Virtual or Reality Ch 2

This is the second blog in a series.


Chapter 2:

What do you do when you hear a sonic boom and see an alien space ship streak across the sky and land on an island in the middle of a lake? If you are heedless like Max, Jack, Lewis, Lucy and Emily, you run towards it…

A tidal wave of dust swept across the island, finally everything was as still as a car with no wheels. With a sigh of smoke, the four parts of the arrow- head- like-ship protruding out of the ground split revealing four monstrous creatures. Each one looked different, but all equally horrific.

The five children then witnessed a heated discussion consisting of gruff grunts and meaningful murmuring. As the conversation drew to an end, the lift chugged down the super structure and a squad of beasts were flung out of the base and soared towards them. Teeth baring, mechanical wings spread, the creatures advanced in formation towards the fear stricken children that can’t believe their eyes.

The five children, scared out of their wits, ran to the cover of a gloomy pine forest. After a minute’s breather, the children ventured further into the patch of forest that none of them had been in before. As they rounded a huge blackened tree they encountered a reasonably sized hut, it had boarded up windows and a crooked chimney stretching out of the roof. As they crept round the back they saw that the door was ajar. What could possibly be inside?

Virtual or Reality?

This is the first blog post of a series.


Chapter 1
Just a Game.

Laser beams were flying across the forest clearing like bolts of lightning. Neither of the two players (Jack and Lewis) had a clue that Max was there spectating, high up in a bushy pine tree. Max had already eliminated one unsuspecting player with the element of surprise, could he eliminate the winner of this duel and win the game?

Alien Tag was the most popular game of 2033, everyone was playing it. To play, you must have a body vest, headset and laser gun, you then register in a group and have thirty seconds to run before the game begins. Players eliminate each other by shooting with their laser guns, attempting to be the last one standing. The game can be played whenever you like, wherever you happen to be. Max and his friends had chosen to play in the woodlands near their isolated village.

Finally Jack landed a good shot on Lewis and knocked him from the game. Circling the clearing Jack stopped just a few metres away from Max. “Oh thank you,” whispered Max, lining up his sights upon Jack, and when Jack turned Max let loose a flurry of laser bolts into the back of his friend’s head. As Jack’s body vest vibrated, Max’s headset said in a robotic voice “you have won the game.”

The three friends (Max, Jack and Lewis) took off their headsets and shouldered their laser guns. They set off to find the other two players, Lucy (Jack’s sister) and her friend Emily. As the five friends made their way out of the forest they heard a bone-shaking crash from the direction of the lake…

Eye of the Storm

Eye of the Storm

Today was the annual meeting of primary school leaders. The meeting consisted of the chair of governors and the head teacher of all the primary schools in the area. This year it was Oakmere’s turn to host it.

At first, everything was running smoothly: the meeting had started on time, refreshments were plentiful, and Mr. Sloathington was a very happy man. At 11.20, the meeting had been running for 20 minutes, but Miss Grumble had a very urgent message for Mr. Sloathington that he needed to see right away, so she commanded Tom to take it up to the Head Teacher. She took a malicious pleasure in making students, especially the ones she loathed, do a lot of jobs and errands for her. Tom was her favourite victim.

So Tom unwillingly trudged up to the hall to deliver the “urgent” note. When Tom arrived at the hall door he knocked and courteously said “sorry to interrupt you sir, but…”
As soon as Mr. Sloathington heard the word “sorry”, lightning flashed in his piggy little eyes. His chair flew out behind him as he stood up, knocking over the poor caretaker, and his eyebrows turned to menacing grey clouds. Tom could hear the thunder in his voice as Mr. Sloathington boomed “Tom, you wretched creature, I am not going to have one more **** mention of that stupid word in my school! Get out, you **** boy.”

First, there was silence, deadlier than the storm of anger. Then, one of the visiting head teachers cleared his throat and spoke wisely: “Tom, maybe you should leave that note with me and go back to your classroom.” As the door swung shut behind him, Tom heard him say to Mr. Sloathington “Norman…” and then the room was filled with cries of anger, but one phrase stuck in Tom’s mind, “you should not have the privilege of working with children.”

They never saw, heard or smelled him ever again.

A few months later.

Tom was now in secondary school, enrolling at Oakmere High, and he was buzzing with excitement about his first art lesson of the year. He walked through the classroom door, eager to succeed, and heard a familiar voice: “Hello Tom,” spoke Miss Rose’s soft, petal-like voice.

Science Fair

The first story in the series is “Introducing Tom”.  Please check it out on my blog.

Science Fair

Volcanic. Volcanic and explosive. Have you ever seen anger that is volcanic and explosive? Well Alex and Millie did on the day of the Science Fair.

It was an Oakmere tradition that every Year 6 class pairs up and creates a science project, then the class teacher accompanied by the head teacher goes around to every pair and tests their project. Of course, for this particular year group, that meant Miss Grumble and Mr Sloathington. SORI weren’t going to miss their chance.

