Fiction Archives - the bird on fire

Cool to the Touch: Count Dracula (from Dracula, not Hotel Transylvania)

May 13, 2025 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

By 7th-Grade Poet Sophia Bottine

This past week, Sophia and her baguettes were the hit of the Entrepreneur Fair. When it comes to literature, however, she’s drawn to something a little less wholesome than bread.

I chose Count Dracula from Dracula as my favorite villain because I think that he is a very good villain for my type of poems. I love dark, creepy stories, and Dracula is one of my favorites. Dracula is a part of a very good movie and book by Bram Stoker called Dracula. I think that everyone should know the story–especially since Dracula is inspired by a real historical figure named Vlad the Impaler.

Count Dracula,

Dark, bloodthirsty, unforgiving,

A vampire, worthy of his title.

Slithering through the night,

Crawling into houses,

Preying on the young

With blood, sweet and addictive

No man,

No matter how strong

Or clever,

Can escape from his clutches

You might get fooled though,

By his handsome appearance,

With his dark, slicked-back hair,

Pale, ghostly skin,

Black, emotionless eyes

And smug, condescending smirk

Everything about him pulls you in.

But don’t fall into his trap,

Because he will kill.

He will burn.

He will destroy.

He will do whatever is needed

Whatever he wants

All while laughing.

He is the mightiest,

The cleverest,

The monstrous,

An honorable King,

Count Dracula…

How Not to Ski, with Mark and David

April 1, 2025 by szachik@pvs.org 5 Comments

By Middle-School Blogger and Graphic Artist Mark Huber

Part 1

“Hey, Mark, you okay?” David, my brother, asked me. My name is Mark, obviously, because that’s what David had called me. Anyway, I had just crashed into a tree while skiing, and I had hit it so hard that the snow on the leaves fell off and buried me.

I shook the snow off and did a thumbs-up, then put my skis back on.

“Whoa, Mark, look at that!” said David. There was a guy on a snowboard who had just slid on a railing and stuck his landing.

“That’s great,” I said. I now said that so often, that my parents thought of it as “my new catchphrase.”

We hopped back onto the trail, and I was heading straight for a ramp. I raced onto it, and then promptly veered off of the left side of the ramp, and into the forest (veering off the trail was a huge accident). I was still on my skis, and was still going fast. I had to dodge trees, boulders, and dead bushes. I had no idea where in the ski resort I was, or if I was still in it at all. Then, I saw a clearing, and darted toward it. Then, I fell into a ravine.

“AAAAAAAHHHHNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!” I screamed, and tumbled into who-knows-where. I could no longer see any light, and when I finally stopped tumbling, I hurt all over my body.

“Ow, I huurt aallll oooovvvvveeeeee…” I said, my words slurring.

And then I passed out.

I woke up in a hospital. I had all sorts of things attached to me, and my family was next to me, and they looked really worried.

“Hey, Mark, you okay?” David said, but less casual and much more worriedly than the last time he said it.

“Aye, aye, captain,” I said. David giggled the tiniest bit.

“What time is it?” David asked Mom.

“1:04,” she said.

“That’s great,” I said. Then, I looked out the window, and finally processed what Mom had said.

“WHAT?!?! You guys are 4 hours from home at one in the morning all because of ME?!?!” I said, worried about everyone’s sleep.

“Shhhh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shhhhhhhhh!!!” said Mom. “Be quiet, there’s other people.”

“Oh, it looks like Mark is ready to get out!” said a doctor. Then, he and the other doctors removed all the thingamajigs from my body, and I went to sleep.

I woke up in our hotel room inside the ski resort’s hotel. I was on the nice, comfy bed in the corner of the room. Then I fell off the bed. The people who had rescued me had apparently grabbed my skis along with me out of the ravine, so I saw them leaning against the wall.

I put a beanie on, grabbed my skis, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going, Mark?” asked Dad.

“Ski,” I mumbled sleepily.

“Wait, what? Nonononononono-” said David. Then I closed the door, and went down to the ski trails to ski. I picked a really steep one, and went down it. I gained speed pretty quickly, and soon everything next to me was a big blur.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHWWWWWWWWHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed, feeling really happy.

I saw a hill, with a sign saying “DO NOT ENTER.” I needed to take a tight turn, but I knew that if I did, I’d wipe out, big-time. Besides, I couldn’t control myself anymore. I would go on the hill, fly off, and land in who-knows-where. And that was exactly what I did.

I could make out the hotel that my family was in. Oh, no, I thought realizing that I would crash. Right before the impact, I saw David turn around towards the window, and make a very surprised face.

