A Boy Or An Oven?

• Sebastyn Woodroffe, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2020

I’m your worst nightmare, an oven. Well not really. I am an oven though. At least my kindergarten teacher thinks I’m an oven. I believe she does.

“No don’t leave me, this is hell” Screaming to mother as she leaves me in this place full of untoilet trained peasants and crying mummy whiners. It’s time for yoghurt. I pull out my golden peace of steak for morning tea. The peasants are staring. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?
“Ok kids morning tea over, time to play” says the kindergarten teacher.
I go outside to relax. I see. I see kids. I see kids playing. I see kids playing cops and robbers.

That’s it. The kids are pretending to be cops and robbers. I’ll pretend to be something but what? A chair. A murderer, Nah little bit mean. What do I like? Not cricket. FOOOOOOD. I can’t be food I’ll be eaten. What do you cook food in? A microwave. No microwave food is for poor people. AN OVEN. ”Play time over” says the teacher. NO IT CAN’T BE, THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE. It’s NAP TIME.

I’ve been sitting here incredibly bored for 25 billion YEARS, (25 minutes). They are putting meat pies in me. Yummm yummmm yummmmm. I haven’t eaten in 1…………hour. The peasants have woken. The teacher explains how we go home and come back. WWWHHHAAATTT! I’m coming back to hell. I’m too young to die.
Daddy. “Yes my son” says my father. Can I borrow you’re your weapons that you used to rob 400 trillion dollars from that bank one time. “Why of course you can”. I will save the DIAPER POOPERS from the terrible beeeeeeeep. Sorry this is a kid’s story which has no swearing please read an MA 15+ or R 18+ if you want swearing.

I, super oven, shall save the peasants. I walk into the prison (classroom). What? They’ve trapped me. At least 50 guns pointed to my head (not actually it felt like it though). THIS MEANS WARRRRRRRRRR! I pull out the squirt gun that my dad gave me and I fire. Wait pause the story if I say fire with a squirt gun it wouldn’t squirt water, It would squirt fire, lets change that. Ok. WATER! I shot at all the teachers like I’m in WW3. I get behind the playground. IT’S TIME FOR SUPER OVEN! “Be one with the oven, be one with the oven” I say quietly to myself.
Are you teachers ready to get burned?
Hey you, your kid so ugly he make his happy meal cry.
And you, you’re a grey sprinkle on a rainbow cup cake
Finally principal, you have so many gaps in your teeth it looks like your tongue is in jail.

Super oven saves the day. Is it a bird, is it a plane, no it’s an oven.
“Son” says mother.
“Yeah” I reply.
“Since you’re so smart we enrolled you in school”.
“Mum”.
“Yeah”.
I am your worst nightmare.