186 lines
9.6 KiB
Plaintext
186 lines
9.6 KiB
Plaintext
ALL IN A DAY'S IMAGINATION: WALTER MITTY REVISED, by THETA SIGMA
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Okay...This is an essay I wrote a while back. I thought some of you modem
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users might get a kick out of it...if not, well I triedto be humorous. You
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might say I'm transmitting this file to get established in the text-file world.
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I am in the middle of writting an epic novel right now involving many of the
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famous Anarchy characters and other individual users. And last but not least,
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E.M.P.I.R.E. was a terrific flop. So, instead of a club...its *my* text-file
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company...nobody else is in it. Its not an anti-anarchy company or anything (as
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a matter of fact, this writer had a great deal of respect for the group.) So
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without much further boredom...A humorus account of my typical weekday...
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[->)*E.M.P.I.R.E.*(<-]
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Presents with great pride...
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"All in a day's imagination."
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Written By:Theta Sigma
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Brrrrrrrzzzut! I woke with a start. "Grrr...Damn alarm!" I mumbled to myself
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while fumbling for the switch. I fell to the floor. I grumbled something
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unpleasant about the floor's lineage. While dressing in clashing colors, I
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turned on the radio. The alarm was still buzzing away. I turned the radio up.
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I heard the radio announcer's voice blare, "And now a KRAP Exclusive! From the
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album "Why Wait?" The new one from Royal Sin..."Kalamazoo!" The music started
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and I arose from the middle of the stage in front of a thousand screaming fans.
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I began to strum my guitar and to sing the lyrics to the song. It sent
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electricity through the concert hall. I bent down and sang in front a beautiful
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young lady. She was hysterical. I kissed her lightly on the cheek. She melted
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away like butter in a microwave. I began my guitar solo. I had just reached
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the climax of the solo when my door clicked open and my mother said it was time
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for chores. I let the baseball bat I was holding fall from my limp hands.
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After breakfast, I slipped out the front door. An icy blast of air hit me. I
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glanced at my watch. It showed the time, my location, the location of my
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objective, and the location of the nearest McDonald's. I was was unusally
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nervous. I guess my role of double agent was getting to me. I wiped the
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glistening sweat from my soaked forehead. I glanced at the watch, again.
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"7:25am. 15 minutes to objective." I said under my breath. Suddenly I heard
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heavy footsteps. I turned down the nearest alley to see if they would follow.
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The footsteps were still with me and getting closer. I sent an emergency
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distress call through the transmitter in my watch. I reached into my jacket and
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fingered the .45 Automag in my shoulder holster. I could not stand the suspense
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any longer. I pulled out my gun, whirled around, and yelled in my best Clint
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Eastwood voice, "Go ahead, make my day!"
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"Don't mind if I do have a granola bar. Sheesh! I thought you were going to
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pull a knife on me." I heard my best friend say while prying the granola bar out
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of my hand. I walked on sheepishly to school. I stamped over to my locker.
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One terrible word hit me. Orange! My locker was orange. "Bleagh." I said with
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much distaste. I began to fiddle with the combination dial. I glanced at the
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small computer that was randomly spitting out combinations. My companion was
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worried. "What if the police come? What if we get caught?" he kept moaning.
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"Don't worry. We've got two minutes until the next guard comes by." I said
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cooly. The computer beeped. It had found one of the numbers. It beeped again.
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It had found the second number.
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"You're running out time!" my companion wailed hopelessly. "Shut up!!!" I
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snapped back, viciously. The computer beeped. It found the third number. I
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dialed it quickly. "Ta da!" I cried triumphantly.
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All of a sudden there were crashing noises and all my books had piled
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themselves upon me. My imaginary companion faded from my view. A friend of
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mine, witnessing this spectical, glided over to me.
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"Well heavenly days, Mcgee, I told you not to open that closet." She said
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sarcastically.
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"I don't know, Mollie. I really am going to have to clean out that dag gummed
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thing one of these days." I said. The bell rang. I grabbed the books I needed
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and threw the rest of them in the ugly orange locker.
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First period was uneventful. I slept the entire time. I dreamed that
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billions of orange lockers with fluorescent green legs kept running after me
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yelling, "Daddy...Daddy." I ran through the hall, pushing lower classmen out of
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the way. I left a whole pile of the insubordinate runts wiggling over by the
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science hall. I was nearing my English class. I slowed down and adjusted
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myself. I entered the smoke filled room. I gave the place a quick once over.
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The piano man was playing the theme from Casablancha. Then I saw her. She was
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the girl of my dreams. Our eyes met. Her sad eyes looked up at me, pleading.
