THIS IS A WORK-IN-PROGRESS!
I am actually writing this novel directly in this website, starting with the first draft.
It's my first time writing in this way so please excuse any typos, formatting issues, or other first-draftish type problems.
That being said, also feel free to follow along with the story as it develops, drop comments, and let me know what you think!
I am actually writing this novel directly in this website, starting with the first draft.
It's my first time writing in this way so please excuse any typos, formatting issues, or other first-draftish type problems.
That being said, also feel free to follow along with the story as it develops, drop comments, and let me know what you think!
CHAPTER ONE - NATHAN
Dear National Association of Construction People,
I would like to file a formal complaint against one of your members.
I’m not sure what his name is so for the purposes of this letter let’s just call him “Carl” since that sounds like a name a construction person would have. Or “Chuck”. Whichever. The point is that Carl, or whatever made up name he’s going by, was not only very rude to me, but he is also in complete violation of the Construction Worker’s Code of Conduct.
I don’t have a copy of the Code of Conduct at the moment as the town library was recently flooded after being burned to the ground. I also don’t have internet access to look it up online as my parents have forbidden me from having any electronic devices due to what they think is an unhealthy obsession with an app called Fartial Recognition. It uses artificial intelligence and works the same way as facial recognition, except instead of taking a picture of a person’s face and telling you who it is, you take a picture of a person’s butt and it tells you what kind of fart noises they are likely to make.
The app was free but there was something called in-app purchasing that must have been in really tiny print because I didn’t see it. And the app only came with something like a hundred fart noises which, given the wide range of butt’s in the world nowhere near enough. So I had to order more fart noises which, apparently, cost something like $4.99 each. Long story short the app company wasn’t willing to refund my seven thousand dollars of extra in app purchases so my parents took my tablet device away.
This means that I don’t have a copy of the Construction Worker’s Code of Conduct in front of me, but I am pretty sure that I read it somewhere once and it clearly stated that if someone is building your house that they have to put in whatever rooms or extra stuff that you want. No questions asked.
Carl, however, is not doing any of the work that I’ve asked for. Instead, he just does whatever my parents tell him to which, in my opinion is a big mistake since my parents aren’t the best planners in the world.
Case in point, we were recently kicked out of the hotel that we were staying in because someone (my dad, probably) forgot to tell the hotel people that I like to make giant forts out of towels. And since they never give you enough towels I like to borrow a few extras off of any housekeeping carts I come across. And I also like to race empty housekeeping carts down long hallways. So apparently borrowing towels to make forts is called “theft” if you don’t ask first, and running a metal housekeeping cart into a stainless steel elevator door and denting it so hard that the people inside the elevator can’t get the doors open so that they have to call the fire department to get them out is called “endangering the lives of other guests” and they kick you out of the hotel for that. Which is ridiculous if you ask me.
Anyway, back to the part about Carl not adding a third floor to the house so I can have a bigger bedroom. Carl said that he has to build the house according to the blueprints, but like I said earlier I wasn’t able to work with the architects on any of my ideas so that’s not very fair. I’m pretty sure that my sister Zara is getting everything SHE wants in her new evil lair.
Seriously. I think that’s even what her room is called on the blueprints.
The first thing you should know about my sister, Zara, is that even though she is two years younger than me, she is the smartest person in the world.
Seriously.
She was given a test a few years ago and got the highest score out of everyone on the planet.
You know those tests you take in school? Well if you score high enough they make you stay during recess to take another test with the one or two other super-smart kids. Then if you score high enough on that test, they make you stay after school and take another, even harder test. Then if you pass THAT test they bring out doctors and scientists and other super smart people to find out just how smart you are. You probably don’t know any of this because you were never asked to stay and take the super smart test. Don’t worry about it. Neither was I.
But Zara was.
She was flown to special colleges where the science and math professors had to work with the english professors to add a letter to the alphabet higher than A because she scored so high on all their tests. The alphabet now starts with the letter % or something. I’m not sure. I usually don’t do well on tests.
