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In order to revive this thread without putting any effort into writing, I present to you a nonsensical piece written in sixth grade.
John and the Flying Pizza Slice
Times were hard for the people of Venice, Italy, and it was no different for John and his frail mother. One day, John’s mother sat down on the couch with a depressed sort of look on her face and told John that they must sell their TV in order to keep up with the expenses and lack of income.
John understood that it was necessary to give up wants in these times, and he offered to take the television set downtown for her and see how many Euros he could get for it. So John went on his way downtown, lugging the television set in his little red wagon.
Along the way a man wearing a brown coat and a matching hat greeted him as he passed. He asked where he was bringing the old television. John told him he was bringing it downtown to sell.
“Well, at the most you’ll get what, seventy, eighty euros for that old thing? What do you say to trading it for this magical pizza dough? Just bake it and in the morning you’ll have a pizza slice the size of a large door.”
Now John hadn’t planned on agreeing to this ridiculous offer, but his stomach growled and he thought of what it would be like to have a giant slice of pizza for breakfast. He licked his lips and handed over the television set, anxious for the next day.
When John opened the front door, his mom came rushing to find out how much he had gotten. When John showed her the pizza dough, however, she exclaimed, “Oh no, John. I cannot believe you got conned into such a deal. Now up to bed! And no supper for you young man!”
John dejectedly trudged upstairs with his head hung low. He dragged himself into bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing that he hadn’t disappointed his mother so. He could hear distant sighs from the kitchen, and eventually he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
John awoke as his mother came into the room. He turned over and hid his face in the pillow, afraid that his mother might realize he was awake. He waited until he heard his mother closed the door, and waited another few minutes just to be sure that his mother was in her room. When he was sure that it was safe, John crept out to the hall and down the stairs.
John glanced around the kitchen, searching for any sign of the pizza dough. He noticed a trail of flour leading up to the cupboard, and he followed it.
There it was, in the cupboard, the pizza dough. John carefully lifted it out of the basket and slipped it into the oven. He turned the oven on high and went back upstairs to bed.
The next morning John woke up at the crack of dawn. He sprinted down the stairs to find an average sized pizza slice on the kitchen counter. John sighed with disappointment, and glumly sat down on a kitchen chair.
Then an amazing thing happened. Right before his eyes, the pizza slice grew bigger and bigger. In a few seconds it was the size of his head, and in half a minute it was as big as a microwave. John yelled for his mother.
“What? What is it?” she asked as she came running down the stairs. John grinned as his mother’s jaw dropped at the enlarging pizza slice.
John’s mom yelled for him to quickly take it outside. John obeyed and took the expanding pizza in his arms. He sprinted out to the middle part of the yard and placed it down on the soft grass. By then it was at least the size of a refrigerator. John gawked at the pizza slice, but still wasn’t sure what good it would be.
When the slice stopped getting larger at about the size of two doors put together, John thought to himself, Well, I might as well eat it, and he reached down to tear off a piece.
As John’s fingers brushed against the warm, fluffy crust, a peculiar thing happened. The pizza seemed to leap off the ground for a split second, as if it were sprouting legs. John peeked under the pizza, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. So, he grabbed at the crust once more.
This time the pizza took off like a rocket, stopping and hovering ten feet in the air. John was left hanging onto the fluffy crust for dear life, and he prayed that the weight of a nine-year old boy would not cause the soft crust to break off.
As the pizza sat in the air ten feet above the yard, John’s grip began to weaken. He knew that he had two choices, get on top of the pizza or fall to the ground.
John desperately tried to pull himself up, but all he managed was causing as light tear in the area between the crust and the rest of the pizza. John closed his eyes and mustered up all his strength before giving it another try.
He swung up just enough to get his leg onto the the giant pizza slice. John pulled himself the rest of the way up and collapsed on the pizza, gasping for breath.
How do I control this thing? John thought to himself. Uh, forward! He thought as hard as he could. The slice of pizza didn’t budge. John looked down to see his mom come rushing out of the house, yelling for him to get down this instant.
John explained that he wasn’t exactly in control. With his mother screaming in the background, John stood up on the giant pizza slice. His mother just about blew her head off she screamed so hard. John got his balance and leaned forward. The pizza slice nudged forward a few feet. John leaned harder, and the pizza shot forward like a bullet. John fell backwards with his elbows leaning against the fluffy dough of the crust, and he laughed. He was having a blast.
John got the slice of pizza to go upward, and he laughed with joy as the wind blew in his face. John flew higher and higher, until he saw a strange cloud in the distance. As he drew nearer, John could see that the cloud had a house sitting on top of it, and John went to explore.
John flew over the cloud, and landed by bending his knees. John stepped off the huge pizza, and ran closer to the house. It was only about ten feet high, and not nearly as wide as you would expect a house to be. Curious, John knocked on the door.
