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Mighty Stump's Revenge - co-written in 2002-2003

 

It was a typical day in London, England, for the sky was radiant and the sun was shining; yet evil lurked around every corner of East London High. Sticky Stump placidly resided in the faculty lounge, feet up, sipping a glass of homogenized milk, and watching the game.

Meanwhile, a corrupted mind dwelled in Mrs. King's history class, room 317. Sensing displeasure in his taste buds, he decided to dispose of his hour-old chewing gum. But his setting would not permit such movement. It was the final exam; there was to be no talking, cheating, bathroom breaks, or getting out of seats. This forbids a trip to the garbage can, leaving the boy with no other choice. He could swallow it; however, as superstition goes, he didn't want to chance seven years worth of digestion. Or, he could place the exuberant wad of gum under his desk. This stuck out as the easiest solution for him. Quickly, he looked around at the expanse of his classmates, making sure they were too wrapped up in their tests to notice the crime about to take place. As soon as the coast was clear, the boy began to dredge the gum out of his mouth.

Sticky, becoming rankled, sensed the event that was about to put the hygiene of East London High in jeopardy. He started to twitch and immediately rose to defend against the grail and its seemingly impossible quest. Reaching for his tunic, he zealously dashed out of the faculty lounge in ardent pursuit.

Sticky Stump saw his 17-year career flash before his eyes. Ever since he had been inaugurated into the East London High staff, there wasn't a single piece of gum that had touched the underside of the precious desks. He had carried on the Stump tradition, the profession that his fathers and grandfathers before him had had. Thinking of the shanty of a school East London High would have been without his presence, he was utterly determined to defend against all evil.

Sticky darted through the hallways to room 317. Sprinting, one foot in front of the other, and breathing rhythmically, Sticky immediately made progress. He glanced to his left, observing the almighty red and gold terrapin mascot, which resembled East London High and its abundant source of pride. Room 227 passed by, and his pace accelerated; time was of the essence. Then, with a quick jolt, he veered right, and the amethyst corridor faded into a pale brick red. Approaching room 313, Sticky felt a sharp pain in his lower right abdomen. Cringing in pain and grasping his right side, he carried on, for he knew that the cleanliness of East London High rested in his hands. Although out of breath, Sticky Stump quickly approached room 315 and then finally, room 317 was in sight.

The only thing that stood between him and this evildoer was this separator, the towering wooden inferno, the door to Mrs. King's history class. He would soon catch the person who was wickedly defiling this earth. He advanced to the door and glanced up at its mountainous height. Cautiously, he took three paces back, wound up his arms in remedial pursuit, and with all his might charged at the door.

It was locked.

Not letting the soreness from the blow stop him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of several shiny golden keys. Knowing exactly which key to use, Sticky furiously erupted into the room knocking a filing cabinet with the blow of the door. The cabinet shook unsteadily, wavering to and fro, and suddenly it plunged to its death and hit the floor. Along with it, like waves crashing on a beach, a bottled skiff sailed through the air and shattered on the ground, demolishing its thwart.

Sticky dashed into the room and tried to cajole himself to forget the severity of the situation. However, he could not remain calm. He spotted the evil child that was planning on purposely misplacing his gum under the desk and began to steam in anger. He and the boy made eye contact and maintained it throughout the whole experience. With a plunger in his belt and brandishing a burlap gunnysack in his right hand, Sticky ran towards the boy. The boy's blonde hair stood on end, and his menacing smile began to fade, for a 4'2" man with a janitor's cape was charging at him.

Sticky was only a few steps away from the boy, and time began to brake. It seemed as if he was running in slow motion. The whole class, turning to look, gasped as Sticky's cape came unhemmed and interfered with his seemingly slow strides. The soles of his shoes left unsteady footprints in the air as he clumsily glided and immediately faced a head on collision with the amber tiled floor. Embarrassment could not stop him, for Sticky was immune to his lack of grace. Sticky peeled himself from the floor's surface and stood face to face with immorality.

As soon as he was in reaching distance, Sticky snatched the pink wad of gum from the boy's hand and proudly plunged it into his gunnysack. East London High was saved.

Sticky's fatigues billowed in the wind from the open classroom window. He stood with hands resting on hips and eyes directed towards the heavens, for his dignity and pride persevered. With a smirk, Sticky Stump exclaimed, "Victory has been achieved!"