The second thing you should know about Zara is that she is evil. Seriously.
She uses her super smarts to do really mean things. Especially to me! Like the time she put Mighty-Glue in my humidifier which then made the glue into a mist that spread and froze everything in place, including both me and my dog Jethro. My mom said it was my fault because I was always leaving the cap off the glue when I was building my model airplanes and that the glue must have dripped out of the bottle and into the humidifier. But I know it was Zara.
And then there was the time she took my jar of lucky pennies. I spent years collecting them, only picking up pennies I found that were head’s up (the other one’s aren’t as lucky) and then polishing them before neatly stacking them in my lucky jar. I was the luckiest person ever back when I had that jar and now it’s gone and Zara won’t tell anyone where she hid it. My dad said that it was probably Jethro since he was always taking and burying things in the back yard. But I have literally dug thousands of holes in the back yard and still no lucky penny jar, which means it’s not there.
Which means Zara took it.
And I am going to prove it.
I am going to find that jar of lucky pennies and get my luck back, if it’s the last thing I do!
Sincerely,
Nathan Goode
CHAPTER TWO - SARA
Dear Environmental Protection Agency,
My name is Sara Goode and I am writing about a letter my brother, Nathan, recently wrote to you. Hopefully you remember it. He was asking you to change the official classification of our backyard from a yard to a dump.
He also wrote the letter in ketchup. On the back of a hamburger wrapper. You probably don’t get many of those so hopefully it should be easy for you to recall.
The reason he wrote the letter is because our mother has been asking him to clean up the back yard for months now, but instead of doing what he’s told Nathan is trying to take the easy way out and just have the entire yard turned into a landfill. This is because he was asked to keep his tent clean so instead of just being neat and tidy like a regular person, he cut a hole in his tent to make a garbage chute directly onto the yard in an attempt to fill in a bunch of holes he made looking for his jar of lucky pennies.
I should probably back up a step and explain that the reason that Nathan and the rest of our family are sleeping in tents in our backyard is because we were recently kicked out of the hotel we were staying in. Nathan saw a red box in the hotel hallway that said ALARM and asked, “What’s a Larm?” right as he pulled the handle to find out. I think he thought it was a bird or maybe candy or something. I don’t really know. Either way the entire hotel had to be evacuated and everyone got really mad and we were asked to leave.
I should probably back up another step and explain that the reason we were staying in the hotel in the first place was because we are having our house built. Or re-built, depending on how you look at it.
I should probably back up a step further and explain that we live in Metroburg which, as you may have read in the news, was destroyed by a fire, and then a flood, both of which we caused by my brother. But that’s a story for another time.
The point is that Nathan should not have written to you as he needs to learn to clean up his messes. And he shouldn’t be digging holes in the back yard but for some reason he thinks I stole his jar of stupid pennies. He thinks I do lots of things like that, which isn’t true but it doesn’t stop him from thinking that I’m evil.
Seriously.
He mentions it a lot, to a lot of people.
Like:
Joggers.
Gas station attendants.
Shoe salesmen.
TV weather reporters.
The internet.
And now, you.
The point is, we received your letter today approving his request for our back yard to be considered a dump, so I am asking you to please reconsider.
If you don’t, the consequences could be disastrous.
Best regards,
Sara Goode
CHAPTER THREE - NATHAN
Dear Tupelo Tent Company,
I am sure you already know this, but I am writing to let you know that your tents stink.
Literally.
Mine smells like fast-food wrappers and raccoon poop.
My mom says it’s because I keep leaving leftover fast-food in my tent, which attracts raccoons who then use my tent as a bathroom. But I think it has more to do with the fact that your tents don’t have enough windows.
Oh, and here’s another way your tents stink, this time not literally but just, you know, in general.
When people sleep in a tent they like to look up at the stars at night but your tents don’t have any skylights. So I cut a hole in the top of the tent to see the stars but now the wind made the hole rip open wider. Now it’s like I’m sleeping in a big open garbage bag.
