Partner+Writing++2010-2011

=Thanksgiving Partner Stories Using the Comma Rules=

**Not a Normal Thanksgiving** Caroline and Kinnera 11/3/10 Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday of the year was just around the corner, and my family was going to host dinner for my mom’s side of the family for the first time. Yes, my house at 4231 River Laurel Trace, Suwanee, Georgia would welcome all of my aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. It was going to be a big, chaotic event, but we would enjoy every minute.

My special job was to help my mom set the tables the night before Thanksgiving. We were excited to put out the shiny, golden china plates and cups that we only used for the very special occasions. We had thirty places to set, at three different tables around the dining room. In fact, I was especially excited because this year I would get to sit with my favorite cousin, Emily, and I would help cook all the food.

“Sarah,” my mother said, “can you please set out all the dinner plates? I will put out the silverware, and then we will put on the napkins and place card holders.” On the tops of the tables, we set out colorful bouquets, and we stood back to look at our beautifully decorated tables. After my mother and I finished setting the tables, we made sure everything was ready for the next morning. We had the turkey ready for the oven, we had the stuffing ready, the bowls and serving spoons were out, and all of the Pilgrim salt and pepper shakers were full. We were ready for all the chaos the next morning!

That night I had added the finishing touches on all I had to do, but I had a funny feeling when I woke up that the day was not going to go as easy as we planned. We watched the parade as we started cooking the food. My mom’s family started arriving around 1:00 in the afternoon. My aunt Susan brought salad and fruit. Then we had snacks while my mom and my grandmother had everything cooked and ready for the table. The smells of the turkey began to drift through the house. Beginning with my Uncle Bob, the whole family piled in the kitchen wanting a little slice. They couldn’t wait!

“The food is almost ready,” my mom said excitedly. Just then, the timer beeped and my mom took out the steaming, hot turkey; but at that very moment, the perfectly browned, good smelling turkey burst into flames.

“What’s happening?” I screamed.

“I don’t know!” yelled my mother. “Someone get some water!” Then, of course, the fire became bigger and bigger until half of my kitchen was covered in burning, hot flames.

“This is just great!” I yelled over the chaos and screaming. My relatives all ran out the front door, as the fire truck raced down the street and brought out their hoses to put out the flames.

The fire was out, but, unfortunately, the dinner was soaking wet and pretty smoky after all the fire. We had to eat, so my Uncle Bob, who is the best at making us all laugh, suggested we go to a restaurant. We ended up at my dad’s favorite Chinese restaurant, all thirty of us. It wasn’t the Thanksgiving we were expecting, and we didn’t have turkey, but we would all remember that Thanksgiving forever.

** Turkey War I ** Andy S. and Matthew G.   11/9/10 This story tells of a tale of a battle between turkeys and many brave, courageous people. In the center of Commasburg, Punctoslovakia, the almighty, powerful Comma King sat down to enjoy his delicious Thanksgiving feast. This scrumptious meal consisted of one hundred twenty-nine turkeys, thirty-seven pounds of mashed potatoes, and two cans of peas. The feast, of course, was for everybody living in Commasburg. The Comma King’s favorite holiday was Christmas, but he thought Thanksgiving was okay, too. He thanked the hard workers, the farmers, for growing all the vegetables and raising the turkeys. The king’s royal guards, the strongest of them all, stood guard for everyone eating turkey.

Over four hundred miles away through the dense woods, turkeys about to be slaughtered on a farm plotted to throw a rebellion against Thanksgiving and its horrors of eating turkey meat. They even wrote a letter to be sent to the Comma King. It read, “People of Earth, We are tired of being eaten and slaughtered, so we will rebel and fight for our kind. Yours truly, Turkeys.” The message was carried for days and was finally given to the King. When it finally reached the castle, everyone was enraged by the letter. It was not the best time for war. The king sent a messenger to the turkeys to try to negotiate a treaty. The poor messenger, who was very cowardly, did not return. The King said, “Royal guard, go alert everyone that we are waging war against the turkeys.” The guard, of course, immediately left to obey the king. Yes, everyone was disturbed, but they would all give a valiant effort in the battle. After everyone left from the feast, the King sat down to think. Why did the turkeys not attack before?

