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Stuck in the Stone Age

Page 1

by The Story Pirates




  COMING SOON: STORY PIRATES BOOK 2!

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Story Creation Zone

  Table of Contents

  What’s a Story, Anyway?

  How Does The Story Creation Zone Work?

  The Beginning

  Storytelling 101: What Kind of Story Is This?

  Write Like a Pro: Starting Stories Off with a BANG!

  Storytelling 101: The Main Character

  Science Fiction Zone: Astronauts, Aliens, and So Much More!

  Idea Storm: Main Character

  Write Like a Pro: Show, Don’t Tell

  Storytelling 101: Villains, Shape-shifters, and Minor Characters

  Storytelling 101: ANOTHER Main Character?!

  Storytelling 101: The Setting

  Science Fiction Zone: Sci-Fi Settings

  Idea Storm: Settings

  Storytelling 101: Reversals of Fortune

  Write Like a Pro: Research vs. Making Stuff Up

  Science Fiction Zone: Mostly Made-Up Inventions

  Storytelling 101: We’ve Got a Problem!

  Science Fiction Zone: Sci-Fi Problems

  Idea Storm: The Main Problem

  Storytelling 101: Make Your Problem HUGE

  Idea Storm: Make Your Problem HUGE!

  Write Like a Pro: Pacing For Excitement

  The Middle

  Storytelling 101: Obstacles

  Storytelling 101: Villain Check-In

  Write Like a Pro: The Five SIX! Senses of Setting

  Storytelling 101: A Big Twist!

  Write Like a Pro: Show BEFORE You Tell

  Storytelling 101: Trying! Failing. Trying Again!

  Storytelling 101: The Darkest Hour

  The End

  Storytelling 101: The Climax!

  Idea Storm: Plan the Climax

  Storytelling 101: Getting What They Want . . . In a Surprising Way

  Idea Storm: Did Your Character Change, Grow, or Learn?

  Appendix: Vince’s Original Idea (With Spoilers!)

  Acknowledgments

  A BRIEF MESSAGE FROM

  ROLO VINCENT

  CAPTAIN OF THE STORY PIRATES

  Hello, readers! Welcome to the first-ever Story Pirates book!

  If you’re wondering: “What’s a STORY PIRATE…?” we’re not actual pirates! We’re a motley crew of professional artists, teachers, and comedians who think kids have the BEST ideas. We don’t steal treasure—we collect kids’ stories and turn them into hilarious books, podcasts, videos, and shows. We even visit schools across the country, helping kids write stories that we perform for them LIVE ON STAGE!

  It’s amazing fun to help kids bring their stories to life! And that’s what this book is all about: we took an idea from one of our audience members, 11-year-old Vince Boberski of Memphis, Tennessee, and turned it into a WHOLE NOVEL!

  If you came here to read a great story and nothing else, flip ahead to Chapter 1 and dig in! I promise I won’t get mad. I’m a pirate—we’re very hard to offend.

  Seriously. Flip ahead! Get outta here! It’s fine.

  If you DIDN’T flip ahead, I have a surprise:

  Stuck in the Stone Age isn’t just a great story. It can help YOU create great stories of your own!

  In the back of this book is the STORY CREATION ZONE, a storytelling how-to guide! As you read the main story, Vince and I will pop up to point out parts of the SCZ that explain how Stuck in the Stone Age got built from Vince’s idea—and how YOU can build stories of your own!

  Want to see how it works? Turn to What’s a Story, Anyway? to find out.

  Did you go? Are you back? Pretty cool, right? If you create any stories of your own using the SCZ, we’d love to see them! Go online (with the help of a parent or guardian) and share them with us at StoryPirates.com!

  A BRIEF MESSAGE FROM

  VINCE BOBERSKI

  KID WRITER

  Hi! I’m Vince. I live in Memphis, Tennessee, with my mom and dad, a little sister who gets on my nerves (sometimes), and two dogs named Daisy and Lucy who don’t. My favorite sports are running and basketball. My favorite team is the Grizzlies, and my favorite player is Mike Conley. Go Grizz! I like playing saxophone in my school’s band and writing stories for school and for fun.

