LyraMadeline

Jay Knowles

Sean King

Benjamin Chandler

Jacob Sherman

Sam Becker

English

“Please,” I prayed, still holding on to her for dear life. “Please, let this be a dream, or reverse time, or something, but please keep my little sister alive.” My palms were getting sweaty, and both of our hands were covered with tears. I didn’t want to look down.

Knees weak, arms were heavy, there was vomit on her sweater already, mom’s spaghetti, she was nervous but on the surface she looked calm and ready, and as she drew her last breath she spoke carefully, “Sister, thank you for taking care of me, but it’s time to go it’s plain to see

that it’s pronounced ‘bahscetti’. Bahscetti and meatballs. Bahscetti with Presto. Bahscetti carberator. Say it with me?” He sighed and shook his head. “Jackie, you’re 43 years old. Get a grip on reality.”

Jackie would not "get a grip." She took her bahscetti fight to the streets. Grassroots stuff. Protests. "Bahscetti's a word!" But soon news came to Jackie's team about rival groups. Someone in Michigan was spreading talk about "gaspetti" & the West Coast was using "pasghetti."

But when all was said and done, the Italian Mafia finally banded together against one common enemy. Not “bahscetti”, “gaspetti”, or “pasghetti”, but, “noodles”. “Noo-doles? What’s that?” Jackie asked, bewildered. “You heard me,” a mysterious man said, “Noo… dles.” A gong sounded.

Untitled