thanks for truckin' with this absent minded writer. enoy coke a cola.

I'm alone in the universe.
So alone in the universe.
I've found magic but they don't see it
They all call me a lunatic.
Ok, call me a lunatic.
If I stand on my own, so be it.
'Cause I have wings.
Yes, I can fly
Around the moon
And far beyond the sky
And one day soon
I know there you'll be
One small voice in the universe
One true friend in the universe
Who believes in me.

- Seussical.

"Monologues and dialogues available in the theater and will be delivered cold for auditions on Monday,"
An uproar of abhor emerged in the murky lit theater of Hill Ridge high. In actuality this dramatic arts auditorium is called," the little theater" and it's not a pun on it's cute factor either, it was just cheaply made and crowded; due to no funding.

I slid down into my carroty colored plastic chair; I wasn't sure how to respond, do I groan along?
I nudged Miranda's arm, she was one of them moaning her detest with rest. I wasn't sure why I engaged in act of rhyming today. I hated Dr. Seuss -- - I don't know how that man managed to drag on the pursuit of 'green eggs and hams' 62 pages too long.

"Gordo, this is so not just, I mean, really!"
Miranda fumed. Great, some sentence fragments will help me figure why all these obnoxious drama geeks are whining.

"Miranda, pick a sentence and go with it! What's this cold delivery Mr. Bates, is addressing?" my tone hinted my aggravated state.

"Oh, right you're a newbie!" along with my hate for Dr. Seuss's awful children lit. There's the word 'newbie'. I 'just smiled and nodded' like all those overrated-oversized-Goth-shirts read in red bold letters 'just smile and nod' or 'can't sleep, evil clown will eat me'. Damn you Hot Topic, but kudos to making millions of teens look ridiculously idiotic with studded everything.

"—cold means no time for prep, you just get on the stage with your once over of the monologue you got and act your heart out while they judge away!" she flung her arms in the air and fingers instantly became 'jazz hands'. Some drama geeks giggled, I really don't get drama-humor.

"I Gottcha, Thanks" I shuffled my poorly printed hands-outs, while Miranda's hilarity filled the 'little theater' with laughs a minute. I nervously joined in; it was my idea of being polite.

"Miranda, you tell jokes like nobodies business" or "tell that and all that jazz" and "good times!"

These catch phases are scattered from corner to corner of theater, why do they all add these attach-on's to everything they say? Not to mention them all high five after everything Miranda feeds them. I'm a little too observant for my tastes; I hold responsible my mother and father to that fun trait of mine, after all they are physiologists. You can't guess how many nut-jobs, I mean clients I've had the pleasure to meet.

The snickers came to dead halt when a glow filled the little theater, as if an angel had fell down to earth and taken a interest in improvisation. I groggily focused my eyes to the sudden brightness and noticed Miranda eagerly squinting to see who was slinking in through the heavy door. Miranda wasn't the only one; all drama geeks seemed to be at the edge of their uncomfortable seats.

This better be good, god, what the hell is taking this angel so long to cross the threshold for?

"Hi, sorry I was late everyone, I had to makeup a quiz in geometry" he laughed off, like we cared why he ran late.

"Gordo, I bet he aced it!" Miranda assumed, swollen with pride for this Jesus of drama. I grinned slightly along with her lame assumption she so supported.
I watched all the guys' high-five him as he strutted down the aisle and all the gals' giving him their most sexist "hey" and faintly grazing him some where.

"Hey-- -" Miranda practically purred and managed to touch his shoulder as he made way to the front of the orange row of sets I don't see it; no one was this well-received since The Beatles. This so-called god was a lanky white boy with a dirty blond 'fro-- - I frantically fingered though my immensely thick dark curls and cringed. I have a white boy afro and I mean sure I'm no body builder but surly I'm not...

"Gordo, your boney elbow is elbowing me" Miranda nagged, she flicked and scraped me with her flesh manicure nail themed after the British flag.

Hello, synonyms: boney, lanky, skinny. All the same, I might as well be a twin to this cleb of the drama club. I did a psycho–analysis thanks dad of this inflated haired fellow, his side profile was consumed in his honker of a long nose, and it could go on for miles that nose and occasionally he would draw a curly lock in his month, he was fairly girly looking.

Well, callin' him a girl is kinda low, he had the whole "pretty boy" look goin' for him and his face was pretty long to match his long nose, I suppose.

"Suessical the Musical, that's a wonderful idea Veruca" Mr. Bates answered a pulpy raised arm.

"A wonderful idea for next year"

a sigh of relief.