Worst Opening Sentence Winners

We had a contest to see who could write the worst opening sentence for a story. There were three categories: Mystery, Adventure, and Romance. The winners are:

Mystery: As the man walked down the long street on the dark scary night that so happened to be Halloween but he didn't care because he wanted to take a walk tonight and so he was walking through the crosswalk and saw a shiny penny and bent over to pick it up but when he bent over a little kid dressed up as Michael Jackson shot the man with a gun that he had just stolen and ran away to go trick or treating.
---Brianna

Adventure: I jumped out of my bed madly singing in a squeaking, high-pitched and echoing sound that seemed not to come from my throat so I just coughed it off and began to sing again "celebrate good times come on" for tomorrow I will be in the Himalayas just like the Yeti in which I shall scare my stupid idiotic five year old monstrosity of a brother named Jonathan Jacob Jones Reamer and if I do, he will tell my mom until she grounds me because she always does what Johnny said to do, just like a master puppeteer controls the puppet into doing his bidding doesn't that sound like something all little brothers do, annoy the heck out of you until one person gives up right so in this way I wish I could snap him like a twig and my mom lets me get away with it too because that is something my brother does on a regular basis but all of this WILL change once I am in the Himalayas, ahh I can just see it now "You better not eat dinner or the Yeti will smell the delicious food in your belly!"
---Jenny

Romance: The very talkative woman and her very shy boyfriend were sitting in the park one day eating muffins under a pretty tree with flowers that were pink and she suddenly burst out, "Do you love me anymore? Because I don't think you love me and if this is going to work then you have to love me but I can't force you to love me even though I love you but you might not love me so that would be a problem but I don't want any problems so if you can love me than it would make things easier and problem-free with lots of love but there can't be love if you don't love me and I don't love you even though I do love you but you might not love me so do you love me?" and so he put down his muffin and drank some Vault and the birds chirped and the sun shined and the children laughed and he said, "ya, I love you."
---Kianna

Dream Come True

"Let’s go Red Sox!” [Clap clap, clap clap clap]

“Let’s go Yankees!” [Clap clap, clap clap clap]

The roar of the crowd is music to my ears. Sitting in my chair, which is probably filthy from the previous games that were held in the stadium [can you imagine all the spilt drinks, food, and the sweat?], I think to myself, how lucky I am. I, being only thirteen and having one of my dreams come true. This is the final game of the series and I’m happy all over. Me being here is hard to grasp, unbelievable, just amazing.

As the crowd jeers back and forth, I wait in anticipation for the game to start. I can just imagine seeing the Red Sox come out and run onto the field. I am anxious to see Manny Ramirez, David Ortiz, and Jason Varitek out there today. They are my favorite players!

The cheers for each representing team soon were interrupted by a loud voice from the overhead speaker.

“Please rise for Cindy Diaz in singing God Bless America.”

As I rise from my seat standing tall and proud, in the middle of the field I see a tall blonde women wearing a flowing blue dress with a microphone in hand. I have never seen this woman before. Apparently, she would be singing God Bless America. Is she’s any good?

As she starts to sing, I start to drift. Her voice right off the bat is magnificent. She finishes, takes a bow and everyone is clapping so loud, you hear the praise from outside of the stadium. What a great way to start the game.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for some baseball,” the man on the speaker announces.

“Introducing, the New York Yankees!”

There are many cheers and jeers. I myself am booing the Yankees. I hate the Yankees. As they introduce Johnny Damon and Derek Jeter I jeer even louder. I hate those guys. It you’re a Red Sox fan, you are forced to hate the Yankees. It’s like a law.

“Introducing, the Boston Red Sox!”

Again, cheers and jeers except this time, I scream my head off. I am filled with excitement when Ramirez, Ortiz, and Varitek came out. I’m tickled pink when they announce that Clay Buchholz is the pitcher. I, at this moment, am ecstatic. Clay is an awesome pitcher. He once pitched a no hitter in Fenway!

The Yankees are first to bat. Up first is Derek Jeter. Strike one. Strike two. Strike three.

“Woo!” All Red Sox fans scream in celebration. To strike out Jeter is something to brag about.

