A Farewell to Pork

11th grade English class. The assignment was to re-write a fairy tale imitating Hemingway's style.

I stood at the entrance to the three pig's house. "Little pig, won't you let me in?"

"You can't come in."

"Let me in. I'll be good."

"You can't. We won't let you in."

"Please let me in. It'll be grand."

"Won't you have some wine? Wine really is grand."

"I shall not have any until you let me in."

"We can not let you in. Let's not talk about that."

"I shall blow down the house. I really shall."

"You still can't come in. Not yet."

I took a deep breath and blew out and out and out. My breath went out swiftly, all of it. Then I breathed and it was back. Again I blew out. Then I was exhausted, and I started to cough.

From inside I heard the laughter of the pigs, and it angered me. I went to the roof to drop down the chimney, but the pigs had set a pot below me and filled it with Kummel, Cognac, and Vermouth, then set it on fire. I landed in the pot, but jumped out and fled. I felt no guilt about abandoning my supper. Although I still have several friends who eat pork, and I wish them the best of luck, it is not my show anymore.

Help, I'm Trapped

This was a creative writing essay for 7th grade English. The assignment was that we were trapped somewhere, and only had three things in our pocket.

I really got into this one. I decided that one of the "things" in my pocket was actually a little ten centimeter man, and went from there. As usual, the amount I wrote far exceeded the actual assignment. I stuck with this for a few days, but I wasn't getting any of the rest of my homework done so I eventually gave up on this, and just tacked on an ending half finished.

This is my first attempt at writing humor, and as you can see the results are mixed. The jokes are really run into the ground. I'd like to think that's just how 7th graders write humor, but maybe it's just me.

Nevertheless, I like this because it is the first piece of writing I have that shows any sense of pacing. Of not rushing on to finish the story, but simply taking my time and enjoying the scene for what it is.

I'm locked in the boy's bathroom. In my pockets are a ball of yarn, a phaser stuck on stun (how I got it is a long story) and a ten centimeter person named Jim.

Jim is a nice, short, good-looking sort of guy. He's a little on the weird side, but most of his midget friends (and me) are willing to overlook that. He has a T.V. show he never misses that's called, "If Midgets Ruled the World." He carries a jackknife everywhere he goes to combat large hungry spiders.

It was Saturday the 14th. Yesterday my friend David mysteriously disappeared after study hall. (For more on that, ask him to read his, "Help, I'm trapped in English class," essay to you.) Detectives had come to search the school for clues and I was one of the many people who came to watch the excitement. Just when everyone was leaving, I had to go to the bathroom. After I did, I found that some smart aleck had locked me in. I called for help, but everybody had left the school.

I leaned against the wall and wondered what jerk had done this to me. As I thought, Jim poked his head out and said in a mocking tone, "Clean your pockets. It stinks down here."

"If you don't like it you can get out," I said, picking him out of my pocket and tossing him up in the air. He landed in a toilet. There was a temptation to flush him down, but I didn't. Instead I helped him out and gave him a paper towel to dry off with.

"You threw me in the toilet on purpose," he angrily accused.

"No I didn't," I said. "I just threw you up in the air. I didn't know where you were going to land. Honest! No hard feelings I hope."

Jim shook himself. "No, I guess not," he replied. "I just wish people would flush this toilet once and a while. May I have another paper towel please?"

"Here, have two," I said as I handed him the paper towels. "We've got to find a way to get out of here."

"Good point," said Jim. "I'm missing my T.V. show."

"It's not for three more hours yet," I pointed out.

"That's how long it might take us to get out," Jim moaned.

"Well then, let's try and get out," I said. We both tried to think of a way to get out. I looked at my surroundings. Two toilets and two sinks were there, and a box of paper towels and a box of kleenexes. A window was three meters up, but even if you got up to it, it was too small to crawl through. I looked at the window, and I looked at Jim (who was still drying himself off) and suddenly a great idea hit me.

I explained it to Jim. "No way," exclaimed Jim as he backed away from me. "I hate heights and , and I could get hurt."

"Fine," I said. "Of course if we don't hurry up and get out, you might miss your T.V. show."

"Let's hurry up and get on with your plan," said Jim excitedly with a hint of reluctance in his voice.

