This is a script for the original comedy event in speech team. I thought it would be a good change from my usual grim stories.

Spelling Bee

 

Announcer: Hello everybody, and welcome to the 37th annual spelling bee. It's sure to be an interesting match this year. Returning from last year, reigning supreme, we have contestant Viktor von Ivanovski. As you may remember it was a perilous fight for the title of spelling bee champ last year as they ran out of English words and had to cut into the elusively challenging Martian words. But, after a twenty seven hour marathon Viktor finally came out on top. He is the favorite to win this year, but there is some talk for incoming Rookie- um, I'm sorry there must be a typo, it just says Lil' Timmy. What? Oh, that's his legal name. Ok, well, Lil' Timmy, though he is only a fourth grader, was allowed into the sixth grade spelling bee for his extreme skill.  Oh, the spelling bee is starting. First up is contestant number one, Suzy Finklestein.

Word bearer: Contestant number one, your word is: bazaar.

Suzy: Oh, that's easy. I'm not even going to ask for the definition. Honestly, you mock my intelligence asking me such a simplistic word. Bizarre: B- I- Z- A- R- R- E. Bizarre.

Word Bearer: Oh, Suzy, I'm sorry that is incorrect. You spelled bizarre as in weird or strange. I was asking for bazaar, as in a middle eastern marketplace.

Suzy: What?! That is preposterous! I demand a new word. You can't do this to me! I am the best speller here!

Word Bearer: Security!

Suzy: I was born to be a star! A Star! You'll see! You'll all see! [Suzy is dragged off stage]

Announcer: Well, what an exciting beginning to tonight's event. The next contestant is contestant number two, the returning champ, Viktor von Ivanovski.

 

Word Bearer: Contestant number two, your word is: Harlequin.

Viktor: Ah yes, Harlequin, a buffoon, a dim- wit, just like all of you capitalist Americans. Very well, I shall spell your word. Harlequin: H- A- R- L- E- Q- U- I- N, Harlequin.

Word Bearer: Yes, that is correct.

Viktor:, Of, course it is correct, I spelled it.

Announcer: Well, Viktor is off to a good start. Now for our next contestant- ahem- Lil' Timmy.

Word Bearer: Your word is: crustaceology.

Lil' Timmy:  [ looks at the ceiling a moment as if figuring something out]

Crustaceology: (snapping as he says every letter) C- R- U- S- T- A- C- E- O- L- O- G.....-Y! Crustaceology!

Word Bearer: Yes, that is correct.

Announcer: A correct word from Lil' Timmy. Now, onto Jeffrey Weiblergh

Word Bearer: Jeffrey, your word is: unanswerable

Jeffrey: What? well then why give it to me if it's impossible to answer? What kind of cruel sick joke is this!?

Word bearer: No, no Jeffrey the word itself which you are to spell is unanswerable.

Jeffrey: What? oh. Well now you just lowered my confidence.

Word Bearer: I am sorry Jeffrey, but the word remains.

Jeffrey: Alright. Can you use it in a sentence?

Word Bearer: The extremely difficult word in the spelling bee, many considered to be unanswerable.

Jeffrey: What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying something? I might as well give up now, is that what you're saying? Fine, I forfeit, you happy? [Jeffrey runs crying offstage]

Announcer: Well, this has been quite an interesting match as of yet. We'll be right back after a quick word from our sponsors.

Commercial: Has this ever happened to you?

            Boy: I have a really fancy word that I want to use in my essay which would make me sound really smart- like, but I don't know how to spell it?

 

Well, if it has, then you need autocorrect! Because who really needs to know how to spell?

Announcer: And we're back! They have whittled away at the contestants leaving only three left: Lil' Timmy, Viktor von Ivanovski, and Stephen Spellberg. Once again, for the second year in a row, they have run out of English words and have moved on to the Terrifyingly difficult Martian words. These words have absolutely no discernible pattern to them, and some even use punctuation and numbers in the middle of them. This is bound to be very exciting.

Viktor: I don't know what you are all still doing here, but I can guarantee you, you will lose. (Evil Chuckle) Oh, yes I shall make sure of that, even if I have to break every bone in their bodies, and rip out their tongues, I will win!