Speaking of garbage, when I cut a hole in the side of the tent so that I could easily dispose of any McBurgerBox Hut wrappers (my favorite fast-food chain) or candy wrappers or soda cans or soda bottles or cookie boxes or whatever, it worked like a charm and now my tent smells a lot less like a snack bar at a zoo.
So what I’m saying is that you should include garbage chutes in all of your tents from now on. I’m working on a design that I will send to you as soon as I have access to paper, pens, a desk, a room, and a house since ours is currently being built. Or re-built, depending on how you look at it. It’s a long story but the main point is that I saved the town from a big fire by causing an even bigger flood. The problem was that between some of the fires and some of the flooding a few houses were damaged, including ours, so now we have to live in tents in our back yard until our new house is built.
Most people in town are really angry about having to replace their houses but not me! I always try to look on the positive side, which isn’t always easy. For instance the guy building our house, Carl, doesn’t listen to any of my ideas at all. What is my room going to look like when it’s done? Probably just a plan, boring rectangle with NO skylight or garbage chute.
I even asked him, “Carl, can I please a fireman’s pole installed in my room so I don’t have to take the stairs any more, at least in one direction.”
He said, “No.”
“Carl, can I get a water slide attached to my window is I can slide all the way down to the pool?”
“My name isn’t Carl. And your house isn’t getting a pool,” he said.
“Carl, can I get an inflatable room, like a jumpy house?”
“No.”
“Carl, can I get a toilet installed in the closet in case Jethro gets thirsty, so he can drink out of it?”
“Again, my name isn’t Carl. And, no.”
“What if I have to go to the bathroom really bad and can’t hold it? I need a toilet in my closet.”
“The bathroom is the room next to yours.”
“Carl, can I get a secret door that goes from my closet and into that bathroom?”
“No. Like I told you, the blueprints are already drawn up and I have to build the house to the exact specifications in the approved plans. And my name is not Carl.”
“Well I didn’t approve the plans, Carl. So that doesn’t seem fair.”
“Life’s not fair, kid.”
And then he rolled up his blueprints and got into his truck and drove away.
And I don’t even think it was his truck!
It had a sign that read, “Clint’s Construction” on the side which doesn’t make sense since his name is Carl. There was a phone number too so I thought I’d better call and let that Clint guy know that Carl had stolen his truck. The problem is, my mom doesn’t let me have a cell phone since I used hers once to make some long distance calls to Nigeria that cost a LOT of money.
In my defense, I thought I was using the calculator app and that I was just typing in 1-2-3-4 and then some random numbers. Well apparently on the phone app, the number 1 gets you a long distance line, 234 is the international country code for Nigeria, and those other random numbers matched the phone number of a very nice gentleman named Baasu who worked for a mining company, driving their giant dump trucks and cranes and things. He also owned a small goat farm and his wife sewed colorful dresses that she sold at a market. Like I said, a very interesting person and we talked for many hours. Usually three or four times a week.
The first phone bill was something like ten thousand dollars since, apparently, it costs a lot of money to call people in Nigeria that many times, so my mom said I wasn’t allowed to get a phone ever.
Anyway, the point is that someone needed to tell Clint about his stolen truck. And since I knew who stole it, that person needed to be me.
I just needed to find a phone I could borrow.
CHAPTER FOUR - SARA
Dear Metroburg Wildlife Rescue,
I know that your agency assists wild animals that are injured, abandoned, or that have displaced by new home developments so I wanted to ask for your help. My family, like a lot of families in Metroburg, are having their houses re-built. Unlike most families, though, we are living in tents in our back yard during the construction.
We received the tents as a donation from the Red Cross after the town was nearly destroyed by my brother a few months ago, which is a long story that we don’t need to get into. We are living in the tents now because we were asked to leave our local hotel because of my brother’s behavior, which I’m happy to explain in more detail.
Do you know those rules that hotels post near the polls that read:
1. Swim at your own risk
2. No lifeguard on duty
3. Flotation ring is for emergency use only
4. No running near the pool
5. No diving
Well, my brother apparently thought that “swim at your own risk” meant that he was supposed to swim at whatever level of risk was appropriate for him. Which, since you don’t know him, I’ll let you know is very, very high.
