01-22-2007, 08:07 PM
Yeah, so I was listening to David Bowie earlier this summer. As he sung about leaving Earth behind, I was suddenly inspired to write a story.

It was getting awfully hot as Zak walked down into the large abyss. There was no way to get out once he arrived down there, but that didn't matter. If he didn't get down there, he was going to get a very bad grade on his diversity project. His teacher wouldn't be very receptive to his arguments that it was too difficult of an assignment to carry out.
It was quite difficult, no doubt about that. The gigantic astronaut suit weighed him down considerably. For a few brief moments, he had wondered why he had to wear it. It was heavy, uncomfortable, and it it made it very hot. He was sweating all over the place. At the base of the suit, where his feet were, there was a small pool of sweat in each foot. Or maybe he pissed himself. He couldn't remember.
Remembering things wasn't a strong point of Zak's. Once his pet frog had escaped, then the frog told him where it was through telepathy in 2nd period math class the next day. The fact that the diversity project was waiting for the next day ruined his chances of thinking about anything else, even the frog. The journey down here was more painful for him than the loss of Jo-Jones-Jo. (Pronounced: JoeJonesJoe [All one word]).
JoeJonesJoe had to be down here somewhere. It wasn't anywhere else, he was sure of it. Feelings never lied to anyone, not even Zak.
Finally, he reached the bottom of the abyss, and saw Penguin Jezebel sitting at her golden throne. A gigantic gold scepter was in her hand, it was pointed at all of the other penguins who were walking around in a circle, around the throne. Somehow, it was pointed at all of them at once. Zak wasn't quite sure how, but it was.
The scepter was all that he could focus on after he arrived in the pit. Why did it have to be so hot? Why couldn't it be hot? Why was it cold? Hot? Cold? Lukewarm? Icy? (Why is it so cold hot cold hot cold hot in here Mr. Lampoon?) The hot descended into his body, as the cold permeated at his skin, HOT! Good golly! It's freezing in here!
Transcending into another reality...
One where x is y, and y is x. A is B, bnd B is A. Ybkaor bnd the Rbngers were b abnd. A is B! No more of thbt for xou Cbptbin Jones.....................

It's awfully tired in here guys....

16 Hours Later...

Detective John Miller, and detective Frank Peretti had been on the LAPD homicide force for quite some time. They had seen every different kind of murder scene one could hope to see.
At least, that's what they thought until today.
“What do you think happened?” Frank asked. The swimming pool was large; there wasn't much space in it though.
The millions of cardboard penguins took care of that. They were all tied to the bottom of the swimming pool by string. Water filled in the cracks between them. The penguins were placed in the pool so they were in nearly every possible spot; water filled in the minuscule cracks.
In the center of the pool was a boy named Zak in an astronaut suit. He was dead. His suit, (with him inside of it), was anchored to the bottom of the swimming pool by a few chains.
“Well, now we know what happened to that astronaut suit stolen from Cape Canaveral last week,” John thought out loud.
“I was beginning to wonder when that was going to turn up.”
“Me too.”
“And it did turn up, funny how that works out.”
“Most humorous.”
“That kid isn't funny though,” Frank said.
“He's dead.”
“Lunch?” Frank asked.
“I'll drive,” John replied.
As they drove towards the restaurant, a brief dialogue ensued.
“Why do you think that kid did that?” John asked.
“He loved big brother,” Frank replied. “He really loved big brother.”