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I am packing to go stay with my grandparents for a week. We leave tomorrow so I won't be posting another entry till next week.
Here is chapter 2 of my book. Enjoy!
Chapter 2 Mr. Phelps! Hello Christina Ballerina. Mr. Phelps greeted me. His voice was absolutely sickening. It was deep and slow as if a turtle was talking. My name is Chris, I clenched my teeth in anger and annoyance, and Im not a ballerina. Christina Michelle Hotkins! my mother shrieked. Uh oh. I thought. I knew what the middle name meant. Apologize to Mr. Phelps at once! ordered my father. Sorry. I mumbled. I didnt mean it one bit though. Open your mouth like a crocodile. Mr. Phelps told me. I rolled my eyes but did as I was told. After sitting in the chair for about 10 minutes I got bored (and annoyed with Mr. Phelps for sticking his hand in my mouth). So, to make something interesting happen I bit down on Mr. Phelpss finger. Boy did I get what I bargained for! When I did, Mr. Phelps Yelled and jumped back in surprise (and in pain too because I bit kinda hard). He jumped back so far and with such force that he knocked over a wrack of magazines he had for the parents to read while in the room. All the magazines avalanched on top of him so that when they had finished all you could see of him was his head. As the magazines fell his arm knocked against a table that held a fish bowl. The goldfish bowl fell and landed upside down on Mr. Phelpss head! He looked extremely, positively, exceedingly, unbearably, hilarious! Being nothing but a pile of magazines with a fish bowl stuck on his head and all. I started to snicker. Then the snickers turned into giggles. Then it came to absolute laughter! Everyone in the dentist office came running to help Mr. Tooth Head to his feet. My parents must have apologized hundreds of times before we left. My mom grabbed me tightly by the arm. Her long fingernails dug into my skin. I pressed my lips together as I felt the excruciating pain shoot through my arm and squirmed to get more comfortable. My mother dragged me to the door. I looked back and saw Mr. Phelps glaring a poisonous glare at me. I stuck my tongue out at him and tossed my head. I had won the fight.
C ya!
funkymonkey
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