I should explain that my plan is to tie one end of my ball of yarn to Jim's leg. Then throw Jim on the window sill, have him open the window and jump out. He will dangle by the piece of yarn. Then I will slowly lower him down. Once he gets down, he will cut the yarn off his leg and run to get help.

I just finished tying yarn to Jim's leg and was ready to proceed with the rest of my plan when Jim stopped me. "Don't you think we should test how good of a hold this rope has on me?" asked Jim.

"It's yarn Jim not rope," I said. "But I guess you're right about trying it out."

I held a bit of the yarn and let Jim dangle. "I guess it works pretty good," I said, no sooner had the words escaped my lips when Jim's leg slipped through the knot and Jim hit the floor. "Looks like we'll have to make that knot tighter," I said.

"Another sigh that we're dealing with pure brilliance," said Jim sarcastically.

"Listen, do you want to get out or not?" I asked. I finished re-tying the yarn around Jim's leg. "Besides that wasn't funny," I added.

"There, that knot's finished," I said. "Let's try it out." I let Jim dangle and once again the knot failed us and Jim met the floor. I tied the knot again. "There," I said proudly. "I'd like to see that come undone." It came undone. I tried again. "That definitely will hold," I said. "There's no way that will come undone." Guess what happened. I then tied the knot real tight.

"Ouch! Ouch! Stop that! You're cutting off my circulation," protested Jim. "Ouch!"

"Jim calm down," I said. "We got to get it tight or you'll slip right through the knot and hit the floor."

"That part I know," said Jim. "Ouch! Don't tie that stupid, dumb, idiotic knot so tight."

"Let's test this knot now!" I said.

"I hope this works, complained Jim. Call me cranky if you like, but I'm tired of falling into the hard floor."

We tested the yarn and it worked. Then Jim said, "I don't think I want to do this."

"What?" I exclaimed. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now."

"Well, all the tests were I slipped through the yarn made me think that I could slip through the yarn three meters up."

"You're being a wimp," I said.

"I don't care," said Jim. "I'm still not going to do it."

"I'll flush you down the toilet."

"I don't care."

"I'll never give you another piece of food."

"I don't care."

"I'll put you in my pocket and won't let any part of you out."

"I don't care."

"You'll miss your T.V. show."

"On second thought I'll take a risk and try your plan," said Jim, forcing a smile.

I picked Jim up and looked at the window. I took a deep breath and threw Jim at the window as hard as I could. I missed the window and Jim crashed against the wall, then fell down and hit the floor.

Jim sat up rubbing a bruise on his head. "If at first you don't succeed, try try again," I said.

"This stuff is pretty hard on me," complained Jim. "Isn't there a simpler way to do it?"

"Well," I said, "we could wait for school to start on Monday. Of course you would miss your T.V. show twice."

"Let's try again," said Jim. "We might make it this time."

This time, instead of throwing, I picked up the ball of yarn and twirled it over my head. Jim, tied to the other of the yarn, went flying around in circles.

Once I had enough speed I let go and Jim went flying towards the window.

"He's gonna make it," I thought. "He's gonna make..." Jim didn't make it. He crashed into the wall less than two inches short of the wall. He then fell down to the ground.

Dazed, Jim got up. "I don't think my T.V. show is that important," he said. "Besides it might be a repeat."

I paused, then realized that if Jim had given up on his TV show, it would be easy to change his mind. "What if its not a repeat and they never show it again? Of, if they repeat one of the great ones, like Nomes taking over the castle. Come on, let's try again," I said.

"Okay," said Jim. "I threw Jim at the window once more. The handle that opened the window was sticking out. Jim grabbed it. He then pulled himself up to the window sill.

He pushed against the handle and tried to open the window. He pushed against the handle so hard he fell off the window sill. I took my phaser and threw it at the window. The window broke and Jim was able to get out. (I had to throw him again).

He got help and I got out.

The True Story of Little Red Riding Hood

This was in 6th grade. We had been studying legends and fairy tales, and our assignment was to re-write one of the standard fairy tales.

