The Trickster | Teen Ink

The Trickster

April 28, 2008
By Anonymous

There's is something about eggs and hot sauce that seemed to drive me crazy with laughter when I see them. At the age of five, I had a mind of a nine year old, always planning my next act of crime. You can say I was devious.

I started on Monday morning; school was let out for our winter break. I went to school where winter was break time and school went through the summer, we called it Track School. My sissy, Ashley, was still in bed getting her beauty sleep. The night before I had planned to cook eggs for my dear sister, because she had hit me in the face with a house shoe, leaving a mark on my face for life.

When the pupil dilated and the whites in my eyes weren't red anymore, I dashed into the kitchen grabbing everything in site. Brown sugar, eggs, pepper, salt, onions, chili pepper, pure, peanut butter and jelly, sugar, and cinnamon were just some of the ingredients I used to make my omelet disaster.

It was kind of shaky at first. I didn't know what to do; my hands went flying, throwing everything into the pan. First the egg went in, oozing out of the cracked egg like a booger. My peripheral vision caught site of the onions and cinnamon. Tears formed in my eyes. The fumes from the onions were making me crazy.

At last I was almost done. The fire on the stove got going, and the eggs started sizzling. There was an off smell in the kitchen.

I seemed happy inside as I stared down the delicious breakfast, but something was missing. Hot sauce! I almost poured a whole bottle of it onto the plate of eggs. Feeling awesome, I was ready to serve Ashley some good breakfast. I ran upstairs with the yellow and red plate filled with mush to my big sister.

There was a smile bigger than the sun was planted on my face. I was grinning from ear to ear. I stared her down as she filled her mouth with what I call now, slop. It took her forever to realize what she was eating was too good. It may have looked good but, it left a forever nasty taste in her mouth.

Dropping the fork down to run the bathroom I just couldn’t stop laughing at her for being so dumb. There she was standing in the room so hot and heated from the hot sauce, crying.

Since that day I have learned to not play jokes on people because they might get hurt or even sick. She was mad at the whole winter break. I didn’t have any fun I was sad. I didn’t have anybody to play with, but I got over it and so did Ashley. I guess she was trying to teach me a lesson. I was sad.

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