THUMP.

You should’ve seen me in that window when I hit it. Speaking of which, you can make something showing me in that window with Google Drawings, and online drawing tool that…

No. I am not telling you about this blog post’s sponsor in the middle of the story. But, here’s the picture anyway:

“Mom, mom! Open the window, Mark’s back!” I heard David say, muffled through the glass.

Mom opened the window, and I told her what happened.

“Wow, that’s COOL, Mark! You really skied up a hill and flew off onto the window?” said David in awe.

“Yeah, I did. Now, I’m gonna rest because my head hurts,” I said.

And then I went to sleep.

Part 2

“Rise and shine, buds!” said Dad.

“Aayyy, let’s go skiin’!” I said.

I put on my skis, and waited for everyone to put on theirs. Then, we went to the trail where I had flown off that hill and back to the hotel room. When we got there, David gulped.

“Uh, Mark, are you sure about this?” David said, a bit of fear in his voice.

“Yeah, totally!” I said. “I’ll lead the way.”

We headed down, and we all went cautiously slow down the trail. When we saw the hill ahead, I told my family to go the normal way, and I’d go on the hill again. They were very unsure of this, despite my telling them that I’d go slower, and I finally convinced them to let me go.

What I was thinking was that because the trail goes around the hill, taking the hill would be like a shortcut.

I was in the air, having a great time, and I could see the surprised faces of my family watching me fall with style towards the ground, when I got shot by a missile.

Who would do that? Chris Ideeyowt, whose life mission is to destroy me because I got him expelled from my school (to be fair, he was the biggest bully at my school and was feared by all the kids).

“Darn you, Chris!!!” I yelled, and me and my flaming butt fell way off the trail, into the snow, where fortunately my butt was extinguished. I saw a helicopter above me, and a little orange dot inside of it. Then, I saw the helicopter shoot more missiles at me. I opened my mouth wide enough to let a missile through, and the missiles went into my mouth. I spit them, rapid-fire, at Chris’s helicopter, and it blew up.

In reaction to this, Chris said some very bad words. I got back on the trail, and met with my family again.

“Sorry, had to attend to some Chris problems,” I said.

“Err, Mark… you’re crispy on one side, and your butt is charred,” commented David.

“Great,” I said.

“Uh-oh, Chris comes to town,” said David. That was what we said when Chris was around. I got a banana out of my snout storage and threw it at Chris. (Chris hates bananas for some reason.)

“Enjoy!” I said to Chris, just to annoy him even more.

Epilogue

We went back to the hotel, and took our skis off after a long day of skiing. I made a joke that the last three days of skiing should be called “How NOT to Ski, with Mark and David” in the hotel room.

When we got back home, I decided to write a Google Doc about what we did at the ski resort. My parents and David really liked it, and I decided to post it on my school blog.

And that is the long story that you just read.

The end

Perfect . . . if only the ending were different

September 14, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

In R.F. Kuang’s recently released “satirical literary thriller”* Yellowface, the writing-workshop characters answer, “What’s a book that would be perfect if you could rewrite the ending?” I put the question to our bloggers, allowing them to include movies, TV series, and short stories in their replies.

*New York Times

**Spoiler Alert: Story endings will be revealed in the following commentaries on The Road, The Giver, The Flash, and The Parent Trap.
Blog Instructor Zachik

**Oliver Martinez rewrites The Road.**

The book The Road ends with the dad dying and the boy leaving with another family. Although it may be a strong ending, I personally believe that it would’ve been better if they ended up waking from a dream and waking up in a better place. Since the whole book in general is very sad, maybe this would’ve made it seem less depressing.

**Gil Maruvada adds to The Giver.**

I would end The Giver with Jonas waking up in the snow in the morning holding the child Gabriel at the bottom of the hill he rolled down, the sled and houses having been a hallucination of his addled mind. He would find some food to eat, and search for civilization while investigating the outside world and what happened; additionally, he would explore the boundaries of the civilization he left. Eventually Gabriel would return as a teen and see what had become of the civilization they had left behind and the infighting that had occurred, and it would philosophically reinforce the themes of the novel while addressing the complexities of revolution and changing society.

**Louisa Richardson advocates shortening The Flash TV series.**

A tv show that would be perfect without the ending is The Flash. I absolutely love superheroes and the first season of that show was literal perfection . . . . Although almost everyone hates it now, it was one of the best DC shows . . . . The casting was great; the CGI was good . . . , and the general premise was great. After season 5, I think everything went downhill. The cast got too big; the CGI was horrible, and the script was so repetitive. If I could change it, I’d probably just make it so that The Flash ended after season 5 but maybe without the random long lost daughter from the future part.

