27 November, 2012

Mon-sheau And Those Russian Nazis

Every writer starts somewhere.  Even yours truly.  

While going through boxes in a recent move, I came across a story I wrote when I was nine.  The pages were taped together like a scroll -- why did I do that? -- but, sadly, the beginning and anything after are missing.  At the left you can see a pic of one of the pages, and what follows is their transcript.

I hope you enjoy.

… got into my car, I stepped on the gas and left.  When I got on the freeway, three Porches [sic] started following me.  I said, “Oh well, I guess I’ll have trouble with Mon-sheau after all.”  I started to go even faster toward the airport.  When I got there, my private plane was ready.  As I got into my plane, Mon-sheau put two henchmen into the cockpit.  They were the pilot and co-pilot.  Of course, I didn’t know that, but went on it anyways. 
            As soon as I was asleep, the Russian henchmen emptied the gas tank and took all the parachutes with them as they jumped out of the plane.  I woke up, looked out the open door, and saw the two parachutes get smaller and smaller.
            I looked at the controls, and saw that the plane was losing altitude!  Then I looked out the windshield and saw I was about to hit a tall cliff.  I looked around for something to jump out on, but as I looked in the closet, I hit the cliff!  I hurt my arm very badly.  It felt like it was broken.  I got out of the closet, stood up and got my things.  I got some water for my arm and then got out of the plane. I almost slipped on the slick mountain side.  I got out my ACME mountain climber and off I went.  I got into my climber and started down.  Oh!  I forgot to tell you that my ACME mountain climber is a type of car that you sit in. 
           As I was going down I saw Russian men and artillery planning to attack North America!  I said to myself, “I have to stop them!”  Then in Russian I heard, “Hey, what are you doing?”  I turned the mountain climber around and shot a Nazi.  I got out and changed from my clothes into his clothes.  “Luckily I learned Russian in Historical Studies at The University College of Southern America.”  I also got his gun and equipment.  I looked like a natural Nazi of Russia.
          I snuck down into the camp at night and got out my knife and cut a small hole in the main tent.  I saw them talking about the death of the man I killed.  I was a little afraid.  I walked back out the hole I cut and backed out fast!  I walked into the tent like the man, with a limp.  The Nazis said, “Oh, you made it!  We thought you were killed!  You’re one of our best fighters you know!”  “I am, oh?  Yes, of course I am!  Remember the time…”  “Save the war stories, Lt.,” he said and I said, “Sorry, sir.”  “We leave in the morning at dawn.”  “Yes sir.  I guess I’ll get some sleep.”
         But what they don’t know is that I didn’t go to bed.  Besides, I don’t even know where my bed is!  So I walked off to a tent so that it looked like I really was going to bed.  Then, all I did was circle the tent and then hid behind the tents [sic] shade.  When Mon-sheau went back into the tent, I got up from my hiding place and started for the tent.  As I snuck up to the tent, two more henchmen, different from the ones from the plane, captured me.  Then Mon-sheau came out from his tent and said, “Hello!  I thought you were Sgt. Michael Holland of The Secret Service!”  “Yeah, maybe I am!  What’s it matter to you?”  “Maybe nothing, but still just the same you are!  Take him to the cellar.  Maybe he won’t be so lucky now!  And also maybe I’ll feed you to the alligators!” Mon-sheau said.  “That wouldn’t be wise,” I said, “I bit my tongue once and tasted awful!”  “Get out of here!” Mon-sheau said.
         The henchmen took me to a deep dark cellar with barred windows under a regular looking tent.  Then they locked me up with chains against the wall.  As soon as they left, I got my chisel with my feet, and threw it up in the air.  I caught it in my teeth and started moving my head so it would rub away the metal chains.  About an hour later I finally cut the chains on both my left and right hand.  I snuck to the door very quietly and saw the keys were still in the door!  I said, “Good stuff!  Now I can get out of here tonight!”  I unlocked the door and had to fight my way out!  It was kind of hard because I’m still sore from my bad arm in the plane crash and after the fight it hurt even more than before!  
         When I got out I headed straight for Mon-sheau’s tent.  I went to the hole I cut but when I got to the hole I couldn’t find it!  It must have been sewn up.  So I finally found the spot because I saw the stitch going up and down.  I cut even a smaller hole.  I could barely even see it!  But with my ACME micro lens I saw right through the atom hole ...

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