Author's note:

Ok, per Margaret's recommendation, I'm here to write yet another chapter. It's weird, but apparently it's more of her philosophy. Do read.

Disclaimer:

I own nothing but myself. Everyone else owns themselves. Margaret owns the rest. Complain to her if anything offends you.

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River of Insanity: Part 2- teachers and hang-gliders... what's this?? A BRIDGE?!

As I mentioned, first and foremost in the first part, there seem to be some things that Margaret pondered later that she omitted to tell me. Thus, I have to write another part, so as to keep her happy and not hit me over the head with her books (see first part).

Well, continuing on with people drowning in the perilous waters of insanity therefore needing therapy, "creative" people, sane people and a certain unnamed person sitting on a rock. And... oh never mind.

We are going to compare more people to the River of Insanity. Here goes.

Anyway. Margaret has had a war with a somewhat nasty English teacher of ours who we all despise to high heaven. She's a brunette, she's short and the bottom line is, she's a complete crafty little cow who enjoys on marking you hard and seeing your misery at the low marks you get. So, Margaret gave her the most dangerous form of transportation: a hang-glider. Now, our English teacher (for the sake of things, let's call her Ms Davies, for that is her name), if she fell off this hang-glider could fall to a timely... I MEAN untimely death in the raging waters of insanity. But this is a GOOD thing. For she is Ms Davies, and we all despise her because she is the MECCA of all evil. But anyway.

What happens is, Gillian managed to capsize the boat. Margaret suspected she had a drill but she says she didn't. So now Margaret now suspects a cushion, two blades of grass, a dead ant, and possibly a cow. But we don't know where the cow came from. At the moment the boat was capsizing, Ms Davies serenely floated over head, almost looking like she was good at hang-gliding. But Katie, who has a brain, jumped miraculously high so that she managed to grab on to Ms Davie's foot and skim over the water so that she was dropped into the calm waters next to Melanie and Margaret who greeted her with wild abandon. Namely, Margaret hit her with a somewhat soggy book. And Melanie simply giggled insanely.

Amanda however, proved to swim rather well and grabbed Gillian by the hand and pulled her back up into the boat which Amanda had righted with her own hands. Then Gillian realised the coffee machine was not on the boat.

"Oh no!" She cried. "THE COFFEE MACHINE HAS GONE!" So she dived into the raging waters, showing an extreme talent for backstroke, despite her on going back injury. Surprisingly enough, latched on to the coffee machine and pulled it with amazing super heroic strength that can only happen once in a millennium when saving something you truly love. Andrew, who is another friend of ours, truly appreciative of coffee, swam up from his underground hole on smelling the coffee machine and like Gillian he latched on to it. Gillian was stronger and pulled him into boat with the coffee machine. He promptly fell asleep from the effort. He made the grand total of four sarcastic comments beforehand.

Then, Gillian's little sister, Megan, who is smart and resourceful, looked at the River of Insanity and got ideas. She pondered. She thought. She planned. Megan came up with a brilliant idea. Why not build a bridge? So, she did EXACTLY that. She got out her tools and she built a bridge, outsmarting her sister and walked nonchalantly across it to the other side where she became neither sane or insane and sat alone reading, commuting between both sides. Gillian however, became a bit peeved. Because her little sister cannot be smarter than her. So Gillian made explosives out of a lemon, a towel and a wicker basket. Oh and a spleen shaped piece of cardboard. So Gillian put them under the bridge, sailed away and the objects exploded, with Megan left on the bank she started from. She deserves it. Building a bridge is cheating.

I am still on the rock.

Ms Davies hates my guts enough to not save me. Figures. Bitch. Although, the moss is getting very slippery, apparently. I must be getting sappier. Oh well. It's all good, as I'm still sitting in solitude without my crazy friends cluttering my negative energy stream. Maybe I should vouch for the nickname, guardian of the river. So I can sound all that bit more important. I doubt I will get that nickname, being but the author of this story, but if I do it's another thing I can claim rights to. Which means, I will actually own a bit more of this weird, weird alternate universe that Margaret has created in her demented, yet very creative brain.

Which reminds me... speaking of negative energy... Where does Edward, Matiu and all rest of our friends stand? I'll have to ask Margaret for confirmation, after all this is HER philosophy. But for now I'm going to just guess.

Edward swam the rapids and climbed up on the insane bank and is now apparently a computer expert which is like an artist only better. Matiu is swimming the rapids too, and he's still in the deep part, but he'll get there, because he's swimming pretty strong and using a rational way of doing it. Let's call it: freestyle.

Now back to Courtney. Apparently I was wrong. I freely admit it, and it may be the only time I will do so. But anyway. Courtney didn't drown. She tunnelled underneath the River of Insanity using her brilliant organisational skills to hire labour so she could sit back and relax. She then walked to the light at the end of the tunnel which was the side of "creativity" and then took a leaf out of Gillian's book and she blew up the tunnel with Christmas tree, a dead cod and much happiness to trap everyone who wanted to get over there after her. She didn't like the bank of "creativity" and jumped in the calm patches beside the bank near Melanie, Margaret and Katie, but not quite that close because quite frankly they put her off with all the giggling. It seemed as if Gillian had made the grave mistake of passing Margaret a cup of coffee that was filled with a couple of kilos of sugar making Margaret as high as a kite. Gillian would be kicking herself for this if she was not as high as a kite on the same substance herself and arguing with an even higher Andrew about the fine points of the word game coffee pot because that is their favourite game.

I, am still on the rock and have not yet gained 'guardian of the River' status.

Ho hum. I'll just sit here and wait a bit.

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Oh dear. What are we going to do with Margaret? She is truly odd. Oh well... people change... things change... hopefully she might change... although I doubt it. Besides, we don't really want her to just for now, as I haven't seen her drunk yet. Now that would be a sight to see...