Indy Behr champions the villain of The Parent Trap (again).

I get why the twins’ father Nick chose them over his ex Meredith Blake, but I still wish that they hadn’t ended her story by having her storm off angrily. I don’t think she was the villain, which I wrote a blog article*** about. . . . I do not think this ending was appropriate.

*FYI: Blog class voted for Louisa’s rewrite. Which do you like? If given the chance, what story ending would you rewrite?

***“Why Lindsay Lohan’s ‘The Parent Trap’ is the Greatest Movie Ever Made and Often the Most Misunderstood” by Indiana Behr

Several Deep Sea Journeys; Volume 3, Episode 8: The Retrieval

May 9, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

By Special Guest Blogger and Math Teacher Extraordinaire, Mr. Eric Hesson

Note: The following is a work of fiction written with no regard for scientific accuracy. The technical terminology used is meaningless nonsense included because it sounded nice.
Mr. Hesson

Commander Jechtus Appleberry floated above the seabed, eyeing the makeshift contraption.

“Set axial ray to drop at 1.4 lithometers.”

Lead Engineer Pepper Marshelina was at his side, gripping a stabilizing rod for support as she tapped commands into the console.

“Copy, ax to drop at one-four.”

“Stabilize revert cable.”

“Stabilizing… cable set.”

“Alright. Initialize retrieval protocol in 3… 2… 1… NOW.”

Pepper flipped a switch and the mobile generator rumbled to life. Power flowed to the junction and the retrieval cage dropped through the fissure and plummeted into the abyss. Jechtus sighed with relief.

“Keep an eye on degradation. We can’t afford to lose this one.”

“Copy. Holding so far. Pressure’s reading at ten off max.”

Their eyes were fixed on the monitors, scanning the data as it poured in, parsing for anomalies. A soft thump echoed from below.

“Axial ray in place. Continuing descent.”

The generator’s hum seemed to grow louder, wailing against the silence of the sea.

“You like pancakes?”

“What?”

“Flapjacks. You know. Hot off the griddle. Sopping with butter.”
“Respectfully, sir, I… don’t really have an opinion.”

“You don’t like them?”

‘I’m not sure I’ve had them.’

“What? Really?”
“I’ve had crepes.”

“Ew, what? No. I’m talking rich buttermilk hotcakes! Stacked up and slathered in syrup!”

Pepper shook her head. The light from her helmet swiveled across the seafloor, illuminating hosts of strange fungi in the distance.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to hector you. I’m just homesick. We’ve been out here so long. I retreat into my memories. Breakfast on a summer morning. Fixing coffee for my mother while she doted on her swans. Pancakes…”

“I’ll have to try some. If we make it back.”
“When.”

“Right…”

The cable snapped tight. The cage had completed its descent.

“Contact?”

“Positive.”

“Ok. Let’s bring it in.”

Pepper flipped another switch on the control array, and sixty fathoms below them the gripping clamp jutted from its casing, slid toward the target, and clenched its mechanical fist.

“Clamp is locked. We have the artifact.”

Pepper turned to face him and they shared a smile, squinting in each others’ lamplight. But her eyes were pulled upward by a distant trick of light, a swaying glint upon the darkness…

They felt it then, a pressure bearing down through the waters. And with it a sound, a deep and heavy groan.

The pressure intensified. Something was moving, something close. And then it caught the light, and they saw it – a tentacle, of incomprehensible size, hurtling down from above. It passed mere meters from their post… and slammed into the seafloor, knocking up a massive torrent of debris and rocketing the surveyors helplessly out into the void.

*The Bird on Fire welcomes guest submissions–especially from teachers.

The Void

May 3, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

What if your home town suddenly was “erased”? Louisa takes us into the void.

A Fictional Imagining By Middle-School Blogger Louisa Richardson

When I drove home from Nebraska that day, I didn’t think it would have been any different than the usual commute home for Christmas. I was thinking about Aunty Sharon, about the last time I saw her. As I drove, it struck me – the population of Red-ton County was getting smaller and smaller. I realized there were no cars at all, no people either. I started to worry, until I saw the familiar blinking blue light on in the Red-ton County Library. It was reassuring, . . . until it grew brighter, and brighter. And then it was gone.

I had closed my eyes because of the brightness of the blue light, and when I opened my eyes, I saw nothing, and everything all at once.

