Jonathan Hong

Highlight this text -->Oh, wait I realized that there's nothing here. Just Kidding, JOHN CENA!!!!

THE CONFUSING STORY

"Look Out!!!!!!!!" said Michael Garthington Fernando MCVI, as flying chunks of hot inferno descended down into the sea, creating massive explosions of steam. His father, Michael Garthington Fernando MCV, quickly threw himself on the sand as another fiery boulder hurled itself at him, missing him only by a few inches. There was one thing you needed to know about Michael Garthington Fernando MCVI: He didn't feel very special. Same was felt with Michael Garthington Fernando MCV, MCIV, MCIII, MCII, MCI, etc. ( If you want to know, MCVI is roman numerals for 1,106, but you might have already searched that up, right?) There would be times when at Thanksgiving, Michael Garthington Fernando MCIII,( Michael Garthington Fernando MCVI's great grandfather), would be like, "Hey, Michael, pass me the mashed potatoes" and MCVI, MCV, and MCIV would all reach towards the center of the table, willing to give MCIII the mashed potatoes. But you might think that he would feel more special when he found out that the Fernando generation started with Michael Garthington Fernando MCVI. But no. He was more curious than feeling special. But anyway, where were we? Oh, yeah. Michael was almost about to die. But you know who came to the rescue..... JOHN SEANUH!!!!!

BLACKWATERS

153 and counting. Get car 194 on main entrance. Ready the chopper. Pssshhh!!! Roger that, sir. Pssshhh!!! He's heading toward the gate! Pssshhh!!!!! Advancing. Pssshhh!!!!! He's going down corridor 104. Psshhh!!!! Ha! we caught him! That's five decades in jail!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - (cough,cough) Ran out of breath there.

"He may need to move to another jail." "Why?" "Don't 'why' me, you do as I say!" (Fist slams on desk.) "Where?"

" -- -- . Age --. Locked up in Blackwaters. Fifty year sentence." The woman says. She obviously is working for the Police. But let me tell you one thing: The security in this prison is pretty strict. I mean, even the lunch ladies have healthy mustaches. And the food they serve is awful. My cellmates,(1 of them.) are also locked up with me with the sergeant who claims we're here to "learn". In science, we've learned how to make genetically modified viruses. My cellmate nearly died from either yellow fever or smallpox. In English, we learn how to make a "stand up for yourself" speech. It goes something like this: "I have the right to do anything by giving the government a chocolate bar and a Twinkie or else I will shove your faces inside out and post them on Twitter." In social studies we learn about terrorism. And more terrorism. And even more terrorism. And how long does this last? For me, fifty years.

"Listen up, chumps!",The sergeant bellows,"This is not Girl Scouts! If you talk without permission, you will be so severely injured that you will not be talking, moving, or breathing. Your heart will be gone. In other words, you will be dead." "Ha! Yeah, right."Someone says. With a snap of the sergeant's fingers, a trapdoor concealed above the ceiling opened, revealing a 200 pound anvil with tiny spikes glued to the bottom. Without any mercy, the anvil descends, crushing the guy's skull and neck. With a loud shriek, he turns pale as the last drops of blood escape from his body.

Lunchtime. Roast porcupine. Sides: Poison Ivy salad with coagulated ranch. Pure capsaicin. (Look it up.) Drinks: Urine that has been (partially) purified to save water. Pretty enticing, eh? At the end of the lunch line, I was given a shovel, an axe, and a trident to eat my food. Shovel as the spoon. Axe as the knife. Trident as the fork. I was pretty surprised that there hadn't been a riot or an assault during lunch. But then I saw this guy who ate is porcupine whole. Spines and everything. Swallowed. To my surprise, the whole lunchroom was perfectly silent. I guess that the "accident" spread word really fast. And the fact that if you talked, you would pretty much die. Unless you were the most obedient, the smartest, the strongest, and the best looking. Then people would get a chance to marvel at your perfectness. And then you would die twenty minutes later.