He thought that the “no lifeguard on duty” implied that it was okay to do whatever you wanted since there was literally no lifeguard was on duty.
He felt that “for emergency use only” meant that if you forgot your pool toys that it was okay tom use the emergency flotation ring if you needed to.
“Sprinting” wasn’t the same as “running” since sprinting is faster than running.
And “no diving”? Well, I don’t think he read that far down
So of course things were going to go horribly wrong when he ripped the white flotation ring off the wall, threw it into the pool and proceeded to sprint up to the edge of the pool then dive headfirst into the center of the ring. By the fourth or fifth time the hotel staff was chasing him trying to get him to stop.
He kept shouting, “There’s no running near the pool!” and then diving back into the pool.
It all ended with my brother diving into the ring and then getting stuck in it, since it’s meant to be something you hold onto and not something you dive into.
Anyway, the hotel couldn’t get the ring off of him so he slept with it on that night, and the next morning he had to wear it to breakfast. My parents thought he was really hungry since he kept going back and forth to the breakfast buffet line so many times. Unfortunately, he was still stuck in the ring so each trip back and forth from our table to the food he kept bumping into people and knocking over their plates and glasses. The hotel staff finally asked us to leave when they noticed that my brother wasn’t getting food, but instead was just licking the frosting off of the cinnamon rolls and then putting them back in the pastry case. His excuse was that cinnamon roles have too many carbohydrates in them so he was just eating the healthy part of the cinnamon roll and leaving the rest for people who didn’t care about their health as much as he cared about his.
Anyway, back to our animal issue…
While my parents keep their tent clean, and I keep my tent very neat and tidy, my brother’s tent is the complete opposite. His tent looks like it was made with a sheet of plastic somebody found in a dumpster, cut into pieces with a rusty pair of scissors, stapled together, and then dragged through an outhouse.
I don’t mean to be overly descriptive. I am simply trying to get the point across that my brother’s tent is super gross.
Because his tent is super gross and because he leaves a lot of food and candy wrappers lying around, his tent attracts an assortment of wild animals including birds, mice, squirrels, chipmunks, roaches, rats, raccoons, moles, badgers, beavers, foxes, coyotes and more. Two days ago a moose was trying to climb into the tent but his antlers were too big. Yesterday I saw a javelina rooting around the garbage mound he created outside his tent, which as you may or may not know is an animal that looks like a wild pig and that is native to the American Southwest. But we don’t even live in the Southwest!
So animals are coming from far and wide to enjoy the filthiness that is my brother’s tent, which is the reason for this letter.
Normally I am a friend to all animals and have even held numerous fundraisers to support endangered species like the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker, which is the largest woodpecker in North America, and the Metroburg Fieldmouse, which is the smallest field mouse in Metroburg.
But today when I got home from volunteering at the town library it looked like one of these animals tore a hole in my tent and made a mess of all of my things. So far everything is accounted for except for my cell phone. My guess is that a raccoon was trying to get into my brother’s tent but when it saw all the other animals in there it wandered over to my tent and broke in. Since raccoons are attracted to food and bright, shiny objects, when it saw that I don’t keep food in my tent it probably saw my cellphone and left with it.
Because of the number and variety of wild animals in our back yard I was hoping that your rescue organization might be able to help remove and relocate them to more natural wildlife environments like the forest or a pond or field.
Thanks so much for any help you can provide. If you need to contact me please write back to the address on the envelope, as I no longer have a cell phone number you can call.
Sincerely,
Sara Goode
CHAPTER FIVE - NATHAN
Dear Metroburg Police Department,
I would like to formally apologize for the call I made about a stolen truck that, it turns out, wasn’t really stolen.
I would have called to apologize to you directly, but my parents took away my cell phone again. Or rather, they took away my sister’s phone from me, after I took it out of her tent with out her permission, for which I also apologize. Technically me stealing her phone is not illegal since the event occurred in my backyard AND since I was using it to report a crime, but I see how my sister Zara, my parents, and Clint’s Construction Company could all still be angry.
