What Seriously Occurred at Lexington

            One day, countless long, long days ago, there was a peanut, a last memento of the American Revolution, of the fateful day the British Redcoats marched to Lexington to seize colonial arms.  That day, Bob Bobson was in his peanut field, picking peanuts when the distinguished Paul Revere stampeded past on a horse screaming, “The British are coming!  Beware the British humor!  The British are coming!  Beware the British humor!”

            Seeing Bob working diligently in his peanut field, Paul Revere paused.  “What are you doing in a peanut field, man?  Ain’t nuttin’ gonna grow in there!  Nut-in!  Get it?  Hahahaha!”  Bob, being unable to understand such humor, was quite overwhelmed by the fact that the British were coming and now he had to beware British humor.  Also, he was not particularly thrilled by the break in his tedious and monotonous day.  “I work all day in my peanut field,” he grumbled, “Hard work, too!  And now I have to be fastidious?  What on earth is the world coming to?!”  Bob Bobson II, his son, laughed uproariously at his father’s unintended pun, causing tumult to spread throughout the household.  Still grumbling, Bob stomped to the Lexington village green with his musket, along with his neighbors and others in the vicinity.

            Paul Revere rode around on his “My Little Pony Ô,” warning them all that the British were coming.  As the pounding of the British drums and the crimson flash of their uniforms slowly drew closer to the farms, Bob noted that the array of red-clad soldiers seemed to continue in an infinite river of scarlet… until it ended, of course.  Soon, General Thomas Gage, astride on his immense ivory steed, stopped in front of the armed farmers and barked, “We are here to inculcate to you who’s your daddy!  Don’t you dare brood, you recreant rebels, for you could never hope to contend with England or its succession of laudable generals and monarchs!  Come, now, don’t be morose, for we have agreed to present you with one whole dollar for the improvement of Lexington to compensate as a consolation prize!  We are compelled to take away your guns and stuff, though.”

            Silence greeted this speech except for Bob Bobson’s agitated mutterings of “How does this work?!”  Seriously annoyed, Bob threw his musket onto the dirt, with the muzzle pointing toward the Redcoats, and repeatedly jumped and stomped on it while yelling obscenities such as “stupid thing” and “bloody awful thing.”  Apparently, he had forgotten when he had been warned to exercise discretion and to refrain from attacking the British.  Needless to say, both the colonists and the British were shocked; however, it was quite arduous to discern which side was more surprised when there was an earsplitting BANG and Bob Bobson’s bullet shot a hole in a Redcoat’s tricorn hat.

            “My hat!” screeched the Redcoat, “My hair!  My hat!  My hair!”

            “Shaddap!” ordered his neighbor, “Yeh can get more powder fer yer stupid wig when we return to Boston!”

            Meanwhile, Bob Bobson, with more vehemence for his disobedient musket, continued stomping and had now moved to calling the poor gun names such as “nitwit,” “blubber face,” and “stupid, idiotic, useless thing,” while all others in the area stared in astonishment.

            “Hey,” realized the Redcoat who had been shot in the hat, “he fired a shot!”  To this day, nobody can recall who fired the second shot that traversed the Lexington village green.  When the dust had cleared and the shots had ceased, eight colonists were dead and ten others were wounded.  At the time, none knew what was the motive of the one who had fired the shot; however, the true story has been told to you today, and the peanut is a reminder of that day, for it was a peanut from the peanut farm of Bob Bobson, the peanut farmer in Lexington.  He had picked it that day before he traveled to the village green to defend his land against the British.

Author’s Note: Yeah, I wrote it for class.  Turned it in, too.  Haven’t gotten it back yet, though, so I can’t tell you what I got on it.  If you can guess the vocabulary words, or at least some of them, then you get an incredible feeling of glory and triumph.  Oh yay!  Flames are strictly laughed at (since most of them include odd misspellings and whatnot), especially since this story will not be changed in any way, shape, or form.  Have an ass-kicking jolly day!!!