(There is no violence! I promise).
“You sure you’re into this, little bro?” “Yeah” I said. My brother and I had entered a flight competition where you have to build airplanes that can fly from England to Australia. No one had ever done it before, so the reward was great. If you lost however, your plane and other remaining will self-destruct into fireworks. Be glad you have an ejector seat. No pressure there. When we were ready, we loaded our plane with the #1 primary food source, pickles. You just have to agree. Then, the countdown stared. “7, 9, 4, 6, 2, 21, 11, 10, 3, 8, 5, 1, LIFTOFF!”. Our plane took off, into the moonlit stars, but we were unaware of the journey ahead of us…
“WAKE UP!!! WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUUUHHGGP!!!!!”. I stretched and yawned, then stretched again. I took my time to sit up (not because I was tired, because I wanted to annoy my brother). “Wair areme?” I mumbled. “WE ARE ON OUR PLANE FOR THE LAST TIME!!!”. “Firstly: no need to be so angry. Secondly: that was the first time. Thirdly, the most important thing: did you eat pickles?” I waved my finger at him at the last one. “I was hungry, okay?!” he yelled. I gasped. “Did you say you ate my pickles, without my permission?” I said, bewildered. “So what?” he sighed. “SO WHAT?!” I screamed. My bro grabbed a pickle jar. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” I screamed. “Not the pickles! Anything but the pickles!” I sobbed as I raced to grab them. Instead, I nocked them into the infinite stretch of ocean. “Rest in peace, little one. Rest in peace.” I cried. Then a seagull grabbed the jar. “C’mere.” I said. “C’mere C’mere C’mere.” Suddenly, a giant fish leapt up and swallowed the gull in a gulp. An eel wrangled it and the fish spat the bottle out and the spit evaporated in the heat and landed in my grasp. “So that happened.” I said to break the silence. “mmhhhhm” my brother nodded. I swallowed it instantly.
Kabloosh! The thunder roared. Lightning ripped the sky open like it was wrapping on a present. I was terrified. The plane shook. The angry grey clouds were opening fire using rain droplets. It was not pitter-pattering. Oh, no. It was a loud, steady army of big heavy droplets slamming into our masterpiece. “We are going to have to land!” my brother called. “Well, we can’t! I don’t think you’ve noticed, but we are above the ocean!” I yelled back. “Then we have to go above the clouds!” “Okay.” KRA-BOOM! Roared the thunder, snapping us back to reality. We tilted the plane and shot up. From above, the ferocious clouds now looked like soft, fluffy innocent cotton balls. When the storm calmed, we flew back down. There was… (suspense) a dot. A tiny dot. A tiny black-and-white dot. A not-that-tiny-anymore black and white dot. A … well, you get it. After a while, dot became boat. Boat became ship. Heading to… (more suspense) AUSTRALIA!!!
We flew with the ship for several more endless days above the infinite stretch of ocean. Soon, we realised we had to say thanks somehow. Remember the primary food source? Yeah, that one. The lumpy green one. Its going to be very useful. “AHA!” I exclaimed. “The pickles are the answer!” mwah. I kissed one of the jars. I told my brother my (awesome)(as always)(like me) plan. “Quick! Eat the pickles!” nom nom nom. In 6.32 seconds, all the pickles had vanished. We stuffed our note into the jar and dropped it down to the ship below. After reading the note, the captain smiled.
When our plane landed, we were greeted with applause. Fireworks flashed in the sky from the exploded planes while the owners dropped safely to the boat using parachutes (told you that there was no violence). They lived happily ever after because that’s how a good story ends.