|The following was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last
name deleted), and Gary (last name deleted).
(first paragraph by Rebecca) At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea
she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at
home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that
he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off
Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much
her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
(second paragraph by Gary) Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader
of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things
to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie
with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to
Geostation 17,....", he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar
orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could
sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through
his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his
seat and across the cockpit.
(Rebecca) He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he
felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had
ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities
towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently
Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning.
The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window,
dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with
no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent
wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's
innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
(Gary) Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its
lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral
Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless
target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human
race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were
on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet.
With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium
fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret
Mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt
the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and
85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference
table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em
out of the sky!"
(Rebecca) This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature.
My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing
are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh shall I have chamomile
tea? Or shall I have some other sort of fucking TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air
headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels."
(TEACHER) A+ - I really liked this one. Only group to get an