To be read, preferable out-loud, in one breath, without taking a pause…
“Look Out, here comes our new Teacher, Mr. Strictly!” exclaimed fourth-grader, Toby McCarthy, Jnr.
Wearing a pair of dung-colored, crooked and cracked, and quite predictably heavy-framed spectacles, while sporting a messy mop of mushy hair that had a Yoda-like musty quality closely resembling a pile of two-week-old abandoned Sunday New York Times Art Sections that had been left out in the rain one downpour too many, and despite his mother having tried to keep the poor boy’s fringe in one place with fistfuls of her cheap and ever-so grossly pungent brand of hair-gel, called “The Best Head a Girl Can Get”, a jar of which she won at a recent girls mini-bachelorette party ‘down the’ Jersey Shore with her friends Tracy and Joella during a particularly nasty and embarrassing evening at a sensationally sticky-floor joint known locally as, “Buns of Steele“, featuring thong-clad Adonis’ complete with red bow-ties and Mr. Clean-like sparkly pecs, and now having been finally urged-on by his new class-room buddies, the still slightly reluctant fourth grader, Toby McCarthy Jnr., quipped sheepishly, “What’s all this flour on your shirt and on your hands Teacher Strictly” to which Mr. Strictly replied, “Mr. McCarthy, let me explain something to you”.
…to be continued.