Next to bat is Johnny Damon. I am hoping that Clay would strike this guy out. Damon is a traitor. He originally played for the Red Sox, but chose to leave and head to the Yankees. Who does that? The same thing that happens to Jeter happens to Damon. STRIKE OUT! I start to laugh aloud. I find it amusing how the two best guys on the Yankees are now out. Clay finishes the top of the inning with no problem. I look up at the scoreboard and it reads 0 to 0.

The Red Sox step up to bat. Mike Lowell steps up.

“Bam!” Lowell hits the ball and runs to first base.

“Woo!” Cheers throughout the stadium. I scream so loud, I bet my mom who was sitting next to me went deaf.

Ramirez heads up to bat. He swings and connects! The ball is close to being a homerun, but misses by a foot. The hit garners a double. Nothing to worry about though, because Ortiz is next to bat. This designated hitter has had over 260 homeruns. I won’t be surprised if his record goes up by one this time up to bat.

Pitcher throws first pitch. Ortiz hits the ball, but fouls it off. Second pitch, another foul. The third pitch, HOMERUN!

“Yeah!” Everyone jumps up and screams. I dance and jump. I’m filled with excitement! I start screaming.

“Did you see that beautiful hit?” my mom asks.

“It is awesome, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

As I peer up at the scoreboard, a smile forms on my face. The scoreboard read 3-0. This is an amazing start for the Red Sox.

After the beautiful homerun, disappointment emerges. The Yankees pitcher strikes out the three following batters. At this point I look at my mom’s watch. It shows 1:00. My stomach growls.

“Mom, can we get some food?”

“Don’t you want to see the game?” she responds.

“The Yankees are batting now and I don’t want to see that. Besides, it won’t take that long.”

“Fine.”

We stand up and head to the line. I desperately want a hot dog. The line is so crowded and loud. Everyone’s talking and you can barley hear yourself think. Well, the line to get food took longer than I thought. We missed three innings and in those three innings, the score changes to 6-5, Red Sox leading. I am very disappointed, but I’m glad I have something to eat. I eat a hot dog and a sprite soda. As I eat, the fifth inning proceeds. As I eat my last bite of hot dog, [cough, cough]. I start to choke. Derek Jeter has just hit a home run and now the Yankees are up by two. I quickly drink a gulp of soda and try to clear my throat. I am so mad. This is why I hate Derek Jeter so much. One day that man will get what’s coming to him.

Three strikes, and the Red Sox get up to bat. I pray that the Red Sox will catch up at this point, but no luck. The inning is over as soon as it starts. The display of disappointment saddens the stadium. Boston fans are getting mad now.

During the previous innings, the Yankees are dominant. The game is now 5-9, advantage Yankees and it’s now the 8^th inning. The Red Sox are at bat with two outs. It seems as if the Yankees are going to win this game. Mike Lowell is up and hits a single. Jason Varitek is able to do the same as followed by Manny Ramirez. Then, “Big Papi” with the bases loaded, hits a homerun. The Red Sox still have a chance to win! Cheers throughout the crowd. I start screaming and jumping up and down.

The Red Sox get another out. The inning is now over. The next inning, will be the most crucial of the game. I’m so nervous at this point. My hands start shaking, my teeth are chattering, it seems like I am having a nervous breakdown.

The Yankees are up to bat with two outs. Derek Jeter, with bat in hand, stands at the plate. Clay pitches a strike! Next pitch, strike! Next pitch, homerun! No! Why? Derek Jeter is the worst man ever. Next batter, Johnny Damon. Clay fortunately pitches three strikes in a row. Will the Red Sox be able to come back?

The Red Sox are up and get 2 outs. Up to bat is Manny Ramirez. The ball is being pitched, hit and, homerun! Yes! The game is tied! Red Sox tie the game and up next, “Big Papi” David Ortiz. Pitch one, strike. Pitch two, strike. Pitch three…... these few seconds seem the longest ever. A few seconds sometimes feels like an eternity. Ortiz hits the ball. The balls air bound. It’s going, going, going. HOME RUN! The RED SOX WIN THE WORLD SERIES! I jump and scream: “Yankees suck. Red Sox win!” Everyone in the stadium is cheering.

