For some time now, Kenaniah and I have been writing a story together, one filled with beautifully rich and well-crafted characters, core-deep themes, professionally classed dialogue, and high scoring, involved plots.
Unfortunately for you, we've decided to keep that story under wraps for now to avoid any of our masterful work getting stolen and have resolved to post mumble-jumble instead to confuse potential competitors. (Okay, so, truth be told, what you see happens to be what you get, and if it's all mumble-jumble and gobbledygook, then so be it and let the craziness unfold.)
For a little over a year now I've sincerely enjoyed writing with my favorite little brother--even if it's just so my own craziness can get out a little to stretch and point and laugh at the crazy, upside-down world. Up until this point, I've not been much help posting on this blog, so it may surprise people to see me here, but when I impulsively asked Kenaniah yesterday evening if he would like me to post our story on the family blog he nodded, said 'sure' and promptly began to visualize book deals and movie contracts. Me and my mouth.
All that is to say, 'here's some randomness and a side of pie, please get a spoon, and be careful not to spill the whipped cream'. We hope you enjoy!
Chapter
1: Involving Icky Purple Goop
Once
upon a time there was a little boy and he was six years old. His name
was Kenaniah. He really liked to ride his bike; he rode it in circles
and up and down hills. He even rode it at the park. But this has
nothing to do with our story. Yet.
One
day, his sister, Katrina was typing on the computer and Kenaniah came
up to her. He was wearing her old manatee shirt that she really,
really loved but it was too small for her. He was also wearing grey
sweatpants with a really, really, really
big hole.
He
asked his sister, “Can you write a story about me?”
She
said, “No.”
“But you
are!”
he said and pointed his hand at the screen which read “But
you are!”
he said and pointed his hand at the screen which read—er,
never
mind.
“Oh.”
she said.
He
laughed—he didn’t really but Katrina thought it would look good
in the story.
Then
a great big purple grapefruit fell out of the sky and hit them both,
covering them in icky purple goop.
“We
are covered in icky purple goop!” Kenaniah cried.
Then
their friend Steve Cucumber came over to them. He stared at them. And
stared at them.
“You
are covered in icky purple goop!” he cried.
Katrina
looked at him. “Duh.”
“Yes,
right, well duh.” Steve replied, confused.
“We
already noticed the ‘covered in icky purple goop’ problem, now
help us fix it!” she said.
“But
I don’t know how to help you when you are covered in icky purple
goop!”
Kenaniah
looked at both of them. “Stop saying that over and over and over
and over and over!!!!!”
They
looked at him.
“No.”
Steve Cucumber said.
“Because
we are still covered in icky purple goop!!!!!!!!!!” Katrina added.
Kenaniah
put his head in his hands. “Oh, dear.” he moaned.
Katrina
turned to Steve Cucumber. “How do you wash off grapefruit?” she
asked.
“You
mean the icky purple goop?”
She
sighed. “Duh.”
“Oh.”
Katrina
moaned.
“What?!”
Steve asked.
“You.”
she groaned. “You and your icky purple grapefruit goop!” Katrina
put her head in her hands as well.
“It’s
not mine!” he protested.
“Mumhf
grunk fumf muff?” Kenaniah asked.
“Gerump
glup uhn muumfhgook muff muh.” Katrina answered.
Steve
stared at them. “What?”
“Muumhhf
grunnk fumf muff!” Kenaniah said, a little louder.
“Um.”
Steve said.
Katrina
lifted her head out of her hands. “He asked me if I knew where a
bath was and I told him that there was one in the bathroom.”
“Ah,
very good!” Steve exclaimed.
So
Kenaniah and Katrina both took baths and got all of the purple
grapefruit goop off of them and then they went outside and rode their
bikes. (And Kenaniah took his face out of his hands so that he could
ride his
bike.)
It
was sunny and nice and warm and they had a lot of fun and nobody got
hurt or anything or even muddy.
Then
a giant grapefruit fell out of the sky and hit Kenaniah and Katrina
again, covering them with icky purple goop.
“We
are covered in icky purple goop again!” they cried.
“Duh.”
Steve said.
The
End (for now)
