3 October 2011 Class Exercise #1

1. Sentence Summaries:

Story 1: " Darla was always given everything she wanted and all her father asked for is for her to never leave, however as she grew older, she became more rebellious and her father had to take matters into his own hands. "

Story 2: " Eric is about to leave the country to pursue his education but his best friend Sarah, whom he shares romantic feelings for and spent most of his time since young with, barely wants to continue living if he is not by her side."

Story 3: " A once famous scientist named Mr Sanders now spends his days locked up in his workshop with only his wife in his mind, trying to fix a wrong deed he made many many years ago. "

Story 4: " A cat grows up to see his mother die and learns that he will be separated from his siblings after his owners could not afford to keep all of them, but despite the darkness he was thrown into, he finds a light at the end of his tunnel."

Story 5: " Dr Adams is a popular plastic surgeon who has an obsession for perfection; soon his obsession heightens to cause him to go on a maniacal rampage and lose his sanity. "

2. Character Bio:

Name: Howard Sanders/ Mr Sanders

Age: 75

Residence: A large old mansion with a small workshop

Story #5: Perfect

Title: Perfect
1-Sentence Summary:
Dr Adams is a popular plastic surgeon who has an obsession for perfection; soon his obsession heightens to cause him to go on a maniacal rampage and lose his sanity.



“Oh Doctor, I need you to fix a problem I have.”

Oh goodness, you don’t know how much I hear that every day. A problem? Just one? No, woman. You need multiple surgeries with a face like yours. Such a vile looking human. How did she even get married I wonder?

My name is Dr Adams and I am one of the absolute best plastic surgeon in the world. Many people come to me to fix their horrid looking flaws. Ah, flaws. Such a word I abhor.

Flat nose? Small eyes? Breasts too small? Cheeks too saggy? I’ve helped them all. Helped them looked closer to perfect. Although that’s the problem. They normally only stop at one surgery. I even offer to fix more of their ugly flaws but they refuse! Such foolish behaviour, I say. Everyone should, and must look perfect.

Infact, I feel the need of a perfect looking human population grow inside me every day. I feel I am sent on this Earth to help fix God’s imperfect race. I am God’s helper. I believe I am. There is no denying it.

Sometimes the urge to perfect a body gets too overpowering, I often fix up dead bodies. I’ve been sent to psychiatry multiple times for this, but I believe there’s nothing wrong with me. Everyone deserves to look perfect even if they die.

Another patient coming in? Wonderful. Another canvas.

This one’s rather pretty. Ah, such beautiful blue eyes. What a pity it came along with such wrinkled deformed lips.

“Doctor, can you help me to fix my nose?”

WHAT? Your nose?! Woman, you’re lips are hideous! Just thinking about it makes me get into a headache! My headache starts whenever I get angry. It makes me do outrageous things.

My head throbs painfully.

No, not your nose. Your. Lips. Your. Lips. Your face. Your chin. Y-y-y-our--

I grab her neck, covered her mouth and now her body is my canvas. Oh stop screaming, it’s so ugly. I suffocate her with the handy anaesthesia. Goodnight, ugly duckling.

My scalpel glides through her white skin so easily. Such soft skin. Perfect for working on. Crimson red blood gushes out. What a lovely color. Such beauty can only be found underneath our skin. So unfortunate all of us aren’t as beautiful on the outside. The blood streams down the cheeks in such a graceful motion. My scalpel reaches her lips and I give it a good slicing. Not much different from cutting up a sausage and re-aligning it. Oh, she looks better already. But, no, nonono. This is not enough. Never enough.

Hours pass and her whole body is covered in blood and slices of skin. Oh my, did I get carried away? My mind is in a blur. My head’s throbbing subsided. Looking at her, she still is not perfect. What is wrong with me? Where has my gift of perfection gone to? I panic.

She lays motionless. Is she gone? She isn’t breathing anymore. I feel so sorry. Sorry that she didn’t die looking beautiful. I’m sorry I could not fix you. I’m worthless now. I am not a perfect helper.

I grab a surgical knife. I start stabbing myself multiple times. It hurts. The pain is swallowing me.

However I see the same crimson blood flow out of me. I smile. I am still beautiful on the inside. Atleast that’s something to be happy about. My vision blurs. I hear thumps on the door and nurses calling out my name and my patient’s. Loud stern shouts boomed from the door. Must be the police. Oh.. they’re much too late. I... see the light. A light to a perfect paradise? I hope.

