I don't own powerpuff girls. Clear? Okay, then, moving on...Please enjoy!
Last night, Blossom read her textbook and quizzed her sisters to study for her English test. The material was fairly easy, but Blossom always studied.
Blossom triple-checked her work. Yep, everything seemed correct. It was some standard questions, from some simple grammar questions to vocabulary to an essay question at the end. The essay topic was "What is your proudest accomplishment?" For Blossom, this topic was a piece of cake. Not only was she an excellent writer, she also has much to be proud about. "Okay class, times up," her teacher Ms. Huffle said. "Pass your papers from back to front. Front row, pass it to the left to Brick. Meanwhile, take out your packets."
Papers rustled from being pulled out of folders and being passed to Brick. Suddenly, the stack of papers on Brick's desk was flying, and he quickly identified his own packet from the various tests and gave the tests to Ms. Huffle. Blossom noticed that he did not blush or even grimace in embarrassment.
Blossom sat there patiently waiting at her desk, hands folded neatly in front of her. Ms. Huffle was passing back the English tests, and Blossom wanted to know her score. She hoped she got a perfect score, which was more than likely, seeing that the test seemed fairly easy. Usually she aimed for a 99, to leave some room for mistakes and not put too much pressure on herself. Blossom remembered in embarrassment the time she got a 92 on her test. A 92! Sure, she was one of the only seven people who scored above ninety, but it still mortified her. She checked the questions she got wrong again and again, and went into a frenzy studying for the next test, which she got a perfect score on and finished half an hour before time was up.
When the teacher finally got to Blossom's desk, the most peculiar expression flashed across Ms. Huffle's face. Oh no, did I get something wrong? Blossom thought anxiously. Ms. Huffle pressed the paper down onto her desk. Blossom immediately saw her score, marked in unforgiving red strokes. 66. 66. 66? 66!
How could that even be possible? How could she get a 66 on a test? For a moment she thought that she was holding the paper upside down, and that is was really a 99. But she saw that all the other text was right side up, so she knew that wasn't the case. Blossom frantically checked the name—maybe the teacher passed her the wrong paper! But no, in neat, tidy letters it read "Blossom".
Even though she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, she forced herself to look over the questions she got wrong.
Underline down the prepositional phrase(s) in these sentences.
The man sitting in the chair was reading the newspaper he bought from the supermarket.
I reached for the book between two enormous encyclopedias.
"Sit next to Kate," the teacher commanded.
Blossom felt of mixture of relief and disbelief. She didn't write this! These answers were ridiculous! I'm great at prepositional phrases! I know I didn't write this, but why is there my name here? Blossom thought.
After class, Blossom approached Ms. Huffle. She asked, "Ms. Huffle? I want to ask you about the test."
Ms. Huffle tried comforting Blossom, "It's okay, Blossom honey. I understand that between fighting that new criminal gang and that carnivorous plant you haven't had much time to study and prepare for the test. Especially with those rumors that Professor Utonium finally found himself a date. Really, it took that man long enough."
Blossom's eyes bugged out. Did Ms. Huffle really think the criminal gang and the carnivorous plant could prevent Blossom from studying? They were easy opponents, beaten in five minutes flat. And did Ms. Huffle really think that Professor found himself a….a girlfriend? That's preposterous! Blossom said, "The problem is, I did study. And these answers aren't mine."
Ms. Huffle suddenly became stern. "Blossom! Don't lie! I never in a million years would've labeled you as a liar. Maybe Brick or Butch, but not you. In fact, Brick got an 84 on this test, a great improvement. I never thought I'd say this but you should take a leaf out of his book."
Blossom was taken aback at the accusations of her lying. But she was even more alarmed that Brick got an 84. He must've cheated. Blossom thought. She isn't one to usually jump to conclusions, but this answer was obvious. "Ms. Huffle," Blossom tentatively began, "don't you think it's a bit fishy that Brick got an 84?"
Ms. Huffle sighed and nodded. "I do admit that it is a bit odd. However, I go by 'innocent until proven guilty'. I like to think that Brick actually earned his score."
"But, couldn't you just have a parent-teacher conference with Mojo?" Blossom suggested.
Ms. Huffle turned pale, and in a slightly hysterical voice, she said, "I'm not having another meeting with Mojo if I can help it. Nope, not in a million years. You can't pay me enough to have another meeting, with…..with…..him." She seemed to realize how crazy she sounded, so she tried to compose herself by forcing her back straight and slapping on a smile. "Now go to your next class," Ms. Huffle practically shoved Blossom out of the room.
