The Defeat of Shark Tooth Island
A Test of True Character
Composed by: Koffeeholic
Characters: Please, there are too many AI players to begin with! But our narrator's name is Icy Thunder. If you played that game, you'd understand.
Setting: Shark Tooth Island
Warning: None
Disclaimer: That game belongs to Mr. Jeff Kinney, copyrighted 2007.
Summary:
Icy Thunder decides to wander away from home after being grounded for losing the bronze medallions of his sister, Icy Snowball. His sister gets upset and cries about not having anything to show her little worth, but she gets even more upset when she, her mom, and dad discover that Icy Thunder had escaped through his bedroom window on a stormy night, only taking himself and a brown leather backpack.
Koffeeholic's Word:
For this, the family name is the first word (in this case, "Icy") and the given name is the word after the first word. And there might be somewhat of a tasteful tutorial of the easy Shark Tooth Island.
"Aunt Pear! Uncle Comet!" a tiny, pale girl cried in the dark and over the roaring clamor of the weather. "THUNDER!"
Two bouncy adults rushed up the staircase with a flashlight in hand. "Snowball! We're your parents! It's Mom and Dad to you!" the woman said. "And what are you doing in your brother's room?"
Snowball stood on her toeless feet then fell to her non-existent knees. She stammered through her tears as she put her round hands over her face, "THUNDER'S GONE!"
The man said, "What are you talking about? Thunder's right over there…" He stopped silent and chilled; the mother let her flashlight hit the carpet beneath them.
They all gasped. A thunderous boom sounded with a strip of lighting ripping through the clouds, turning on the lights in Thunder's room, revealing an opened window across the room. Its curtains waved a secret farewell in the wet wind.
"THUNDER! COME BACK!"
The Defeat of Shark Tooth Island
That's all I can pretty much remember right now. I heard the whole thing because I was just under the windowsill, waiting for the lightning to pass by. Now, my objective is to get to the lake and catch my dad's boat so I can get out of here. Before I hopped out, I tiptoed to the bookcase and grabbed an old book of strange maps that point to a strange set of islands called Poptropica. And at the bottom of the first map, it had a script. The script told me this eerie rhyme:
Of those that have fear and cowardice left behind,
the many of them will come to Poptropica, and adventures of treasure they will find!
I've got no fear! I don't have cowardice either! I just ran away from home not too long ago! And I want treasure and adventure too!
I run down to the lake and hop into the boat and paddle against the current for my life. By the way, I think I forgot to introduce myself properly. My name is Icy Thunder. Kind of strange, huh? I'm in thunder and I am Thunder. Anyway, my head is sort of ovoid. I have round feet with no toes and round hands with no fingers. I wear this black and white shirt and black shorts that make me look like I broke out of a prison (sort of feels that way); my limbs are like creamy noodles and I have no elbows or knees (or a neck). And my skin is a ghostly white with grey freckles. I've got blue hair under a red baseball cap too.
After a few, immeasurable moments of paddling, I'm far away from home and the house has already disappeared behind a thicket of tree branches that form a canopy over the lake. And I'm soaking wet. The canopy ends, revealing the ocean along with another side of the island I've never seen. I take deep breath of watery air and continue to paddle onwards as the cold rain pelts my entire body.
In the middle of the ocean, I discover something frightening. "WHIRLPOOL!" I hold back a scream then use the ore to push myself away from the disaster waiting to swallow me whole. I'm a panting mess now, wishing I could have stayed in my warm bed, listening to my family giving me the silent treatment for what I did wrong to little Snowball for the rest of my years.
I look up to the sky because the clap of thunder feels like the call of my name. Following it is its best friend, a girl I like to call a stripe of white lighting. Mesmerized, I can't move. It staggers down from the black clouds of the stormy night to claim me as its victim. I close my eyes before it kissed me with its electrifying lips. And like sitting ducks, my father's boat and I just get sucked into the whirlpool.