I stepped out of the car and walked into the bright blinding lights; it was all white, and void-like. I immediately picked up my cell to call my parents, but when I looked through my contacts, there was no one there. Aunty Sharon, my sister, my two brothers, my parents, no one living in Red-ton County was on my list of contacts. It was as though they had all disappeared into this sort of void–with my entire home town. I turned around to look for an exit, but there was nothing there. The closer I got to the space through which I entered this void, the further that space drifted away.

This was the moment that I started to freak out. Everything was gone. At first I was confused, then I got angry. The void grew into a sort of white room, with blinding white paint that you couldn’t touch because every time you started near the walls they got further and further away. The white void went on forever; it seemed to be endless. I tried searching for an escape. Time passed; time elapsed; my hair grew out until it touched my hips. Eventually I gave up. I sat, and hugged my knees close, rocking back and forth. That’s when the chanting started. “Gone far away” was all I heard, the same three words over and over again. The voices were what made me regain the strength to get out of there. I hadn’t eaten, drunk, or slept. I still don’t know how I managed to survive. I got up and started running towards anything, anything other than the blinding white light that seemed to be everywhere, surrounding me. I finally found a door after running in the same direction until the void just couldn’t grow anymore. I don’t know if it appeared or if it had always been there, or if it was even real. I didn’t go through it immediately. I paused. I hesitated. I didn’t know if I would find a giant black void, or more white. I waited, until the voices began to morph into the words “Go.” I finally opened the door. I walked out.

Then, promptly I collapsed. Whatever happened next, I don’t remember. I drifted in and out of consciousness; people poked at my eyes, and injected me with medications I couldn’t pronounce. I finally woke up days later; I was out of it, but I remember the happiness I felt when I finally saw another living being. The doctor said that I was in a bad condition, dehydrated, suffering from weight loss. He said it looked like I had been stranded somewhere for years. I remember him muttering to the nurse, “I don’t get it, she seemed fine last week.” My brain began to scramble; I tried to think of my life before the void, my family. I could barely remember the memories I tried so hard to never forget. The doctor looked at me with concern. He later revealed that I had come in for a doctor’s appointment the week before, but I had no recollection of it. As far as I was concerned, I had been stuck in that void for more than a year and a half. That’s about the amount of time it takes to grow your pixie cut to your knees. But that’s not what the nurses said. I tried to explain it to all of them; they just never got it. They said that Red-ton didn’t exist. My neighbors said that I went away for a day, and they heard that I was in the hospital something like an hour later. It didn’t make sense. Did time pass differently here? Do I have any family? As soon as I was released, I searched for clues. I followed the road to Aunt Sharon’s house, and there was nothing there. I must have retraced my steps a thousand times. I tried to unscramble the days spent in the void. Nothing was working. I was so desperate, I called a therapist. She didn’t believe me either. A few months later, the nightmares started. I was back in the void; I had never escaped. I woke up screaming every night after that. No one seemed to believe me. I barely believed myself anymore.

After that the police came to my house and took me in for questioning. Apparently after every one of my neighbors reported me for “odd activity” it seemed the only reasonable option for the cops. Since there was so much evidence that I was crazy, they put me in some mental institution for the “intellectually disturbed.” Life went on for everyone but the victims of the void. They were gone. Towards “the end,” I had no memories of a life outside of the white nothingness. Eventually, I became engulfed in the memories of the void, unable to think of anything but the bright lights. Tortured in a trap of my own mindset.

The End

The Little Fish That Never Could

May 2, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 3 Comments

As the Blog Staff imagines how life would have progressed with certain figures or events “erased,” Levi imagines(?) what life would have been if the “missing link” never crawled from the seas onto land.

By Junior Levi Kassinove

“A real life ‘tail’ of what would have happened 400 billion years ago if fish never walked on the land.”
Levi Kassinove

400 billion years ago, one brave aquarian caused a paradigm shift in the fabric of reality when he, Gleb, dared to travel above the surface. He saw unimaginable, incomprehensible sights. He gazed upon fantastical green mountains stretched across the horizon, giant blue mushrooms gossiping amongst themselves (presumably about our Gleb), and an old alte kaker of a rainbow eucalyptus tree yelling at clouds off in a forgotten corner of the forest. In the distance, there was a sick broadsword, a remnant of a lost civilization, halfway stuck in a boulder calling Gleb’s name. Alongside that was a goblin man eagerly waiting for someone’s arrival. On the ground and in the mountains, Gleb saw impossible materials. Impenetrable ore. Beauty beyond measure. Dragons flew freely in the skies. They flew freely.

Gleb laid his eyes upon these sights, pathetically flopping about the sandy shore. The sand was coarse, like some brands of Himalayan pink salt, and it clawed and tore at his flesh. By the time Gleb decided with a nasally inner voice that it was time to head back into the ocean, he looked like Prometheus after an eagle was sent to peck out his liver.

