This stories going to be published next year! YAY! But I can leave it up til then.

If you liked this, please check out my other stories. This is getting tons of reviews, but my poor other ones are lonely...

I shifted my backpack straps on my shoulder, frowning down at the well-worn carpet. It was decorated in some sort of geometric pattern, either spiders or airplanes; it was hard to tell.

I had never liked the airport much, and this visit was not helping. I was still waiting in line for the metal detector, and had been for the past half hour. A toddler behind me whined constantly, an old lady kept blowing her nose in my ear, and a girl about my age behind me had on headphones with music blaring loud enough to blow out not only hers, but also my eardrums.

But I was nearing the front of the line, and I began to pull off my ragged Converse in anticipation. I had emptied a few dozen coins from my pockets into a plastic bin and swung my laptop bag onto the metal monstrosity that was an x-ray machine, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw a burly security man with an…interesting…handlebar moustache.

"This way, miss," he growled, "random bag search." I shoved my coins back into my pockets, grabbed my laptop bag, and sprinted after him. Barefoot.

He led me to a dazzlingly shiny metal table over on the far wall. "Empty the contents of your bag here, please," he requested. I clutched my backpack to my chest protectively.

"Are you crazy? It took me forever to pack so it'll take me forever to unpack and it'll take me even longer to repack and then I'll be late to my flight, so I'll miss my layover in Atlanta and have to take a new flight to Orlando and miss my cousin's wedding!" The security guard sighed, and I finally saw that he wore a nametag reading 'Arnold.'

"Excuse me, but this is mandatory. If you don't allow us to search your bag, we'll simply confiscate it."

No! He couldn't take my bag! I needed my kitchen shears!

"Whatever. Search the darn bag," I said, feeling tiny and insignificant. I zipped open my backpack and held it out for Arnold. He reached in it and pulled out a can of Silly String.

"This is a liquid. I'm sorry, but we'll need to dispose of it." Clearly, he'd rehearsed this many times.

"NOOOOO! You can't do that!" I shrieked. "I need it…for religious reasons!" Arnold raised a dark, bushy eyebrow.

"You worship Silly String?" he asked skeptically. I smiled quickly.

"Of course! Who doesn't?" He looked like he was about to drop it in the trash can, so I quickly added, "Really, do I look like a terrorist to you? No! I'm just a sixteen-year old girl who likes Silly String!"

He rolled his eyes and tossed it in the evil trash can anyway, despite my lovely Bambi eyes. I howled in anguish.

"This is sooo unfair! I'm being treated like a TERRORIST and all I wanted to do is Silly String the flight attendant! Is that so wrong? Where's your boss? I need to file a complaint!" Arnold smirked and continued rifling through my bag. The next thing he pulled out was a yo-yo. It went straight to the trash, of course, because the Chinese used it as a murder weapon back in the day.

Despite my complaints, most of my things went in the trash. Not only including my yo-yo and Silly String, but my nail file, sparkle toothpaste, cowbell, flashlight, squirt guns, and Already Been Chewed gum collection were properly disposed of.

With a considerably lighter backpack and a cheerful smile, Arnold told me that I could get back in line now.

The sad thing was, he sent me straight to the back.

Haha, I love how I put this under "Tragedy". Because it so totally is.

This is another one that I had to write in 34 minutes (then later spent another 5 minutes editing.)

Does it show? I hope not...let me know in a review! PLEASE!