O+drafting


 * Characters: John Tolliver Crogan

Location: the English Channel, in his plane

Goal (what does the Crogan want?) To cross the English Channel in his plane.

Impediment (why can't the Crogan get it?) All the fuel has leaked out of a hole in the plane, there is no fuel left in the plane, plane starts to go down to the sea.

Solution (What do they do to try and get what they want?) Steers (while going down) to the nearest fishing boat and lands on it, there is parachute so John just had to hope there was a boat passing by.

Story "If I just took one, just one," pleaded Billy (Eric's best friend). “We can't, Billy, they're some strangers strawberries, not ours," whispered Eric, nudging Billy in the ribs.

The trees swayed in the July breeze as if they were dancing for joy. Freshly cut grass was the smell that woke you up every morning as well as blooming flowers that got you up and running, that got you feeling fresh every day. Birds sang their song proudly, lifting every note up into the sky. This very day was almost like a day in your dreams, but it was just real.

"Well if you think you're so clever go and pick one your self," said Billy sarcastically, glancing at Eric, pulling a stern face.

Eric answered: "Okay then I’ll do it as long as you're by my side"

" Whatever"

"Here I go, or should I say we go," laughed Eric stepping into the freshly mowed grass.

'Beep, beep, beep' the alarms raised there voices. Billy ran back onto the road and dashed home.

"Come back here, Billy, I’ll get into trouble," squealed Eric shaking all over.

"Eric," came the loud booming voice of Eric's dad

"Y-e-e-s fa-a-ther," said Eric closing his eyes

"It's Mr. Anderson, not your father."

Eric blushed red: "I'm so sorry, I won't do it again."

"Eric my boy, come and tell what you've done," came the sweet voice of Eric's farther.

Eric dashed over to his farther almost crying with relief.

"I didn't mean to do it."

"Very sorry Mr. Anderson," grumbled Dad "I'm sure it won't happen again."

"You know son, something happened to your great ancestor that was like what you just did," remarked Dad

"Was it the pirate or the assain or, or maybe just maybe the Ninja?" said Eric jumping up and down

"Your sister’s tennis club hasn't finished yet, Ok It was about..." murmured Dad, whilst running his fingers through his hair.**



A plane from WW1 was bashed up with dozens of dents and bullet holes. Oil leaked out of one of the holes, giving the stench of fuel. One of the propellers had a dent, as if a fox had gnawed at it. And the beautiful paint was fading away from all the memorable adventures. The plane was coming to an end of its journey. John Tollier was sad, depressed, and horrified and it all showed in his black eyes as he watched the WW1 plane come down, down, down, closer to the hungry waves of the sea. Tried, he had, failure, he became. This was the end of his life, love, and job. All he had to do was to rely on his parachute. And hope that his companion had the same idea. To jump and pray for the best.

John Tolliver Crogan, what a man. He fought in battles, WW1, in this one little plane that has gone all the way just like himself, a top notch pilot. John had a love that he would treasure for ever and ever.

John woke to the crying of the gulls. A miracle lay before his eyes at the sight of him on a fishermen boat. He got up; his head ached with pain so he lay down.

"Ah ha! You have awoken from an adventure!" a man heartily laughed. There was something about the man that made John curious. The man started to feel around.” Where is that blasted medicine!"

"What happened where I am, help please where am I," said John shaking all over.

"Ah ha I see, you just lay down and try to remember what happened to you last night of a couple of nights ago," Whispered the fisherman while holding a bottle of rum in his hand.

“Well here I go…”

“Wright one thousand pound for the job,” said the Chief whilst smoking a cigar and scrunching his eyes

“One thousand five hundred,” groaned John Tolliver Crogan.

“One thousand three hundred, that’s your final offer,” Laughed the Chief, spitting bits of smoke out, showing his yellow teeth, with bits of meat, and gods know what in-between those dirty incisors.

“Fine I’ll do it,” groaned John, stuffing the money into his pockets.

Today was a sweltering hot day, and John was dreading driving that hot, stuffy plane, but he would do anything for one thousand three hundred pounds! It was midsummer in England, and all the trees, flowers and people were drooping from lack of water! The blazing hot son looked as if it was a fire ball swooping and swerving towards us. Sweat dribbled down John’s leather jacket leaving stains. John walked over to his house, stepped inside and sank down limply into his velvet chair.

‘Time for an adventure,’ he thought to himself.

“Come on pooch, we can do this together,” sobbed John dabbing a white tissue at his eyes. “We can this job without charlotte, can’t we dingo? Just you and me.

John and his faithful dog Dingo stepped into the plane, step by step their adventure had begun!

“Wow I’m getting this old baby afloat, incredible!” laughed John bouncing up and down in his chair.