What a disappointment. I've always thought that if the school was ever under attack, whether by a storm, shooting, or fictional creature, it would have to be grand. It would have to be a massive, scandalous, unheard, unseen, uncalled-for surprise, an event no duller than whatever gives the average middle-aged teacher a heart attack. This anticipated attack must be drastically dramatic, hopelessly hazardous, and, naturally, news-worthy.
But this? Really? This is painfully plain. This "event" or so-called "attack" has the lead role of Lackluster, the Lazy Lump. What gives?
Dear Monster,
Can't you see We've been waiting for you our entire lives? Well, the entire school year, at least. You see, as a student body, we have been lacking a curious term other kids like to call "amusement." Amusement went missing many years before us, and unfortunately his whereabouts are unknown. We hoped that you, dear Monster, would be so kind as to restore that for us.
You have disappointed us yet again.
So dull. Your entrance was so dull, dumb, dorky. We anticipated danger. Damage. Derring-do. Our restless teenage spirit was not satisfied. What does one broken window cost? Not enough to fill our hunger. Couldn't you have done better?
Gone in the blink of an eye. What were YOU afraid of, Monster?
Try better next time,
Your dying fans,
The Students
Dear Dying Fans,
Dear Students.
It hass come to my attentionsss
That you were not ssatisssfied
But I have got to mention
One more thing. I have not lied
About my giving you a show
That dreary, ssschool-day afternoon...
If you really want to know,
Open the cracked-window-door sssoon...
You will find a sssight
Quite dreadful to the eye
You do not know my might
And you'll never again ssigh
Be careful what you wish for...
Yours,
The Monster