Speaking of angry, the reason I stole the phone in the first place is because the person who is building our house, Carl, is not a very nice person and basically refuses to build our house the way he’s supposed to. Then I saw him getting into a truck with someone else’s name on it so I wanted to do the right thing and report it to the police. But before called I wanted to make sure to gather as much evidence as possible.
That’s why I called the 1-800 number on the side of the truck.
“This is Clint,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.
“Is this Clint from “Clint’s Construction?” I asked.
“Yes. How can I help you?”
“Listen, Clint. Some guy named Carl is stealing your truck. I wanted to let you know in case there’s a reward or anything.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Nathan? Is that you? How did you get this number? And how did you get a phone?”
And that’s when I recognized the voice.
It was Carl!
“Did you steal Clint’s truck AND his phone?” I asked.
“My name isn’t ‘Carl’. It never was. My name is Clint. And this is my truck… and my phone. I’m going to hang up now.”
“Wait!” I said.
There was another pause. Then a long sigh.
“I’m very busy, Nathan,” Carl said. “Yours isn’t the only house I’m building.”
“That’s why I’m calling,” I explained. “I feel like you’re not spending enough time on my house. Specifically on the basement pool. We’re paying you a lot of money for this house, Carl, and a basement pool doesn’t seem like a big ask. You just dig a hole, fill it with water, add a diving board and slide and pool toys and waterfalls and a lazy river and stuff. Easy”
Another long sigh, even longer this time.
You’re not getting an underground pool, Nathan. And I’m not getting any money to build this house. I am volunteering my time with Habitats for Humanity. We build houses for people in need. And yours isn’t the only house I’m building. There’s a lot of people in town who need houses built. So I’m going to hang up now.”
“Okay. I understand. You’re busy.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll just text you everything I’d like in my new house.”
“No! Do not text me anything—“
And that’s when the call went dead. Because I hit the red “End Call” button.
So then I sent him the texts we had agreed I would send and that he would build. But he didn’t respond to any of them.
So I sent them again just in case he didn’t receive them.
But it turns out he DID receive them. Multiple times. In fact, so many times that he blocked my sister’s phone number.
Which is when I decided to go to the local cellphone store and send texts from those phones.
And that was when Carl filed something called a “Restraining Order” against me, which one of your police officers delivered to my house this afternoon.
CHAPTER SIX - METROBURG POLICE DEPARTMENT
FROM: Metroburg Police Department
TO: Nathan Goode
RE: Restraining Order Request for Clint’s Construction (Case# 07P01673X)
Dear Mr. Goode,
You are hereby notified that you have been issued a Temporary Retraining Order against harassment, stalking, unsolicited advice, construction requests and/or communication including but not limited to the sending of phone calls, texts, emails, IM’s, DM’s, selfies, use of recorded materials, use of written materials, talking, shouting, whispering, grunting, clicking, nodding, nudging, whistling, humming, winking, pointing, miming, pantomiming, acting, play acting, demonstrating, illustrating, or any other form of human or animal communication.
In order to ensure that you are not communicating with and/or distracting the person or persons named in this restraining order you must remain, at all times, at least two hundred yards away from Clint of Clint’s Construction, or any of his employees, partners, subcontractors, vehicles, and anyone or anything else involved with the construction of your home.
Any intentional or unintentional violation of this order is a criminal violation and can result in your immediate arrest or issuance of an arrest warrant, imprisonment in jail for up to one (1) year, and/or a fine of up to $25,000 dollars.
Thank you for attention in this matter.
If you have any questions regarding this restraining order please visit the Metroburg Police Department during normal business hours.
Sincerely,
Metroburg Police Department
CHAPTER SEVEN - NATHAN
I want to point out that everything that happened after this point is technically Myra’s fault because she wouldn’t let me use the good bathroom.
I originally went to the Metroburg Town Hall, where the police station is located, to complain about the restraining order.
