Brown Slime Stories

New Girl

It's her first day at a new school in a new town, Adam Smith High. 

She's equal parts nervous and excited.

Rachel is a cute and sweet sixteen-year-old with long, dark hair and big brown eyes. She's just hoping that she'll fit in and make some new friends.

When she arrives in the classroom, she's a bit overwhelmed by all the activity. There are lots of other kids talking and laughing, and they all seem to be busy with something.

Rachel takes a seat at one of the desks and tries to calm her nerves. She sits next to a boy who has sandy-brown hair and wears glasses. 

"I'm Tyler," he smiles at her. "What's your name?" 

"Rachel," she answers shyly, feeling glad that a boy is talking to her.

Mr. Sanchez calls the class to order and starts taking attendance. When he calls out Rachel's name, the whole class turns and looks at her.

"Here!" Rachel says, raising her hand and smiling.

"Rachel, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?" Mr. Sanchez asks.

A middle-aged man with dark hair and a short beard, Mr. Sanchez is dressed in a white button-down shirt and black pants. His beady eyes are hidden behind a pair of thick glasses.

Rachel hesitates for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Um, my dad just moved here for work," she says nervously with a slight Southern drawl. "I'm from Texas."

Rachel is feeling anxious, but it softens as the class responds with a chorus of "Hi, Rachel" and "Welcome!"

"Nice," Mr. Sanchez says. "What part of Texas are you from?"

"North, a town called Midland," Rachel replies. "It's really hot there, and dry. This place is so different, with all the rain and everything."

Mr. Sanchez smiles.

"It is nice here, isn't it?" he says.

Rachel nods and smiles back.

"Now, just in case nobody has told you yet, we have a special rule here," Mr. Sanchez continues. "If you don't know the answer to a question, you never want to say 'I don't know.'"

Rachel furrows her brow in confusion.

"Huh?" she asks. "Why not?"

"Well, because if you say that, you will get a surprise," Mr. Sanchez explains. "A not-so-nice surprise."

"What kind of surprise?" Rachel inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't tell you that," Mr. Sanchez chuckles. "Then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

"Hmmm," Rachel shrugs. "Well, okay."

"So, if you don't know an answer, what are you going to say?"

"Umm... I'll try my best not to say 'I don't know?'"

Mr. Sanchez smiles.

Then, a few moments later, a wet, gloppy, splatting noise suddenly echoes throughout the classroom.

All the students turn to look and see a stinky, chunky brown column coming down from the ceiling.

Plopping right on top of Rachel's head.

She's horrified and her mouth is hanging wide open as it completely covers her hair and forms a big gooey pile over her shoulders.

It's like someone is taking a massive dump on top of her as mealy, mushy sludge violently erupts all over the unfortunate brunette, who finds herself sitting there completely stunned and speechless.