Story #4: A Cat's Tail (Tale)

Title: A Cat’s Tail
1 Sentence Summary:
“A cat grows up to see his mother die and learns that he will be separated from his siblings after his owners could not afford to keep all of them, but despite the darkness he was thrown into, he finds a light at the end of his tunnel.”

Tiny bells jingled frantically. Spotty was running through the legs of large white dining chairs in the kitchen.

“Let me catch this puny lizard!”, he screeched.

His ears pointed backwards like wings to boost his speed. His paws moved quickly on the shiny white marble floor. His siblings Ribbon and Charcoal merely watched him from the sofa; always so amused with Spotty’s hyperactivity. Mittens, their elegant-looking mother with shiny white fur, continued keeping a watchful eye on them.

“Don’t knock over anything!”, his siblings teased him.

Spotty and his family belonged to the Williams family. Their collar pendants had ‘Mr Williams, 13 Barnaby Street. Please return if found.’ engaved behind. At the front of their pendant had their respective names. Their life was so easy.

Mittens was the first cat the Williams owned. She was big, beautiful and majestic, a representation of the William’s business at that time. Her name was given as her paws had darker fur colors which made her looks as if she was wearing mittens. She gave birth to three kittens. Ribbon; as Mr William’s daughter wanted a chance in naming the female gray kitten, Charcoal; being the one that stood out the most with a full coat of black fur, and lastly, Spotty; for resembling his mother the most with white fur but having a black patch of fur on his right eye.

Spotty led a pampered life as the Williams family were very wealthy. The food both the family and the cats ate were cooked by top chefs. Each cat even had a gold bowl each, with their inititals engraved boldly.

Years passed and the kittens grew into cats. Mittens grew older. Each day passed and Spotty noticed some unusual changes.

The wonderful chefs did not appear and make them delicious meals anymore. Instead they were fed only leftover food from dinner. Their food bowls were replaced with plastic containers. Men came knocking at the door almost every morning, and returned later taking away random furniture. Mrs Williams would cry every night when looking through bills in the envelopes. Mr Williams lost his job and would only sit in the living room staring into thin air. Little Sarah wasn’t so little anymore and barely spent time with them like how she used to play with them every evening. Worst of all, Spotty noticed his mother’s health deteriorate as she had a lack of nutrition after the Williams could not afford better food. Her eyes can barely open and she always stayed in a corner.

Mittens’ eyes gazed at her children. She knew she didn’t have much time left. Spotty and his siblings lay next to her and Mittens started licking each their heads for the last time. Spotty rested his paw on his mother’s belly. A warmth that he wouldn’t feel anymore.

The next morning, Spotty woke up and pressed his paws against his mother. Mittens’ body was cold. Her eyes were closed. The ends of her tongue peeped out her mouth. Spotty looked at his siblings and they started mewing miserably. The Williams family came down and started sobbing after seeing Mittens. A family member has left.

A week later, random strangers began visiting the house and observed the cats. Some had kids who pulled their tails, but the siblings missed being around kids so they didn’t mind. At the house’s door, a large sign read ‘Cats for Sale’. Spotty was sad. Why did they have to be so cruel to separate us? Ribbon and Charcoal refused to leave Spotty’s side when people wanted to pick them up. They would sleep together, knowing that they would be separated soon. The next morning, Charcoal was picked up by a lady. And after that, Ribbon, by a teenage girl. The cats meowed sadly as they left. Last one was Spotty. Spotty was slightly angry at the humans’ decisions and refused to accept a stroke on the chin offered by Mrs Williams.

“I’m sorry but we have no choice.”, she muttered while looking sadly at Spotty.

The next day, a child with two pony tails accompanied by her mother appeared in the house, looking eagerly at Spotty.  She wore a school uniform with the name ‘Hope’ on her name tag.

“Mommy, I want him!” the girl exclaimed excitedly, pointing at Spotty.

She proceeded in reaching out her hand to pet him, but being upset, Spotty clawed her in a blink of an eye.

The girl started crying. Her soft hands were now marked by his claws. The adults yelled at him and helped Hope. Spotty looked at the girl. She looked so sad. Her eyes looked like his, when he saw his mother pass on. Spotty knew that this girl did not deserve any of his sadness. He wanted to make her happy. 

Spotty walked over to Hope and started licking her wounds. The adults looked on in amazement. The girl giggled, smile and hugged Spotty tightly. This warmth. The familiar warmth.

