The Tallest Story In the World

By Bradley

“What a tall story!” Mallory said to me. I ran away as the bell rang and we had to get to class. He was talking  about my essay for homework, the one about the tallest story in the world. I walked towards the school as I was outside. Grey clouds loomed over us. Raindrops splattered on my face as I looked up. I ran inside and went to my Classroom. Naturally I had to hit my head on the entrance well being 2m 51 of course I would. Everyone laughed and teased me about my height all going like “Ha he can't even duck! I wonder how many growth spurts he has had?” Said the rude guy George, I liked to remain anonymous so my parents told the principal I was Jake, not... No I’m not gonna’ tell you because I don’t want to and plus like I said. I want to remain anonymous. Back to the real time story. (Time for tense and character change.)

 I was called up first to read my essay. I stumbled on George’s bag and he laughed at me, of course i scowled at him and I cried because he hurt my knee with a toy arrow Everyone laughed at my ugly horribly red face of pure ugly. I stood up at the front of the class; getting self-conscious and wondering if my butt was too big. If my nose was big and if I was FABULOUS enough and if my face was still ugly as where the sun don’t shine. I started reading my story.

Back in the day when there were dinosaurs roaming around and Cavemen patrolling the earth, there was one person who wasn’t obsessed with clubs (the melee type not the group clubs) and leopard skins. His name was Frankenein, and he loved farming tools, such as the scythe and the hoe and seed silos finally he especially loved the tool called shovel. He picked up his Scythe and started reaping crops. Wheat fell to the ground in dead clumps as he gathered them. He used the hoe on the ground where it was needed and shoveled some dirt and put seeds in the silo, canister thing and went inside to bake the wheat and make bread in the clay furnace. He opened up the clay furnace. ‘What’s a hoodackey doing in there?’ He thought to himself. To moderners like us it would’ve been normal to find a laptop in a house but to him... he didn’t even know what it was. Modern technology intrigued him and his sloped forehead of ultimate ugliness. He touched it carefully, as if it were to explode. He touched it again. This time he opened it and pressed the small button at the top and it turned on the laptop. It made a quick whirring noise as it turned on and he jumped behind his rock bed for cover. He could see lights coming from it and it had some icon in the top left corner and one next to it.

INTERNET EXPLORER.

After hours upon minutes upon seconds upon milliseconds upon nanoseconds upon whatever’s next after picose and yoctoseseconds of exploring how it worked and somehow getting a connection in his clay/mud house he downloaded lots of games. He knew how to type and what the mouse pad did. In the box that came with it there was a, mouse, a router for better connections and a charger. He plugged the charger in random places until he found the right one. He then put the other end into the top of his house and it worked due to the clay being wet and lightning happening later that day.

As the class applauded George booed and threw random bits of spitball and stuff at me. Mrs Bradley told him to get out in the hallway and to stop picking on me. He went outside. Mrs Bradley called him in 5 minutes later and he walked in, hitting his head on the door so hard he made a dent in the wood. “Who’s short now tallie?” he just blushed and went back to his seat and sobbed.