The next day in school, Penelope sat in class, angrily glaring at the other students who would get to meet Amanda.  "Now, class.  Today we will each write a letter to Amanda asking a few questions that you want her to address when we see her."

            Penelope let out a revered gasp.  "You mean…" she said, taking a step towards the teacher.  "That these letters will go to sweet Amanda's actual delivery man, who will put them in Amanda's actual mailbox!  And then sweet Amanda will pick them up using her actual hands, and then…she'll read them, and then she'll actually meet us please?"

            "Just shut up, you geek!" a jock yelled.

            "Sit down, Penelope," the teacher said.  "And try to contain yourself."

            "I heard that she's not going on the trip.  So, I guess whichever one of us writes the best letter will prove to Amanda that we are her Number One fan!" a girl named April sneered.

            "Oh yes please!  We'll see who is Amanda's NUMBER ONE fan please!" Penelope said.  Then, she began her letter.

Dear Sweet Amanda Baines,

            Hello please.  My name is Penelope Taynt, and I am your number one fan please.  I'm sure please that lots of people think that they are your number one fans please, but I am your number one fan please!  I even have my very own Amanda website, just for you called www.amandaplease.com!  I made it because you are the most talented, beautiful, and funny actress to walk the face of this green Earth please.  I am such a huge fan of yours please that I tried to clone you once please, only the DNA was Blake's, or Steak's, or I don't care, this part is wasting my life, please.  I was very disappointed please, because I wanted my very own actual Amanda please, and I did not want my very own actual Blake, please.  Every day, I wonder please.  You should meet me, because although please, you've met the Spice Girls, Will Smith, Frankie Munitz, that soda girl please, and Adam Sandler, Adam Sandler does not happen to be you NUMBER ONE FAN PLEASE!  I really want to meet you please; your thickheaded security guard even catches me please every time you're on please.  But my problem is that my family is making me move to Antarctica please!  Then I'll never get to see you please!  What should I do, please?
Your Number One fan, who is far inferior to you, and your amazing talent for acting and comedy, and appearance, who only wants to meet you please, so I can be your best friend please, even though you don't know me please, it would be fun please, sincerely,

                                                                                                Penelope Taynt

            The next day, Penelope was drawing out a new plan on how to meet Amanda, when the phone rang.  "HELLO, please, Amanda?  Amanda please?"          

            "Sorry, this is your school counselor.  Is your mother or father around?" the counselor asked.

            "Fine please," she said, handing the phone to her mother.

            "Hello, Ms. Spears (I don't own her,) is there a problem?" Penelope's mother asked.

            "Well, you have to understand that Penelope is not a girl, but not yet a woman.  All she needs is time.  Anyway, sometimes girls her age run, and sometimes they hide.  But sometimes their parents drive them crazy, and they just can't sleep."

            "What's your point?" her mother asked.

            "I think your baby needs to see a psychiatrist one more time," Ms. Spears said.

            "I must run away please," Penelope said up in her room.  "I have to pack please, she said, stuffing every Amanda artifact that she had into a small duffle bag, completely ignoring what she would need for basic survival.  "It won't all fit, please," she said in horror.

            In a few hours, Penelope had found every suitcase and box in the house to put all of her Amanda stuff in, but still forgot her survival necessities.

            "Penelope, dear.  Why are you taking every box and suitcase from our house outside, and why are you trying to carry all that at once?" her father asked.

            She said it. "I'm running away, please, and you can't stop me please," she said, shortly before she fell over, and some of her boxes landed on her.  "Ow please!"

            Then, she looked at her Amanda show tapes.  "IT BROKE PLEASE!!!  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!  Oh, sweet Amanda!  I have failed you!"