Mr.+Flop-Calvin+K.

Mr. Flop By Calvin K.

Page One: Mr. Flop lived in a mushroom house near the edge of the sloth jungle. His neighbors were nocturnal, (so they slept during the day) but that was fine with him, because he often took naps at that time, anyway. But since he didn’t have a job (none of his neighbors had jobs, either), his mushroom house had been in need of repair. The insides of it were rotted, and sopping wet, but he didn’t mind, because as long as it didn’t get his hammock wet, he had no reason to do anything about it.

Page Two: Mr. Flop’s stomach growled, as it often did when he took a nap before lunch, which was nearly every day. So, tired and frumpish, he floppishly found the fridge. Yet, when he opened it, the fridge was bare. Not to worry, he thought. I’ll just check the cupboards. But again, when he opened it, there was scarcely a speck to be seen. Again and again, he checked everywhere in his entire mushroom abode, but he didn’t even find a crumb. So, he stepped outside, being determined to find the store, but there was an immediate problem.

Page Three: You see, in Mr. Flop’s house, since the floors were so spongy, it was like a trampoline, soft and bouncy, but outside, there was no bounce at all, and Mr. Flop’s poor limbs were so underused that it was all but impossible for him to even stand up. But, being determined to get his food (to cure the aching in his belly) he sallied on forth, having absolutely no idea what direction he was he was heading in, but he kept at it, and soon he found a very interesting looking house. It had monkey bars and trampolines and a jungle gym on its mushroom roof. It also had a swing set, a stationary bicycle and an outdoor pool. It looked very intriguing, so he walked up and knocked on the door.

Page Four: When the door opened, he saw a very peculiar man. The man was thin and straight, but he looked like he could be floppish if he wanted to be. “Excuse Me,” asked the man, “Do you need something?” “Not really” Mr. Flop said, “But I could use a little direction” by a little direction, Mr. Flop meant a lot. “That’s easy” explained the man, “Just as long as you know where to go” “To the store” Mr. Flop remarked irritably, “Why else would anyone get out of the house?” “Well, for a lot of reasons” the man procrastinated. “Name one,” challenged Mr. Flop. “Why, to take a walk, of course” explained the man, a little evasively.

Page Five: Mr. Flop was bamboozled. “Why would anyone go outside to walk when you can do it inside?” Mr. Flop questioned. “Why, to exercise, of course” the man coddled with the idea of it, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and that even the lowest baboons in the sloth jungle could explain the definition in their sleep (they sleep more than when they are awake). Unfortunately, Mr. Flop was not one of those low baboons, so he had absolutely no idea what exercise was. And so he asked “But what’s exercise?” Looking at Mr. Flop’s appearance, he said “Something you should try. Here, I’ll take you to the gym. And off they went, Mr. Flop still being as unwilling and hungry as ever.

Page Six: So the man took Mr. Flop to the gym, no matter how unwilling Mr. Flop was. “But I just wanted to find the store” Mr. Flop explained, but the man paid him no attention, so Mr. Flop settled with being silent, also. After the exhausting trip of getting out of the jungle, and finally making it to the gym, Mr. Flop was tired out, while the man seemed like he had done absolutely nothing to convince his body to walk nearly 50 miles without effort (or, at least, that was what Mr. Flop thought. At the gym, a strong looking man greeted them. “Why, hello, Mr. Flip. Who’s your guest?” Mr. Flip? Mr. Flop thought, my name is just like that. “He’s Mr. Flop,” said Mr. Flip. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Flop, I’m Coach.” Mr. Flop was still wheezing, so he could barely answer anything. “Mr. Flop here,” said Mr. Flip “Wants, no, needs to exercise” “For the competition?” asked Coach. Mr. Flop wheezed something unfathomable. “Alright then, OK, I guess.” Said Coach. He assumed the hacking as a yes. “Wwwwhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttt?” Mr. Flop exclaimed.

Page Seven: Mr. Flop had never entered anything, ever, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Over the course of the next few days, he trained nonstop, but he accomplished nearly nothing at all, and finally, after four whole weeks of training, he looked the exact same, and he had seemingly developed no muscles at all. So Mr. Flop decided to quit. “No, but you can’t stop now!” begged Coach, but Mr. Flop didn’t care. And you know what? He decided that noone could make him do anything he didn’t want to do. Unless it was with his friends, because, even though it takes years to train for the competition, He won.