As the girl’s mother carried Spotty in her arms as she left the house, Spotty looked back and saw a faint image of Mittens.

The image of Mittens licking her paws and her tail waving ‘goodbye’ faded away.

Exercise #1

Character Study:

Mrs Twit
Appearance:

• Dirty
• Very ugly
• Has one glass eye
• Carries a walking stick to fool people that she has difficulty walking, but actually uses it to hurt animals and children
• Old

Background:

• She is married to her equally unpleasant husband, Mr Twit.
• She was born beautiful, but her evil and ugly thoughts caused her to grow more hideous as she grew older.

Strengths:

• Sneaky and able to pull tricks on Mr Twit.

Weaknesses:

• Gullible

-

Write Up:

When one thinks of someone's wife, one would picture her as the softer and more demure counter-part to the husband. However, in Mrs Twit's case, she's equally as nasty as her husband. Both in her personality and appearance. 

Mrs Twit did not always look as hideous as she was now and infact, she was born quite pretty. Gradually she became very ugly as her thoughts were equally as nasty and scheming. No sign of kindness or gentleness can be seen on her horrid face. In my opinion, if she smiles, the whole world would cringe for awhile. That is how nasty she is.

In the story, she and her husband Mr Twit goes through a series of pranks they play on each other. These pranks are definitely not light-hearted. They are quite evil and horrifying. Although Mrs Twit is female, she is shown to be as equally mean and vengeful as her husband. This proves that not all females are gentle and soft-hearted or even 'weaker'.

Mrs Twit is an interesting character to me, however. She is a very strong woman. Strong, and strong-willed, even if its on the negative intentions. Even after being tricked by Mr Twit, she gets back on her feet and gave him a taste of his own medicine afterwards. This also shows that she's quite clever and possibly more clever than Mr Twit himself. 

She is also very crucial to the story as she keeps up with Mr Twit's mischief and they continuously plot against each other. Their constant pranks shows how quick-thinking yet evil their minds are. Despite being married to each other, they seem to hate each other so much. Somehow they are still 'together' as they are married.

The moral of the story is defined in the common phrase; 'what goes around, comes around'. They are both horrible individuals that did nothing but evil to each other and anyone around them. They were so mean to others that they did not even have the thought that something bad might happen to them in return. At the end of the story, they both 'disappear' due to the Shrinks and noone mourns for them or even feel sad. Infact people are glad and relieved that they're gone.


The Little Prince
Appearance:

• Curly golden blonde hair
• Very small

Background:

• He comes from an asteroid 'planet' called B-612 which is, as he described, very tiny: a size of a house.
• He left his planet to see how the rest of the universe is like.

Strengths:

• Polite
• Observant

Weaknesses:

• Takes things too seriously, easily gets upset

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Write Up:

As the story is titled The Little Prince, it shows that the story is mainly revolving around him despite having the Narrator being introduced first in the story. The Little Prince is a protagonist as he's good-hearted and is the one leading the story. He is very likeable and has the child-like innocence.

I believe that the Little Prince represents children and their innocence to the world. He is soft-hearted and pure, showing that he hasn't seen the harshness of the 'grown up' world. He is also curious and eager to explore, hence even rejecting an offer by a snake to return to his home planet.

He is also shown as being very naive, a trait common with children.

He is important to the story because the story follows him and his curiosity to explore the world, without him, the Narrator would not have anyone to talk or narrate about.

Bon Jovi 'It's my Life'
Boy receives a call from his friend and he only has 5 minutes to rush over to the place she is at and overcome any obstacle.

For the Birds
A group of small birds on a wire meets a strange large bird, and after trying to get rid of him as they dislike him, they end up embarrassing themselves.

Flamingo Fantasia
A yoyo-obsessed flamingo tries to disrupt the other dancing flamingoes.

Snowman
A lonely snowman in a glass dome wishes to be outside together with the other toys and he tries many ways to escape; only to end up in a fish tank.

Dino Fart
3 creatures seated side by side started comparing farts and the Pig's fart turns out to be deadly and knocks the T-Rex out.

Story #3: A Second Chance

" A once famous scientist named Mr Sanders now spends his days locked up in his workshop with only his wife in his mind, trying to fix a wrong deed he made many many years ago. "


Sweat trickled down his throbbing temples. There was barely any ventilation in his workshop yet Mr Sanders remained here for many days in a row, only coming out to get some food, water or a trip to the bathroom. His house was a large white bungalow and seemed worlds away from the workshop he built next to it. Yes, he even slept in his workshop.

