Monday was a bad, bad day. I got supplementary homework because of my misbehavior. It wasn’t that I misbehaved so badly. I don’t think it’s so bad to let off a stink bomb in the washroom. Josh does that every time he goes in there, after all, only he doesn’t even need a stink bomb. Mr. Thomas said it was aggreggrious behavior whatever that is. He spent a long time thinking up what my supplementary homework would be. He said because I was a repeat offender it should be really bad. Then he told me that I should Google Ireland and make up sentences for every single one of the counties there. I said what’s a county and he said it’s like a province only smaller and I would find out when I Googled it.
Now, I’m okay at Googling but you have to understand that Social is one of my bad subjects. Most subjects are my bad subjects but Social is the worst. I’m thinking, how can I get out of this supplementary homework at the same time that I’m trying to think what Ireland is. Then I remember it’s an island somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic. And I think it’s really small because Mr. Thomas told us you could drop it into Lake Ontario and it would never be seen again even if it was a hundred times bigger or something like that. I thought, if it’s so small it can’t have that many of those mini provinces. I got the shock of my life when I Googled it. 32 counties it has. 32 sentences I have to write. Talk about overkill. They must be out of their gourds over there. 32 mini provinces. Well, I thought there’s no way I’m spending time on 32 separate sentences. The best I can do is lump them all in a story. So I printed off the whole list and got down to it. This is how it goes.
Once upon a time – you have to start stories with that, everybody knows – once upon a time there was a guy called Tyrone. He had two friends called Derry and Kerry. They were twins. They were very bloodthirsty and one day they Kil-dare-d Tyrone to Kil-kenny. Now Kenny was a really bad hombre so this was a really serious Kil-dare. Tyrone’s mother kept him on a tight Laois and she wouldn’t let him take up the Kil-dare to go Kil-kenny.
“Ar-magh, I have to go or they’ll think I’m chicken,” he said.
The next day, Tyrone escaped from his tight Laois and went to Derry and Kerry’s house. They lived in a caravan with their Ant-Rim. Ant-rim called the caravan a Cavan because she had a cleft palate. She wished them luck for their journey and gave them some sandwiches made from Meath and Mayo. They were not Offaly good but at least they would keep their strength up when they went to Kil-kenny.
It was a long journey. Along the way they told silly jokes and made up Limericks and they sang bits of It’s a Long way to Tipperary. They went up hill and Down dale. They splashed through the Long-ford and the Wex-ford and the Water-ford and scrambled over the Ros-common. By the time they got to the place where they could Kil-kenny, they were wet and muddy. Several times Tyrone thought of Dublin back but he didn’t want to lose face and he wanted to eat the sandwiches, even if they weren’t Offaly good.
When they got to the place, Kenny wasn’t there so they couldn’t kill him. Clare, his sister was instead.
Clare talked with a lisp. Derry decided to have a Sli-go at her because he was a bad, bad boy. “If all the tires on your car are flat do you have a Carlow?” he said.
Clare didn’t answer but she helped herself to a sandwich. “Blech,” she said spitting it out, “Thath’s the Westmeath sandwich I’ve ever tathted.”
Then Kerry decided to have a Sli-go at her too just to prove he was bad as well. “Here’s another one,” he said. “If your candle goes out is your Wick-low?”
Clare rolled her eyes and covered her ears. “You talk too Louth,” she said. “Why don’t you put a Cork in it. Anyway, why did you come here to Kil-kenny?”
“It was a Kil-dare,” said Tyrone.
“Well that’s the thtupidetht thing I’ve ever heard, or my name’th not Clare Monaghan. Donegal of you to come here and think you can Kil-kenny. He’s a bad hombre. If you don’t scram before he getth back he’ll give you a Lei-trim and then you’ll be crying Fer-man-agh and that’th a fact.”
Just then they heard roaring and shouting and the ground started to shake.
“Quick, that’th Kenny,” hissed Clare.
Derry looked at Kerry and Kerry looked at Tyrone. They ran the whole way back along the Gal-way and they never did Kil-kenny.
The End.
Mr. Thomas made me read my story out loud in class today. This afternoon I went to see the Principal. He said it was a bad, bad story and I’m to have more supplementary punishment for my misbehavior. A week-long suspension from school to look forward to tomorrow. Can’t be all bad!
Clo Carey Feb/20
#SouthShoreScribes: Three-word prompt – supplementary, leash and misbehavior blog challenge #SouthShoreScribesNS @www.emilybowers.ca/ https://wordsbywhittall.blogspot.com/ @passionate_perspective @https://www.facebook.com/groups/1470587219691626 #amwriting #writingprompt #OneWord
#write28days Feb3
Teetering on the Edge 