Realistic or Modern Everythings Totally Normal

[Tom-Pen]

I woke up to my mother's morning call, "Jackson, Jackson!"

"Coming!" I called back, sitting up in my bed. My head throbbed as my eyes squinted in the rays of light beaming through the window curtains. I had stayed up late the night before "studying" for a test. I really had been studying...trying anyway. I had gotten halfway through chapter 12 when I suddenly found myself suffering from a severe case of boredom. I tried to keep going, and push through, but it was too late for me, it was terminal. When my soul died my head fell onto the book with a thud, a strand of drool falling from my open mouth to the pages beneath. I laid there in defeat, moaning dully. I suppose I dragged myself into bed not long after that, but I can't remember for sure.

While I was taking care of my morning rituals - showering, finding something to wear (anything off the floor that didn't smell), brushing my teeth, ect - my mother called again. "You're late!" According to my watch, she was right.

I barreled down the stairs and into the dinning room, scooping up a plate of eggs as I went. By the time I reached the front door the eggs had been devoured. "Jackson!" I turned to see my mother standing by the dining table. I ran back to her, hugged her dearly (leaving the empty plate in her hands) and then bolted out the door. I heard her yell, "Love you!" I yelled back, "Love you too Mom!"

Outside I caught a glimpse of the school bus disappearing down the street, that was bad. Luckily I had a totally rad plan B.

What is Jackson's rad plan B?
1. A Skateboard.
2. A Bike.
3. A Pair of Rollerblades.

 

[Historical Storyteller]

2. A bike.

Let's get this show on the road, people!

 

[official clown business]

Uh, I think you meant to say skateboard, the raddest of Plan Bs.

But, that's okay, because the bike will get us there long before the school bus does.

 

[Historical Storyteller]

Uh, I think you meant to say skateboard, the raddest of Plan Bs.

But, that's okay, because the bike will get us there long before the school bus does.

Bikes can be badass too!

 

[elusivethought]

Let's bike it up!

Spoiler

 

[ViciousVip3R]

I see no reason to disagree. Bikes are the fastest mode of transportation out of the options, and they CAN be fun to ride!

 

[Historical Storyteller]

Tom-Pen , hey, dude, you there?

 

[Tom-Pen]

Tom-Pen , hey, dude, you there?

I am here, and working on the next part; should be up shortly.

 

[Tom-Pen]

I lifted open the garage door and went inside to retrieve my steed. She had been a glorious royal blue, and still was, though you could hardly tell with all the mud and dirt. I wouldn't have called her old, just... well used; but she was as fast as ever.

My father had gotten the bike for me three years prior, as a Christmas present. We were living in California at the time, "where it's always sunny, and every day's a good day to ride a bike," at least that's what my father said when he gave it to me anyway.

I picked up my helmet as I left the garage, hopped on my bike, and started down the street. Once I came to the end of the block I cut left down an ally. The ally dumped me out onto the main road. It was slightly down hill, so I could go fast, which I liked... a lot. By the time I came into town I was hauling, I didn't even need to pedal, I just stood up, leaned forward, and let momentum do its thing. When I was passing "Hank's Hardware" a car pulled out in front of me, I swung out wide, and just missed the front end of that car. I cut off another as I crossed the opposite lane. They both hit their breaks, and their horns. They sceetched and honked madly. My heart pounded in my chest. As I rode off down the sidewalk I looked back to see one of the drivers leaning out of his window yelling and waving his fist in the air.

After some dodging and weaving, and a few back yard shortcuts, I had made it to the other end of town, and almost to school. I was riding down the center of the road, feeling confident I would make it in time, when suddenly I heard a motorcycle coming from behind at full speed. It was junkyard motorcycle Frankensteined together, painted black, that sounded like a bat out of hell. The rider had on a black helmet that covered his face, and a red lettermen jacket with black sleeves. On the front of the jacket was a Large "M."

The biker revved up alongside me and flipped open his visor. It was Chad Loader, smiling at me like a hungry shark. School had been in session less than a week and, already, Chad had decided he didn't like me. "Nice bike loser!"

I didn't like him much either.

How does Jackson respond? (Pick one from each category)
Category A
1. Say nothing.
2. "Thanks, yours looks like shit."
3. "Leave me alone Chad."
4. "Wanna race?"

Category B
5. Keep riding.
6. Stop.
7. Ride on the dirt alongside the road.
8. Sprint away.

 

[ViciousVip3R]

(alley)
Category A
The only way Chad will leave us alone is if we stand up to him. With that being said, I don't think option 1 will suffice, 2 seems like it will do more to piss him off than get him to leave us alone and 4 seems like a recipe for failure. I'll go with 3.

Category B
We are late already so I don't think we can afford to stop, and I don't see what riding on the dirt will accomplish, so that leaves only two options. Keep riding is fine on it's own, but I would much rather see the look on Chad's face when we sprint away.

 

[official clown business]

Sorry, but I think 3 is exactly what Chad would love to hear. He's not gonna leave us alone.
It'll be more fun to go with... 4. Wanna see if that shitty excuse for a bike can take mine on, Chad?

Also, you do know that if you sprint away, you're not carrying the bike or riding it. You're literally abandoning your bike. We're going to pick 5, it's basically going to be "Wanna race, Cha-" but we've just gone full speed ahead and there's no way he catches up to us.