A/n: This came from an unverified brainwave. Ah, the perils of boredom.
Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I own neither Juno nor Junie B. Jones. Who'd have thought?
Dear Tenth-Grade Journal,
My name is Juno B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don't like Beatrice. I like B and that's all. B stands for something else, too.
B stands for B-A-B-Y.
I know how to spell that word because I'm going to have one of those things. On account of my best friend Paulie Bleeker, I think. I told Mother and Daddy about that situation real fast, but they only laughed when I told them. I didn't appreciate that, because it was not really all that funny.
Then Mother sat me down and told me I shouldn't joke about that, young lady. And then I told her yeah, only I wasn't joking. That situation was not fun, I tell you.
Anyways, I decided to keep carrying around that little thing, and not get a 'bortion. Except no one ever told me that I'd get as fat as Phillip Johnny Bob, my stuffed elephant. I was not happy about that development, as Phillip Johnny Bob was the fattiest elephant I ever saw.
Don't feel bad, Phillip Johnny Bob said. I've been fat forever and there's nothing I can do about it.
"Yeah, only here's the problem, Phillip," I said. "You're only fat because you have fluffy in you. And you don't have a teensy weensy baby elephant inside of you."
That's because I'm a boy elephant. Plus, I'm only made of fluffy.
I thought for a minute. "That never stopped Stephanie Meyer," I said.
Good point.
Seasons passed, I got fatter, and Paulie runned all over the place. Eventually that dumb baby made up its mind and decided it was time to come out. And WOWIE WOW WOW! I had a little baby boy. He was the cutest little monkey. He wasn't a monkey though. That is called a figure of speech, I believe. And as cute as he was, I gived him away to this woman called Vanessa.
That is called a happy ending, probably.
Juno B. Jones, Tenth Grader.
A/n: You know the drill. Review. Fave. Share. Whatever, really :D