The class were learning about the Romans, so Alex and Millie were making a volcano based on Vesuvius. In Vesuvius’ last eruption part of the volcano caved in, blocking the crater like a cork or a plug, Alex and Millie were going to act out the next eruption. The construction was built up of papier mache and a container of bicarbonate of soda was hidden inside. Hidden inside the crater was a little straw to add the vinegar and red dye to create a messy mixture.

It was the day of the Science Fair and everyone was buzzing. All around the hall there were circuits, lanterns and electromagnets – but only one volcano. Alex and Millie’s insides were bubbling like the red-dyed ‘lava’ mixture that soon was going to explode inside their volcano.

Striding in came Miss Grumble followed by her fiancé Mr Sloathington. Their cold-blooded, menacing faces stuck out like a sore thumb in the excitement of the hall. Alex and Millie had positioned themselves at the back of the hall (to be seen last) so as to get everyone watching and to make sure no one missed out.

Finally the stomach churning waiting was over, the children gathered round, the red dye was poured in by Alex, then in a very polite tone Millie asked Mr Sloathington if he would do the honours of pouring in the vinegar. When Mr Sloathington poured it in, it popped, fizzed, bubbled and whizzed. Suddenly the entire mixture flew out at Mr Sloathington, it caked his hairy face and splattered his sweat-soaked shirt, but the eruption of the volcano was nothing like the eruption of Mr Sloathington’s anger. His face turned very white, then very red, then very, very purple. In a menacing, blood curdling tone (worse than the smell in the hall at that moment) Mr Sloathington simply whispered “My office the two of you, now!”

The two satisfied children were escorted out by a wide round of applause. No matter what the furious head teacher did to them, it was worth it.

Please tell me in the comments section below if you have ever encountered anger that is volcanic and explosive.

The Red Rose

The first post in this series was “Introducing Tom”.  Please check it out on my blog.img_0208

S.O.R.I. had gone down a storm. They now had an emblem, the red rose. Inspired by their wondrous art teacher, their resistance had a new found driving force behind them.

It was a dawn of a new day, and (of course) a new prank. Mr. Sloathington didn’t exactly arrive early, he arrived late- very late indeed- but that still left just enough time for the leaders of S.O.R.I. to have a little play in the car park…

As soon as they met up, they set to work: seas of rose petals flooded the ground. A knee high barrier of the delicate but bold-looking petals sat in a ring around the filthy, rusty, old hatch back that had seen better days. S.O.R.I. thought that the rose petals made it look quite good, in fact better than it had in a long time.

That was not all though, S.O.R.I. badges started “mysteriously” appearing in everyone’s trays. The red rose also started “randomly” appearing on all of Tom’s books…

(When school’s supposed to finish)
Like a gargantuan, raving, fat bull Mr. Sloathington charged and started kicking the rose petals everywhere,”ssssssssooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.”


Once more they were sitting in one of Mr. Sloathington’s unbelievably tedious assemblies; the group of crusading rebels had decided to form S.O.R.I. (Sloathington Out. Rose In) to campaign for the return of their beloved art teacher. The stakes were higher than ever for the children.

“Sori, Sori, Sori,” out of the blue, Millie started a whisper of a chant. “Sori, Sori, Sori,” the rest of the group joined in and the chant grew to a low rumble. “Stop this now,” bellowed Mr. Sloathington, bewildered. “Sori, Sori, Sori,” soon all of the older children were joining in, creating an earthquake of sound. “What is this?” Mr. Sloathington bawled as his head turned to an enraged plum. By now a tsunami was surging in the hall, the excitement bursting out as all the children found their voices. “Sori, Sori, Sori, Sori!”
“Stop this right this second,” Mr. Sloathington exclaimed as his foot came clattering down on the floor with a terrific bang. The noise died instantly – but the damage had been done…

During the following week, posters were flying up and being torn back down. S.O.R.I. was growing. Pictures of Mr. Sloathington stamping his foot with a giant baby’s head on his protruding neck, pictures of a sloth having a nap, and bottles of cola with “Sloth” written down the side. The campaign was gaining momentum…





I am the proud owner of three humans! There’s Furry (Dad) who plays a game with me called Shoo – get off the chair, and then there’s Feeder (Mum) the infinite source of food, and best of all there’s Player (Millie), the one that came up with those funny names (Mum and Dad). Oh I almost forgot, then there’s Mr. Sloathington, Millie’s awful head teacher, I’m glad I don’t own him, I do my business in his front garden every evening when Millie takes me for a walk; oddly she doesn’t clear that one up and take it home in a bag.

If I were the eighth dwarf my name would be Bouncy, I just can’t help “bouncing off the walls” as Mr. Furry describes it. I have come to the conclusion that it’s all my species’ fault – whatever that is. I worked this out because when Mr. Furry complains about me Millie says, “It’s what she’s meant to do, her species is springer spaniel, she is meant to spring”. But whatever Furry says I just keep on bouncing, because I know he loves me really.

Wednesday and Thursday afternoons, when Feeder goes out to work, is my time to shine. I become so many superheroes, from the secret snack snatcher to the cheeky chair chewer and the proud pillow pillage. After saving the house, sort of, I have a little paws – ha ha, dog pun – and wait by the door for Millie to return home.