Gym. Gym is the best because all you have to do is 46,012 push ups a day. And then you have train really hard. And then you have to challenge Goku and totally beat the crud out of him. And believe me, this is the least deadliest class here. Unless you die from "Kamehameha". But that is unlikely. "Get down and give me 46,012!!!" Mr. Dethand Ashiz says. "Why?" Someone asks. "Because you need to learn how to bash Goku's brains into absolute nothingness." Coach replies. No one said anything after that. We all knew that this prison could boil someone alive. In the person's own blood. And then get eaten. By piranhas.

THE ESCAPE

I wake up at 4:43 in the morning. It has nearly been ten days. 10 out of 18,250. I am determined to escape. But I will need a bit of help. And after I get dressed.

My cellmate is already awake. He agrees with my suggestion.

Gym. I see that the door to Mr. Dethand Ashiz's office is open. I am grateful for that. 8:43. Class starts. We play baseball. With a machete. I purposely hit the ball into Mr. Dethand Ashis'z office. "Oops. I'll get that." and I quickly rush into his office. I scan my surroundings. Cabinet there, files there, and equipment there. But something caught my eye. A map of the whole prison. "Hurry up in there!!!!" "I know but it's so hard to find. No, wait, no. Over here." I said, even though the ball was already in my hand. I quickly grab the map from his desk and replace it with a random file so he doesn't know right away. I fold up the map and place it in my pocket.

English. I spot the lost and found bin inside the sergeant's office. 9:20. Class is nearly started. Before the class starts, I give my book to another prisoner. Right before the sergeant starts speaking, I ask him if I can check the lost and found because I lost my book. He nods his head. I go inside while the sergeant is distracted "teaching" the prisoners. I look around. Doesn't seem like their is anything useful. I trifle through files, cabinets, and folders. Nothing. Soon this will look suspicious, I thought. "Excuse me, are you done in there!?!?!?" "No, sir. I still can't find it." But then, I saw a coil dangling on a hook. I nabbed it and went out of the office. When I came back I took my book back from the prisoner and acted like nothing happened.

Math. "I have a math problem for you ma'am', I say. "Do you trust me?" "Number One. That is not a math problem. Number two. No." "Well, can I at least get a copy of last night's worksheet? A bunch of guys beat me up and ripped it up." The sergeant eyes me suspiciously. What she doesn't know is that I have the worksheet in my binder concealed by blank pieces of paper. "Fine." The sergeant says reluctantly. "They're in my office. You should be able to find it easily." "Thank you, ma'am." I enter the room. This sergeant's office must have been used as a bomb shelter. Cracked pipes, humming machinery, and a smoky smell in the air. I searched the room. I found a fire extinguisher on the wall, but of course, it was tied tight against the wall using chains. Serrated chains. Electrified chains. Still nothing. There didn't seem to be anything useful in the room, but then again, it was a math office. "COME BACK FROM MY OFFICE, ALREADY!!!!!!" "Yes ma'am." At the end of class, I had nothing new in my pockets.

I wake up on my sixteenth day here. It is 4:57, which is good because you are not allowed to stay up later than 5:00. If you do, they slice off your thumb. Slowly. I wake up and get dressed to find my dazzling breakfast sitting on the gold counter, luring me to sit down. Lots of bacon. Lots of orange juice. Lots of waffles soaked in delicious maple syrup. Yeah, not really. More like this: Delicious Escamoles with volcanic ash! (Replacement of black pepper.)MM- MM ! Delish! Plus! Awesome Corn Smut! Yeah. It really is that disgusting. As I ate,(Or pretended to) I thought about my escape plan. Was there any possible route out of this place? And if there was, was it unguarded? For a split second, I wondered if I was doing this for nothing. As if on cue, my cellmate whispers, "There's a key in the generator room. The room is guarded by cameras from the inside and four guards on the outside. From there, there is another key contained inside a safe. It will lead us outside. Meet me there tomorrow during free period. And whatever you do...." "Don't tell anyone."

