Thursday, December 7, 2017

BS for Class: A Short Story

I was running through the forest, about to lose my mind over finals. I had a portfolio to finish, if I wanted to graduate, which I did.
Originally, the trip was meant as an expedition to find said tale in the wild, but no dice. The story wasn't just lying on the ground ready for death. I was going to have to chase it, hence the running. Then as I bounced into a clearing, I saw the clear white tale of some beautiful BS.
This was the thing I had been chasing. All accounts pointed towards being quiet when sneaking up on class projects, but I'm not the normal kind of person. I readied my pen for an attack. I'd pen this BS for my class, if it were the last thing I did. And I wouldn't wait until the late wee morning to do it. I was going to get it now.
 I pounced forward, and the BS leapt away, blocking my attempt. It didn't know that I was out to win. How could it? It was just some BS. It pranced about the clearing mocking me with its every gesture. Now? No, it was going to get it. No longer did I want to pen the BS.
No. Now, I wanted to ride it. I was going to ride that BS into class, dismount, and stare the professor directly in the face. "This is my BS for class," I'd say, but first I'd have to catch it. I eluded me with every twist of it's pristine white body, but I knew its movements. I knew its way.
"I'm going to catch you." The beast twisted its neck, flexing spikes into its back, creating a rider's block. It knew what it was doing. I twisted my pen about and with one decisive movement, I stabbed the BS in the neck, and it collapsed at my feet.
Into the dead air of night, I gathered it's body. I proclaimed into the night, "I penned my BS for my portfolio, even though it gave me rider's block!"

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