Thursday, February 25, 2016

For John - Going Gently Story

I saw John's post and it made me chuckle. Thought there could be something for me to play with. Here it is - 15 minutes of playing around waiting for my son to show up.
John's Blog


Ms Grumble let out a heavy sigh; at last, the little monsters were going home for the day. She had about had it with their high-pitched voices and their runny noses that they wiped away on their shirtsleeves. Nasty creatures, the lot of them, yelling and screaming the second they passed through the outer doors. Glancing out the window, she noticed that slightly shabby man with a dog again.

The man had become a familiar figure to her, hanging around just when school let out. He always had a dog with him, but it never seemed to be the same dog. What was he up too? He couldn’t be one of the monster’s grandparents; she knew them all on sight. She got closer to the window and craned her neck to see where he was going. Little Liv had run to him and was petting the beast who immediately rolled to her back. Ms Grumble pulled back in horror to see the monsters touching the dog and it appeared they were having a conversation with the man about the dog’s teats, laughing!
Ms Grumble considered calling the principle at first, but then decided she would have to stop this horrific scene, herself. Why, the pervert had no business talking to the brats about something that was obviously sexual! In her haste, she ran into the doorway, almost knocking herself out. Stunned, she groped her way up and fell against the doorway again, as the heel of her shoe had broken off as she sprained her ankle. In a panic, she crawled back to the window to see Liv’s sister, Eve, joining them.
Oh, my! He’s after both of those girls!
“Help me! That pervert has got two of the girls in his clutches!” she cried.
Another teacher came rushing into the room. “What is the matter?”
“That pervert is taking Liv and Eve. Run quick and get help before they are out of sight! Look, there they go.”
The other teacher looked out the window, seeing nothing unusual. “You mean Jason’s babysitter? That’s John ‘the dog,’ obviously picking up the children for a couple of hours. Really, Harriet, you must get a grip on yourself. I think you are letting the kids get to you.”

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