  My sister and I listen to the radio on the way to school, and that's where I heard about the Story Pirates contest. It sounded neat, so I sent in my story idea. A LONG time went by, and I kind of forgot about it. One night, my dad told me that we were going on a trip to New York. I had never been, and I was pretty excited.

  My dad and I checked into a hotel, and then we walked to a building that looked like it might be a museum. I got suspicious when someone started taking a video of us. When the elevator stopped, we got out (along with the guy following us with a camera), and went into a big glass room. There were a bunch of people in there wearing Story Pirates T-shirts, and they shouted, “Vince, we’re turning your story into a book!” Geoff Rodkey, the author, was there, too, and we talked about writing. They even had cookies. It was really exciting!

  I like writing because you can write whatever comes to your mind. Even if it doesn’t make sense, you can use your imagination to make it make sense. You can rewrite and edit until it’s just how you want. Sometimes something really great can come out of it! I never thought that so many people would hear about my idea, and I hope that it will help kids write just for fun.

  You are going to have a great time reading what Geoff Rodkey and the Story Pirates have made based on my idea. I hope it inspires and teaches you to write your own stories. Thank you for reading this book, and good luck!

  THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!” Hank yelled as he burst into Dr. Palindrome’s office.

  Hank was the janitor, and he was very angry. He was also very green. And not in the sense of being “full of envy” or “new to his job” or even “about to throw up.” Hank was literally green. His skin was the exact same shade as the paint on the walls of Lab Six.

  Lab Six was where, just moments before, Hank had mopped up an accidental spill. Dr. Salaam was experimenting with chameleon genes, and judging by the color of Hank’s skin, the experiment had just taken an exciting new turn.

  At least Dr. Salaam thought it was exciting. Hank did not agree.

  “YOU PEOPLE ARE NUTS!” he screamed at Dr. Palindrome. “I QUIT!”

  Dr. Palindrome sighed. He was the director of CEASE—the Center for Extremely Advanced Science Experiments. It was the world’s most famous research lab, and the hardest part about running it was finding janitors. The average CEASE janitor worked for less than two weeks before either quitting, suffering a career-ending injury, or just mysteriously disappearing.

  “Let’s not be hasty, Hank,” Dr. Palindrome said, pointing to one of the burgundy red leather chairs in his office. “Have a seat. We’ll talk.”

  Hank sat down and glared at Dr. Palindrome.

  “Now, why are you quit
ting?”

  “Are you kidding? LOOK AT ME! I’M GREEN!”

  “Actually, you’re more of a burgundy red at the moment.”

  Hank looked down at his arms, which now blended in perfectly with the chair. “Oh, for crying out loud! That stuff turned me into a chameleon!”

  Dr. Palindrome looked pained—not because of Hank, but because he was worried that whatever had turned Hank into a chameleon might have gotten on his chair. It was a very expensive chair, and Dr. Palindrome was quite fond of it.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Hank. Although I’d like to point out that chameleonism WAS one of the occupational hazards listed in your employment contract. Still, it shouldn’t be a problem as long as you spend the rest of your life standing next to things that are flesh-colored.”

  “If you had an ounce of shame, Doc, you’d shut this place down! It’s irresponsible! It’s life-threatening!”

  Only for janitors, thought Dr. Palindrome. But he didn’t say that out loud. Instead, he nodded sadly and said, “It’s true there are risks. But you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs. And of course, by ‘omelet,’ I mean ‘amazing scientific discoveries.’”

  And by “eggs,” he thought to himself, I mean “janitors.”

  Dr. Palindrome had learned from experience that it was best to keep most of his thoughts about janitors to himself.

  Hank understood what he meant anyway. “Go find yourself another egg, you creep!” Hank yelled as he stormed out.