Shower Period. 8:50 pm. This is probably the most relaxing part of the day, despite the fact that the water used in the showers are also filtered urine. When you shower, a tiny stream of freezing cold liquid pours out of the nozzle and you get ten minutes before lights go out and the water stops running. That signals the start of bedtime. And again, whatever you call a bed at home, then you have no idea what it's like to sleep in prison. But then again, it really doesn't matter because you are nearly dead by the time you make it to bedtime. If not, you ARE dead.

Bedtime. 9:00 pm. Your bed here is basically a cot that has been used over a century by outlaws that probably barfed over horrible food. Or worse. The beds here are also one of the lumpiest as well as the itchiest, partially due to that it is made out of straw. It doesn't matter. I'm out before I even onto my bed. Which means I slept on the floor, which is, believe it or not, more comfortable than the bed itself.

I wake up. It is 5:04. Dang! I must have overslept! I hear Sergeant Major Kennedy's voice down the corridor. One of the sergeants opens the door for him. "Ah! Looks like you overslept. Don't worry, the surgeon will be over here very quickly. I'm sure the piranhas will enjoy your thumb very much." I tucked that information away. Piranhas in the lake. And the lake surrounds the prison. That would make it much harder to escape. Before I knew what I was doing, I took off in a random direction. The guards opened fire. Bullets ricocheted off of walls and pipes, showering me in sparks. The alarms started ringing. Falling projectiles were showering the terrain. I must have ran in a full circle because the next thing I new, I was back at my cell. I saw a guard gaining on me from behind. In front of me, I spotted a door with a "DANGER" sign on it and decided to use it to my advantage. Just before he could get a hand on me, I jumped at the wall to my right and swung open the door. The guard didn't react quick enough. He was already on the edge of the threshold, windmilling his arms. A few seconds later, he plunged down in to the abyss below. I expected a metallic BANG!, but instead I heard a splash. I looked down to see that it was the lake. A few moments later, a red cloud mushroomed to the surface of the water below.

More bullets crashed around me. Wood splinters and scrap metal bounced off the walls and floor. I was surprised I hadn't been hit yet. It seriously looked like the prison was going to destroy itself. As another barrage of projectiles sailed toward me, a pipe whacked me in the head. I crashed down on the stone floor below and hoped nothing was broken. I picked myself up from the ground feeling a bump on the back of my head. The rest of the guards were still in hot pursuit of me. Just before the guards went around the corner, I concealed myself in a closet. Fortunately, the guards didn't consider the closet as a hiding place, so they rushed past with their guns loaded. I managed to find a vent, but it was bolted down tight. I looked around the room, trying to find what could break it when I found a shovel dug into the ground. I tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. I then tried to pry it out and the whole room started to shake.

I started falling down fast into what seemed like nothing. My whole body felt like it was floating, rather than falling down. The feeling lingered for a few minutes, and then the world seemed to start spinning. Spots were appearing in front of my eyes. After that, everything went black.

2nd marking period I woke up to the sound of evil laughter and mumbling. Sergeant Major Kennedy was speaking again. "Ah, it appears you have awoken. What merely happened, is, you  fell  asleep. Heh. Heh. You seem to have fallen down an old elevator shaft from which the previous owner had installed. It is quite amusing, honestly, to see that you are trying to escape this prison. But honestly, do you actually think you can escape? Ha! Rhetorical question. But you have caused quite a bit of trouble around here, you know? I mean, look at all of those other prisoners, slaving away to do work for us! Such nice people. But that is why I have brought one of my colleagues, to finish you off once and for all. WWE champion! Professional American wrestler,  JOHN STAMOS!!!!!!  Wait a second, no,  JOHN CENA!!!!!!!!" All of sudden, John Cena busts through the metal door, huffing and puffing. "FUS RO DAH!!!" He jumps up and slams down on the chair that I am tied to. His two fists come crashing down, somersaulting me through the air. I then crashed onto the ground on my back. The wooden chair was broken and now everything except my arms were free. I ran down the hallway, turning left and right, until I came to a stop. We were on top of a dam. The rushing water was pounding at my ears. I expected for someone to come and capture me again, but no one did. I carefully crossed the dam. That is, until I heard the helicopter.

