Hi everyone! Here is our secret story:


Once upon a Sticky day there was Clown, a boy, who joined a band, called The Butter Fingers. But other bands hated Clown’s names. Butter Fingers wasn’t that bad. But they were uncool. When people mentioned them they laughed. Teams were then formed. Are they ready though? Like butter, Clown slipped. Tribes were then formed. Red tribe is worst. Is anyone safe now? Spotted snails against a Dragon’s dad. The last Team left to fight. Color was against them. She was gruel too. Didn’t she like them? Have she no mercy? To live is great. Buy them more time. The world is mean. Color wasn’t their friend. Though she use to. Not time or love. Her roar grew loader. Finn, the leader, jumped. Costume of greatness, yes? Either live sad or end. No man had of anything anymore. No message of congrats.


I hope you liked it! Most of it just popped into my head. I just really needed to post this, so I tried to make it make sense. Oh and you are allowed to comment part of the story, if you know what I mean. 😉 This story tells everything except one thing.



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