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Thunder's Bad Day in School
November 23rd, 2005 / #awesomeness, #badgrammar, #books
In honor of my 18th birthday, I thought I’d take the opportunity to show you how my genius has remained steadfast throughout my growth. Take, for example, an epic piece I wrote in kindergarten. For 12 years, it has made readers laugh, cry, and inevitably learn something about themselves and the state of mankind.
Consider the following (text in bold, comments in italics):
comments (10)
“Thunder’s Bad Day in School,” by Casey Peterson
Note: Thunder is a brontosaurus, and does not resemble in any way the stupid tyrannosaurus rex sticker my teacher slapped on at the end. Gosh.
“Thunder, sit down!” the kids say. So he sat down. Uh oh! Gum on the seat! Thunder is stuck on the seat on the bus.
Notice the detail given to that piece of gum. It’s not just a blob, like the rest of the photo, but actually resembles a chewed wad of Bubblicious. The idea there was that the reader would focus upon that main piece while the other parts of the picture sort of revolve around it.
The driver has to unscrew the bus seat because Thunder is stuck to the seat. Then, as he got to the bus driver’s seat, he couldn’t get through the door. So he had to walk sideways through the doorway.
No human elements were introduced into the picture like the bus driver’s hand to portray the insatiable sentiment of loneliness in a dreary and unforgiving world that Thunder is experiencing presently. Also, the basic ideals of the three-element plot that is implemented in many, many fairy tales begins to take shape here. Problem 1: Gum on the seat. Problem 2: An immovable seat. Problem 3: You’ll see.
When Thunder got to school, he got off the bus, he got into his red line, he got inside the school, and he sat down in his cubby. Then, he gets stuck in his…
To clarify, the “red line” is a colloquialism to my particular elementary school, as it was a line painted on the ground upon which you were until the school opened its doors in the morning. Also, it was cool at my school to sit in your “cubby,” which was pretty much a locker sans door and made of pressed cardboard. We hung our lunch boxes there. You should pay special attention here to the suspense implemented by the discontinuation of the final sentence. Even in kindergarten, I knew that suspense is a vital component necessary for making any climax more exaggerated.
Cubby! Then he goes home with the cubby on his back and the bus seat on his bottom.
Problem 3 has arrived! It’s the cubby on the head, which is pretty much the oldest trick in the book. I like how suddenly I changed my mind about the type of dinosaur Thunder is, which caused me to draw him like Nessie of Loch Ness fame. I did this to convey the inherent feeling of belittlement within Thunder: with the entirety of the world looking upon him, he had to come to terms with the fact that the being he had become was totally different from the Brontosaurus that got on the bus that morning. He was now devoid of all confidence and made his sojourn home, dejected and alone.
By Casey Aostin Peterson, C.A.P.
I included my picture along with Thunder’s on this page to convey the message that Thunder’s tale is not an isolated event. Deep down, aren’t we all a little like Thunder, green and herbivorous? Also, I used the less common spelling of my middle name to make it look fancy and European.
The End
This piece serves two purposes. There’s the obvious fact that it exists to formally end Thunder’s tale of hope and heartache, but there’s something deeper in the conglomeration of pictures gathered below the text. The rain clouds, rain, and mud all serve to convey a motif of sadness and hatred, but the smiling sun in the midst of all of Mother Nature’s fury hints at a small bit of hope: hope that Thunder had, hope that the author has, and hope that, I think, exists deep down in the hearts of every person who is to read this classic piece of modern American literature.
There are 10 comments. Such a lively discussion!
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How's It Going To Be by Third Eye Blind
Hmm, you sure that wasn’t first grade… I remember Bridabell making us do that stuff too. Mine was about shooting deer and I drew the confederate flag… hmmm
Yeah, you could be right. My memory sucks.
If that’s from first grade, then your the most retardedest person ever.
Must… not… point out grammatical error…
I applaud your creativity. When I had about the same assignment at about the same age, my book ended up being about how I hated my sister. Fiction was beyond me at that age.
Happy belated birthday.
http://img402.imageshack.us/img402/2153/retardedest8ky.jpg
Isn’t that a good picture I drew of Casey?!
you are a genius
Could that book be any cuter? I love your analysis of it too. I especially like the chewed up piece of Bubbalicious. I wrote a “book” in first grade called “Cover Your Mouth” that was about a kid with a cold. Anyway, had to tell you I was giggling like crazy reading your story and the comments.
I enjoy this one the most