Confirmation that I'm losing it, as if repeatedly posting "day of the week" themed blog posts on different days of the week was not enough: I just tried to make my iTunes volume louder with the TV remote.
Um, and I just did it again, less than a minute later and even after just typing that paragraph. What the hell is wrong with me?
Anyway. The seeds of my madness were sewn long ago, as evidenced by this 1993 story that I stumbled across from my 6th grade English class while cleaning my room. Perhaps even scarier than the crazy story that the 11-year-old me dreamed up were my teacher's comments: Kerri, you are outrageous! This story is worth publishing. I love the way you tied the story elements together. Your characterizations are superb. I received an A+ for content and an A+ for grammar/spelling/proofreading. The assignment was to write a story about Winnie the Pooh, Alta (that was the name of a girl in my class), the mall, bugs, a gun, and whiskers. This is what I came up with.
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"Alta Story" - March 29, 1993
I hate my wife Alta. I don't know why I married her. First of all, she is too nice. She lets bugs invade our home, without asking for my permission first. Bugs are pests, and I'd like to put Alta out with them. Second of all, she'll always win an argument because she'll say that if I don't give in and agree with her, she'll step on me. Her threats work too, because she is much taller than me, and she really could step on me. The only reason why I didn't divorce her yet is because I'm unemployed, and she has a pretty good job, so she supports me.
We live in the mall which, in my opinion, is too cheerful. Alta works in Sears, and our home is right outside of Sears. We have the same meal every day (Burger King), partly because I wouldn't touch anything Alta would cook, and partly because we don't have a stove.
One day, Alta came home from work in a bad mood. "Winnie," she said, "I had a hard day at work. Here's twenty bucks. Go buy us dinner."
I took the money, but then I looked carefully at Alta. She was growing whiskers! I'm a bear, and even I don't have whiskers. I screamed.
I left our "house" and ran away as fast as I could, pushing little kids out of the way, and kicking dogs on leashes. I ran straight to the gun shop on the other side of the mall.
"How much is your cheapest gun?" I asked, out of breath.
The gunshop owner couldn't believe his eyes. "You're Winnie the Pooh!"
"Yeah, I am," I said. "Now how much is your cheapest gun?"
"$19.95," the guy said, pointing to a small pellet gun.
"$19.95? But that's too much! I couldn't even afford dinner if I bought that."
"Too bad," the gun shop owner said.
I grabbed a gun off the shelf and checked to see if it was loaded. It was.
"Give it to me for ten bucks or I'll kill you," I said.
The gun shop owner was shaking with fear. "Here, you can have it for free," he said, shoving the pellet gun into my hands. "Uh, have a nice day!"
I ran out of the store as fast as I could. I heard a kid say, "Mommy, it's Winnie the Pooh with a gun!" The mother screamed and ran off.
When I reached our home, Alta wasn't there. I was mad because I was all ready to kill her. In my anger, I squashed every bug of hers I could find.
I left my home, and checekd every store in the mall looking for Alta. I found her in a drug store, buying razors.
I pulled her out of the store and said, "Alta, shave your whiskers or I'll kill you." Alta screamed and ran to the payphones. She locked herself in a booth and made a call. I sat and waited for her to come out so I could kill her. But she wouldn't come out.
Ten minutes later, the police came and arrested me. They took me to jail.
Considering that Alta lived, but I never saw her again, it was a happy ending for all of us.
Labels: flashback friday, old school