The Ghoti Residence – An anemone in the Pacific Ocean

“…And that is the story of Gleb, the heroic clownfish.”

“Can you please tell us another bedtime story, Momma?” asked little Steven.

“No, it’s time to go to sleep, Steven,” answered Momma Ghoti.

“That was a stupid story. Everyone knows that Gleb wasn’t real. It’s just a fairy tale,” snarled Steven’s brother Jack.

Momma Ghoti grew angry, while little Steven gasped. Now distraught, little Steven called for his father, Daddy Ghoti. A sullen, aged parrotfish materialized through the anemone. He had an intelligent demeanor, although there was no hope or ambition left in his eyes. He had heard and been fooled by the same story so many times. Daddy Ghoti comforted little Steven through his first existential crisis, and they fell asleep beside each other. “The Ballad of Gleb” never happened. Really, no fish had ever gone beyond the surface, and lived to tell the tale. There was a period in time when fish were interested in the place between sea and clouds, when Ernest Herringway wrote extensively about it. But it was not their lack of bravery that prevented various fish from reaching beyond; it was the crabs who were mostly to blame.

Crabs are the guardians of exploration and self-improvement. They are the fun police. The ones who tell you No, that’s a bad idea; or You should not take that risk because you’re just gonna fail. They are also the ones who narc on seaweed dealers at music festivals. In a distant universe, where fish somehow did make it onto land, the earth’s main inhabitants are vile creatures called humans. The one thing humans are good at is keeping crabs in a bucket. You know why? Because whenever one crab tries to escape, all the other crabs would pull the escapee back down with their claws. The humans don’t even have to do anything because the only thing crabs hate more than others is…themselves. Now, the ocean can be thought of as one giant bucket. The crabs are the reason why no fish has ever gone beyond the surface.

Mundanity

The water is filled with crab-cameras. They are in every road, every corner, every alleyway, and every home. CRABF (Crustaceans Really Against Basic Freedoms) is an organization outside of the government and beyond the police. Their main goal is to prevent any marine life from escaping the ocean. Daddy Ghoti was another nobody stuck in the shrimp-race; he thought deeply and with concerns about CRABF on his way to work. He reasoned that CRABF must have convinced several governments of the benefits of total control, stripping any politician of their humanifish. Benefits that he, along with millions of others, were lied to about: benefits such as “reducing crime rates” and “increasing safety.” Are those really benefits? rang through Daddy Ghoti’s head. There was a splinter in his mind, like a pebble you can’t get out of your shoe. He swam on, careful not to go over the speed limit. If the crab-cameras notice any unpredictable or idiosyncratic behavior, the perpetrator will be taken in for interrogation and then possibly executed. What do you think happened to Ernest Herringway? There are no jails. That was another promise made by governments, another benefit. Yes, it is true that upon partnering with CRABF, jails were abolished around the ocean. Jails are gone. There are no jails. There is little to no crime anywhere. Everyone obeys the law. The absolute law. Don’t even think about courthouses. If you’re innocent, you should have nothing to worry about. Don’t go beyond the surface. Stay in your bubble. Get back in line. There are no more jails.

A little red dot flashed inside Daddy Ghoti’s head. It was barely visible, perhaps only visible to the surrounding plankton. He thought of his sons–little Steven, and Jack, who was recently arrested for swimming too close to the surface–and his beloved Momma Ghoti, who knows in her heart that the world isn’t right. But she ignores it because it’s uncomfortable, and she has kids to worry about, after all.

Molecules of water drift aimlessly. For a moment, flowers bloom on the roots of trees, and mountains blow in the wind like leaves.

He kept on swimming.

Tinalina: Girl from the Grass

March 22, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

By Eighth-Grader Louisa Richardson

Once Upon A Time…

. . . There lived a small fairy. She lived on the great lawn of Buckingham Palace. Her house was an old peanut shell which was practically a mansion compared to the Mushroom Apartments she and her family used to live in. This little fairy girl’s name was Tinalina. She was an ordinary little fairy girl who lived with her two brothers and one sister. However, she tragically lost her fairy father due to an incident involving one of the Palace Guard’s shoes.

Tina often thought about that day. She wondered if the humans knew that they existed. Her kind had always lived in harmony with the other animals big and small in the lawn. Tina had never really been outside of the gates surrounding the lawn; she heard rumors about tunnels leading to the outside world. However, many families at fairy school had lost a family member or friend due to shoes or, worse, a tire. Venturing out of the great lawn was always a consideration to Tina as a little hatchling, but there were those stories involving the horrors of the outside world. Because of this, Tinalina was always very cautious when venturing outside her peanut.