  Dr. Palindrome scowled. He didn’t like being called a creep. He didn’t like finding janitors, either. But it was part of his job, so he picked up the phone to call the janitors’ union and order another one.

  Then he remembered. The janitors’ union had banned CEASE from hiring any more of its members.

  So had the temp agency, the job fair people, all the local schools, and the classified ad site that refused to run any more “janitor wanted” ads after some nasty business involving a radioactive gerbil.

  This was a real problem. If they were forced to clean up their own highly dangerous spills, splicings, and subatomic particles, CEASE’s scientists would start dropping like flies.

  Without a janitor, CEASE might…cease.

  Just the thought of it made Dr. Palindrome’s forehead sweaty with fear.

  Something had to be done, and quickly.

  But what…?

  A chameleon janitor?! What kind of story is this? See Storytelling 101: What Kind of Story Is This?

  That same moment, a young man was standing outside CEASE’s front door with a hopeful look on his face. His name was Tom Edison, and he was there to fulfill his dream of being a world-famous scientist.

  Now, you may be thinking, “Wait a minute—isn’t Tom Edison ALREADY a world-famous scientist?” Not exactly. Throughout history, there have been many Tom Edisons. And this was not THAT Tom Edison. He was simply A Tom Edison.

  Since you’ll be hearing a lot about this one, let’s call him OUR Tom Edison.

  Our Tom Edison loved everything about science. The life-changing discoveries! The exploring of the unknown! The mixing of occasionally dangerous chemicals! It was all very thrilling, and Tom dreamed of becoming not just a scientist, but an amazingly great one.

  Unfortunately for Tom, he was terrible at science.

  Even more unfortunately, he didn’t realize it.

  In school, his science grades had been awful. He got a D in Biology, an F in Chemistry, and an H in Physics (a grade that didn’t even exist until Tom’s teacher had to invent it to describe his performance). But bad grades didn’t discourage Tom. He’d once heard that Albert Einstein—one of the greatest scientists in history—had flunked math as a kid.

  This was a myth (Einstein’s math grades were fantastic—after all, he was Einstein), but Tom didn’t know that. So he decided his horrible grades were actually a sign that he was destined for Einstein-level greatness.

  All he needed was a chance to prove himself.

  He’d come to CEASE in search of that chance. This wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t even the tenth time. When your dream is to become a world-famous scientist, and there’s a whole lab full of them just a bike ride away from your house, it’s hard to resist dropping by, even if you never make it past the front desk.

  Tom had never made it past the front desk. And if he’d been anyone else, he probably would’ve been banned from even coming near the place by now.

  But he had one huge thing going for him: People really, really liked Tom. Everyone he met found him cheerful, kind, thoughtful, and fun to be around. CEASE’s receptionist, Doris, was no exception.

  Tom had brought Doris a jelly doughnut (her favorite), which was almost knocked out of his hand by the angry man who stormed out of CEASE just as Tom was walking in.

  “Excuse me! Sorry! Have a great day!” Tom said with a smile. The man, whose face strangely resembled a red leather chair, stomped off without a word.

  “Morning, Tom!” said Doris from behind the front desk.

  “Hi, Doris! Would you like a doughnut? I got extra.”

  “That is SO nice of you!”

  “My pleasure. Hey, want to hear my great idea for a new invention?”

  “Fire away,” said Doris through a mouthful of doughnut.

  “An electroquantum box…powered by gamma radiokinesis…that can bring dead people back to life! Whaddaya think?”

  “Did you get this idea from watching Star Trip?”

  “Yes, I did!” Most of Tom’s ideas for inventions came from Star Trip. He’d seen every episode at least three times. This was quite a feat, because when you included all of Star Trip’s companion series (like Beyond Star Trip and Star Trip: Theta Quadrant), there had been 927 episodes.

  “You DO know all the science on that show is fake. Right, Tom?”

