• It was, a very dark night. It was around 1:45 in the morning when Professor Donavin went for a stroll around Bogle Avenue. I don't know what he was doing, getting up at 1:45 and going for a walk. He might be kind of drunk. Yes he was drunk. He started to tip over while he was walking. Then he fell down. I yelled "Professor?" I am Mitchell Postale. I go to school at the South Herman Institute of Technology in Waterloo, Iowa, and Professor Donavin is my teacher. I ran over to him after he didn't answer. I saw blood on the side of his head. How could a drunk man fall on is cheek and start dying of blood loss?
    Jesus Christ!! He's dying of blood loss! I've got to save him. I just remebered that my cellphone is in my pocket. I'll call the police. 9-1-1, that's what I dailed on the buttons on my crappie cellphone. The reason it's crappie is because the 2 button doesn't work, the 3 doesn't work, and the 6 doesn't work. And I got it a week ago!You don't need a 2,3, or a 6 to dial 9-1-1. " Hello, what is your emergency?" the lady on the other line said. " My professor has just fallen on his face and is bleeding to death!" I said. I couldn't hear anything. It was just blank for about twenty seconds. That sucks. My phone doesn't work and my professor is bleeding to death on the ground.

    WHAT SHOULD I DO?

    TO BE CONTINUED UNTIL NEXT WEEK