The workshop was old. Termites have made holes in the planks of wood used as walls, allowing little light to seep in. The smell of oil, metal and sweat thrived within these walls. Gears, screws and metal parts scattered on the floors; there was barely any place to walk . Pieces of random tattered paper were on pasted onto the walls with what seemed like blue prints of a large machine sketched with full details.

Every day for five decades, his neighbours would walk past and whisper stories to their friends about him.

“Oh, he was such a great and successful scientist.”
“Even the President often invited him to dinner!”
“What a waste he has turned into now. He’s gone mad!”
“Such a pity his late beloved wife died so young..”

Framed nicely in a porcelain picture frame with doves carved onto it, a portrait of a beautiful young red-haired lady smiling joyfully, rested at the corner of his desk away from all the messy papers. The frame was polished and cleaned every day, not letting a speck of dirt touch it.

“My darling Rose..”, muttered Mr Sanders gently as he held up the picture of her. His thumbs pressed against the cheeks of the pictured lady.

His hammer struck repeatedly hard onto the large metal structure just slightly taller than him. He had been working on this machine for ages. 50 years is a long time for many, but not for Mr Sanders. He was rushing against time. Before his life time is up. He soon dropped his tools and looked infront of him; his wrinkled gloomy face brightened up.

“Rose! It’s finally done!”, he exclaimed excitedly like a young child.

Mr Sanders grabbed a black marker and stood on a stool to write a barely legible ‘TIME MACHINE’ on the machine. He walked to his desk and picked up the pictureframe of Rose. His trembling fingers exhausted from continuous work for over 50 years, he opened the frame and held the her picture like it was the most delicate feather in the world and slid it into his front chest pocket, right in front of his heart.

He started mashing buttons on the machine wildly and mumbling to himself.

In a few seconds, the machine lit up and the screen started blinking. He proceeded in attempting to open the door-like mechanic next to the screen. As it creaked open, Mr Sanders peered inside and his eyes widened. He saw the view from outside his house, inside the portal. Except the house was in a much better state. Flowers in his front porch were in bloom and the colours beautified his home. Birds were chirping and the grass was as green as it could be.

This was it. This is the time before ‘it’ happened.
Mr Sanders stepped into the ‘portal’ and in a blink of an eye, he was back in his house as it was 50 years ago. He looked around. The smell of rose perfume filled his nose. A smell he missed.

“Gosh, honey. You’re still half-asleep?! I’m gonna rush to work now!”, a sweet feminine voice sounded from behind.

Turning around, Mr Sanders’s heart skipped a beat. It was her. His lovely Rose. As beautiful as ever. He rushed forward and hugged her tightly.

“I missed you so much..”
“What are you talking about, Howard? It’s been only 10minutes since I went to the bathroom!”

Mr Sanders looked at her and smiled. This is my chance to save her from her car accident.

“Let me send you to work.”, he said with a big grin. “Work can wait. Just for you.”

Rose first gave a confused expression, then leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Suddenly he blacked out. The last image he remembered seeing was Rose smiling happily at him.

He opened his eyes to see himself back in his workshop. The portal was gone.

“PLEASE, WORK!”, he screamed, banging his fists violently on the machine.

The screen flickered and started showing images. He sees himself sending Rose off to the car and waving goodbye at each other. Then the camera follows Rose’s car. Rose was driving hastily while continuously checking her watch.

“I’m so late!”, she whined and started speeding up. Rose was always a person that panics in times of stress, thus she always made rash decisions when she’s in a rush. As Rose turns the car into a juction, a large truck slams into her within seconds. Mr Sanders flinched.

There Rose was, looking up blankly. Blood dribbled down the sides of her lips. She lay motionless in her seat inside the smashed car.

Mr Sander’s hands caressed the glass screen, weeping quietly. He failed. He could not save her.

A sudden pain struck his heart. A heart attack.

The screen started replaying scenes from the day they first met in university. Their first kiss. Their wedding and Rose in the stunning white gown saying “I do” while gazing lovingly into his eyes. Mr Sanders smiled. He had the world given to him so early. He felt blessed to have had her.

A cold wind blew at his cheeks. A familiar voice whispered in his ears.

“Howard. I think it’s time to go, dear. “

As he starting gasping for air, his vision slowly faded to black . His hand prints dragged on the glass screen as he collapsed on the ground.

“Wait for me, my love.”

