Soaping with myself again.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:17pm
Thread Topic: Soaping with myself again.
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Hmmm. I need an Idea.
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I KNOW. I'll soap with Ozz and his band mates, 'Cuz that's always fun. and in a Technical soap.
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So... I might as well start from when they formed the band...
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Hmm. MAybe I'll explain Ozz, Geez, Keith, and Tommy first. YEAH THATLL WORK.
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So, here goes nuthin.
Name: John "Ozzy" Michaels.
Age: 20, now.
Hair: Blonde with his almost black 70's sideburns. XD
Eyes: Blue.
Name: Keith Stann
Age: 21, now.
Hair: Black, long and curlyish.
Eyes: Hazel.
Name: Tommy "Ace" Butler
Age: 22, now.
Hair: Kinda like Geezer Butlers. With a handle bar 'stache (like Ron Bushy's)
Eyes: Brown
Name: Terence "Geezer" Williams
Age: 20, now.
Hair: Exactly like Tommy's, only short. With a George Harrison-ish 'stache. -
I'll make it take place back in time, but have the same story! GENIUS. xD
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Well, nevermind.
Friday, February 13th, 1999
I was sitting at a table at school, staring at the clock. Tick, Tick, Tick. Just staring off into space. -
C'mon, go faster... Just an hour more to go. A voice startled me out of my spaced out state.
"JOHN WILLIAM MICHAELS!" Screamed Ms. Birch. "DON'T YOU EVER PAY ATTENTION?!" -
I glanced up at her. Her make-up and hair made her look like she was the spawn of Satan. Which she probably was.
She glared at me, and went back to writing on the chalk board. I raised my hand and shook it violently.
She whipped around, and called on me. "What?" -
"Um, What's up with your make-up? Were you hungover when you put it on?" I grinned. Everyone snickered quietly. Of course, that got me a slap with a ruler.
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My arm had a few marks from when I got hit before, but, I guess I was used to it. Ms. Birch pulled me up by the back up my collar, and brought me to the front of the room.
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She had written some math problem thing on the board. I blankly looked at her. Her deep blue eyes had a creepy shine.
"Solve it." She snarled in a teahcer voice.
"Uhm," I swallowed. "What?"
"You heard me. Solve. It."
My eyes skimmed over the problem, but I didn't get it. Ms. Birch always did that to me. She picked the most difficult things for me to do, and then I couldn't do it. -
"I... I can't do it." I muttered. Some smart-ass kid in the class, Tommy Butler, snickered. He knew everything. No one knew why he was in our school, though. He should have been in the highschool, not the middle school But, whatever. He was still a smart-ass.
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"What are you gonna do now, John?" Ms. Birch asked.
"Um. Sit back down?" I asked nervously.
"Wrong," My jaw clenched. "You're going to walk yourself on down to Mr. Jones class."
I glanced at the clock. Yes, it was my last class of the day- But it was the worst class too. -
Ms. Birch shifted her focus to the class. She pointed to the door.
"Dismissed."
The class fled out the door in a rush to get to their next class. I tried to escape with them, but Tommy grabbed my shirt collar. He was, like, 5'11 and I was 5'6. Who wins that battle?! He spun me around and glared at me. "So Mr. Stupid gets away with his jokes, eh? I'll show you a joke." And his fist goes into my face, and I drop to the floor.
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