The Bet | Teen Ink

The Bet

February 14, 2009
By jewblyfh58 BRONZE, Cheshire, Connecticut
jewblyfh58 BRONZE, Cheshire, Connecticut
2 articles 1 photo 0 comments

“I’m in.” “Me too.” Everyone wanted in. This was going to be the biggest bet of our lives.

Finally, it was down to five of us. Mikey, John, Emily, Ashley, and I, Wally Walters, were going to compete. We were all giving up our most annoying habit: Mikey’s sport obsession, John’s big words, Emily’s jewelry, Ashley’s butter (she could eat entire sticks at a time!), and my Chuck Norris comments. It would be torturous, but the stakes were high: 100 dollars!

The five of us were the ones that had come up with the bet. We had been friends for years, and were discussing how annoying we thought each others habits were. That’s when we came up with the bet. A pain-staking test of endurance that would test every ounce of will we have.

On Friday, we all put our $20 together (which was hard to do), and simultaneously said, “Go!” The bet was on.
“I’m going to play some baseb-.” Mikey announced. We all glared at him. “Oh no! What have I done?” Then he ran outside and started throwing a ball around. 1 down 3 to go? That was quick.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch. Not really. John almost answered a science question with “protoplasm”, Emily almost put on her diamond necklace, Ashley almost ate a buttered bagel, and I almost mentioned Chuck Norris, like, 30 times. It was agony!

Monday was a day of events. We had the best dressed contest (bad for Emily), the spelling bee (bad for John), buttered toast for lunch (bad for Ashley), and gym with Coach Morris, who LOVES Chuck Norris (bad for me). We could all lose right there and then. John lost the spelling bee, Emily quit the best-dressed contest, Ashley didn’t eat lunch, and I “couldn’t find” my gym shorts. You would do all of those for $100. Just admit it.

On Thursday, we were all still in, but we were about to have a nervous breakdown. “This is ridiculous!” Emily eventually said. She took her diamond earrings put them on, and walked away. That probably wasn’t smart considering we were in math class with Mr. Dye, the strictest teacher in school. Lets just say SOMEONE has detention. That just shows what this contest is doing to our brains. 2 down, 2 to go.
The rest of us died of frustration the next day (pretty much). Ashley started babbling and twitching. John started reading the dictionary nonstop, without recess, lunch, or even going to the bathroom. You could hear his stomach grumbling, but he just kept reading.

Then there was me. Going a week without mentioning “the one who can not be named” is like… nothing. Nothing else can be compared to that torture. I wanted to jump off a cliff if it meant I could mention “CN”.

Then, the worst thing that could ever happen in this position happened. Worse than parents and teachers finding out…Eve Ell found out about the bet! She has hated all of us since first grade because we didn’t share our animal crackers with her. Now that she knows about the bet, who knows what she’ll do! She might tell the teachers! Or our parents! Or even worse… Principal Nevel (or as we called him “Nevel the Devil”)! Eve could completely ruin this bet for all of us.

But she didn’t tell. Instead she rubbed the things we couldn’t do in our face. She would “think out loud”, asking for synonyms of words when John was nearby, she ate as much buttery food as she could, and she wouldn’t stop with the Chuck Norris! She was using all of my material! I couldn’t stand it. Now I was starting to go crazy like the other two!

Eve was bothering us again and finally, John couldn’t take it. Eve was crossing out words of the dictionary and then suddenly, John snapped. You could see fire in his eyes. He called what Eve was doing “a preposterous act of defiling the English language.” And a lot of other big words we couldn’t understand. That’s when he realized what he had done. He covered his mouth, and went wide-eyed. But it was too late. Both Ashley and I heard him. 3 down, 1 to go.

By that time, it was Friday again. It had been 2 weeks since I had mentioned “You Know Who”. I felt like I had just gotten the most sickening disease in the world. My legs were twitching, I always had a stomachache, and I had the worst migraine ever. It was like a small creature was eating me from the inside out! I wanted to scream!

On Monday, Eve brought in a whole book of Chuck Norris jokes. Right when I was about to crack and open the book, I noticed that there was a giant vat of melted butter for the lobster that Rich Monay brought in for the class. And then, all of a sudden, Ashley ran over, and jumped into the butter! I won! That was it! Then I started going off with Chuck Norris jokes.

“Chuck Norris once roundhouse kicked someone so hard that his foot broke the speed of light, went back in time, and killed Amelia Earhart while she was flying over the Pacific Ocean! Chuck Norris' tears cure cancer. Too bad he has never cried! When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night he checks his closet for Chuck Norris! When Chuck Norris does a pushup, he isn’t lifting himself up, he’s pushing the Earth down! Chuck Norris CAN believe it’s not butter! I win, I win I win!” I was so excited. $100 PLUS I can talk about Chuck Norris again.

“This butter tastes kinda funny,” Ashley said. “Huh?” I questioned. Then I dipped my finger into the vat and tasted it. “MARGARINE!?!?!?!” I sobbed. Margarine isn’t butter. And everybody heard my rant about Chuck Norris. I had lost and she had won. That’s it. How could I be so stupid?

The next day, all of us met up again: Emily with more diamonds then ever, Mikey with his baseball uniform on, John with his dictionary, me with my new Chuck Norris joke book, and Ashley, the winner, with a buttered bagel. “So, what are you going to buy with all that money?” Emily asked. Then Ashley reached into her backpack to grab something. We all looked at each other confused. Then she pulled out a catalog and said, “Well there’s honey butter, and apple butter, and curry butter.” It figures that she would spend the money on butter. Who has even heard of a butter catalog anyway?


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