Sergeant Major Kennedy lowered the window and peered at the boy who was just standing on the dam. He lowered the window all the way and lifted his RPG. He took aim. Uh-oh. 3 guards came from both sides of the dam. I was surrounded unless I wanted to jump backwards, which would cause a mouthful of cement. I didn't know what I was thinking. I jumped into the direction of the helicopter, which caused the 6 guards to open fire, but accidentally hitting the helicopter instead. The sound of bullets hitting metal filled the air as the helicopter was being strafed by shots. It was only fo half a second, but something ruptured inside the helicopter's gas tank. The helicopter went up in flames and started to crash down while I was being swept away by the strong current of the dam. As a last resort, Kennedy decided to fire his grenade laucher, accidentally hitting all of the guards instead. It crashed into them, sending them flying into the air, while the helicopter crashed down and created a giant fireball, which broke the dam's concrete, resulting in me being swept by the current with falling chunks of cement splashing into the water. Chaos struck. More guards appeared, shooting rapidly, stitching the water with bullets. But, I had already gotten my hands on a big cement piece to use as a shield. It worked pretty good at first, but soon it started to crack. A few seconds later, I felt the impact force of a tiny punch while the cement block was broken into tiny chunks.

I woke up, not knowing where I was. I could make out the shape of a large building in front of me. I then started to be able to make out the letters engraved on the front of the building, G-R-E-E-N-M-E-A-D-O-W-S. Still in Progress...

THE ESSAY GRADING TEACHER 2.0  (This story is based off of "The Essay Grading Teacher" on Milan's wiki, so if you want to read the first version, you know where to go.) (Another Disclaimer: This story is not meant to be taken seriously.)

Her eyes were bloodshot. It was only 4th period, but for the past 19 hours Ms. Steinen had been grading our space settlement essays that we completed earlier this year. And if you want to know, that's over 100 essays that she has to grade. So the next thing you know, she had fallen into a deep sleep beside her computer.

When she woke again, she was ready to teach. "Alright kids, time for a grammar- where did everybody go?" With a puzzled look on her face, she peered into the hallway. No one was in the there. Probably their lunch period, she thought. Little did she know that it was 1:07 IN THE MORNING. Even the janitors who stay in school to mop up messes were already at home sleeping. When she returned to her laptop to continue her grading, she realized that there was only 15 more essays to grade. Finally, she thought. But what she didn't know was that she had accidentally been grading essays for the FOURTH GRADE and that she still had 97 more space essays to grade. So, lets turn our attention to the fourth graders.

Alright, 15 more essays I need to grade, thought the fourth grade teacher. But to her surprise, they were already done! Knowing that she had some leisure time on her hands, she decided to go downstairs and grab herself a daily super-quadruple-layered-chocolate-vanilla-strawberry-cheese cake. Plus, 6 bags of pretzels, 17 bags of Nacho Cheese Doritos, 5 packs of Skittles, 3 boxes of luxury Belgian chocolates, and 8 packs of Oreos. Not like that was unhealthy or anything. So while she sat down eating her morsel, the students started filing in, anxious to see what they got for their first essay ever. Finally, their essays were being passed back. One was happy to receive a 3, Four were not happy to see a 2, but fifteen of them were utterly disappointed to see that they had gotten a 1. Wait, sorry, that information is not entirely correct. FOURTEEN were utterly disappointed that they had gotten a 1, but one other student, a foreign exchange student, had accidentally wrote his entire essay in a dialect of Hindi, so therefore, he had gotten a 0. Because of this, the fourth graders left school feeling glum about their grades.