One day while walking to school, she saw something amazing–it was a tunnel leading to the sidewalks outside of the gates. The tunnels existed. She immediately ran to inspect it. Tinalina had never seen over the grass, so she wasn’t really sure who lived outside the gates. She imagined it was probably more grasshoppers and ladybugs. Curiosity grabbed a hold of her, and, before she knew it, she was climbing down into the tunnel, but as she tried to make her way down, she caught her wing on a little ledge. All of the sudden, she fell into the deep dark pit.

After falling to the very bottom of the tunnel, she looked around. All around her were beautiful crystals, and a small sign with an arrow stating, “Outside World This Way.” Tina was so small, she never really knew that there was more to the Outside World beyond the Buckingham Palace lawn. Tinalina’s curiosity got the better of her, and she ventured out in the direction of the sign. Once she reached beyond the sign, she noticed that the tunnel lost the crystals that lined the walls, and things started to get very dark and gloomy. Finally, she saw a light. She ran to the end of the tunnel. Outside was a huge shoe. It was bigger than any of the grasshoppers she’d seen before, even bigger than a pinecone! All she could do was stand perfectly still until the foot passed with a loud thud. Tina’s mouth hung open as she watched all the commotion and chaos outside the tunnel–huge children screaming, gigantic mothers chasing, and enormous couples pointing at the castle. Tina was in awe. She took a step into the new world and began to explore. She flew over the traveling cars and took a closer look at the palace. It was one of the most beautiful places she has ever seen. All of a sudden, she heard someone clear their throat. She felt someone pluck her out of the air, and before she could even think, she was aggressively thrown into a dark, moist, bag.

TO BE CONTINUED

Why Lindsay Lohan’s “The Parent Trap” is the Greatest Movie Ever Made and Often the Most Misunderstood

March 16, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

By Junior Indiana Behr

I know that’s a long title, but hear me out. My favorite movie of all time is the 1998 version of The Parent Trap. I think it is genuinely flawlessly crafted. It incorporates elements of a classic romantic comedy, but the dramatic elements are also done well. It may be a Disney movie, but there is no doubt this film can be enjoyed by people of all ages. I think that it is also misinterpreted by most people who watch this film. I think that the character often viewed as the villain, Meredith Blake–the stepmother-to-be, is not a villain at all, and is a much more complex and layered character than one might think after the first watch. I argue that the twins are actually the villains of this film.

Why The Parent Trap (1998) is the Best Movie Ever Made

I genuinely do not enjoy a single movie more than I enjoy The Parent Trap. This film is of course a remake of a film of the same name that was released in 1961. I have seen the 1961 version a few times, and I think it is a very well made movie. However, I actually think the 1998 film is an improvement upon the original. Most Disney remakes are pretty underwhelming, especially the ones that turned animated movies into live action. I feel like this version is an exception.

It may be inspired by an older movie, but the creators of the remake were willing to make any changes they felt necessary to keep the story fresh and contemporary, and I felt like it was successful. In the original film, both twins were from different parts of the United States. In the remake, Hallie is from Napa, California, all the way in the Western US, while Annie is from London, England. I think this makes the culture shock more significant, as it is two different countries rather than just two regions of the US.

I find Hayley Mills’ performance in the 1961 movie to be very good, but I find Lindsay Lohan’s performance to be even more impressive. Lindsay Lohan was just 11 during filming for the 1998 film; whereas Mills was already 15 during production. Additionally, Lohan had to learn an accent from an entirely different country, and I think she did so skillfully. Mills only had to learn the accent of another region of the US. I also generally think the other performances in the 1998 version, such as the butler and housekeeper, were better, and I think the humor has stood the test of time better than the predecessor.

Another reason I really like this movie is the music. I think the soundtrack of this film is excellent. The opening credits that show a montage of the twins’ parents meeting on the Queen Elizabeth 2 ocean liner set to Nat King Cole’s L-O-V-E is probably my favorite movie opening ever. Whether it’s the suspenseful music heard during the scenes at the summer camp in the beginning or the Beatles’ Here Comes the Sun when Hallie (pretending to be Annie) helps her mother, Elizabeth James, at her fashion business, I think that the music is perfectly done from beginning to end.

