Alexander the Great and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very Bad Day (thing)

(all of Alexander the Great and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good Very Bad Day, no other writeups in this node)

(thing) by LagMan (6.9 y) (print)   ?   (I like it!) Wed Nov 17 1999 at 9:13:02 C! info: 15 C!s given by: dem bones, jasonm, Sylvar, liveforever, Muke, Saige, lara68, oakling, gwenllian, Major General Panic, Tato, dutchess, bewilderbeast, perhapsadingo8yrbaby, Johnny

Alexander the Great and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day in the style of the children's story Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day; written for Honors English 11 last year I left the battle with blood in my helmet and now there's blood in my hair and when I got out of my armor this afternoon I tripped on a dead solder and by mistake I dropped my sword in the catapult while the thing was launching and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day. At dinner Aristotle found a fat juicy rabbit in the tall overgrown grass and Demetrius found a striking young buck in the tall overgrown grass but in my tall overgrown grass all I found was tall overgrown grass. I think I'll move to Carthage. In the march my bodyguard told Homer to have the left flank. Plato and Hephestus were told to take the right flank. I said I was being scrunched. I said I was being smushed. I said if I don't get a place on a flank I am going to be homicidal. No one even saluted. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day. In battle Athena liked the Egyptians' sacrifice of a lamb better than my sacrifice of the invisible cow. At praising time she said I praised too quietly. After I was done praying, she said I left out Zeus. Who needs Zeus? I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day. I could tell because Prometheus said I wasn't his best battle partner anymore. He said that Philip was his best battle partner and Hector was his next best battle partner and that I was only his third best battle partner. I hope you sit on a pike, I said to Prometheus. I hope next time you attack a fun-and-easily-killable blind old man your head part falls off your neck part and lands in Carthage. There were two biscuits in Philip's lunch bag and Perseus got cooked meat with spices and Prometheus's cook gave him a lamb's leg that had been broiled to perfection. Guess whose cook forgot to cook the meat? It was a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day. That's what it was, because after battle my bodyguards took me to the armorer and Corba found a small hole just in mine. Come back next week and I'll fix it, said Corba. Next week, I said, I'm going to Carthage. On the way through the forest the thick brush snapped in my face and while we were waiting for scouts to go get the report, Aristotle made me fall where it was muddy and when I started to swear because of the mud Demetrius said I was a Bronze-ager and while I was beating Demetrius for saying Bronze-ager the scouts came back with the report and laughed at me for being muddy and fighting. I am having a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day, I told everybody. No one even saluted. So then we went to a village to steal some women. Aristotle chose a white one with brown hair, Demetrius chose a sunburned one with blond hair. I wanted a freckled one with red hair, but we couldn't find one. There were none in the village. They made me take a plain old hag with green hair, but they can't make me um...well.. you know.. When we picked up a general at his tent he said I couldn't play with his longbow and arrows, but I forgot. He said to watch out for the maps on his desk, but I was careful as could be except for my sword hand. He also said don't fool around with his carrier pigeon, but I think I sent it to Carthage. The general said please don't pick him up anymore. It was a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day. There was stale bread for dinner and I hate stale bread. There was flogging on the field and I hate flogging. My bath was too cold, I got blood in my eyes, my sword fell in the river, and I had to wear my bronze-age armor. I hate my bronze-age armor. When I went to battle Demetrius took back the flail he said I could keep and the Spartan Warrior (tm) wooden shield snapped apart and I stubbed my toe. The horse wants to sleep with Aristotle, not with me. It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. The general says some days are like that. Even in Carthage. By William Aoki, Chris Condrat, and Ryan Merril-Johnson.

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