Stephen: Hey, man, we can hear you, we're right here.

Viktor: Yes you are, Stephen and it is burning my eyes looking at you, now disperse, before I die from your ugly.

Stephen: Hey, man, you're kind of mean. Can't we all just be friends?

Viktor: No! I must win this spelling bee so that I can assert my dominance on America and install a communist government.

Lil' Timmy: Viktor

Viktor: What is it, Lil' Timmy!?

Lil' Timmy:  You're twelve

Viktor: Your Point?

Lil' Timmy: ... never mind

Stephen:  Hey, it looks like I'm up.

Viktor: Good luck Stephen.

Stephen: Gee, thanks! [walks away]

Viktor: You'll need it. [takes a breath from Stephen's inhaler]

Word Bearer: Your word is : [makes some guttural noise]

Stephen: Oh! I know this one. It's (gasp)... It's (gasp). [Stephen searches for his inhaler] Hey, (gasp) where's my (gasp) inhaler! [Stephen passes out]

Announcer: Oh my, it looks like we have a speller down. We will be right back.

Viktor: [doubled over, laughing maniacally]

Lil' Timmy: Hey, man you did that. You stole Stephen's inhaler so that he would have to forfeit. You are just a big meanie.

Viktor: Oh, yeah, what if I did? What are you going to do about it?

Lil' Timmy: The only thing I can do: Spell.

Viktor: Ha Ha Ha! I shall vanquish you just like everyone else. Martian words are my specialty.

Lil' Timmy:  Oh please. I'm one- fourth Martian.

Announcer: Alright, we are back. Unfortunately Stephen is disqualified, however, the doctors say he will be alright. Now, it is a duel between Lil' Timmy, and Viktor von Ivanovski. Let's watch.

Word Bearer: Lil' Timmy, your word is (guttural noise)

Lil' Timmy: (random assortment of letters)

Word Bearer: That is correct. Viktor, your word is (guttural noise)

Viktor: (random assortment of letters)

Word Bearer: That is correct. Lil' Timmy, your word is (guttural noise)

Lil' Timmy: (random assortment of letters)

Word Bearer: That is correct. Viktor, your word is (guttural noise)

Viktor: (random assortment of letters)

Announcer: Well it looks like it's going to be a long harsh  battle. We'll be right back after this message.

Commercial:  Has this ever happened to you?

            Boy: Aw, man autocorrect just put in a word for this text message that makes me sound real dumb!

            Other boy: Hey, at least you didn't have to check for your spelling! Yay!

If so, then you need autocorrect. Autocorrect: close enough.

 

Announcer: And we are back! Amazing. The two boys are still at it, perfectly spelling every word. Now all that is left for them to spell is the Martian word, used to describe all words, in one giant word. If they both spell this word correctly then there will be no choice but to declare it a tie.

Word Bearer: Alright, this is the final word. It is for all the marbles. (make an obnoxiously long strand of random noises)

Word Bearer: Viktor.

Viktor: S-

Word bearer: Oh, I am terribly sorry, that is incorrect. Lil' Timmy, your turn

Lil' Timmy: (obnoxiously long strand of random letters, punctuation, and numbers)

Word Bearer: I lost track after the four hundred twenty second letter, so I'm afraid you will have to spell it again... Nah! I'm just Kidding! That was correct. Lil' Timmy, you are the new spelling bee champion.

Lil' Timmy: Ha Ha! Take that Viktor! In your face. [dances a little bit]

 

The End

I have started playing volleyball in school. I think this is important to chronicle because, as a writer, it is good to know a wide variety of people and know what makes them tick. I am in volleyball, and the speech team, and the kind of people in volleyball are vastly different from those in speech. It is good for a writer to know these different kinds of people so that they can write about a wide variety of people and actually make it believeable. 

 

 

This is a story which I wrote. Please enjoy.