Ms. Steinen returned to school the next day ready to give her lectures to those 15 individuals who had gotten a 1 or the 0. She was very disappointed that someone would pull off a joke to write the whole thing in Hindi. "Listen up guys, whoever wrote the essay in Hindi will have lunch detention with me. Also, I expected more from those 15 certain people, she said while standing up from her chair. "Let me just say tha-" I don't blame her. She was deprived of sleep. She started snoring, and then sat back down in her chair and accidentally hit her head on BACKSPACE, which deleted all of her unsaved progress of grading essays. Which was 14 essays, by the way.

She woke up feeling refreshed but her mind was not sharp due to deprivation of sleep. She quickly graded and submitted 14 essays that she thought she had done the night before. But..... what she didn't know was that she had accidentally e-mailed the fourth grade teacher's personal information (Don't ask me how she knows that.) to the exact 15 fourth graders who did poorly on the essay. Included in this information was the teacher's address.... so, yeah. The next thing you know, all fifteen fourth graders were lined up in a row, each with their own dozen of eggs, ready to hurl them at her house. Seconds later, 180 eggs were pelting on the house, damaging the window and doors. "What is this nonsense?!" yelled the teacher, stepping out of the doorway, and then getting barraged by several eggs. She grabbed her phone and began calling the cops, as a yolk dripped off her nose. But her phone was suddenly blasted away from her grip, probably due to an egg.

"Arrghh!!! Will you stop throwing eggs at my house??!!", she said just as another one hit her squarely in the forehead. "I swear, if you throw another egg, I will call the cops." No one moved a muscle. But just as she turned her back, four more eggs splatted her back and...... She  WENT JOHN CEENUH!!! I mean, John Cena, of course. But if you have read this far in my wiki, you probably should've expected that.Then she let out such a ferocious scream that the windows of her car shattered and set of the car alarm. But the kids seemed to be okay. Until they smelled her breath, which then they passed out.

The 15 kids finally snapped out of their unconsciousness, feeling grumpy that a 55 year-old woman had breathed on them with horrible smelling breath. But they weren't done.. yet. They quickly ran to Jared's house, and he, being a tech geek, located Mrs. McBellerbee's (The teacher) information, which included her info on when she last used her credit card, her age, etc. Still in Progress.....

GREENMEADOWS (Continuation of BLACKWATERS) Marking period 3 (Some Content from this Marking Period may be in earlier entries.)

So I'm sitting here having a good laugh in my SupaPlush self-massage couch at my cousin, who apparently, got locked up in Blackwaters, the sister organization of this prison, Greenmeadows. He managed to get into that prison by doing something extremely bad, which I will not explain. But while that happened, I got stuck in this prison for donating money to charity. Like, what the heck?! I mean, don't get me wrong. It's a pretty nice place, considering that it is a prison. But still, is it right for someone to be sent to a prison nonetheless, especially if they did something beneficial? Despite the nice couch, 50 inch plasma TV, a king size bed, and good food, it's still a giant, super-nice, comfy, cozy prison that's under 24/7 surveillance, which to me is pretty bogus. I mean, what are we even going to do? Be all like to a guard, 'Hey, since I'm like super nice to you, I'm just going to escape here and I'm going to pay you 20 bucks to pretend that nothing ever happened.' Yeah, not going to happen.

Lunchtime. The food here is actually pretty good. You don't just pick up a tray and walk into a line and say, 'Chicken Fingers please'. Believe me, it's much more swanky. You sit down, and then there is a MENU. Like, seriously, how many prisons offer you a menu when you eat? My calculations say, oh, about 0. And then a waiter comes over and you order your food, and he says, 'It'll be ready in 15 minutes' and then winks like those cheesy people do on those cheesy commercials on those cheesy box-like TVs. And then he comes back in precisely 15 minutes and 55 seconds and he says, 'Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry about that: I didn't make it in the correct time. Would you like a free dessert?' And then you're all like, 'Don't mind if I do!' and kick back and cross your legs like you own a souped-up casino in California.