Mr. Flop By Calvin K.

Page One: Mr. Flop lived in a mushroom house near the edge of the sloth jungle. His neighbors were nocturnal, (so they slept during the day) but that was fine with him, because he often took naps at that time, anyway. But since he didn’t have a job (none of his neighbors had jobs, either), his mushroom house had been in need of repair. The insides of it were rotted, and sopping wet, but he didn’t mind, because as long as it didn’t get his hammock wet, he had no reason to do anything about it.

Page Two: Mr. Flop’s stomach growled, as it often did when he took a nap before lunch, which was nearly every day. So, tired and frumpish, he floppishly found the fridge. Yet, when he opened it, the fridge was bare. Not to worry, he thought. I’ll just check the cupboards. But again, when he opened it, there was scarcely a speck to be seen. Again and again, he checked everywhere in his entire mushroom abode, but he didn’t even find a crumb. So, he stepped outside, being determined to find the store, but there was an immediate problem.

Page Three: You see, in Mr. Flop’s house, since the floors were so spongy, it was like a trampoline, soft and bouncy, but outside, there was no bounce at all, and Mr. Flop’s poor limbs were so underused that it was all but impossible for him to even stand up. But, being determined to get his food (to cure the aching in his belly) he sallied on forth, having absolutely no idea what direction he was he was heading in, but he kept at it, and soon he found a very interesting looking house. It had monkey bars and trampolines and a jungle gym on its mushroom roof. It also had a swing set, a stationary bicycle and an outdoor pool. It looked very intriguing, so he walked up and knocked on the door.

Page Four: When the door opened, he saw a very peculiar man. The man was thin and straight, but he looked like he could be floppish if he wanted to be. “Excuse Me,” asked the man, “Do you need something?” “Not really” Mr. Flop said, “But I could use a little direction” by a little direction, Mr. Flop meant a lot. “That’s easy” explained the man, “Just as long as you know where to go” “To the store” Mr. Flop remarked irritably, “Why else would anyone get out of the house?” “Well, for a lot of reasons” the man procrastinated. “Name one,” challenged Mr. Flop. “Why, to take a walk, of course” explained the man, a little evasively.

Page Five: Mr. Flop was bamboozled. “Why would anyone go outside to walk when you can do it inside?” Mr. Flop questioned. “Why, to exercise, of course” the man coddled with the idea of it, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and that even the lowest baboons in the sloth jungle could explain the definition in their sleep (they sleep more than when they are awake). Unfortunately, Mr. Flop was not one of those low baboons, so he had absolutely no idea what exercise was. And so he asked “But what’s exercise?” Looking at Mr. Flop’s appearance, he said “Something you should try. Here, I’ll take you to the gym. And off they went, Mr. Flop still being as unwilling and hungry as ever.

Page Six: So the man took Mr. Flop to the gym, no matter how unwilling Mr. Flop was. “But I just wanted to find the store” Mr. Flop explained, but the man paid him no attention, so Mr. Flop settled with being silent, also. After the exhausting trip of getting out of the jungle, and finally making it to the gym, Mr. Flop was tired out, while the man seemed like he had done absolutely nothing to convince his body to walk nearly 50 miles without effort (or, at least, that was what Mr. Flop thought. At the gym, a strong looking man greeted them. “Why, hello, Mr. Flip. Who’s your guest?” Mr. Flip? Mr. Flop thought, my name is just like that. “He’s Mr. Flop,” said Mr. Flip. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Flop, I’m Coach.” Mr. Flop was still wheezing, so he could barely answer anything. “Mr. Flop here,” said Mr. Flip “Wants, no, needs to exercise” “For the competition?” asked Coach. Mr. Flop wheezed something unfathomable. “Alright then, OK, I guess.” Said Coach. He assumed the hacking as a yes. “Wwwwhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttt?” Mr. Flop exclaimed.

Page Seven: Mr. Flop had never entered anything, ever, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Over the course of the next few days, he trained nonstop, but he accomplished nearly nothing at all, and finally, after four whole weeks of training, he looked the exact same, and he had seemingly developed no muscles at all. So Mr. Flop decided to quit. “No, but you can’t stop now!” begged Coach, but Mr. Flop didn’t care. And you know what? He decided that noone could make him do anything he didn’t want to do. Unless it was with his friends, because, even though it takes years to train for the competition, He won.