 

 

The Last Dinosaur

 

He was surrounded. There was no getting out of this one alive. Rex, the Tyrannosaurus was going to kill him. Dennis the Triceratops did not know why Rex resented him with such a passion. Dennis decided that Rex was just one of those people who felt better when others felt worse. It probably was from a low amount of self esteem. Oh well. At least when Dennis was gone, Rex would not be any better off. Dennis got on his knees, closed his eyes, and prepared to take whatever punishment he was about to sustain. He waited for a few minutes, but did not feel anything. That was odd. He should be dead right now. Then there was a thundering roar which shook the earth.

Dennis opened his eyes and what he saw chilled him to his very core.

In the sky were thousands upon thousands of suns plummeting to the Earth. It was a beautiful sight in all actuality. Dennis found himself paralyzed, staring at the incredible sight. He was quickly snapped out of his trance when about a hundred feet away, an explosive ball of fire erupted, sending flaming branches flying in every direction.

Dennis ran. He was not sure where precisely, because enormous balls of fire were falling everywhere, and consuming everything in their path, but those were just his instincts. A fireball exploded ten feet away, throwing him to the side. He landed hard and hit his head on a rock, knocking him out.

Dennis awoke. When he opened his eyes, the brightness stung. It was too overpowering, so he shut his eyes again. He was sore all over, except for his leg. He could not feel his leg. He opened his eyes again, and refused to close them until he got used to the light. He found that it actually was not bright at all. The sky was a dark grey, only allowing a few renegade rays of sun to peek through. He surveyed his surroundings, and what he found puzzled him. There was nothing but large mounds of dark grey ash, and a few charred, blackened logs for as far as the eye could see. Dennis was not quite sure what to make of this until he remembered how he had gotten there. That is when it hit him. Everything, and everyone was gone.

He began to panic and he tried to stand up but found that something was pinning him down. A blackened log was splayed across his numb leg. His leg was bloodied, limp, and mangled into an unnatural position. Dennis tried to lift the log at least enough so that he could slide his leg out. He pushed with all of his might, but alas, it was not enough. He had never been a particularly physically fit dinosaur, and his coma had sapped his strength.

Trapped under the log, Dennis was not sure what he was going to do. He had to get out somehow.

He looked down at his leg, and it rather repulsed him. It was blackened and bloodied, and contorted in such a way that made Dennis woozy if he really thought about it for a moment. Even if he got it out from under the log, it would not do him any good. It would be dead weight that he would be dragging along.

That is when a thought crossed his mind that any other time would be absolutely ridiculous. But, this was the end of the world, he decided, and desperate times call for desperate measures. Dennis was going to have to sever his own leg.

Then the question of how drifted his mind, and though a solution did cross his mind, this one was absolutely ridiculous, even for the end of the world. No, he simply was not going to do it. He was not going to chew through his own leg. He would sooner starve than do that.

So he sat. He sat and waited for hunger to take him, and wither him away to nothing but a sack of bones. He waited for three days, each day getting a little bit hungrier, and letting his mind slip a little more. Then on the fourth day, in his hunger driven delirium, he did the unthinkable, and chewed through his own leg. And he did not just cut through the flesh, he swallowed it for food. It took him several hours, but he finally got to the point where one good wrench of his body pulled him from his leg. His insanity made so that he hardly felt it.

Dennis tried to stand up, but could not stay upright, due to a combination of weakness, and the lack of a leg. It took several more tries to stay up, but once he did, he went on his way. First though, he went and retrieved his leg from under the tree; he would need food for the journey.

His destination was the fiery mountain. It was a volcano which had a large network of caves, where many dinosaurs lived around the area. Dennis thought it likely that some fellow dinosaurs would have taken shelter here during the firestorm. It was only a few miles to the cave entrance, but Dennis was still weak, and the trip was slow going. He tripped over charred logs, and rocks along the way, which were hidden by the dark gray ash that now covered everything.

He made his way to the mountain, and found the cave entrance, under different circumstances, this area would be bustling with the comings, and goings of dinosaurs of all types and varieties. It was eerie for Dennis to see it as silent and dead as it was.

Dennis was also disappointed to find the spring that so many had used in the years before, was now replaced by more of the all- consuming ash.

Dennis, stepped into the large cave entrance, and made his way up to the top of the volcano, seeing blackened skeletons as he went. When he made it to the top, what he saw sapped all the strength from his body, stealing his will to live. He saw nothing.

