![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
batsutousaiTitle: Feet Off
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batsutousai & Laila
Warnings/Rating: General madness. I'm rating PG-13 because of how crazy it is... ^.^"
Notes: This was...amusing. It was our Creative Writing assignment and I thought I'd post it because it's so funny and everyone could use a laugh... ^.~
So, no, it's not Harry Potter. It's Laila and me having fun making fun of Michael G.
Feet Off
The paper read ‘Meet me at the tree’. Although unsigned, Jenny knew who the person was and she walked over to the only tree on the school grounds, with her head hung down and her twin black braids swinging back and forth before her vision in time with her steps. He was there, Michael, dirty blonde hair too short to be touched by the wind, grey eyes glinting in the sunlight that was glaring down from the clear blue sky. A pair of shoes sat next to his bare, dirt-covered feet making Jenny wonder what he was up to. Something close to a grimace crossed his face when he saw the uncertain way she was walking towards him.
She came to a stop before him, staring at the ground, as if his feet were the most interesting things in the whole world. As Michael opened his mouth to speak, his feet shouted out, “Hey! Stop staring at me! Move your gaze to the hands or something!”
In response to the sudden order, Jenny let out a scream of horror and fled the scene. Michael let out an annoyed sigh. “Dude, I told you to keep your mouth shut when there are other people around! Or do you want the nail clippers again?”
The feet gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, you know you don’t want your poor, clean hands anywhere near me. I might bite them again, after all.”
“Oh, whatever!” He rammed his feet into the nearby shoes and stomped off towards the cafeteria to get some food, ignoring the angry, muffled shouts coming from near the ground.
Michael headed into the restroom before going to get his food because he suddenly had the urge to empty his bowels.
Once finished pleasing his bladder, he headed for the door out of the bathroom, forgetting to clean his hands, which suddenly shouted, “Hey, man! You don’t expect me to live like this, do you? Don’t you have some dignity?!”
Blushing a most horrible shade of red due to the stares he was receiving from his fellow bathroom occupants, Michael proceeded to the sinks to please his angry appendages, whispering, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Please don’t shout in public. You’re getting to be as bad as the feet.”
“Don’t you compare us to those dirty, no good, nasty, monstrosities! We’re nothing like them!” the hands whisper furiously.
A muffled but still audible shout comes from near the ground, “You’d better hope not, you clean freaks! You, who cannot connect with the great nature surrounding us!”
Michael stomped his feet into the ground sharply at the same time as he grabbed a paper towel to roughly dry his hands off. “Enough!” He hissed, wincing, before shooting an innocent smile at the two other fellows in the room and shuffling back out into the hallway, taking the paper towel with him thoughtlessly. He entered the cafeteria, at long last, and was handed a meatball surprise with unidentifiable fermenting objects in it. Looking around he caught sight of Jenny and hurried to take the seat across from her. Once he was seated, he looked up at her and tried to smile an apology for the former talking-feet incident. She merely stared at him from behind her glasses, bracing herself for the next unexplainable feat. Holding his gaze, he reached out for a fork, but instead his hand landed in the meatball surprise.
His hand shouted in annoyance at him, slapping him with the other hand on the face, “Oy! what the hell are you trying to do to me, huh?! gimme a heart attack?! Watch where you’re putting your hands, buddy!!!”
Jenny stared at the attack taking place for a minute before standing and throwing her whole tray on him, with the Jell-O landing square in the middle of his face. She then proceeded to yell, “You are THE freakiest guy I have ever met! You and your… your TALKING LIMBS!!!” In the silence following this proclamation, Jenny turned and marched out of the cafeteria.
Michael remained in his seat for a long moment, staring at his food-covered hands, before standing and also leaving the cafeteria, the weight of the stares from his fellow students heavy on his retreating form. Once freed of the scrutiny, and the indoors, he broke into a run, headed for the tree he’d asked Jenny to meet him at during the beginning of lunch, his sanctuary from the rest of the school. Seating himself on a large root at the foot of the tree, Michael kicked off his shoes, allowing his feet the freedom they desired, and wiped his hands with his shirt.
A sudden tickling sensation came from between his toes and Michael glanced down to see a blade of grass moving as if it had a mind of its own. The feet started giggling, and, irritated at the annoying noise coming from his feet, he reached down to itch them furiously. The hands immediately threw a fit, screaming, “YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT! NO WAY! AND BETWEEN THE TOES TOO! THE TOES!!! THAT’S IT! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ABUSE!!” The feet laughed maniacally but were suddenly cut off when their blood circulation was cut off from the ankles down; the hands had, apparently, started strangling them in outrage.
The feet let out what would have been a blood curdling scream, if only they’d had any oxygen to do so; Michael was only able to watch on dumbfoundedly. That seemed to be the last straw for the feet because they let out an enraged grunt and stomped off, leaving Michael and the hands staring after them in silent shock.