Why the Twins Are Actually the Villains and Meredith Blake Wasn’t Actually That Bad

Both versions of The Parent Trap have the repeatedly used evil step-mother trope, but part of why I prefer the 1998 edition is because I think the character of Meredith Blake was a much more complex and layered character than Vicky Robinson, her 1961 equivalent. Over the last few years, many others have come to this conclusion, and in 2022, Elaine Hendrix, who portrayed Meredith Blake, stated that she sympathized with her character. She even made a TikTok with the caption, “He had twins he secretly separated at birth when he broke up with their mother and didn’t tell you about it until the twins discovered each other at camp and swapped places to try and get their parents back together.” Really makes you think, huh? Maybe the twins and their father were the villains more than Meredith…

I am not going to lie to you, when I first watched this film, I thought of Meredith Blake as a classic Disney villain, but after hearing others’ opinions and watching it again, I have started to understand Meredith Blake’s actions. Even after they first meet, Annie, pretending to be Hallie, is incredibly passive aggressive towards her, intentionally splashing her with water by aggressively jumping into her pool, and then blatantly lying by calling her “number twenty-nine” when it had already been established she was the first relationship her father, Nick Parker, had entered since the twins’ birth. Then, after Annie describes this interaction by phone, Hallie states, “Well, you’ll just have to break ’em up. Sabotage her. Do whatever you have to.”

When I advocate to others that Meredith Blake was not actually as bad as she is made out to be, their rebuttal is often that she stated that she wanted to send Annie to boarding school. However, I think this was just hyperbole, especially considering she never seemed to make any effort to go through with it. I do not think you can blame her for being somewhat angry about her boyfriend’s daughter being incredibly nasty towards her after meeting just once.

Once the twins successfully get their parents to reunite in San Francisco, the twins and their parents go back to Napa where their father lives after Hallie convinces them to go on their annual camping trip with her father. However, before leaving, Elizabeth, not a fan of the outdoors, tells Nick that she thinks it would be better if Meredith went instead. The twins were unsurprisingly unhappy with this, but Elizabeth insisted. Then, during this trip, the twins are horrifically cruel towards her. They put a lizard on her head, which crawls into her mouth first. Then, they give her sugar water claiming it will help with mosquitoes, and tell her that whacking two sticks together will scare off the mountain lions. There were in fact no mountain lions where they were camping.

Then, after all of this, the twins do something that ultimately destroys Meredith and Nick’s relationship. They take Meredith’s air mattress from her tent, and place it in the lake at the camping site, and she floats away asleep, only to wake up in the morning in the middle of the lake. First of all, this is obviously just a horrible thing to do to someone. Second of all, this is dangerous! Falling into the middle of a river when you are asleep could very well cause drowning. After this, Meredith approaches Nick and says he has to pick between the twins and her. I think him picking the kids was obviously the right decision, but I very much sympathize with her.

Overall, I recognize Meredith Blake is kind of aggressive at times, but I also think she is a very determined character who knows what she wants. I think it’s fair to say that money may be a part of her interest in Nick, but I do not think he was oblivious to this, and I do think she probably liked him. This very complex character is part of why I like this movie so much, and why I prefer it over the original movie. I think you should try watching or rewatching The Parent Trap (1998) with this perspective in mind.

The Escape Artist Hamster

February 28, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

By Junior Levi Kassinove

Meet Potter, formerly of the Kassinove household. Below is his story of escape as told by Potter himself.

Note: This story is loosely based on real events in my life. All methods of escape were really executed by my hamster 10 years ago.

1200 Hours

Although I do not know my birth name, the name given to me by the curly-haired human is Potter. For posterity, I am currently typing this via a nanoscale jerry-rigged Raspberry Pi that I smuggled inside of my cheeks on my way out of PetSmart, along with a tiny monitor and keyboard, of course. Either my cheeks are THAT big, or I’ve essentially made a quantum computer, hehe. Anyway, I need to get out of here. This cage is insulting…to my intelligence. I used the human to get out of PetSmart, which was the first step in my plan to gain total freedom. Now, I just need to escape this hippo’s house. Man, I feel like Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk. In other words, me small: curly-haired human big like whale. I’ll be right back; Fee Fi Foh Fum is coming.

Update 1: 1220 Hours

Eughgh, what does he think I am? A stress ball? Oh, I didn’t mean to write that. I have to find a way to turn off speech to text, or maybe I should just stop talking to myself. Whatever, it helps me keep my head clear. I’m going to need a clear head if I want to escape this godforsaken place. My cage has about the same area as a 2×1 square if measured in bananas. The dogs are always barking at the wind, and the house smells…unnatural. I want to know what the Earth smells like, and how it feels to walk on its dirt. I will wait until nightfall to execute my escape plan. This cage doesn’t even have a lock; it’s just a door on the roof. I bet I can pop it open with brute force…

Update 2: 2300 Hours

Unfortunately, eyesight is not one of my redeeming qualities. After wandering aimlessly around the house for a while, I started to worry that I may eventually bump into one of the dogs. So, I am currently ~~hiding~~ camping out in a closet for the night. I did memorize the location of several windows, however, and so I will make my great escape tomorrow night. I had also planned for this eventuality. Before I left, I stored some bedding in my cheeks to sleep on.