So I get back into my room (You can do school activities if you want to. I know you're jealous.) and then you can do whatever you want to like you're the host of this place, which you're not. So I, again, flop onto my SupaPlush self-massage couch and start watching TV. And then I read for a few hours and then it's time for dinner.

Dinner. Again, super swanky place with super dumb(and swanky) waiters and a super swanky saxophone and piano duet playing in the background. In fact, this place is so swanky, the menu CHANGES from breakfast to lunch and then from lunch to dinner. And so I was just about to order when..... a special SOMEONE popped their head through the door....... My brother. Now you're probably thinking, "dundunduuuuuuun". Wrong. He was an unpleasant sight to see. He had a hole in his shirt near his chest, and was thoroughly soaked. He looked like he'd jumped into water while a whole dam was broken into a trillion pieces and then was washed up on the shore. As he made his way in to the room, I realized that he wasn't alone. There was someone else behind him, pinning his arms to his back. I think his name is  JOHN KASICH! Wait, nevermind. Oops. JOHN CENA!!!! (John Cena theme song plays in the background by the swanky saxophone and piano duet.) But nothing destructive happened.(Thank goodness), and my brother and John Cena casually strolled down the hall.

After I had eaten, I quickly observed the hall in which John Cena and my brother had went through, to see what was going on. I looked around the nearby hallways, but there were no traces of them anywhere. No muddy footprints, nothing knocked down, and most confusing of all, no putrid gasses. (My brother claims he emits mustard gas every time he eats mustard then lets it out.) I continued down the hallway, scanning left and right, but nothing was out of order, and everything seemed like my brother had NOT walked in here. A janitor was located farther up the hallway, and I ran up there, asking him if he had seen a muscular man and an extremely good looking slave. He shook is head. "Listen whippersnapper, we don't have no SLAVES here. The organization says that you are merely enclosed in a particularly nice... uh.. um... uh... ok. You win." After that conversation, I decided that I should get some shut-eye time and worry about it tomorrow.

I wake up at 12:46 PM. Don't worry, no one is going to chop my thumb off because I woke up at noon. Oh, who am I kidding? You could sleep THROUGH 12:46 PM today and sleep through ANOTHER 12:46 PM the next day, and still be fine. I started to go get some lunch, and soon enough, the sound of friends laughing and chatting filled the air of the cafeteria. Oh, wait, sorry. Cour de Nourriture de Fantaisie. That means "Fancy Food Court" in French. As I was walking through the large wave of people, I spotted someone very familiar. IT WAS  JAWN SINA!!! Wait,  JOHN CENA!!!! You probably expected that already. After I sat down across from him with my food, I immediately got ready to shoot him questions. But before I could get a single word out of my mouth, he stood up and walked away.

1:00 AM Sharp. I decide to wake up extra early today to go see what was happening with John Cena and my brother. I slip into my darkest clothes, (Which, unfortunately, is an arylide yellow shirt and tan khakis.) My least noisiest shoes, and a tool used to defend myself with. (Which just happens to be a stick of deodorant.) I step out onto the cold floor, thinking about how great it would be to still be in bed. Luckily for me, I already knew where the escape hatch was. But when I reached the area where hatch was, I knew it was going to be difficult sneaking out. The hatch was located on a ceiling behind a guard. Well, a sleeping guard, but that hatch looked like the creakiest thing ever. Plus, it was so rickety that it looked like it was  just  supporting itself from gravity. I slipped past the guard, thinking to myself,  this can't be that hard. And with that, I set out to escape. (Temporarily.) I opened the hatch eeevvvvveeerrrr so slightly, making a creak that sounded like rubbing your fingers on styrofoam. I stood as still as possible. I was pretty sure that I heard the guard's disturbed snore.