He hoped to find something alive, someone with whom he could share his grief and pain. Instead, all he found was more bodies, and a cliff leading to a drop that ended in a pool of molten lava.

Dennis dropped to his three remaining knees, and wept. He thought that being spared the fiery death was a miracle, a gift from the universe. Instead, it turned out to be a curse, a punishment. Dennis was the last of his kind, and what is the point of being the last of a kind if there is no one to share it with.

The last of the dinosaurs, in his insane, lonely state, jumped off the cliff into the fiery pit below.

That was how the last of the dinosaurs met his ultimate demise; spared one fiery death, to be replaced by another.

TThis is one of my previous stories. It is actually the story I wrote that more or less gave me inspiration for one of the stories on which I halted production for a later time.

The Little Vampire

            Little Vincent was a peculiar kid. He was a bit of a loner, and liked to be by himself. He always looked sickly pale, but he never showed any signs of anything being the matter. He would also disappear at the strangest times for hours, only to be found again somewhere like his room, or out in the garden. When asked where he had gone he would usually stay silent, but even when he did answer he would simply say that he didn't know, or that he had flown away. Whenever he would answer with such a remark, he would get a spanking for "running off his smart mouth." Thus, he would usually just remain silent.

             One day little Vincent was alone in the forest, playing with a cool stick that he found lying on the ground, when all of a sudden, Billy, the bully of the town, came wobbling by with his many chins, and eating a piece of cake he had stolen from a small child. He saw how much fun Vincent was having with the stick, and he was immediately  filled with envy. "Hey you, Ugly" yelled Billy very menacingly, "gimme that stick, and anything else you got." Vincent was very mad. He was not going to let this giant slab of blubber order him around. He muttered something incomprehensible at Billy under his breath. "What was that, Ugly?" Billy asked, jabbing his pudgy finger at Vincent, "I couldn't hear you because I was too busy shielding my eyes from your ugly face!"  Billy grabbed at Vincent, but Vincent swatted his hand away with surprising force. Billy went in to punch Vincent, but Vincent was way ahead of him. He dodged the blow, and lunged toward Billy, at which point Vincent blacked out. He woke up in his room, with his clothes in tatters.

             The next day, someone found Billy's body in the woods. The autopsy was very strange, very strange indeed. The only marks found on the boy's body were two small punctures, and the boy's body had been completely drained of blood. The sheriff ruled that it was most likely a snake that had bitten him

            . The funeral was held a week later, and everyone in the small town was invited. Vincent didn't cry, or even feel bad that the child was dead. Billy was a jerk. All of the other kids of the village seemed to agree, for while the service was being held, they were off in the background, playing with a caterpillar that one of them had found. Vincent was not invited to see the caterpillar, of course, for he was different, and little boys and girls did not look kindly at different. Vincent thought nothing of it, for he had never been asked to play in the games. It was a way of life for him, to watch from the sidelines as others were joyous. After the funeral, Vincent thought about the events of the past few days. He did not come to much, except that Billy had gotten what was coming to him.

             A year went by, and there were no deaths in the village. Vincent had grown considerably, and he lost his two canines, awaiting his new adult ones. The next morning, he felt for the gaps in his mouth and found that the teeth were there. This was very exciting for him. In the process of running his tongue along his new set of pearly white chompers, he pricked his tongue. Vincent waited patiently for the taste of blood, but it never came.

             "Well now that is strange!" he thought.

             The cut was rather deep, and should have been squirting out gallons of blood. Having the attention span of the seven year old he was, however, he quickly dismissed the thought and headed off to his daily affairs.

            He wandered the woods, pretending to be a fearless adventurer, slaying evil monsters, rescuing damsels in distress, and most importantly, having loads of friends.

            Deeply ensconced in his imaginative process, he almost failed to notice the deer he had come across. He quickly ducked down, and was as quiet as he could be. He spied on the creature, studied it. It soon occurred to him that he desperately wanted to eat the thing. The realization shocked him for this was a most ungentlemanly thing to do. But nonetheless,  he couldn't avoid the fact that he had an overwhelming urge to pounce on the thing, and sink his teeth into its' hindquarters, and not let go, until every drop of blood had been drained.

             He contemplated whether he should commit this horrific deed or not. But the craving for blood and flesh swelled so considerably, that before he knew it, he was chasing after the thing. And almost as soon as he had pursued it, he was on top of it, gripping it with his pale, forceful claws. This new founded speed startled the young boy so much that he almost lost his grip and lost the deer. But he didn't lose his grip. At that moment the deer's fate was sealed.  The little vampire plunged his teeth into the deer's neck and drained every drop of blood and life from it. He drank and drank until finally the blood supply had run out and there was only a large slab of dry venison left.

             Vincent didn't want meat, he wanted blood. He went deep off into the forest, in the pursuit off this delicious red liquid. He could not find another dear so he came back home very late, disappointed and hungry.

             His orphan matron scolded him for being so late. He was sent to his room without dinner (which Vincent was actually rather pleased about, because at the end of the day, Vincent had come to the realization that all he really wanted was blood). He was given a heavy spanking, and had to sleep on the cold floor for the night. He could not get to sleep, and he didn't think it was from the lack of comfort. It was from all that had happened that day. He had discovered that he was nothing but a blood thirsty animal. Little Vincent tried to cry, but nothing came out, for now that he had his grown up fangs, he was a full- fledged vampire. Because of that, he had lost all fluids from his body. He was only a shell now.

            Vincent was not happy about this. He thought that this was to blame for all of his troubles. This was why the boys and girls didn't like him. This is why he got so many spankings from the orphan matron.

            The orphan matron.

             How dare she be such a witch to poor little Vincent? She thought he was nothing but a little brat. But Vincent knew he was so much more. Did he not kill both a cloud of a boy, and a deer with his bare hands, when he was but a boy? He had found his true power that day. He became very angry at the orphan matron.

            With one powerful kick, the door to his room flew off of its' hinges. The orphan matron noticed this and came running to the source of the ruckus. Her face contorted with rage, and she was about to release a torrent of nasty language, but Vincent was immediately on her. He plunged his daggers of teeth into her neck, and feasted on her blood.

             Once his belly was satisfied, he went into the rooms of all the other orphans, and bit them. He did not kill them however. He injected his plague into their bloodstream, in order to make them just like him. He did not do this to make friends, he did this to show them how he felt, when all of them ignored him, when he was different. Well now they would all be different. This would make them sad, which in turn would make Vincent very, very happy. It was time for little Vincent to be in power now. He was done being pushed around.

             He left the building and went out to the courtyard where he looked up at the sky. He yearned to be with the stars, to be immortal, and free. He willed his body to transform into a bat, for his soul to be free from his miserable human prison. It was time to move onto other villages. This one was finished, for when the children woke up, they would have as much of a thirst for blood as Vincent, and they would feast upon the nearest source of blood they could find which would be the neighbors. He flew around the countryside, feasting on a villager or two, and planting seeds in each of the towns.

             He was finally happy, or at least he thought he was. He thought that revenge on all those who were mean to him was what he wanted, but it was not. What he really wanted was to be loved, to have someone that he could call a friend. But the chances of that were gone. He killed any hope of finding the warmth of love as soon as he killed the orphans, and the matron and Billy. Now he was cursed to live an eternity with this burden of lovelessness, or be staked in his cold shell of a heart.

Definition of a Short Story

Length:

It appears that there really is no specific length for a short story. Some say it is from 1,000 to 9,000 words, some say it is 1,000 to 20,000 words. One source says 5- 20 pages. However, the most widely used definition is that it is meant to be read in a single sitting.

Structure:

Short stories are set up like most stories, meaning it has an exposition (the part of the story where setting and characters are usually introduced and described), rising action (conflict building up to the most suspenseful part), climax (the most suspenseful part, and the part of most interest), and resolution (the end, where the conflict is resolved). However, because short story is not specifically defined, this structure can differ . Many short stories begin en medias res or "in the middle of things" so that the exposition blends with other parts of the story.

Limited Scope:
A common characteristic in all short stories is that it has limited scope. This means that there are not very many characters included, mostly just focusing on one or two characters. It also means that the setting is usually rather compact, taking place in a small area, and taking place over a shorter amount of time.