Update 3: 0100 Hours (Next Day)

They found me. Those porpoises laughed at me for 5 whole minutes before returning me to my cage. This time, they taped the roof shut. Luckily there’s a circular backdoor used to attach those spine-deforming overpriced tubes to “keep us entertained.” All I have to do is twist off the cap…

Update 4: 0500 Hours

At this time of day, the house is somewhat illuminated, but the giant sloths are still asleep. It should be the perfect time to escape; however, cheekiness has taken over me. On my way out, I was struck by a conviction. I should scare the humans as a parting gift. And so, that is how I ended up spending the better part of an hour resting on top of the curly-haired human’s brother’s head. I am currently waiting for him to wake up. Muahahahhaha

Update 5: 1300 Hours

Although my back may be bruised after being flung against a wall, hearing the screams of the blonde gorilla was totally worth it. But, now, I am in a bit of a pickle. Instead of buying me a new cage with a lock, which I could easily escape from, those penny-pinchers just taped the backdoor shut. I am left with no choice but to use my ultimate weapon…

Update 6: Who cares about human time? I’m free!

I don’t know the point of labeling tape “biodegradable” if it can’t be safely eaten by a hamster. I feel like I poisoned myself. No matter, I can finally see the moon. And soon, I will see the sun. But…this place…it’s suburban. I still have a long way to go before I can find a decent forest or mountain or whatever my natural habitat is. Until then, this is Potter signing off.

This may or may not be the last known photo of Potter (https://petcareeducation.com/black-bear-hamsters/).

The after.

January 10, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

The life and times of G.B Eripmav

Serial Fiction, by Middle-Schooler Penny Andreas

London, January 30th, 3018

Dear Diary,

It’s been one year since the human population and the animal kingdom became extinct. They left behind yet another world of destruction and later decay. I live here alone in this old and empty barber shop. I am the only one left of my race; however, there were not originally many. I have been forced to feed off of a substance other than my first choice: blood. Although nothing really has the taste of murder and the releasing of an empty soul, I have found other items give me a similar shiver down my old spine. I have found that cranberries are one option that is always around; they seem to grow in every watery bog. They are quite bitter. But, when served in a glass cup and sprinkled with crickets, there is an obscure taste that I find almost . . . alluring. I am left with few other options.

London, February 1st, 3018

Dear Diary,

From my concoctions, I seem to have made myself ill. I am barely able to write. I cough and cough. I am absolutely disgusted about being sick. It really is terrible; though I am grateful to still be alive. It’s a terrible day today, too; the dark clouds came back like the day everyone perished. That memory will be forever stuck in my mind. How I wish I could somehow forget it. Alas, the sun has finally come out. It’s been at least a week or so without it. Not much happens. I still sit here alone and in perfect solitude. Anon I shall look for at least one sign of life. I shall deeply wish forever for another source of life, since I am immortal and other life has been completely diminished. Farewell for now, I have some more thinking to do.

Somewhere…Perhaps what used to be London, February 13th, 3018

Dear Diary,

I do recall wishing for another sign of life, but the wish backfired on me. I have found a species…or so I think. They are terribly tall with hidden faces behind cloaks. I do not recognize the language they speak, nor do I have the ability to in my current state. They came across my home in the old barber shop carrying great big weapons with fire. They have brought me somewhere…perhaps what used to be London, since there is a giant collapsed clock that stands in decay. I’ve heard it’s called “Big Ben.” At this moment, I am currently sitting on a cement ground. I sit in an empty room. I do not remember how I came to this room. It is all a blur. I managed to grab my notebook and a pen as I was being taken. I have things to try to remember now. Farewell.

I possibly may know this place, February 22nd, 3018

I am now guessing that I was knocked out, due to my throbbing headache and my knowledge of nothing that happened earlier. I am now in a blue room with what looks like UV lights above me. Whoever this species is, they do not have much knowledge or know of the existence of my race. I am deeply interested in this odd situation, and I wonder if they are a species from a new planet, or maybe something extremely out of the ordinary on Earth. Anything is possible….I hope this ends soon. Farewell until tomorrow.