Rachel starts a book club! Featuring two new stories: “The Little Man Who Powers Your Washing Machine,” a song about surprising origin of everyone’s favorite domestic appliance, written by Annabelle, an 11 year old from the UK, and “Squirrel Times News Paper,” about a storied rodential journalistic institution facing an uncertain future, written by a 9 year old from England named Jackie.
Scroll down for the original stories behind the episode!
Illustration by Camila Franklin
The Little Man Who Powers Your Washing Machine
by Annabelle, age 11, UK
Story Pirates adaptation of The Little Man Who Powers Your Washing Machine was written and produced by Eli Bolin and Mike Pettry
Squirrel Times News Paper
by Jackie, Age 9, UK
Roll Call Stories
The hamster who rode a sloth: Featuring cottage cheese onions!
by Ruthie, age 10, New York
Psst! Hey you, reader! Come here! No not you, the cat from Mars sitting next to you in algebra class. NO! Not Mr. Munchy! The good looking one who is also a goose named Shanty Beardpants Stuart Denis Baldguy Mr. Goosie Ducky Loony Undies Flabberbutt the 99999th who's wearing a beanie and a bowtie and the bowtie is actually an uncooked piece of bowtie pasta. Ok, ready... uhh, I'll just call you Shanty. OH NO not you again, actual reader, get out! Ok, this story is actually about... HOLD ON WAIT IS THAT A PIECE OF CHEWED GUM IN YOUR POCKET? GIMME!!! Ok, this story is actually about... cottage cheese onions! DUN DUN DUN! Ok now tree dude can come back. YO RANDOM ENSEMBLE THAT IS UNNAMED BECAUSE ENSEMBLE DUH! You can come now. *Chews gum* hmm, tastes like hamma (which by the way is just ham from 3 Grandmas which includes yours). Love it! *Ruthie walks in*: "Does anyone know how to get to America? This is New York. Tehe" *Ruthie walks out of the room*. Once upon a literal pretzel, there was a hamster named Bob. All he did was eat cottage cheese onions. Until one day, a sloth named speedy lil' boi was all like "Ya gotta get fit like me!" but like, slow cause the whole sloth thing. And then he flexed his muscles and snatched Bob onto (who was still eating cottage cheese onions and not protesting) and ran... really slowly. Bob didn't really care. He was asleep. GULP THOSE COTTAGE CHEESE ONIONS DOWN, BADDIES! The end of this one story that isn't the story. Previously unknown person: "Excuse me bu-" Class: Bless you! Previously unknown person: "What's a cottage cheese onion?" Ruthie: Easy! A cottage cheese onion is when you grandma crosses the universe on an overlarge loaf of orange bread and then marries a space chicken on a private jet only to fin- Class: The end!
Wear your hat day
by Cly, age 6, Montana
The Creature That Lives in the Box
by Lucy, age 9, New Jersey
This mysterious city called Jersey city had a building. Now this building has lots of issues. Rent control, floods caused by dryers setting on fire, crazy door men, and everything related to that. One thing that made the people out of control who of therewas the entrance to the garage. This is because you need a card for the gates to open. And sometimes that did not work. There was a box that you put your card in. And there was a voice trying to tell the people that you need to put the card inside the box. Not a banana shaped like a card in the box. The people who lived there thought the voice was just the doorman. But was it the doorman?
“MY CAR CAN’T GET IN!” The voice in the box heard another voice. A loud voice. A boomy voice. A scary voice. BEEP BEEP BEEP.
The box voice — and remember, it wasn’t a box or a voice, but a creature — shivered.
“I’m sorry!” The creature squeaked. “Could you try your card again?”
“NO.” The voice boomed.
The creature huddled lower in her box. And then she saw a tiny crack of light. It was very small, but so was she. If she could just squeeze then maybe, just maybe …
She was out! She took a deep breath. The world around her seemed very gray. Very loud. And very BIG. She saw the angry man inside the container, his face getting redder and redder. So that was her job. Her job was to let containers into the container room. Not a big job. Not an important job. Not a job to yell about. But it was her duty.
She got the card and was able to put it inside the box.
‘’About time’’! Yelled the not so angry man
‘’Sorry for the confusion’’! Squealed the creature
But another person came. She looked like she was late for something and stressed.
‘’Oh boy’’. said the cute little creature
‘’Come on, not again’’! Yelled the stressed lady
The creature knew what she had to do.
She had to get out of the box! Her box was safe and cozy. She had lived there her whole life. She wasn’t sure if she had been born in the box. The box had a tiny couch, a fake sunflower on a tiny table, and three postage stamps on the wall. One was of a manatee, one was of a fat man in a red suit, and one was of a flower. She had found them when they were dropped in the box.
