Slip Slidin Away

Editor's Note: The following is one version of a story that appears in a different form later on in this issue. We thought since we have the space, we would share a work in progress. Sit back and take notes, notice what works and who doesn't. We'd like to hear what version you think better. Be sure to use concrete examples. This will not be graded only judged.

Listen up kiddies and let your Pappy tell you a story of intrigue and romance, of a familiar attraction to a femme fatale. Far from lurid and sordid this is a story of love and global warming.

It all began on one of those famous chilly Minnesota nights. Pappy was a-sittin with his pal, Max the cat, watching Dan and Connie, or as Pappy used to call them, America's favorite news couple, on the evening news. Max was a-droolin and a-spittin food, and Pappy was sippin on a Snapple and puffing on his pipe.

Well, America's favorite news couple told a story about how a skater named Nancy K. was whacked across her knee by a big, burly bully. Nancy was trying out for the Olympic team and this incident seemed to throw a wrench, or some kind of large metallic object into her dreams. "Why me?" she cried over and over. "Shuddup," Pappy selfishly screamed at his TV.

At the time, people took it as another crazy, random act of senseless violence. We were given analysis after analysis about the larger meaning of the attack, the continuing crumbling of society with lunatics at large. But as it all unfolded, it turned out that minions in Ms. K's competitor's camp had plotted the attack led by the (former?) husband and bodyguard of the spunky, young blonde from the wrong side of the tracks. There was a large conspiracy at work to arrange for this young blonde skater to eliminate Ms. K and clear a path towards the gold medal and endorsement money that athletics were all about.

Shocked and enthralled, the story gripped America tighter than a fifty below wind-chill, more shocking than yet another California earthquake. The events seemed beyond belief, beyond a Hollywood melodrama. It even had a bittersweet ending. Ms. K's competition's entourage was brought to justice, the competition run out of town, clearing the way for Nancy to win a bronze metal, and become an American generation's spokesperson for soup.

"What happened to the blonde, Pappy?" one of the children queries. "Well son," Pappy says. "You now know her as mom." (The children let out an audible gasp.)

"See when Pappy saw a wronged soul, he knew what he had to do, he had to meet this young woman and make her his wife. He didn't care about the accusations saying she was involved in the whacking. He saw a tough individual who even seemed to be thriving on the extra attention. But Pappy also saw beneath the tough exterior, a heart of a child. That her lower class upbringing became a motive for the attack seemed to him, unfair. Your Pappy himself was reminded of another time, of pool playin, whiskey drinkin, cigarette smokin, days when he would go and ponder the significance of it all by driving to Arizona and looking at a big hole in the ground. The journey we took is one I'd never leave behind." The children looked satisfied as well as confused and also a bit sleepy.

"So go unlace your skates, kiddies, and I'll go help your momma fix the car. . ."