Before Ms. Huffle closed the door, she sighed, and said, "Sorry, Blossom. You'll just have to take the retest like everyone else."
Blossom felt grim as she stood in the empty hallway, now late for her next class. That Brick! Blossom felt anger and annoyance build inside of her, the kind only a rowdyruff can induce from her. Then suddenly, creepily, Blossom started to smile. It's okay if the teacher won't help. It's okay if Brick made her late for her next class. Those are all trivial matters. Mere distractions. You should know that learning is just a hobby for Blossom. Grades are an obsession. But her real passion is catching criminals. Especially cheaters.
After school ended, Blossom followed Brick. He went to the skate park, then a real park (with trees), and finally headed to his home (or should I say Mojo's laboratory?) Through the transparent window, she could see that Brick was tinkering away on his computer, the only object in decent condition in his room. There were papers strewn all over the floor, dirty clothes on the bed, and no doubt junk food and half-eaten wrappers thrown all over the place. Wait a second. Is that…Blossom thought she saw her name on one of those papers. Using her super vision, she correctly identified it as her test. That sneaky little creep! Blossom thought. She was determined to get her test back and show it to Ms. Huffle. That ought to be enough evidence. (Ms. Huffle puts a stamp for the date on each test, so there is no way to replicate it without her special stamp).
The next day, Brick had basketball practice, which Blossom knew took about an hour—more than enough time to steal back her test. Sneaking into Brick's room was ridiculously easy. All she had to do was dispatch an alarm system, avoid the red laser beams by doing Olympic-level gymnastic moves, break a bulletproof window, and knock Boomer out cold. The hard part is actually finding her test in this mountain of paper. After five whole minutes, she found it. Triumphantly, she raised her fist in the air.
"Blossom?" Brick's voice asked in disbelief. He was standing at the doorway. Blossom spotted a basketball uniform on the bed. How could I have missed that? She scolded herself.
Thinking fast, she accused, "What is this doing here?" She waved her test paper angrily in the air.
Brick looked shocked for about a second. Then smirked. "Oh, it's there because I put it there," Brick calmly stated.
Blossom faked a calm demeanor while asking in a honey sweet voice, "Now why would you have my test?"
"Well, I hacked into Ms. Huffles computer and found out the test questions and answers. Then I memorized the correct answers. I printed out a copy of the test and filled in your name and wrote down wrong answers. Your handwriting was easy to imitate. You should be glad I let you get a 66." Brick said.
"So, you admit it then. You wouldn't mind if I told Ms. Huffle?" Blossom asked, sure she had him.
"Sure, if you don't mind me telling Townsville how you broke into my home," Brick retorted.
Blossom was stumped. And I almost had him! Blossom thought. Anger welled up inside of her. The injustice. The rules she had to break. Getting bested by Brick. Lying to Professor of what she did after school. Ms. Huffle refusing to help her. And above all, Brick actually getting away with it. "Brick," Blossom said in an uneven voice. "Go get me something I can punch."
Brick snorted. "Why should I?"
"Brick, " Blossom continued in her uneven tone. "Go get it now before I destroy everything in this room."
Brick could tell she meant it. He muttered something about girls under his breath and quickly brought her his punching bag. He set in against the wall. Blossom let out a quick shout of "ha" and punched. The punching bag dented and caved in. You could easily tell that it could not be restored. The wall had a hole in it as well. Brick threw his hands up in the air and exclaimed, "Not again! First Butch and then you! And Mojo wonders how I always spend my allowance so quickly!" He pointed his finger accusingly at Blossom. "You have to pay for this."
Blossom snarled, "I don't have to do anything." She flew away. Even though Blossom was usually a goody-goody, being the bad girl wasn't so bad. She grinned.
Blossom was comforted by the fact that three quarters of the class was taking a retest. When she admitted to her friends about her embarrassing need to take the retest, they cheered, and exclaimed "finally!" Blossom was a bit miffed but forgave them quickly when they treated her to a movie and some ice cream.
Essay Question. 50 points. Write an essay about the wildest thing you've ever done. Word limit: 500 minimum, 700 maximum.
Blossom looked down at her paper and smiled; thinking, Boy is this going to be an easy A.
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