Angry grumbling came from inside. It sounded like a man, but the voice was much higher and squeakier, like a really small man.
John found out he was right, as a tiny man with pointy ears and a tall, golden hat answered the door.
John greeted him and asked if he could come inside. The elf kindly lead John inside to the living room and told him to have a seat on the couch.
The elf said he was going to make some tea, and he asked John if he would like some. John agreed and waited in the living room while the elf went off to the kitchen. THUMP! John heard a noise from the kitchen, and he jumped to his feet.
John yelled, asking the elf if he was all right, and the elf replied saying he was trapped in the closet.
Without thinking about how on earth the little elf could have trapped himself in a closet while making tea, John ran into the kitchen and bolted into the closet.
John heard a cackle, and the door slammed behind him. He could barely hear the words being murmured beyond the door, but heard something about “human trash” and “trying to steal things”.
For several days John was left in the closet, given scraps to eat by the elf and nothing for entertainment. Every day John awoke, hoping that it had been a dream, and sighed with disappointment when he realized he was still trapped.
One day, John woke up to find that food had not been slipped inside overnight. John called out, but there was no reply.
I think he’s gone, John said to himself, This may be a good time to try and pick the lock. So John stuck his fingernail into the little keyhole and got to work.
After what seemed like hours to John, he heard a click. John’s heart lifted. He took a deep breath and slowly turned the doorknob.
The door creaked open and John cheered with delight. He glanced around. The elf was nowhere in to be seen, so John made for the front door.
As he drew nearer to the door, John noticed several large bags of gold.
This guy’s loaded! It won’t hurt him if I take just a little, John thought. He crept over to the bags and snatched one. It was surprisingly light, as if an enchantment had been placed upon it to make it nearly weightless.
John ran out the door and across the cloud, somewhat surprised to see the slice of pizza still there. He hopped on with the bag of gold over his shoulder and took off.
When John’s mother saw John open the front door, she squealed with delight. She ran over to John and hugged him and told him how worried she had been. She almost passed out when he showed her the bag of gold.
Eventually, however, the gold ran out, and John and his mother had nothing more to live on. So once again, John stepped on his pizza slice and flew to the sky.
John “parked” the pizza and ran up to the front door of the small house once more. He surprisingly found the door unlocked and peered inside.
John saw the little elf with the gold hat standing in front of a machine that looked a lot like a copier, except with a small pipe at the top and a large indent on the side.
The elf quietly spoke to himself as he poured a bucket of flour into the pipe. Minutes later, a huge cube of gold planted itself in the indent.
John stared on with awe, this machine was utterly amazing. The elf put the gold block under the coffee table and went to sleep on the couch.
John quietly crept inside and attempted to pick up the machine. Just as the bag of gold, the machine seemed to be altered to be as light as a feather.
John balanced the machine in his arms and carried it back to the pizza slice. He flew back home, his mouth grinning with pride.
John’s mother was astonished, and soon they were living like royalty, buying things as they pleased and moving into a much bigger house.
As John lay in his bed, he began to get greedy. He thought of the elf and his golden hat. People will admire me if I wear a gold hat around town, John thought, I want it.
In the middle of the night John crept outside into their new, large backyard. He stepped onto the pizza slice and took off like a shot. It was like riding a bike. Once you learned how, you never forgot.
He landed on the cloud and sprinted over to the house. He again found the door unlocked. Doesn’t this guy know how to lock a door? John thought to himself. He steadily set his foot on the wood floor of the front hallway and peeked inside. The golden hat was there, sitting on the coffee table. John tiptoed over to the sitting area as quietly as possible. A floorboard creaked and John heard the elf shouting from upstairs. John grabbed the hat and ran.
John bolted out the door, not bothering to close it. Close behind him was the elf, who was surprisingly fast for someone with such short legs. The elf yelled and wagged his fist as he chased John, who reached the pizza slice with the elf thirty feet behind him.
John tripped over the edge of the pizza and fell forward. He scrambled to get up, but slipped again on the sauce. Just as John was taking off, the elf dove and caught the edge of the crust.
The elf scolded John as he swerved this way and that, trying to get the elf to slip off.
Geez, John thought, you’d think a guy who can run fifteen miles an hour with two foot tall legs and can hang on to a giant slice of pizza by the crust while it’s zipping all over the place would be able to figure out how to lock a door.
The elf was just about to climb up, and John panicked. Then he saw the tear he had made during his first trip on the pizza slice and got an idea.
John kneeled down and took as big of a bite as he could, hoping this would cause the crust to peel off. John held his breath and nothing happened. The elf swung his other hand around, and the crust tore off, falling to the ground and taking the nasty little elf with it.
John returned to his mother with the golden hat, and soon a legend grew. Many generations told of the boy with the golden hat who strutted through town every day, passing out gold to everyone he passed.
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Who'd want to be men of the people when there's people like you?
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