Story #2: Somewhere only we know

“Do you really have to leave?”, Sarah asked with tears in her eyes.

“I have no choice, Sarah.”

Seeing her like that made me not want to ever leave her side. However, being able to study overseas with all expenses paid by the school was extremely rare. I had no choice. It was for me, my family, education, and future with her. Sure, we were 16 and many think we’re too young to make decisions. But I spent enough time with her to know that she’s the girl I wanted to marry.

We were always together since we were born. Our mothers were best friends and naturally they always wanted us to get married in the end anyway. From kindergarten playpens to high school, we were inseparable.

Every night since we were 13, we would stay out late at an old playground just a few blocks away from our houses. Rusty swings, the smell of trees and grass, having sand stuck on our skin and the tingly feeling of ants crawling up our arms were all the things we embraced as we spent hours just talking about our day. The large elephant designed slide had a small hidden space enough for 2 people to be in. Despite the small space, it was always cooling and comforting to be in. I always thought it was because the company I had every night.

It was the day before I had to take my flight to America. I bought ice cream for the both of us. Double scooped chocolate was our favourite and we never failed to share a cup together each day we had a bad day or had something bothering us. Sharing ice-cream was our way of sharing our problems when we just could not talk about it.

Her hands gripped onto mine so tightly that at times we could feel each other’s pulse. Thoughts raced through my mind. How is she going to go on without me? Is she going to find someone new? Will I be able to murder that person without getting arrested?

“Eric, I want you to help me with something. A last request before you leave.”, her doe-like hazel eyes gazed at me. I simply nodded, not knowing what to expect.

She brought me to our usual spot. Sarah was always the neatest person I know so I figured she’d clean up the place today. The sun was setting and we were given a wonderful painting of pastel colors in the sky.

“I want you to read this letter when you reach home. Remember to visit me.”, she said and placed a folded note in my hand. I could hear her voice crack as she tried not to cry.

I opened my arms and pulled her closer for a hug. The smell of cherry blossom in her long brown hair lingered in my nose. We spent hours cuddled up and cozy but soon I had to leave first as I had to prepare for my departure. Sarah insisted on staying so I kissed her and left.

I proceeded in opening the note immediately upon reaching home. Teardrops dribbled down my cheek and landed on the pink strawberry scented paper.
I ran as fast as my legs could carry me back to the playground, only to discover I was too late.

The girl I wanted to marry lay motionless on the wooden floor. Her hair kept neatly behind her ears and eyes wide open. Scarlet red blood drenched her white dress and even seeped through every inch the wooden floors. Her wrists and abdomen were ravaged by her own insane slashing of a swiss army knife, The cuts were so deep that blood pooled up and continued trickling down her limbs. I held her in my arms, covered her body with my jacket and moved her away from the floors. I used my strength to open the wooden floors up and placed her fragile body inside. As I covered back the floors, I caught a glimpse of her pale face smiling up at me.



Years passed and indeed I became something I am proud of. I had a job that made it easy for me to retire at 40 if I ever wanted to and still have enough money for my luxuries. But every year I’d return to my hometown and squeeze under that large elephant shaped slide with a cup of double scooped chocolate icecream. I’d sleep on the floors comfortably as I could smell cherryblossom in the air and sometimes I’d feel her warmth. I’d also talk to her about what has been happening and before I fell asleep on the floors, I’d always hear her whispering ‘Goodnight.’.

Her note remains in my wallet till this very day. The strawberry scent never faded.


“ Dear Tommy,


When you read this I’ll be gone. But atleast I’d be with you always. I’ll be watching you from above(or below, teehee!) but I’m always in your heart.
Do me a favour and keep me nicely under our spot. I don’t like a messy place!
Be the best you can be and promise to always visit me. Remember that I don’t like chocolate chips in my ice cream!


Love, Sarah. ”

Story #1: Control

She was an enigma. No one really understood her. In fact, she didn't really understand herself either. Her only friend was her father, who was much too busy to spend time with her anymore after being appointed as Lead Surgeon. She came from a long line of wealthy and successful families. However, her father loved her and would do anything for her. He bought her dresses, make up, dolls and gadgets; literally given anything she ever wanted since birth. He also named her Darla; a shortened name for Darling. All her father asked of Darla is to be good and never leave him. He always emphasized on 'not leaving him' sternly so much so that Darla found it to be quite eerie at times.

