An old story

I am so lazy with this (OWW!) blog. In case you're wondering, the OWW! was in reference to a blood sugar test I just had done, and my finger hurts whenever I type the letters ,, o, or q (left ring finger in dvorak).

But yeah...lazy I am. So I decided that I should post some content from a story I wrote in 7th grade. You can't call me lazy, because I have to retype the entire thing, and with a decrepit finger at that. The first thing I notice is how nice my handwriting was back then. What happened? I must have been trying to write nice, because this is not like me at all...At any rate, here goes. Try not to laugh too hard at my lack of prose. Because there is a lot of prose in part three. I'm retyping this with spelling errors and all, so if there is a person named "Jenifer" in my audience, I beg your forgiveness.

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Mike Lizzard sat, reflecting upon his day. Mike was 32 months old, easily thought of as 25 months. At 6 inches long, he couldn't have been in better shape. Jenifer, his Lizardress, called him in for his nightly flies.

"Mmm, Mmm, Bar-b-qed flies! My favorite!" Jenifer was the fairest lizard in Oak meadows. At only 29 months old, Jenifer was the only lizard that could make a fly stand still in her wake. As Mike sat down to his insect, he heard Jim Kitt outside making all kinds of noise. Must be a mouse.

"Detective Lizzard...," Kitt burst in while trying to catch his breath. "Mr. Bunrab - has been chewed - to pieces..."

---

When Mike arrived at the Bunny Hills Apartment Complex (Hole # 12) he realized how gruesome this was. Bones were strewn everywhere, not to forget all the carrots. This was obviously a well planned Eat-and-Run.

"Golly," remarked Lizzard to Jim Kitt. "This is very gruesome! Apparently after Shneider Bunrab was eaten this sicko began eating Bunrab's carrots! Apparently the murderer was very calm, or he would have taken off immediately. This leads me to suspect the killer is still in Oak Field."

As the detective spoke, Honey Bearr appeared. Honey, the mayor of Oak Field, spoke out, "Detective Lizzard, I want the killer caught immediately! Mr. Bunrab was a very nice man and a leader of our socioty. If more were like him maybe animal cruelty would decrease and we could worry about the real problem, Them pesky humans!"

"We're doing our best Ms. Bearr...Mr. Kitt, would you mind coming with me?"

---

"Jim, sit down," Mike said offering Kitt his best litter box.

"Thanks," Kitt mumbled.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, Jim," the detective spoke, laying down in his lizard lagoon. "First off, is there anyone you know of that had a grudge against Bunrab?"

"Oh, Purr, ahm maybe Jake Tweet-Tweet. Shneider had been eying one of his eggs Thursday."

"Ok. Now, just when did you discover Mr. Bunrab was dead?"

"Mr. Bunrab had a meeting with me to discuss plans for his new carrotpatch. I was to plow the land for him and manage his garden 2 times a week."

"And how was he to pay you?"

"With some expensive cat food and 1 pound of dog buiscuts for my friend, Brandon Dogg."

"That will be all Jim. Thank you for your time."

"Um, Mike," Kitt stuttered.

"Yes?"

"Could you direct me to your, um, facilities?"

"You're sitting on them..."

---

"Mike, Mike, I'm innocent! Mice, Mice, they're all I ever eat! Mike, Mike, I may not have much sense, but I'd never perform this feat!" Jake exclaimed in his singsong voice.

"Mr. Tweet-Tweet, you are very capable of eating any rabbit alive. You are the main suspect I have as any hawk would love to get a nice tender rabbit."

"But why, why would I of all hawks in Oak Field be the one accused?!? All I was doing yesterday was taking a snooze!"

"A client told me yesterday he was eying one of you're eggs."

"An egg, an egg, have you no sense? Why would Bunrab think about cracking my egg on a fense? The thought, the thought, never crossed my mind. Why I'd never, ever, put Bunrab under my claws of grind!"

"Good lord, good lord, you're making me mad! If you'd cut out the poem I'd be very glad! Now one more question: why did you commit the crime?"

"I didn't, I didn't! Please stop the horrible hound that commited this crime!"

---

It struck Detective Lizzard as hard as stone.

"Exactly! That will be all for today, Mr. Tweet-Tweet!"

"What did I say? Was it a rhyme? Is he going to pay? The one that commited the crime?"

"I can't say anything Jake. You'll find out soon enough."

"But, but..."

It took Mike 15 minutes to get to Kitt's house of yarn.

"KITT?! KITT!! COME HERE IMMEDIATELY!"

"Yessir?!?"

"Where is your friend? The one you spoke of in the inteview?"

"Dogg? He's inside chewing his extra crispy bone!"

"Thanks," Mike exclaimed. "Brandon? Is that you Brandon Dogg?"

"It is I, Lizzard. What brings you here?"

"Finish your bone. It's the last you'll get in a while."

"Excuse me?" Brandon questioned.

"Brandon, I demand in the name of Oak Field's law that you come with me. You have been caught by me, Mike Lizzard, head chief of the Lizard Patrol. You murdered Mr. Bunrab...do you remember the occasion? I assume it was because you thought Shneider didn't have your dog biscuits Kitt had earned."

"You're good! However, I don't think you'll be locking me in you're Lizard Lagoon today!"

As Brandon began to run, he stumbled upon something. It was a, a...A RAT?!? Lizard looked up just in time to see Jake Tweet-tweet come flying down, slamming into Brandon's front-right leg. Crack!!! Blood was gushing out of Dogg's leg...O positive...Lizzard told Mr. Tweet-tweet to fly into town and get the strongest animals. When Jake returned he had 2 dogs, Honey Bearr, and 20 fleas (You can never be too carefull). Honey lifted Brandon up and help him so that the 2 dogs could hoist Dogg on their backs.

"Dogg, if you try anything I'll kill you just as you killed Shneider Bunrab!" exclaimed Honey.

Dogg groaned, and said something about his animal rights. 20 minutes later Dogg was sitting in his cell in the Oak Field Prison.

"How in the world did you know who committed the crime?" asked Mike.

"I didn't I didn't I tell you the truth. Obviously, obviously, you're a great sleut--"

"Don't even start..." Mike interrupted.

The End!

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Hooray! That's a classic. If you saw "you're"s in place of "your"s, it's because it was in the original manuscript. I know what you're thinking. "Mark is a complete moron with no concept of grammar. And he's terrible at finding good friends that aren't overly critical of every work he's ever done!"

I respond to the former: "Go eat pickled pigs' feet, you jrekface! I was in seventh grade!"

And to the latter: "Agreed."