The policeman I talked to, Officer Something (I didn’t get his name), was not very helpful.
He told me that the restraining order was a legal document that blah, blah, blah, words, words words.
Long story short, he showed me a jail cell that he had already cleaned up for me, since he was pretty sure I was going to violate the restraining order at some point. So first, you should probably send Officer Something to some kind of sensitivity training or something, since that was not very sensitive to me. Or… rather, it was very sensitive to me. Or insensitive.
“Question,” I asked. “What happens if I sleepwalk and accidentally walk near Carl?”
“You mean Clint?”
“Whoever.”
“Then I will arrest you.”
“But I’m technically sleeping.”
“Then I’ll arrest you quietly, so I don’t wake you up.”
“Question. What if my name is misspelled on the restraining order.”
“Is it misspelled?”
“Question. How does one go about legally changing the spelling of their name?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Officer Something said, although I think he was lying because if I had a last name like ‘Something’ I would definitely change it.
“Question. How am I supposed to sleep in my own back yard while my house is being built if I’m not allowed in my own back yard while my house is being built.”
Officer Something thought about this for a minute. “Actually, that’s a good question. I don’t know.”
“They were all good questions.”
“No they weren’t.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
“I can’t agree with that. But what we can all agree on is that a restraining order is a legal document. You have to follow it or I have to arrest you.”
And that was that. There was nothing I could do. The law was the law. Which gave me an idea.
A great idea.
Probably the greatest idea of all time!
But first, back to how this is Myra’s fault.
I left the police station office and was looking for a bathroom when I saw a sign that read, “Restrooms”.
PRO TIP: There are actually three different kinds of bathrooms. The first is just a regular old home bathroom. The second is a Public Restroom, which is kind of gross and not the kind of place that you would want to rest at all.
But the third kind of bathroom is the best kind of bathroom. And that is the Employee Restroom.
Employee Restrooms are way nicer than regular public restrooms since they don’t allow the regular public in there. Think about it, if an employee’s job was to clean a bathroom they might do a good job. But if an employee has to use a bathroom, they’re going to make sure that bathroom is nice and clean.
And that’s the kind of bathroom I want to use.
So I walked across the hall from the police station to a door that read, “Department of Motor Vehicles”, but there were like a million people in there. So I wasn’t using that bathroom.
Next door, though, was a smaller office with no one in it. The sign on the door read, “Metroburg Planning and Building Department”.
So I went in there, where a woman named Myra was sitting behind the reception desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I need to use your employee bathroom, please.” I said, throwing the ‘please’ in there at the end since adults always fall for that kind of thing.
“There’s a public restroom down the hall,” she said, pointing in the direction I had just come from.
“Come on, Myra,” I said. “We both know that public restrooms are filthy and disgusting. We’re not like other people, Myra. We like nice things. Like three-ply toilet paper, and scented hand soap, and paper towels to dry your hands instead of those air blower things that fling hand germs all over the place.”
“There is no employee bathroom in the town offices. We all use the public restrooms,” she said.
“What about your manager?” I asked.
“She uses the public restroom.”
“And her manager?”
“Same.”
“And that person’s manager?”
“That’s the mayor.”
“Can I use the mayor’s bathroom?”
“No.”
“Question. Are you hiring and, if I apply, can I then use your employee bathroom?”
“No. We’re not hiring. Now unless you have any business with the Planning and Building Department I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Do you mean building, as in building buildings?”
CHAPTER EIGHT - SARA
Diary entry. Best day of her life! She says wonderful things about how good her life is and ends it with, Nathan has a Restraining Order against him!
CHAPTER NINE - NATHAN
Nathan writes a letter to the Metroburg Police Department asking to have Nathan Goode given a restraining order forbidding him to go to the school.
CHAPTER TEN - METROBURG POLICE DEPARTMENT
Restraining order is given to school
CHAPTER ELEVEN - SARA
Dear Diary, part two. This is even better! Maybe a slight hint about Nathan not finding out about her secret club.