This version of "Little Red Riding Hood" I wrote was heavily influenced ( slash plagiarized) from the Musical "Into the Woods" which my mother had taken me to see earlier that year. But, aside from the idea of Little Red Riding Hood being a chubby candy eating glutton, I think there's enough of my own ideas in this to still call the story my own.

This story was voted the best by my classmates, and so we used it for our skit at the inter-scholastic "Legends and Fairy Tale Conference" (or something like that.) The teacher re-wrote it as a play, and my classmates drew pictures of this story to use as a slide show.

I am the "so-called" big bad wolf in the story of Little Red Riding Hood. Let me tell you the real story.

One day when I was feeling bored, a chubby little girl was skipping through the woods eating as she went. "Where are you going little girl?" I asked.

"I'm just going on a picnic," she said as she flung her red cape around her shoulders.

At this point I was so bored I was willing to do anything. "Can I go on the picnic?" I asked.

"Sure, the more the merrier," chimed the little girl. We went to a nice quiet river and began to chow down. The little girl must have had eyes bigger than her mouth because she packed enough food for days. She ate all the candy and nothing else. I ate nothing because it was all people food, and I just waited patiently for the picnic games.

After the girl polished off the last of the candy, she shook my paw, thanked me for coming, and started back to her house.

"Isn't your mother going to be mad when she sees all you ate was candy?" I called out.

She froze. "You're right," she said. "As long as I'm in the area, I'll drop the rest off at Grandmother's house."

"One more thing," I added. "Aren't we supposed to play games? I didn't come all this way just to watch you eat."

"If you're so big about games," she said, "then we'll play 'Who can get to Granny's house first'. I'll go this way, and you go that way, and the first one who gets to Granny's house wins."

It was a dumb game, but I was so bored I was willing to do anything. I ran like the wind, and would have won but on the way I saw three houses, a straw house, a stick house, and a brick house. I went to the straw house and...

...Well, that's another story altogether. Anyway, to sum it up, I ate two pigs, and almost got cooked myself after a narrow escape. The point is, because of this little detour I came to the house last.

Meanwhile Little Red Riding Hood had gotten to the house first and went inside. Her Grandmother had recently had plastic surgery done on her. But the surgeon was an amateur, and he had equipment problems, and the results were poor grandmother ended up looking very weird. Because of this she was not feeling well and was lying in bed trying to recover.

Little Red Riding Hood went into her grandmother's hut. "Oh, grandmother, what big hands you have," said Little Red Riding Hood.

"The better to hug you my dear," answered the grandmother.

"Oh, grandmother, what big eyes you have."

"The better to see you my dear."

"Oh, grandmother, what big ears you have."

"The better to hear you my dear."

"Oh grandmother, what a big mouth you have."

"The better to eat you my dear." Then they both laughed, because Grandmother had been joking.

Just about this time I arrived. When I walked through the door, Grandmother saw me and jumped out of bed in a fright and ran around the room screaming. Little Red Riding Hood, upon seeing this, thought that maybe Granny had really lost it after all, and hadn't been joking about eating her.

A Woodsman heard the commotion, and ran into the house. Seeing everyone running around, he naturally assumed the wolf was to blame, and cut my stomach open. Two little pigs came running out of my stomach, and I blacked out.

Little Red Riding Hood thought I would be hungry now that my lunch had run out of my stomach, so she filled up my stomach with rocks so I wouldn't be hungry.

I awakened to see the woodsman with his axe standing over me, so I decided to play dead. Fortunately they bought it.

When Little Red Riding Hood got home, she ran to her mother and said, "You'll never guess what happened. I was bringing food to Granny's and--."

"I thought you were going on a picnic. You were bringing food to Grandmother's house? Why how sweet," her mother interrupted.

"And I met this wolf after we went on a picnic--"

"Picnic?" Her mother asked.

"I mean after I met him he wanted to play a game, so he went one way and I went the other and I got there first, but Granny had turned into a wolf and I said, 'Grandmother, what a big mouth you have," and she said, 'The better to eat you my dear.' I thought she was kidding at first but then..."
And she told the rest of the story.

Well, you know how mothers are. The mother drew her own conclusion from the story, and told all the rest of the mothers. And that's how the story you know came to be.

The True Story of Little Red Riding Hood: ESL Listening Story Time