Authors:
batsutousai & LailaWarnings/Rating: General madness. I'm rating PG-13 because of how crazy it is... ^.^"
Notes: This was...amusing. It was our Creative Writing assignment and I thought I'd post it because it's so funny and everyone could use a laugh... ^.~
So, no, it's not Harry Potter. It's Laila and me having fun making fun of Michael G.
The paper read ‘Meet me at the tree’. Although unsigned, Jenny knew who the person was and she walked over to the only tree on the school grounds, with her head hung down and her twin black braids swinging back and forth before her vision in time with her steps. He was there, Michael, dirty blonde hair too short to be touched by the wind, grey eyes glinting in the sunlight that was glaring down from the clear blue sky. A pair of shoes sat next to his bare, dirt-covered feet making Jenny wonder what he was up to. Something close to a grimace crossed his face when he saw the uncertain way she was walking towards him.
She came to a stop before him, staring at the ground, as if his feet were the most interesting things in the whole world. As Michael opened his mouth to speak, his feet shouted out, “Hey! Stop staring at me! Move your gaze to the hands or something!”
In response to the sudden order, Jenny let out a scream of horror and fled the scene. Michael let out an annoyed sigh. “Dude, I told you to keep your mouth shut when there are other people around! Or do you want the nail clippers again?”
The feet gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, you know you don’t want your poor, clean hands anywhere near me. I might bite them again, after all.”
“Oh, whatever!” He rammed his feet into the nearby shoes and stomped off towards the cafeteria to get some food, ignoring the angry, muffled shouts coming from near the ground.
Michael headed into the restroom before going to get his food because he suddenly had the urge to empty his bowels.
Once finished pleasing his bladder, he headed for the door out of the bathroom, forgetting to clean his hands, which suddenly shouted, “Hey, man! You don’t expect me to live like this, do you? Don’t you have some dignity?!”
Blushing a most horrible shade of red due to the stares he was receiving from his fellow bathroom occupants, Michael proceeded to the sinks to please his angry appendages, whispering, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Please don’t shout in public. You’re getting to be as bad as the feet.”
“Don’t you compare us to those dirty, no good, nasty, monstrosities! We’re nothing like them!” the hands whisper furiously.
A muffled but still audible shout comes from near the ground, “You’d better hope not, you clean freaks! You, who cannot connect with the great nature surrounding us!”
Michael stomped his feet into the ground sharply at the same time as he grabbed a paper towel to roughly dry his hands off. “Enough!” He hissed, wincing, before shooting an innocent smile at the two other fellows in the room and shuffling back out into the hallway, taking the paper towel with him thoughtlessly. He entered the cafeteria, at long last, and was handed a meatball surprise with unidentifiable fermenting objects in it. Looking around he caught sight of Jenny and hurried to take the seat across from her. Once he was seated, he looked up at her and tried to smile an apology for the former talking-feet incident. She merely stared at him from behind her glasses, bracing herself for the next unexplainable feat. Holding his gaze, he reached out for a fork, but instead his hand landed in the meatball surprise.
His hand shouted in annoyance at him, slapping him with the other hand on the face, “Oy! what the hell are you trying to do to me, huh?! gimme a heart attack?! Watch where you’re putting your hands, buddy!!!”
Jenny stared at the attack taking place for a minute before standing and throwing her whole tray on him, with the Jell-O landing square in the middle of his face. She then proceeded to yell, “You are THE freakiest guy I have ever met! You and your… your TALKING LIMBS!!!” In the silence following this proclamation, Jenny turned and marched out of the cafeteria.
Michael remained in his seat for a long moment, staring at his food-covered hands, before standing and also leaving the cafeteria, the weight of the stares from his fellow students heavy on his retreating form. Once freed of the scrutiny, and the indoors, he broke into a run, headed for the tree he’d asked Jenny to meet him at during the beginning of lunch, his sanctuary from the rest of the school. Seating himself on a large root at the foot of the tree, Michael kicked off his shoes, allowing his feet the freedom they desired, and wiped his hands with his shirt.
A sudden tickling sensation came from between his toes and Michael glanced down to see a blade of grass moving as if it had a mind of its own. The feet started giggling, and, irritated at the annoying noise coming from his feet, he reached down to itch them furiously. The hands immediately threw a fit, screaming, “YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT! NO WAY! AND BETWEEN THE TOES TOO! THE TOES!!! THAT’S IT! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ABUSE!!” The feet laughed maniacally but were suddenly cut off when their blood circulation was cut off from the ankles down; the hands had, apparently, started strangling them in outrage.
The feet let out what would have been a blood curdling scream, if only they’d had any oxygen to do so; Michael was only able to watch on dumbfoundedly. That seemed to be the last straw for the feet because they let out an enraged grunt and stomped off, leaving Michael and the hands staring after them in silent shock.
no subject
Date: 8/7/05 11:59 (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/7/05 12:06 (UTC)cute
Date: 30/3/06 11:20 (UTC)