Once upon a time there was a little girl. She had on a lovely dress she had gotten that morning for her birthday. Her father was one of the richest men in all the land, to her at least. He owned a common shop, a bakery/smithery. The dress was a light pink and very light weight. Being in a land where winter was practically non-existant this worked very nicely for her.
She was playing very nicely in the feild next to her house. She twirled, ran about, bounced all the while giggling like mad. She continued in this action, celebrating her father's gift when she tripped over a protruding root. She let out a little yelp and rubbed her knee tears filling her eyes. She looked up to find help and there stood a little boy. His little fists were on his hips and he had a horrible mean look on his face. When he said......
(someone else take it up! preferably the next person to read this)
..."serves you right," she began to actually cry - which only made him laugh.
Until his feet left the ground, as her father picked him up by the back of his shirt. "I'll give you to the count of two to get out of my sight," he told the boy, "or I'll serve you right."
He tossed the kid aside, and turned to his daughter.
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It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
She sniffed and looked down at her dress to find it covered in mud.
"Daddy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was being careful and, and I fell and, I'm sorry daddy." She cried, running her fingers over the soiled dress.
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He slapped her across the face. Blood shot out of her mouth and she fell down hard on the mud. "I TOLD YOU, don't get your BRAND NEW DRESS DIRTY! What is WRONG with you? I'm sorry, did I hurt your cute little face," he taunted.
Location: None of your Damn buisiness! Or California.
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Whatever do you mean, Zelda?
"It's okay, my daughter," exclaimed the father who held his daughter close. "Together, we can conquer worlds." He waved his hand glamorously over the sky, and then they both went home in their cardboard box between Macy's and JCPenney.
Her father looked into her tear filled eyes and then laughed his great big booming laugh. With great big laughter-tears he picked her up and swung her around.
"What are dresses for anyway." He said to her as he plopped her down on the ground. "Just you don't go worrying on your birthday young lady," he said in as stern a voice as he could with a big grin covering his face. With that he patted her head and walked off to his crosant baking and horseshoe making day.
After her father's little speach, for fathers never just talk but always give speaches, she pushed up her sleeves and decided to go show that boy what for.
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