1| Abraham Lincoln the goat

November 2019 ...

Wait. Muscle Man? What are you doing here?

Okaaaaay. Well this is weird. I'm at school and Muscle Man has just come out of the staff room. I would scream right now but I can't seem to find the button for my voice so I guess I just gotta keep my thoughts to myself then. Oh look, he's taken his t-shirt of and is now waving it around in the air while screaming like a maniac.

Ha. Classic Muscle Man. I just realised how long it's been since I've watched Regular Show.

Okay, what on earth?

Some gangster unicorns just walked out the door as well. And they're drinking cigarettes and smoking beer.

I don't think this is possible but then again, the teachers are having a party in there were they are eating doritos in milk like cereal while walking on the walls. Also, they also seem to have cut of the headteacher's butt with a chainsaw and are eating it with ice cream dip.

A bit harsh since its his birthday party but it's fine cause he hasn't noticed yet. Luckily its not pistachio flavour. I they even glance at any pistachio ice cream I will snap their necks and pour salt onto their eyes.

You mess with my ice cream, you mess with me.

Hmm, what time is it? It seems like I've been standing here for two hours straight. I swear there was a clock around here somewhere. Oh yeah, I have a watch! Apparently, it's 31:74 pm. I think my watch is broken. There's no 31st hour. Everyone knows that there are only 15 hours. 21, 25, 71, 204, 3 and well you know the rest.

I think I might have head lice, my head is itching so bad. Ow! I think I just snapped my neck. Nope. No I didn't. I found the voice button.

"Hey Lea?" Muscle Man grunts.

"Yeah?" I answer.

"Have you seen Abraham Lincoln," he asks.

"Uh, no. He's dead. And this is England so he won't be here. Check in America," I say.

"Not the president. Abraham Lincoln the goat," he says

" No I haven't. How do we find-"

"MEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"WHAT WAS THAT?" I scream.

"IT'S ABRAHAM LINCOLN THE GOAT," Muscle Man shouts before running to the fire exit as fast as he can.

"MEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" the goat shrieks.

I slowly turn my head to see a white goat with Abraham Lincoln's head on it.

"MEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" it shrieks again before running straight at me.

I try to run but my legs are frozen. I try to scream but my voice gets caught in my throat. All I can do is close my eyes and hope that he isn't running for me. If this is the end then I would like to say one last goodbye to my beloved pistachios. If only I had some with me right now, I would stuff my face with it.

I open my eyes only to see myself staring in Abraham Lincoln the goat's eyes as he runs through the never ending corridor to kill me. I could just run away now but I decide not to because it's already too late. It really isn't too late because he's been running on that escalator that appeared out of nowhere for the past five minutes and doesn't know that he isn't going anywhere but I'm just gonna stand here and milk the drama for the sake of it.

I stand there in complete silence listening to the mental goat's vicious growls and the music from the birthday party when I hear a low tune leaking out of the school's loudspeaker's.

Nuh nuh nuh, nuh nuh nuh, nuh nuh nuhnuhnuh nuh nuh nuh.

Something red and blue swings past me and something white shoots from it onto Abraham Lincoln's face. A spiderweb. Could it be? The blurry object lands beside me. Yup, it's Spiderman. He pulls of the mask to reveal Peter's face. Or more specifically, Tom Holland's face.

"Aren't you gonna say thank you?" he asks clearly annoyed but I'm distracted by Abraham Lincoln who has peeled the spiderweb off of his face and is currently stamping on it

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" he presses, waving a hand in front of my face.

Abraham Lincoln looks pretty vexed. He exhales deeply and a big cloud of dust forms around him. Should I be worried?

"-and this is what I get for trying to save a poor girl from being flattened by a mad goat. Is life really worth-"

I tune him out again and turn my attention to the goat.

Oh no. He's giving Tom Holland the death stare. Okay, I think it's now safe to say that Spiderman's definitely going to die. Goodbye.

"Um Tom, I need to-" I start.

"I'm not going to listen to you, you discourteous little scallywag," he snaps.

How old is he, he talks like he's from 1824, he didn't talk like this before...

"My name isn't even Tom! Father won't be happy when he hears this," he wails.

"If you're not Tom Holland who are you and why're you dressed as Spiderman?" I ask.

" I am Edward Dickens, Charles Dickens' son and I only wore this marvellous costume because I found it in my wardrobe. Mother says it brings out my eyes," Tom, or Edward, or Tedward explains.

Abraham Lincoln has gotten off the escalator. And he's running. Towards Tedward.

"Tedward! Watch out!" I warn.

Tedward stupidly turns around to face the raging goat and gets pummelled through the roof. Poor Tedward!

Abraham Lincoln runs at full speed to the fire exit.

"Lea, Lea."

I turn away the goat and turn to face the person who called me.

"Yes, Miss Cocaine."

"Lea, would you like to have some pistachio ice cream with the headteacher's butt. It's delicious."

"WHAT! YOU CAN'T RUIN THE PISTACHIO ICE CREAM. CAN'T YOU EAT THE BUTT BY ITSELF? OR USE COCAINE INSTEAD!"

"It's already too late Lea. Come and have a look"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I shoot up from my bed. Sweat running down my forehead and my fluffy bunny pyjamas clinging to me.

"NO! YOU CAN'T RUIN THE PISTACHIO ICE CREAM! I WON'T LET YOU!" I scream, strangling the air in front of me.

"What? I've been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes Lea. And what is all this about the pistachio ice cream? I told you that it's already really late and that you have to get up for school."

Well that was close. They nearly wasted all that good pistachio ice cream. Nobody wastes ice cream. Especially pistachio flavoured.

"Mum?" I question.

"Yes Lea?" she asks, curiously examining me.

"Do unicorns smoke beer and drink cigarettes?" I ask.

" You know what, I'm just going to forget this ever happened," she says, turning away from me, "Well get up. You have twenty minutes before you're late."

"Oh it's nothing. I just had a strange dream, that's all," I answer truthfully and cringe at my stupid question. Who doesn't know that unicorns don't exist.