The turkeys started to prepare for battle. They would invade Commasburg on December 2, 2010. The huge mass of turkeys marched to Commasburg, Punctoslovakia, to destroy their predators. As soon as Commasburg was in sight, many turkeys were dying off. The people of Commasburg had prepared and were fighting back viciously. Turkeys charged from a hill, and more turkeys charged from the other side. Then someone came up with a brillant idea. Why don’t we eat ham instead? Everyone shouted the idea until the turkeys who were still fighting could hear. They liked the idea. A peace treaty was formed which stated that people should eat ham for Thanksgiving from then on.

Epilogue The people of Commasburg lived happily with the turkeys, who started living in the city. Many miles away, pigs were planning to wage war against everyone eating ham on Thanksgiving. When the people of Commasburg heard of this, they thought, “Here we go again.”

**Bob, Pablo, and the Magical Merchant** Danielle S. and Cash C. 11/3/10 There once was a lacrosse player, a turkey, and a magical turkey merchant. Bob was a voluptuous, strong lacrosse player. He carried his lacrosse stick everywhere. Thanksgiving was two weeks away, and Bob wanted to buy a live turkey this year. Arriving at the supermarket, Bob saw a shop named The Magical Turkey Merchant next door. From the door of the store, Bob could see turkeys everywhere! Bob, amazed by the horde of turkeys, was greeted by a gnome-like midget.

“Hi! How are you? Could I interest you in some turkeys for Thanksgiving?” said the eager merchant.

“Sure! I would love that! Give me the fastest one you have!” said Bob. The merchant led Bob over to a cage with the largest turkey he had ever seen. “I’ll take him!” approved Bob. The merchant handed Bob a cage with the turkey and a small envelope.

Bob arrived at his house and read the letter. It stated, November 12, 2010, This is not any normal turkey. Sincerely with my best wishes on your life, The Magical Merchant.

“Well, that’s just great!” Bob yelled. “What am I going to do with this turkey? He’s not normal.”

“Bob, don’t kill me,” said the turkey.

“What was that? I guess it was my imagination,” Bob said.

“No, it wasn’t your imagination,” said the turkey. “I’m from Turkeyville, a city in an alternate universe. Everyone in the town, who slowly began to dislike me, were turkeys. Our universe is a cannibalistic universe. For example, I eat turkeys. By the way, I’m Pablo.” Bob went into complete shock and ran out the door.

Bob spent the next two days at his best friend’s house. After Bob came over his fears, he decided it was time to confront Pablo. Bob walked into his house, and the turkey was sitting on a LaZBoy recliner reading the newspaper.

“Can I help you?” Pablo said.

“This is a really weird situation, but I’m sorry I ran away,” Bob said apologetically.

“The only way you can make up for it is to not kill me and let me live with you.”

“I guess it will be okay,” said Bob.

On Thanksgiving Bob and Pablo are sitting at the table with a feast in front of them. “Would you like some turkey, Pablo?” said Bob.

“Sure, stuff me up!”

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!

** I’m Dead… Literally!! **  Maheen and Vishaal    11/3/10 I don’t understand humans or their ideas that turkeys need to be killed on Thanks giving. I mean, we have lives, too, you know! I’m going to run far, far, far away to Las Vegas. I live in California, the heart of killing turkeys, so it may take a while. Hmmm, well, maybe I can hitch a ride on a truck? The people who own the truck might get very excited and not just the Oh-look-there’s-an-adorable-turkey-sitting-on-the-back-of-my-truck excited, but the Oh-look-there’s-a-little-turkey-sitting-on-the-back-of-our-truck-let’s-kill-it-and-make-soup-out-of-it-so-we-can-be-thankful-for-a-reason-I-don’t-get kind. Well, it’s worth the risk. I’ll be in luck if I can find a truck in the first place.

