English essay - Flippie du Plessis

The telephone rang. John Sebastian the Second jerked with the sound of it. His hand was shaking as he picked it up. "Y.e.e.sss?" he stuttered.

"If you want to see your son alive again, you must give us five million Rand. We don't want any police. Bring the money in a suitcase with black polkadots. Place it in a green rubbish bin on the corner of 24th street and Madiba Avenue."

"Is my son alive?" Sebastian shouted. The telephone was dead in his hands.

Sebastian heard a sound outside and as he approached the front door, it burst open and in stormed a few soldiers of the elite anti-tourist force, the Navy Cows. They got a hit on a rich American tourist today so they were very happy.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sebastian.

"We heard you had problems!" the leader replied. Sebastian noticed his big bull horns on his helmet.

"Well, I did not expect a bunch of wannabe cows to storm through my front door."

"We're all you've got!" the leader Moemin replied.

"Okay, lets go," Sebastian said.

They found a very big red case with polkadots and squeezed one of the smaller cows into it. Everyone jumped into the Hornmobile and moved down Madiba Avenue towards the corner.

Meanwhile Crusty the Clown, the unknown kidnapper, was making his own preparations since he had heard the Navy Cows were in town. He prepared his waterballoon-cannon and filled his ketchup and mustard guns. He was on the roof of a building overlooking the corner. Behind him sat the boy, with a giant banana in his mouth and his hands tied behind his back.

The Hornmobile approached the corner. Luckily they could stay unnoticed since the big horns on the roof did not attract much attention. They chased past the corner, dumping the bag through the back door, disregarding the fact that their teammate was inside. They raced on to go and hide and wait for the call from the Cowman in the bag.

"I see him, it's the Clown" the soldier said on the radio, as he was peering through a hole in the bag.

The Clown moved closer to the bag, ketchup gun cocked and ready. "This will really soil his clothes," the Clown thought with a snicker. He had seen the horn sticking out from the bag.

The Clown retreated and fired at point blank range. "Noooo!" came a shout from behind. A giant Cowman came running towards the clown, unslinging his milkgun in the run. He fired from the hip, spraying the clown with the rich creamy milk you find in a Magnum.

"Nooo, you're ruining my make-up," shouted the Clown, and attacked the cow. Standing on tip-toe, the clown tweaked the Cowman's nose. The Cowman squeaked and reached out and pulled the clown's fake, red nose back on its rubber band and let it shoot back against the clown's face, busting his nose.

"Stop, stop this vicious fighting!" Sebastian came running. "This is not necessary. I realized that I can always make a new son. You don't have to fight. Crusty, you can have my son. And Mr. Cowman, thank you for your help but I can take it from here."

"Oh, you bastard," replied the Cowman and the Clown. "So unfeeling and rude, take that!" the Cowman and the Clown attacked the father, spraying him with milk and ketchup until he looked like the wrong diet.

"We will adopt him," said the Cowman to the Clown. They lived happily ever after in their own little birdcage, but I don't know why they called their house "The Birdcage".

Teacher's comment:

Fluently written and amusing in places, Flippie, but really not convincing and somewhat unoriginal. (Sounds like a mixture between a Bart Simpson cartoon and a Hillbilly film!)

C+/3

38/70