CHAPTER TWELVE - NATHAN
With no place to live and no school Nathan needs to get a job. Decides to go into business for himself. Since no one will rent an apartment to a kid he’ll need to build his own house in the woods. So he’ll be a contractor.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - NATHAN
Nathan starts building a house in a field of rocks only to get kicked out. Turns out it was a cemetery! As he’s leaving he sees a sign on the field next door that reads “Country Fairgrounds - COMING SOON! Contractor - to bid, call 1-800-XXX-XXXX” So Nathan places a call.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - LADY AT CITY HALL
Lady answers the phone. A contractor calls at the very last minute bidding $10,000 dollars! She keeps asking if he’s sure. He says “Yes.” He wins the contract!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - SARA
Sara writes a letter to the Metroburg Sustainability Society offering a check for $5,000 her and her friends have raised to provide for Green Building projects that use recycled and repurposed materials.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - NATHAN
Nathan gets a check for $10,000, plus another check for $5,000 since he promised to build Green, although he’s not sure what that means exactly. He learns that he needs to be environmentally friendly and use sustainable materials with a minimum of impact to the environment. He decided to not chop down any trees AND re-use materials.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - SARA
Sara writes a letter to the mayor complaining about vandalism. Just last night someone pried off a bunch of boards from the side of Town Hall AND the Police Station, and stole the windows out of the town library, which let in the rain and ruined all of the books.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - NATHAN
Nathan was chased away when he stole the last of the library windows. He bought a wheelbarrow and rented a bulldozer but it cost $10,000 so he had to find other ways to get the rest of the material to build the county fair. He was supposed to submit blueprints to the city but he doesn’t have the money to hire an architect. He doesn’t have any blueprints so he just flattens as much of the field as he can. Then, since there needs to be a road, he bulldozes onto the highway.
CHAPTER NINETEEN - SARA
Sara thanking the Metroburg Fire Department for their quick response to the 500 cars that got trapped in the mud as they accidentally took the wrong exit and got stuck on the way to the fairgrounds. Sara offers to deliver more water and blankets to those in need, if it would help.
CHAPTER TWENTY - NATHAN
Because of the car issue Nathan is kicked off the project. He goes to City Hall to complain and overhears the police chief talking about the stolen material on the county fairground job site! Nathan decides NOT to complain. Instead, as he’s leaving, he sees a sign for Tax Collector wanted.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE - LADY IN TAX ASSESSOR'S OFFICE
Lady in Tax Assessor’s office interviewing Nathan. How old are you? You aren’t allowed to ask that. Do you go to school? No. Do you live at home with your parents? No. Huh… do you have any experience? Yes. I pay taxes all the time. No, I mean collecting taxes. No… not yet. Then sorry, but you aren’t qualified for the job. You need experience first. Okay. Gets up and walks out.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - NATHAN
Nathan is wheeling a big pile of money down an alley when he is attacked by a roving band of pirate ninjas. They take his wheelbarrow, but not before explaining how income taxation works. He gets mugged.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE - NURSE
The nurse provides a bill for $5,000… the last of his sustainability money. PLUS taxes! So now he owes money! He argues about the taxes but the nurse explains how sales tax works. He explains about the pirate ninjas who are probably digging holes with nunchucks and burying his tax money right now! He decides that not only should there be NO taxes, everything should be free! (especially his medical bill)
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR - NATHAN
Writes a letter to the King of England, apologizing for leaving years ago and asking if he’s take the United States back. He heard they have free health care, free education, just about free everything.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE - US SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
Writes an email to the president warning about British war ships and planes heading towards the United States. Probably nothing to worry about since Britain has been the United State’s closes ally since the Revolutionary War, but just wanted to let him know.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX - SARA
Writes a letter to congress explaining the letter her brother wrote. Only congress has the power to declare war, or to negotiate on behalf of the united states. Now there are British soldiers all over Metroburg, securing the borders.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN - NATHAN
Nathan writes back to the king, complaining. He wanted free everything and NOT even HIGHER taxes! Now the tax rate is around 70%! There are a lot more pubs and soccer fields everywhere, which is okay he guesses. But now all contracts have been dissolved which means no more restraining orders which means he has to move back home AND go to school! And now they’re probably going to make him learn to speak whatever foreign language they speak in England.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT - QUEEN OF ENGLAND
Thanks Nathan for his letter and explains how currently there is no king, just a queen. And that the higher taxes pay for all the “free stuff” and that not only should he learn to speak English anyway, and other foreign languages, but also the metric system. The King notes how many more soccer fields are being built, and the British/Metroburg government is even completing the County Fairgrounds for an upcoming fair! Unfortunately, given Nathan’s background, a new Retraining Order has been put in place and Nathan is not allowed within a mile of the fairgrounds.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE - NATHAN
Nathan decides to start a democratic election and run for king! of Metroburg! No Taxes, No Metrics, No Awesome Accents!