I feel envious of Millie, she has opposable thumbs, I wish I could throw sticks, unfair, but she doesn’t have a tail, so we’re even!! Also I have never seen her lick anybody, odd.


Too Much Reality

Too Much Reality: A Tom Story

“Darkness is falling over Oakmere Primary School. How is this possible? Miss Rose has been sacked; somehow over the course of the day my shoes and socks have come off; at lunch someone ran into me carrying a whole jug of juice (drenching me); Ben, Alex, Millie, Louis and Billy have all disappeared, and no one will tell me where they are. My lunch has been stolen by Mr. Sloathington”, thought Tom, as he decided to just curl up on the run-down, broken bench in a dark, muddy corner of the playground where no one usually went. “I don’t even know if this makes me feel better or worse, but Mr. Sloathington and Miss Grumble have announced their engagement.” Miserable and exasperated, Tom started trudging across the playground with a growing sense of confusion – he had forgotten the way to his classroom…

Then Tom woke up; gasping for breath, drowning in a pool of his own sweat and his heart beating like a galloping horse. Immediately he drew the curtains, refreshing daylight flooded in and filled the room. It was then that he realised he was going to be late for school. He threw clothes over his head like a hyper chimpanzee attempting to dress himself. He then sprinted down the stairs and quickly picked up a piece of jam on toast, shouting his mum a swift goodbye, he charged off to school.

Reaching the gate, in a fit of coughs and splutters, Tom peered around. He could not spot Ben or Alex – where could they possibly be? Louis made him jump as he ran up behind him and the two boys continued into school together talking about how odd it was that Tom’s dream was so similar to reality, two of his best friends absent. Just as Tom finished telling Louis about the rest of his hideous nightmare, they were let into class.

A gleeful Miss Grumble told them, after they had settled down, the colossal news. “You will no longer be having your weekly art lesson with Miss Rose, for she has been sacked. Art is as pointless as the teacher who taught you it”, Miss Grumble had a very unusual expression on her face – she was smiling – but she looked like a goat chewing on barbed wire (she didn’t mean to look like this, it was just that she had never smiled before)! On Miss Grumble’s shrivelled old finger Tom noticed a gleaming new diamond engagement ring. He whispered to Louis, “too much reality”.

Prank Season Part 3

Just nine days after Ben, Millie and Louis’ hilarious prank had accomplished everything that they had hoped and more (laughs), the troublesome band of Year 6s were on a roll. The third prank was coming up, but this time new recruit Billy was the brains behind the badness.

As Billy and Tom were talking in the park, Billy said “I’m going to give the cola-addicted Sloth a little sticky holiday.” Confused, Tom contemplated this weird phrase, but when he turned to ask Billy what he meant, Billy had disappeared into class like an excited guinea pig running for food, calling over his shoulder “just wait and see.”

“Billy, take the register up to the office,” Miss Grumble ordered rudely. The shady boy took the folder from the teacher’s desk with an innocent smile. As soon as he got out onto the corridor, he broke into a jog, he had to be quick if he was going to make it in time! Opening the door to the male teacher’s toilet he slipped a tool and a bottle out of his pocket and set to work. Thirty seconds later he was done and on his way back to class without the register file.

It was ten past ten and Mr Sloathington was peering down at his watch, “I just have time to nip to the loo,” he reassured himself. He had a slow jog (that was more like a waddle) but to him was quite athletic, and squeezed through the doorway of the bathroom, locking it behind him (with a soft squelch). A few moments later Mr Sloathington tried to open the door: his first problem was that the lock would not budge (jammed like a rock with a good dollop of Billy’s adhesive); his second problem was that he yanked and yanked at the door handle, which came off in his hand (helpfully loosened by Billy earlier that morning).

Meanwhile in the assembly hall the children were having a great time with Miss Rose, who was filling in for the absent Sloth. She had brought a big piece of paper down and was teaching them all how to draw different creatures. She was taking suggestions from the children, unsurprisingly the first one that they asked for was a sloth. The time flew by and before they knew it, it was ten forty so Miss Rose decided to just send them all out to play.

Back in the bathroom, Mr Sloathington was bubbling over with fuming anger, he had tried to knock the door down with his meaty fists, his chubby feet and even his protruding posterior. His voice was hoarse from bellowing for what felt like hours, he slumped against the unyielding door.

It was now lunchtime and Miss Grumble was striding with the most unusual wide grin on her face (it was not used to smiling), she was going to the office of the secret love of her life, Mr Sloathington. “I am here to share my biscuits with…” stumped to see an empty room she decided to go for a look around, hoping he might have gone to her classroom. Mr Sloathington, hearing her high heels clip clopping along the corridor, was flooded with relief, “Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? I am stuck in the loo.”

Driven by her love for the stinky head teacher she attempted to batter the door down but ended up knocking the door off its hinges, snapping the metal bar of the lock and knocking Mr Sloathington flat on his back, knocking the hairy beast unconscious. As Miss Grumble heroically administered the kiss of life to her scratchy bearded, unshaven friend, embarrassingly whilst a group of seven Year 4 children walked past, they then went on and told every last pupil and staff member about the “romantic” event.
Billy is a genius!