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She motioned for me to come to her. I walked smoothly over to her. I sat next
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to her. She leaned over and spoke. "Hello. Do you have your math homework
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done?" she said sweetly.
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"Yes." I said suavely. I, however, suspected something.
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"May I borrow it? I left my book at home." she said.
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"Certainly." I said, disappointedly.
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"Class. Please take out your vocabulary." I heard my teacher say.
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"Thank you." She said.
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"No problem." I said, trying to mask my hurt.
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Soon English was over and break was upon me. I rushed over to the line for a
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snack. "Hello, Comrade. What are you here for?" I said to the guy with the
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sable hat in front of me.
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"Eh? Oh! The usual. Shoes, toothpaste, and toilet paper." he said with a
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thick Russian accent. It started snowing.
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"I hate the Party! Selfish pigs!" I said with rebellion in my eyes.
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"Shhhhh! The KGB has agents all over the place." the man said, worried.
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"To Siberia with the KGB! I'm going to find a way to defect!" I screamed.
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Just then a man in an overcoat came over to me and laid his hand on my shoulder
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and said, "Son...You're holding up the line." I gulped. It was the
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vice-principal. "Sorry, sir." I said meekly and walked up to the window.
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"Ugh!" I declared with utter disgust as I looked at the mess the girl handed to
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me. I was hungry so I closed my eyes and gulped it down. I went to history. I
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spent the whole hour writing notes. One of my pens ran out of ink, another had
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a bad leak, and still a third decided to leap from my hand and find a convenient
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hiding place under somebody's desk. I decided pencil would be a much more
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productive writing tool. The bell rang and I raced down the hall, injuring
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several people who I had used as stepping stones. I went into geometry. A
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fearful thought crossed my mind. We had a test. I began feverishily to work on
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the problems. All too soon the bell rang. I scribbled my name on the paper and
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put it in the basket. I ran to the lunch line. Again, I had to eat the food
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with my eyes closed. Otherwise, lunch was dull.
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I stumbled into advanced biology. In big white, unfriendly letters on the
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blackboard was scrawled: "GET A DISSECTION PAN AND KIT. WE ARE GOING TO
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DISSECT SQUID." I registered my utter distaste by uttering a single word:
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"Yuck!"
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I cut into the flesh of the organism. A nurse babbled something vulgar about
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the smell. "Be quiet, nurse. We have to find out what has been causing these
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deaths." I said. I carefully probed the inside thing. I came across a fluid
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filled sac. "I've never seen that before." said a young intern. "Stand back!
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This could be it!" I said while delicately pinching at the sac. "Clean Up!" my
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teacher bellowed. The bell rang. I ran out into the hall. Smack! "Ow...Who
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the hell...Oh...I'm sorry." I said nervously to a rather large football player.
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"No problem." he grunted. I rushed to Drama. "Oh Wow!" I exclaimed. I
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realized that I had to do a rather long speech and got into character. I walked
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out onto the stage and surveyed the theater. I began my moving speech. I was
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doing the part of Romeo. When I finished my speech, the crowd broke into wild
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cheering. There were flowers being thrown on the stage. As I bowed gracefully,
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I heard a rather disconcerting rip. I flushed bright red. My jeans had ripped
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at the seam. I looked at my classmates and then rushed off stage.
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I rushed home in a daze. I bumped into my mom as I came into the house. "Get
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your head out of the clouds, Walter" she said. "Whose Walter?" I asked,
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confused.
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"Walter Mitty. Haven't you ever read it?" She asked.
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"No." I said.
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"Just one moment." My mother said. She went over to bookshelf and pulled down
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a book. She tossed it to me and said, "Read." I dragged myself out of the
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hallway and into my own room. I read the cover. It read: The Secret Life of
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Walter Mitty and other short stories. It was by James Thurber. I opened the
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book to the story. I began to read. "Pockata ...Pockata...Pockata." I read out
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loud. Soon, I was lost in another world.
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[----------*>The end.
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Well, if you enjoyed this file, have any comments, or just plain hated it,
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leave me a msg. on the Zone (253-2140) or here.
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---->*Coming Soon*<----
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to your local AE
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[->)*E.M.P.I.R.E.*(<-]
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]->Text-file Dept<-[
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Presents
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"The Day The Modem World Stood Still"
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Or
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"The Pheds Strike Back"
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Previews schedualed for the weekend of 5/11/86! This promises to be a better
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text-file...Suprising Situations, hilarious dialogue, new characters, sad
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deaths, and an interesting conclusion.
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Call The Works BBS - 1600+ Textfiles! - [914]/238-8195 - 300/1200 - Always Open
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