CHAPTER THIRTY - US SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
Writes back to Sara thank her for her letter to congress and letting her know that he is sending in the army to help remove the British.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE - SARA
Sara has a booth set up in the town square not supporting either Nathan OR the Regional Viceroy. Set up a scenario like Clinton/Trump where no one liked either candidate.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO - NATHAN
Nathan is about to attend the first of three debates to elect a new king when the British run away. US Tanks are lined up all around town and the British leave. Nathan’s not ready to give up so easily on his new town since he’s now the king by default! Sara and her friends try to stop Nathan from running away. They are very aggressive, and very ninja like. Could Zara and her friends be the pirate ninjas?
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE - NATHAN
At the county fairgrounds the place looks brand new. It’s not even open yet! He sees his bulldozer parked at the edge of a field. He runs over, starts it up, and starts knocking over tanks that are trying to take over his town. They start firing at him so he steers the bulldozer into the fairgrounds, where he either knocks over or the tanks blow up the roller coaster, the tilt n’ twirl, the water slides, and more. Nathan is winning and a plane flies overhead and drops a bomb directly in front of him. The bulldozer falls into the crater. There is something shiny near the bottom of the crater.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR - NATHAN
Received a $900,000 bill for a new bulldozer. Luckily, when they pulled twisted wreckage of the bulldozer out of the hole they found a large amount of money that had been buried, most likely by pirate ninjas. He sees them at the edge of the woods, holding nunchucks and shovels, slinking into the darkness. One of them has the same color eyes as Zara! It is the money Nathan had collected in taxes before he had been robbed. The tax money was exactly $900,000 which is all the money he has in the world, so in the end everything worked out!
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE - NATHAN
Invoice for $10,000 million dollars for a new fairgrounds, since the old one was destroyed because of his antics. Nathan doesn’t even like old stuff (antiques).
Invoice for $10,000 million dollars for a new fairgrounds, since the old one was destroyed because of his antics. Nathan doesn’t even like old stuff (antiques).
THREE DAYS LATER ...
Back in school, back in his new, boring house, everything is back to normal. A few new soccer fields, a few less county fairgrounds, and a sizable amount of debt to pay off. But all in all he feels like people should be more respectful of their king, even if it was only for an hour.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX - SARA
Writing in her diary about burying the tax money in the fairgrounds. Now her plans to take over the world will have to wait… just a bit longer.
Writing in her diary about burying the tax money in the fairgrounds. Now her plans to take over the world will have to wait… just a bit longer.
IF NEEDED
Baasu could convince Nathan that his uncle is wealthy and needs to get money out of Nigeria (Chap 3) so that he has the money to pay off the ruined fairgrounds. Sara also mentioned supporting the endangered Ivory-Billed Woodpecker. If needed, perhaps Nathan has a run-in with this bird, shutting down his construction or something.
Baasu could convince Nathan that his uncle is wealthy and needs to get money out of Nigeria (Chap 3) so that he has the money to pay off the ruined fairgrounds. Sara also mentioned supporting the endangered Ivory-Billed Woodpecker. If needed, perhaps Nathan has a run-in with this bird, shutting down his construction or something.
THE END