As she grew older, Darla grew tired of restrictions. She became a rebel and hated being held back. Her behavior and attitude was looked down upon by other members of her family as it was not a 'prestigious' person's way. Being a teenager, Darla suffered numerous heartbreaks as many were scared of her family and the fact her father never approved of any relationship, made her become a strong misanthropist. She looked down at her pale white hands; fingers bony and long. She has done nothing in life. Nothing compared to her family's achievements. She felt useless, different, unwanted and insecure. Her silk-like blonde hair blew across her face as she looked down from the ledge of her school's rooftop. With her almond shaped eyes closed, she jumped off.

Bright lights stung her eyes. She thought she was supposed to be dead. She began thinking whether she was in heaven or hell. Slowly opening her eyes, it became clear she was back in her room. But why was she still alive? Why doesn't she feel any pain? These thoughts ran laps in her mind while she was staring into the air.

"Awake?', her father's voice echoed. But her father wasn't in the room. Suddenly she felt strong tugs at her limbs. Confused, she looked down at her body. Much to her horror, she noticed her body did not look the same anymore. Her joints are now made of screws and her skin resembled patchwork quilts, but only made of different skins stitched together. Her eyes teared up and she yelled "What did you do to me?!". The putrid smell of rotten and old skin on her own body engulfed her senses. Her uniform was drenched in blood and bits of unknown substances clinged onto the fabric.

"Didn't I tell you not to leave me?", her father replied and appeared behind her holding metallic threads attached to Darla's joints.

"Now you definitely won't be leaving me anymore."

Definitions

1 sentence pitch: a one sentence summary of is a good description of the plot, not the theme.

Log line: a sentence summary of a television program of film, often providing both a synopsis of the program's plot and an emotional 'hook' to stimulate interest.

Synopsis: a brief or condensed statement giving a general view of some subject.

Character bio: a detailed description or account of the character's life.

Storyline: the plot of a book or play or film (from start to end).

Scene breakdown: an intermediate step in the production of a play, film, comic book, or any other work that is originally planned. outline of a scene.

Beats: breadcrumbs. one event leads to an another event.

Plots: the order of events in a narrative or any other type of story.
Subplots: a secondary plot strand that is a supporting side story for any story or the main plot and may connect to main plots in either time, place or thematic significance.

Turning points: the point at which a very significant change occurs; a decisive moment.

Script: a written version of a play or other dramatic composition; used in preparing for a performance.



Climax: a moment of great intensity in the plot of literary work, generally bringing events to a head and leading to the conclusion.

Hook: a literary technique in the opening of a story that 'hooks' the reader's attention of that he/she will keep on reading.

Motive: an emotion, desire, physiological need, or similar impulse that acts as an incitement to action.

Conflict: a state of disharmony between incompatible or antithetical persons, ideas or interests; a clash.

Dramatic sequence: numerous sequence of events

Resolution: the state of being resolved or firm in opinion or thought; conviction; assurance.

Outcome: something that follows from an action, dispute, situation, etc. ; result; consequence


Paradigm: an outstandingly clear or typical example or archetype. a model or example or scheme/ diagram of what a screenplay is.

Class Writing #1

1. Think of 2 people you know.
2. Write down their character.
3. Put them in a situation.

Character A: Bob
Fair, tall, meaty.
Annoying, child-like, humorous, likes irritating people.
Easy-going but frequently annoys people for fun.

Character B: John
Tall and lean.
Nonchalant, sarcastic, headstrong.
Very straightforward, honest and people either like or dislike him.

Situation: 
Both of them are starving and upon reaching a hawker centre, they realize all the seats are taken except one with a mere tissue paper packet on the top of the table.

What would they do in such a situation:
Bob looked at the seats and whispered, "There's people reserving these seats already!". John frowned; very much annoyed with such 'Singaporean Auntie' behavior. John proceeded in flicking the tissue paper away and sat down as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Having no other option, Bob reluctantly sat down as well.

"So, what do you want to eat?", John asked.

"Don't know leh..", Bob responded in a mumble.

John decides to wait for Bob to think of something.

They both sat in awkward silence for minutes, only for their silence to be disrupted by a grumble of John's belly.

Running out of patience and having his hunger bothering him, John stormed off to buy his food first.

What is a story?

A story is a series of events taking place. It has a beginning and an ending. Stories vary in content; from fantasy to non-fiction. A story has powers to bring you and your senses to another land as big as your imagination would allow it to be. A story can make you feel someone else's emotions and feel their joy, pain or misery. Stories are products of an imaginative mind and a door to an alternate universe.