After a very long time, I found a truck that was completely filled with goodies. It was a real turkey magnet. Cornbread, strawberries, apples, corn, you name it, they had it. I almost fainted when I saw it! Quickly, I hopped on the curb and into the truck. People who assume turkeys are bad jumpers are totally wrong, just to let you know. We can jump, we just don’t like to flaunt our abilities like leopards or cheetahs do. I stared at the cornbread and wondered if it would be very wrong of me to take some. I could hear my good side, the angel, telling me not to because the people who owned it worked very hard for it. I had to admit that my bad side made more sense because it was telling me that since humans don’t appreciate turkeys, why should we honor the food they make? It was common knowledge, of course, so I decided to go with that, and it was my biggest mistake.

As I was eating, I didn’t realize the direction the truck was going. We ended up in the last place I wanted to be. . . back to the farm I originally came from. I tried to hide, but most of the cornbread was gone, so I tried to hide behind corn, but it rolled away. Then they saw me. The farmer’s wife, Marjorie, grunted, “Huh, look at this fat one, John. Won’t it make a fine stew for tonight?”

Gulp.

= = = = = = =Partner Stories=

The students had to work with partners to write stories about interesting pictures they brought in.
= Sky Diving = = Josh and Kavya =

9/1/10
//Don’t do it.// That’s what my mind was telling me. I could still back down, but I decided I was going to do it. I was going to jump. I took a deep breath. Then I finally decided not to jump, but I jumped anyway. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was simply falling. My mind was racing. I pulled the string on my parachute and suddenly I was floating, not falling. Suddenly I was falling again. //What was happening?// I looked up and saw a hole in my parachute. I looked below and saw that I was gaining speed. I was right above a flag pole. Then I stopped.

That night, I couldn't sleep at all. //Who would be able to. . .?// After all I was five stories above ground, and I was as cold as would as if I were under the Arctic Ocean. I eventually slept for an hour. I thought that someone would surely see me in the morning.

I woke with a start and looked below to see people going on with their everyday lives. I reached into my pocket pulled out some coins and threw them down trying not to hit anyone. It landed in front of a little boy with dark hair. He pointed up at me while talking to his mom. I saw his mom quickly dial a number on her phone.

A few minutes later, a fire engine came out of nowhere. The firefighters rushed up to the building, and just as I heard my parachute ripping, they tossed me a rope that I gratefully grabbed. As they pulled me up, they lost control of the rope. They let go and let me fall to the. ..

I woke up to find myself in my own bed. Thank goodness it was all just a dream.



8/31/10
At exactly 3:30 a.m., a girl named Bella Stewart was born. A mother was about to die. She was with the President of the United States.

“Is it safe?” she asked the President panting between breaths.

“Yes. It is at the White House,” said the President.

“Tell her. . .” and those were the last words the mother said.

Sixteen years passed, and Bella was now a teenager. She lived with her grandparents in Nevada. Her grandparents were not the loving, humble kind. They were mean and selfish grandparents who treated Bella like a servant.

One day Bella received a letter from her teacher saying that they were going to Washington, D.C., for a field trip. Bella packed her bags not knowing that this trip might be the most dangerous trip ever taken by a high school student.

She arrived in D.C. by plane on Tuesday. Her plan was to go to the White House that night and stay in the Jefferson Suite. As she was unpacking her clothes, she saw a picture of a woman holding a baby in the hospital. The woman looked extremely sick but proud. //Maybe she was keeping her hopes up by remembering that she had a baby to take care of,// Bella thought. As Bella studied the picture, she realized the woman looked exactly like her. Bella opened the cabinet to put her clothes away, and that is when she saw the diary.

She stared at it in disbelief. //Wow//, she thought to herself, //what in the world is this?// Bella opened up the diary. It read,

May 1981. I am on my way to government to give him the package.

Bella turned the page.

June 1981. I am in a cave to uncover the secrets of the Mayan.

Bella turned the page to the front of the diary hoping to find the name of the person who owned it. Unfortunately, it was blank. In frustration she threw the diary to the ground and out slipped a picture. The picture was the same picture as the one on the dresser. Out of curiosity she took the picture on the dresser out of its frame and looked on the back of the picture. It read: Elizabeth Ann Stewart, her mother’s name.