I'm Running Away, Please

By Goth-girl

            Penelope Taynt sat in her room.  "Oh, please, please, where's Amanda, please!  Oh Lord, why please can I not meet Amanda please?  I ought to meet Amanda!  I'm her number one fan, please!  Amen, please!"

            It seemed as if her prayer had been answered the next day in school.  "Hello, everyone," the teacher said.  "As part of our unit on theatre, we will be visiting the Amanda Show.  After this, we will each get to interview one member of the cast."

            "OH YES, PLEASE!!!!!  I FINALLY GET TO MEET AMANDA, PLEASE!" Penelope yelled.

            The other kids were looking at her like she was insane, which she was, but that's not my fault.  Anyway, she started jumping up and down in excitement, and grabbed the poor, innocent teacher by the collar.  "When may I finally meet Amanda, please?"

            "Um, um, uh, as soon as uh," the teacher said.

            Ring!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

            "That's the bell," Penelope said.  "I fare thee well, please," she said, grabbing her books, and running out the door to make sure she was early for Science.

            That night at dinner, Penelope was so excited; you would think that she sat on a fork.  "And WE GET TO MEET AMANDA PLEASE!!!!" she yelled.  "Can I go, please?"

            "Honey, it's on Friday?" her dad asked.

            "Yes, please, that's one of the advantages of living in California, please!" she said happily.

            "Didn't we tell you dear?" her mother asked.  "We're moving to an uncharted region of Antarctica where they don't have cable or internet."

            "NO PLEASE!" Penelope shrieked.  "What is life without sweet Amanda?"

            "A lot less energetic, I hope," her dad said lamely.

            "That's it please," she said, while in her room.  "I'm running away please."