching, lifted the burger close to my eyes, and put the bug in it. Ah!  The smell of onion was almost too hard to resist!  I told myself I had to keep control, but the ketchup looked so good!  Before I knew it I had taken a bite out of it!

Now what would I do?  A burger with a bite taken out of it was sure to draw their attention.  A tear slipped down my cheek.  I had probably failed the mission before starting.  Why had I taken that bite?

Wait!  I had another burger!  Relief flooded back into me.  I took a bite of it and spit it out.  I lifted the piece into the spot where I’d taken a bite of the bugged hamburger I had made, but now there was a bite mark on the burger.  I patched it up with ketchup as good as I could.  Maybe these people liked ketchup on top of their burgers. After all, robbers are wierdos.

The robbers’ salads came out.  I quickly put the burger on their table.

After a minute of my anxious waiting, thinking that maybe they had left, they came back in.  I quickly moved back to my seat.

The man sat down and looked at me.  I tried to act like I was not looking at him.

“Were you sitting here?” He asked.

“Yeah. sorry, I wasn’t really thinking.”

The woman tapped her husband and pointed to the burger.  I pretended not to notice.

The man made a strange face and said “Do you know what this burger is doing here?”

Oh-no!  Dread gripped me.  What would I answer?  I quickly took a bite of the other hamburger and made a one minute sign with my finger.  Hmmm.  Should I tell him: I’m sorry sir, but I have to arrest you and your wife for bank robbery?  No, I decided not yet.  I needed more info. Should I tell him I didn’t want it and thought he would?  No, it didn’t sound right.

I got it!  I quickly founded an organization in my mind and said, “I’m part of an organization that give sandwiches out to the poor, the starving, and the homeless.  I thought you might be poor.”

The woman stared at me in shock.  I tried to keep a normal face.  Her face looked so funny.  I might laugh at it.

“We are the richest people in Sunnysprings!”

Well, that made sense, bank robbers had money they’d stolen.

“Why does the burger have bite marks on it?” the man asked.

Another problem!  I quickly found an answer.  “I want people to know what organization gave them the food, so I always take a bite out first.”

The man and woman looked at me, both with weird faces.  I tried not to laugh at these dumb robbers.  Hadn’t they ever heard of giving to the poor?  Hadn’t they ever heard of marking the product or thing the company made or did?

“Well, we don’t want it.” said the man who’s face now looked even funnier then before.

Yet another problem.  I’d have to get the bug to them some other way.

I picked up the bugged hamburger and took a bite.  What was that hard thing?  Suspision filled my mind.  A time bomb? A poisoned coin?  A knife about to spring open?  What was it that the murderer had put in my burger?  It was mine after all!  Not his.  I spit the hard thing onto the man’s plate.  I didn’t want to get the bomb in my face when it exploded!

The couple glared at me and then looked at his plate.  It was my bug.  Depression flooded through me faster than light.

The man looked at me with an expresion demanding an explanation.  “This says tracking bug on it!”

My phone rang.  Whew!  That was close.  I quickly walked away and picked it up.

It was Mr. Moneybanks.  “We found a witness to the crime who was outside the bank.  She says the robber drove a black pickup.  She is not sure what make or year.”

“Don’t worry about it,”  I said.  “I found the robbers.  Yes, there as a mistake in the report I was given!  There were two robbers.”

I was sure you could hear Mr. Moneybank’s yell ten blocks away.  After telling me that there was only one robber, he hung up.  I decided not to go back inside the restaurant.

Chapter 2

I hope it made you laugh!  If it did, post a comment saying so.  If not, try reading it out loud to someone else.  Read it slowly and try to imagine the story actually happening.  ;-)

There have been several times that I tried to write chapter two, but could never get it to sound right.

Proverbs 17:22 says that a merry heart does good, like a medicine.  Whether you thought my story was very dry or extremely hilarious, I think it's important to remember that while humor is good, only spiritual joy is really lasting.  Other joys can fade away, but the joy that is the fruit of the Holy Spirit will stay even while going through tough times.  (BTW, I'm doing very well right now :D Praise be to God!)

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