Continue this story by adding exactly one word at a time. We might have multiple people responding at the same time and this might start to not make sense, but that's fine.
Only posts with one word count towards the story!
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High school, lunchtime. You sit alone, but that's how you prefer it. You have "work" to do. After finishing your lunch, you get up to dump your tray and put it with the rest. Then you return to your solitary seat. And then, to your ire, you see it...
Someone has drawn dicks all over your lesson planner. This isn't just some notebook you can buy at a dollar store, your lesson planner is something you need to turn in to each of your teachers any time you hand in an assignment, so they can confirm credit for it. Now you'll have to pay money to replace it, and it's a whole bullshit process.
You know who did it. You didn't see them do it, but you know it has to be the usual goon squad who makes fun of you in their not-so-private conversations. They've been gawking at you all period. But they've gone as far as vandalizing your school supplies. A sense of hopelessness overcomes you. You feel as if no one is coming to save you. You'll have to stand up for yourself. As if securing it for proof, you pick up your lesson planner and march over to the table where your gossipy tormentors congregate.
You give each of them a once-over, and you say the following:
Only posts with one word count towards the story!
******************************
High school, lunchtime. You sit alone, but that's how you prefer it. You have "work" to do. After finishing your lunch, you get up to dump your tray and put it with the rest. Then you return to your solitary seat. And then, to your ire, you see it...
Someone has drawn dicks all over your lesson planner. This isn't just some notebook you can buy at a dollar store, your lesson planner is something you need to turn in to each of your teachers any time you hand in an assignment, so they can confirm credit for it. Now you'll have to pay money to replace it, and it's a whole bullshit process.
You know who did it. You didn't see them do it, but you know it has to be the usual goon squad who makes fun of you in their not-so-private conversations. They've been gawking at you all period. But they've gone as far as vandalizing your school supplies. A sense of hopelessness overcomes you. You feel as if no one is coming to save you. You'll have to stand up for yourself. As if securing it for proof, you pick up your lesson planner and march over to the table where your gossipy tormentors congregate.
You give each of them a once-over, and you say the following:
