The Mystery of Class 6T

Inspired by real life events, though it doesn't go over the condoms and the racist vandalism, as I didn't quite understand that at the time. I've no idea if Mr. Collins is real or not. Bill and Ted comes from an advertisement for the NES game of the film inside the only Spider-Man issue I'd read at the time - an issue of Web of Spider-Man I'd got from Oxfam in 2007/2008 for a pound, featuring this villain the Slasher.

Ian and Babara (sic, "Barbara") are lifted straight from An Unearthly Child, though this time as 2008 policemen (sic, "Police Officers" for political correctness) and not 1963 teachers at Coal Hill. Chief Baker's name derives from Tom Baker.

12/25-ish watching the news is an oddly specific, and most likely untrue, figure. Charlote (sic, Charlotte) and her mother must be mentally ill, screaming over a non-major event like that.

I'm glad I didn't go with the crazy initial plot.

The Mystery of Class 6T

Tuesday 19th February 2008

L.O: Use openers and connectives in my story.

It was a dark winter's night and two young men, Bill and Ted were driving in a black van, wearing black clothes to Taverham Junior School. and They were trying to break into class 6T and put swearwords on the whiteboards and tables, steal all the children's work and books onto a fire and burn them, cut all the wires of electrical equitment so they can't be used any more, and much more havoc. However, they were stopped by the caretaker, Mr. Collins.

"Hey, you two, get out of here or i'll call th 999!" said Mr. Collins. The two men got out a shotgun from their pockets. "What? An ambulance for you?!" They pulled the trigger. Mr. Collins fell to the ground, with a heartbeat of 0. His blood spread down the car park, and a police car stopped to investigate.

"Hmm, Babra, it looks like we've got a mystery on her hand," said one of two Policemen: Ian. He sniffed the blood. "Hasen't been here long. They must not be far away. C'mon!" "Y'know, i've only just got this job! I haven't done this for ten years or so!" said Babara. "Stop being rude or you'll get fired by Cheif Baker!" shouted Ian.

The next evening, 12 of the children from 6T were watching the news. "Mum, when's dinner ready?" shouted a girl from 6T called Charlote to her mum. "6.20!" s Her mum shouted back. Charlote turned on the T.V. "Our top story tonight: Their has been a murder at TJS! Also, all the student's work has been burnt! "We are thery very sad this has happend," said headteacher Mr. Picke..." Charolate turned of the TV and screamed. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Her mother ran into the living room. "What's all the noise about sweetheart?" she asked. "Mmmy scchoool haaas been bbbrooken inntoo!" Charlote awnswered, being very afraid. Her mother screamed too. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" They turned the T.V back. on. "...onds. "We are very sad also that our students can't come back for at LEAST a week."

One week later, the young men, Bill and Ted were in prison: For LIFE. "I hate you, you ********!" shouted Bill. "You're the one who got the idea, *****!"

Plot

Two young men - try to break into class 6T. Get stopped by security cameras. 6T very sad. Police arrest the men but they fail out. Break into 6T again. Get life sentence in prision. Get abducted by aliens. Gets shot by a ray-gun. His family is very sad. They start mudering the people who work at the school and the prision.

© 2008 Peter Webb

Santa Gets Copped

Another poem, though if features a fair amount of speech. A seasonal novelty, Year Seven English. Typos remain. It's pretty hilarious, actually. And no, at this timepoint, I hadn't seen 'Miracle on 34th Street', therefore I was not inspired by it, and therefore, ultimately, any similarities are all entirely coincidental. Guess it's a popular idea for a tale to tell.

Monday 8th December 2008

Christmas Santa gets Copped.

The clock strikes twelve,
The chimney gets blocked,
A man as fat as a truck squeezes down.

As the fat man is straining,
The lights turn on,
Mum and Dad, who are snacking on pies,
Hear a plop and a bang, and the fat man says,
"Are  those for me?"

There is a burgular in the house,
Hi 999, He's carrying a bag of toys,
Those are robbed from another house,
He says he's a saint, and is a hundred years old,
With a name of Santa Nicholas Claus.
 
The men in Jim Jams get in the car,
It rushes down to the house,
And a Saint called Santa
Gets copped.
 
"Put your hands on your head," said the cop,
"But don't this family want any toys?" questioned the fat man,
"A DS Lite for little Jim,
A pack of perfume for mama,
and razor blades for Papa
all made in the arctic snow?"
 
"You're under arrest for making toys illegially,"
"But every person on the planet gets a present from me,
Except for those little rascals".
The cops still aren't satisfied,
And starts a court case the very next day.
 
It was Christmas morning,
And little Jim woke up,
He looked in his stocking,
Nothing there,
He ran down stairs to under the tree,
Nothing there.
 
He ran to his parents screaming,
"Santa hasen't given us any presents,
We got no presents, Santa's been robbed!",
"It's alright deary, he's in court,
He I bet he was stealing our toys!"
"No, no, no! You've got it all wrong!
He was trying to give us gifts!"
 
His pa Mum and Dad believe this child,
They tell the jury he was trying to give them gifts,
And get all those fantastic gifts on boxing day.

© 2008 Peter Webb

The Empty House (illustrated)

Year 7 Literacy, just a way of expanding upon description. I don't think it's very good. Spelling errors remain, possibly for historical reference. It's not that I'm lazy.

Wednesday 18th March 2009, onwards.

The Empty House

Outside the house there was a garden. There were hundreds of slugs. Slipping was inventiable inevenitable. The overgrown weeds stung like hell. The grass was so tall that it was near impossible to find your way around. The only help was nettles. The stinging made us jump because it hurt so much, and so we got a brief glance at the house number: No. 10.

As we rang the bell, and did a very sounding like a shriek, we found out nobody was in. And there wasn't any vechiles anywhere, and they surely couldn't walk anywhere. And it wasn't the weather fort going out. Luckily, I had some good key hacking skills, but rust was flying everywhere. Inside, I glanced at the damp walls. The floor boards creaked as I walked. The paint had washed away. The wallpaper had nearly peeled of completely. I decided to walk upstairs.
 
We walked up the never-ending stairs. We glanced at some sepia pictures of a family who have been deceased for years. There was a little boy lolipop wearing a blazer, a white shirt and grey trousers, a small girl wearing a straw hat and dress, a father in their late 50s wearing a suit and a mother wearing a dress. The steps creaked every time we moved. The wallpaper was peeling off. After many minutes of climbing, we arrived up stairs.

We entered a bedroom. I looked at myself in a cracked mirror. There was a cup of tea on a seat, freezing cold. Cobwebs were hanging from the ceiling. I then smelt a disgusting, putrid aroma. I thought someone had guffed until I saw the bed sheets, covered in urine. I decided to leave the bedroom and climb up to the attic.

When I entered, I nearly fell through a hole in the attics. Owls and bats flew out of cracked windows. I spotted an old, wooden, golden chest. I tried to unlock it, but, then, suddenly, the floor collapsed and I fell through.

My friend called 999 and I was rushed to hospital. I hoped I was alright.

© 2009 Peter Webb