4th Marking Period Starts Here

As I tried to slip through the extremely creaky hatch, the guard shifted around in his chair. This was extremely nerve racking, because it seemed like he was going to wake up any moment. Shimmying my way through the small space of the hatch, I finally made it through. I stepped outside, and I inhaled a lungful of cool, night air. It felt refreshing to be outside for once. Making my way down a rocky path nearby Greenmeadows, I realized that I probably should've brought a coat along with me. It had only been five minutes, and my teeth had already started chattering. Maybe I should go back inside and get a sweatshirt or something, I thought. But I rejected my own idea. There was no way I was crawling through that creaky hatch again, not to mention TWICE. (Once back in, and another to come back out.) So I decided just to last through the cold temperatures. Ok, maybe I was going crazy, or I was having a migraine, or my mind was numbing from the cold, because suddenly, I saw a black cloaked figure appear in the distance. I decided to shake it from my mind, and keep on walking. Footsteps, other than mine, were suddenly heard pounding on gravel behind me. I turned around to see who it was. When I saw that someone was pursuing me, I raised my stick of deodorant. (The weapon that strikes fear into the hearts of gallant warriors.) I closed my eyes and spun around in circles, swinging amok. When I finally tired myself out, I looked around. The pursuer wasn't anywhere around.

I Hate This Car

Imagine yourself sitting in a car. Now imagine yourself sitting in a car with a flat tire. You'd probably be pretty annoyed that somewhere down the road, your tire got punctured or busted. Now, night falls upon you, and you decide to call a company that could tow away your car with the flat tire. You look to your right, and one single car sits in a parking lot next to a tall, brick building with no lights on. It seems peculiar to you. Suddenly, your GPS has a large red question mark on its screen. It doesn't know where you are. You wonder how long the tow truck will take to get here. A minute passes by, then ten minutes, then thirty minutes, and then one hour. Do you:

1.  Call the tow truck company to see what is going on. If so, go to 4. if not, then go to 2.

2.  Do you investigate the strange car? Go to 3. If not, go to 5.

3. You start walking down a trail that leads right to the building. The gravel under your feet crunches as you take each step. It is 45 degrees out tonight, but to you it feels like 10 degrees. Once you reach the car, you investigate. It doesn't seem very suspicious on the outside. But then you see the building. Do you go back to your car? Go to 6. If not, keep on reading. Your gut thinks you should get back to your car. But, curiosity has grasped tight onto you, dragging you farther and farther away from your car. As you are approaching the building, you see a large, stooped man with a shaggy beard. He may provide you with some information, but, then again, he may not. In fact, he could maybe be a figure of suspicion. Do you approach the man and ask questions? Go to 7. If you want to continue investigating the building, go to 8.

4. Ok, so you decide to take the safe route and just go old school. Just call the company. You are insanely creeped out by that car, and you just want to go home with your family, have a nice dinner, and go to sleep. That's fine. So you try to call the company, but they won't pick up. You were hoping it wouldn't come to this, but you are considering ditching your car and riding a bike all the way back home. After all, your daughter's bike is still in the trunk after a camping trip with your wife and children. Do you ride a bike all the way back home? Go to 9. If you want to try a different way to contact the company, go to 10.

5. You think you should call your family to tell them you're alright, and that you would be a little late. As you type in letters and numbers and emojis, you realize that your phone has 14% battery left. You curse under your breath because you knew you should have charged it before you left. So you type in your last sentence, and press a small, blue button in the corner of your screen that says "SEND". After that, you realize that your GPS is still doesn't know where you are. Do you camp out for the night in your car? Go to 11. If you want to try to find out where you are using your phone, go to 12.

6. Ok, you just couldn't do it. There was no WAY you were going down there. Your teeth are already chattering, and not just because of the cold air. As you make your way back up the gravel trail, you see that your car isn't there anymore. Do you try to find your car? Go to 13. Or do you decide to just live in the woods for the day? If so, go to 14.

7. You approach the man and shake his hand. He seems pretty nice. His hair is long and is braided and his beard looks like it could've been a home for a family of mice. You ask him if the car in the parking lot is his. He responds with a "yes, it is moin" (He has a very strong British accent.) You ask him what he is doing here at this time of night. He responds with, "Oi am waiting for somebody." You ask "Who?" He replies, "Thawt's (That's) Clawsifoid (Classified)."

