Category: Satire Stories

It started as any of our other hunting trips — with high hopes and low expectations.  Sturgis Fenton and I were going to spend three days hunting the hills of northeast Washington.

Poof! A chalk eraser ricocheted off the top of my head. Chalk dust settled in a cloud around my desk.

“I told you, Mitchell!  I told the class that if I caught anyone looking at their keyboard, I would wing an eraser at them. There you were staring at your fingers.”

The rest of the class, afraid to look up from the test cards in front of them, nevertheless, giggled. It was after all, a timed typing test so every word counted.

“Just another ripple on my lake of irritation,” I can almost hear custodian Luke muttering this as he hiked up the stairs to the third floor at Bellingham High School. For some reason the drinking fountain was plugged.

Ho, Ho, No! You ain’t getting me into that thing! And with that, Santa left his sleigh and drove off in his car.

Dad and I stared at each other. “Huh,” he said. “I guess we go with plan B.”

It was the yearly tradition of The Santa flights.