  “Doris,” Tom sighed, “we’ve discussed this. Star Trip takes place in the twenty-seventh century. So the electroquantum box isn’t fake, it just hasn’t been invented yet! And I can be the one to invent it! All I need is a fluotanium capacitor ray!”

  “Which is not a real thing—”

  “Not yet! But if CEASE hires me, there could be a fluotanium capacitor ray in your future! Think about it, Doris.”

  “I will, Tom.”

  “So, can I get a job interview?”

  “Not today. I’m sorry!” Doris wanted to help him. Really, she did. But according to Tom’s resume (which he’d dropped off with her at least six times), his work experience as a scientist was limited to mixing dangerous chemicals in his garage. This didn’t always go well. In fact, Tom’s eyebrows were only just growing back after his latest experiment had ended very, very suddenly.

  He DID have an advanced degree in chemistry, but it came from a place called “the University of Bobby Z.” Doris had her doubts about the education Tom had gotten there.

  But she had no doubt at all that if she passed one of Tom’s resumes on to Dr. Palindrome, he’d fire her on the spot for wasting his time.

  “Don’t sweat it, Doris,” Tom said cheerfully. “You’ll come around eventually. How are Larry and the kids?”

  “Doing great, thanks for asking! We’re going to—oh, hello, Dr. Palindrome.”

  Dr. Palindrome had just come out of his office to ask Doris to call the local prison to find out if they had a work-release program for janitors. Tom gasped at the sight of one of his science heroes.

  “Ohmygosh, Dr. Emo Palindrome! I am a HUGE fan, sir! I even own your Famous Scientist Trading Card!”

  Dr. Palindrome was flattered…but also confused. “There are trading cards for famous scientists?”

  “Sort of. I made them myself! So there’s just the one set. But if you think about it, that makes them EXTREMELY RARE collector’s items! And I am VERY honored to meet you, sir!” Tom stuck out his hand eagerly. Dr. Palindrome shook it with a wary look.

  “And you are…?”

  “Tom Edison! Chemical reaction scientist!”

  “
And…what happened to your eyebrows?”

  “Chemical reaction. Just, y’know—BOOM! And they were gone. But they’re growing back fast! Sir, I am VERY interested in working for CEASE. Here’s my resume!”

  Doris winced as Tom handed Dr. Palindrome the spare resume he always kept in his back pocket. This probably wasn’t going to end well for Tom.

  Dr. Palindrome unfolded the resume and looked it over. “Edison…that sounds familiar…”

  “You’re probably thinking of the other Tom Edison? Inventor of the lightbulb? I’m not actually him—”

  “I suspected that…since he’s been dead for nearly a century.”

  “Right.”

  “Did you possibly”—Dr. Palindrome waggled Tom’s resume—“leave this under the windshield of my car once?”

  “More than once, yeah. That was me!”

  “And it says here you got your PhD in chemistry from the…University of Bobby Z?”

  “Yep! Good ol’ UBZ!”

  “Where’s that located?”

  “Mostly in the trunk of Bobby’s car. He’s got a real ‘do-it-yourself’ approach to education.”

  “I see. Well, Mr. Edison, why don’t you and your unusual resume…”

  Tom’s eyes widened with hope. Doris’s eyes squeezed shut with fear. Dr. Palindrome could be cruel at times, and she was sure this would be one of those times.

  “…come into my office and have a chat?”

  “Sure thing!”

  By the time Doris opened her eyes in surprise, Dr. Palindrome was closing his office door behind Tom.

  This Tom Edison guy seems important! Turn to Storytelling 101: The Main Character.

  Have a seat, Mr. Edison! Not in the red chair. Just to be safe.”

  Tom took a seat on the couch. He was too excited to wonder why it might not be safe to sit in the red chair. Dr. Palindrome took his usual spot behind his desk.

  “So—” Dr. Palindrome began.

  “Yes!”

  “You’re looking for a job?”

  “Am I ever! Doc, if you give me a shot, I’ll be the best scientist you’ve ever—”

 

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