Backwards Time (Interesting Concept, I guess)

Prologue:

A note from Ken Fly

June 15, 1971

Dear Forward Time Dwelling Being,

NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, be a Backward Timer. It is much too confusing and frightening for a former Forward Timer. You see, as a child, I had been a Forward Timer, but I had wanted to build a time machine. I had ambition and determination. So, when I was fourteen years old, I had successfully built myself a time machine. Or so I thought. The time machine had malfunctioned, making me continuously travel back in time, instead of traveling back in time at a fixed point. So I might as well call myself a Backward Timer. Being a Backward Timer is very confusing and maybe even frightening. The past of a Backward Timer is the future of a Forward Timer. And vice versa. In fact, I sent you this message before I even wrote it. I feel the nourishment of my food before I eat it. My teeth are clean before I brush them. But, I have been a Backward Timer for a long enough time to bend it, almost. I don't have to do exactly what I did in the future, or the Forward Timer past. It took me four years to master this, though. With this information, I will tell you the story of my past.

Chapter 1

June 15, 2000

I just wanted to tell you something. It seems like the kids at my school are acting up lately. It's like they can't even think at all. Like zombified, almost. All of us went down to the auditorium yesterday to watch an old documentary about an old dude lecturing us about how important it is to brush and floss your teeth every day. And then after that, the changes began almost immediately.

June 16, 2000

Oh my, I can't even sleep at night thinking about what happened today. I started to see something, something horrible. I saw myself, right now, but not right now. In the future, but in the past at the same time. Reliving my past in the future.

June 17, 2000

Wow, even the teachers seem to be affected, too. This morning, two kids were roughhousing in mud RIGHT IN FRONT OF MR. SOOPATUFF and he didn't even do anything about it. Normally, he wouldn't even let a spider crawl two steps in his classroom without getting it killed. And he had an extra cup of coffee this morning, so all his excuses go out the window. But here's the funny thing. The principal, MR. SOOPADUPATUFF, WATCHED Mr. Soopatuff WATCH the two kids wrestle and Mr. Soopadupatuff didn't do anything about it. And here's the funniest thing. The superintendent, MR. INEEMIME OMMA (Worst name ever.) WATCHED Mr. Soopadupatuff WATCH Mr. Soopatuff WATCH two kids wrestle and didn't do anything about it.

June 18, 2000

This is too much for me to handle, I've seen too much, so I have a solution. I just built myself a time machine. Time  to go to the past.

June 17, 2000

June 16, 2000

Oh my, I can't even sleep at night thinking about what happened today. I started to see something, something horrible. I saw myself, right now, but not right now. In the future, but in the past at the same time. Reliving my past in the future.

June 14, 2000

I just wanted to tell you something. It seems like the kids at my school are acting up lately. It's like they can't even think at all. Like zombified, almost. All of us went down to the auditorium  today  to watch an old documentary about an old dude lecturing us about how important it is to brush and floss your teeth every day. And then after that, the changes began almost immediately.

June 13, 2000

I am cackling in my lair like a mad scientist, inserting the hypnotic clip into an old documentary about dental hygiene that we will watch yesterday. If you play it backwards it says,  You will be mind controlled by Ken Fly.

August 23, 2004

“I Am From” Poem

I am from chopsticks, Made from the tough stalk of bamboo. And its clink sound it makes when you rest them On a porcelain bowl. I am from the growling of cars Outside my window I am from the sounds of chirps of the birds at day, And the chorus of crickets at night.

I am from William and Justin. I am from my parents saying, “Early to Bed, Early to Rise” When I didn’t want to go to bed. “It’s way too early” I would say, Although it was 9:30 PM.

I am from shredded potatoes and dumplings, Steaming hot and ready on the table. I am from rice porridge and egg cakes, From tofu and noodles, From bean curd and pork, Its savory flavor lingering on my taste buds.