As the Yankees leave, little kids are throwing food at them and repeatedly yell, “Yankees suck!” and “Ha, Ha, you lose!” I can’t help but to laugh. They deserve what they get. And the best part about it all, the ball David Ortiz hit goes so far, that it busts the windshield of Derek Jeter’s new car! He gets what he deserved.

---Brianna

The skyscraper stood tall against the smoky sky. It was arched majestically and the glass windows sparkled and shined in the morning sun. It was a beautiful building, but had the misfortune of being surrounded by other, equally beautiful buildings that made its own beauty nondescript. If that structure could talk, it most definitely would have lamented to you about the terrible fate it had to have been built on that corner of Garner and Franklin, but buildings couldn’t talk. They were built to house things that talked. And so, the story of that particular beautiful skyscraper now comes to a screeching halt. Now, let us adjust the reader’s point of view so that you may take a gander at what is on top of that particular skyscraper. It is not a blot, but indeed a human. A girl to be exact. She is precariously standing on the ledge of the edifice, and her bare toes are peaking out from underneath the concrete flooring of the top floor. Her name is Ashlyn.

Rain. Ashlyn lifted her hand, and levered it until it was stretched out in front of her, as if asking for alms. Soft pattering was heard as drops of water splashed in to her cupped hand. There was no railing, and a little wrong footing and she would fall 486 feet to her death.

“Hmm?” Another girl stood behind her, bundled up in layers of thick clothing. She looked like an Eskimo compared to the scantly- dressed, barefooted Ashlyn. She held a black umbrella over her head. “Ash lets go.”

Ashlyn gave no answer, but instead chose to focus her attention down. What a long way to fall…

“Ash… Ash its cold.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Max pouted. “Why did you drag me out here? It’s a Saturday. I could have been safe at home. And warm.” Max shifted uncomfortably back and forth between her feet. Ashlyn had always been weird. But this was creepy. And dangerous. Max didn’t like how intently the other girl stared at the 486 foot drop.

“Ash. Its dangerous to be standing there like that. Get off. Let’s take the metro. I’ll buy you a melon bar.”

The promising offer of frozen milk did not budge her from her spot on the edge.

“Ash. What’s wrong?”

The silence seemed deafening.

“Aaaaaash.” Max drew out the word. “If you don’t answer, I’m going home.” She wasn’t. She would never leave Ashlyn behind but was just a little embarrassed to be the only one participating in the conversation. And cold.

“…Max. Why are you my friend?” She said this very calmly, but it was very disconcerting.

“What do you mean?” Max fidgeted. “There is no real reason. You’re my friend. I’m yours. That’s all there is to it.”

The silence following that statement was only affected slightly by the pitter-patter of rain.

“I want chocolate.” She got off the ledge and slipped on her shoes.

“What?”

“You said you’d buy me an ice cream.” She grinned impishly at Max, then walked to the door that connected to the inside of the building. Max followed her to the door.

“I feel like this was your ulterior motive.”

--Mary Poppins

Artwork by Alexis

The Onion

"Come on son let e’m have it!" the mom yelled enthusiastically. The son was sweating by now, by the pressure of what he was doing, and the additional pressure his mom was putting on him. The boy raised his knife and… chop. As soon as this was done he burst into tears. "Oh come on son, the onions aren't even close to being done yet, you’ve only made one cut in it, and stop sweating your making the kitchen floor all wet."

--George

After the Prom

Her shiny, butter-gold hair shined in the fluorescent lighting of the diner, smelling like sweet peas. The white party dress she had bought at the classy clothing shop for bargain price was starched and clean, and her nervous date held her pale pink jacket over his left shoulder. His hair had been buffered and rubbed with sweet smelling cologne, enough to make her wrinkle her nose when he bent to give her the corsage, and the second-hand suit that he wore with pride made her smile. They sat on bright red stools, facing each other, she with her amused smile, and he with his complacent grin. They were easily the fanciest couple in the old, homely diner. --Mary Poppins