“Excuse me?” She said in a timid voice.
“WHAT?”
“Excuse me?” She said louder. “I’m sorry, but you need to yell at something else. I’m coming out.”
She slipped out through the tiny crack, which was now a little bigger. Immediately, she was standing where she had been before — grey skies around her, gray sidewalk under her feet, and the rows and rows of containers in the container room on the other side of the yellow divider thingie. (she realized she needed to know more words)
And she ran. Or hopped. Or moved really fast. She didn’t know what she was doing. She got out of the container and jumped into, what we call, a sidewalk. She wanted to explore but she was still running. She climbed up a brown pole with green, flat, roundish things. She finally felt safe until she met a squirrel.
‘’What are you?!’’ said the frightened creature
‘’What are you?!!’’ said the brown squirrel
‘’ I, um, I don’t know what I am’’ the scared creature said with a sigh
Oh. I am birdy. Said the brown squirrel.
“I’m a birdy?” She asked.
“No.” The squirrel flicked it’s tail, annoyed. “My name is Birdy. It’s … a long story.”
“Am I a bird?”
The squirrel shook her head.
“I can’t tell what you are. You have white-ish fur. Maybe. But it’s pretty dirty. And you only have one foot. You look kind of like a blanket. Yeah! A blanket.”
The squirrel paused. The creature was gazing at her with round wide eyes.
“You … don’t know what a blanket is? Do you?”
“Yeah, I know what it is!” The creature said (she did not.)
“I think you’re a blanket. But not the kind people sleep with. No offense, but you look like a blanket for babies. Like, the kind babies suck on. You’re like, a baby blanket thing. But that’s cool.”
Was it? The creature thought. She looked down. She saw part of her body looked like it had drool on it that had long ago dried up. She did have eyes, but she realized what she thought were her hands were really just pointy corners with some fringe on them.
"Someone probably dropped you. Babies ALWAYS drop things around here," Birdy said.
“I'm not a blanket! I have a job!” The creature said importantly. “I WORK in the BOX. I am very sorry but I think I want to do my job again." But suddenly, a memory was creeping into the back of her mind. She remembered the unpleasant feeling of being crammed into a toddler's mouth. She remembered sticky fingers, a voice that said MOOWA BA LA FLARP GHDFV and ... falling, falling, falling, and then being picked up by another mouth. The other mouth had been less wet, much smaller ... and then she had been crammed in a box! Birdy was right.
‘’I have a job too!” Said Birdy i”I, uh, um, have a, uh, job to keep, um, baby blankets from going where they do not know where to go!”
Good one! Birdy thought in her head. ‘’And, well, I need to do it. I am sorry but you can’t go back in the box,” she continued.
“Wait …” The creature said. “So I’m helping you by not being in my box?”
“Yes!” said Birdy.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
A line of cars had formed halfway down the block. The gate wasn’t opening.
“Wait,” Birdy said. “Who did this job before you?”
The creature shrugged. Up on a branch above her, she could see a faded strip of blue cloth. She closed her eyes. She could vaguely remember. The blue fabric looked reassuring, friendly. Could it be …
“BOPPY?” She yelled.
The squiggle of fabric stopped blowing in the wind and straightened up. The creature could see its’ small black dots, the eyes that were so familiar.
“BEEPY!” The blue fabric yelled. “You made it out!”
Birdy the squirrel looked back and forth. And suddenly, she knew what to do. She had lied to Beepy about her job, but she realized it was her job. She remembered her own mom, yanking the blue strip of fabric out of the box right when she had been born, and using it to wrap around her tiny body.
Birdy ran down the tree and toward a stroller. She knew who she had to save.’’
“Ew, a squirrel!” The stroller pusher yelled. The stroller bumped onto the uneven edge of the sidewalk. A daffodil-yellow blanket — this one with a small head at the top that looked like a lion — bounced out of the sidewalk and fell onto the ground. The stroller pusher didn’t notice.
Birdy grabbed the blanket in her mouth.
“Where are you taking me?” The lion blanket roared, quietly. Birdy didn’t have time to talk. She hurried to the container room and shoved the yellow blanket into the crack in the box.
“LET ME IN!” Someone screamed toward the box.
A pause.
“One moment, please,” A tiny voice came out from the machine.
The snaky line of cars all erupted into beeps and cheers. The box was working again!
Birdy the squirrel scampered back up into the tree.
“Told you I had a job!” She said proudly.
Beepy and Boppy were nestled together happily. Birdy the squirrel curled up on top of them.
“I actually never want to work again,” Beepy said. “I just want to hang out with my friends. OUTSIDE of the box.”
The End
