Donald Benson
Here is a story written by David Hansen in the 9th Grade.

Donald Benson is my name. I am a 35-year-old businessman. I am an Importer/Exporter. I like to punch people I meet on the street. I have a big business problem. My problem is this: I am currently importing bones from mummies in Egypt. I am exporting ancient Egyptian spell books to Japan, which they use to make quality products. I have a feeling that the mummies will get angry, and come to attack me. For help on the situation, I went to my attractive 22-year-old secretary, Helen. She was not the brightest crayon in the box, so she was just staring blankly at the wall of the waiting room. I was repeatedly saying her name, but she didn’t respond, so naturally I punched her in the back of the head. “WOWEE that hurt! Wuz up Mr. B.? Get out my grill son, before I bust yo cap, foo!” she said. “Shut up.” I replied. “I have a problem, and I need your help, NOW!”

I explained to her my problem several times, but she just sat there and drooled. I then tried explaining it in her “Slang” language, and she finally said, “I thunk I got a square light bulb, G-Dog!” “Shut up.” I said, and then I punched her left kneecap. “Astonishing, it appear I boast faultless syntax at the present!” she said. “Well, here is my proposal: we obtain all of my gangsta’ homes to come at this juncture and protect you from the mummies!” she said. I told her I liked the idea, so I sent her out on the streets to assemble her many friends.

Feeling a great deal of relief, I went back into my office and ate a large bag of potato chips. Yogurt flavored was my favorite. I looked out my window, (This is where the original story ended, and finished on March 17th, 2004, on St. Patrick’s Day) and saw Helen waddling down the busy streets, grunting for some odd reason. She didn’t make it more than 10 seconds out side the skyscraper without getting hit by a taxicab. The driver stuck his head out of the window, and yelled “Watch where ya’s goin’, ya dim-witted broad!” and then floored it. He ran her over even more, and it was evident that she wasn’t going to get up. I would have to take on the mummies on my own.

The first thing I did was call security, and tell them to look out for any suspicious people wearing ancient Egyptian jewelry, almost decomposed beyond recognition, and was covered in bandages. They said that about 300 of them had already gone by, and they didn’t do anything about it because they were on their lunch break. “You FOOLS! You have no idea what you have done!” I screamed, and hung up the phone. Sure enough, about ten minutes later, all 300 mummies made it up to my office. I was finished. Just as they got near me, I realized the my friend Dracula owed me a favor, so I called him up, told him my situation, and he miraculously appeared right next to me. He started fighting all the mummies, but he obviously over estimated himself. He killed maybe two or three mummies before they tore him to shreds. My only choice was to jump out the window of my office. I threw all of my body weight at the thick glass, and launched myself outside. Luckily my office was on the first floor, so I just landed on my feet and walked away. The mummies were afraid of getting cut on the remaining shards of glass left in the window frame, so they didn’t follow me. I walked slowly to my safety. To this very day, the mummies still haven’t tracked me down. I ended up exporting the spell book to Japan, which I later learned they accidentally destroyed with some kind of nuclear bomb or something, but I forget the details.

THE END
*Note that some parts of the story were changed slightly for the better. Only the creator may look at the originals.