screwy

The Demise of Screwy Thing

Hello, guys, and welcome to Teen Fiction Girl!  If you wanted a practical sort of post, I recommend you go find something else to read; this is kind of a continuation to an “article” I posted on Tween Fiction Girl a few months ago.

This is mostly aimed at a certain friend of mine.  You can call her Amber.

So, if you’ve followed me this far, you might just remember Screwy Thing.  At the time, friend Amber was rather into crafting for her dolls and such.  She tried as hard as she could to get me into the habit, which resulted in my ownership of several craft supplies that I used very uncommonly.  I got a bit bored one evening and decided to start messing around with them, and Screwy Thing was born.

screwything

Needless to say, Amber, who was actually a crafter, was horrified by the monstrosity I had produced.  I thought it was kind of cute, but she tried to do away with it several times.

Now, fast forward to last month, when my little sister, Autumn, was trying to make a book and she needed staples for the binding.  She accidentally stapled the wrong side of the book and she needed a staple puller to get it out.  As you can see above, a staple puller is one of the components of Screwy Thing, and she knew it.  So she took the staple puller out and the downfall of Screwy Thing began.  I tried to tuck it away safely in my closet and maybe repair it later, but I never got around to it.

So, just last night, I was cleaning out my closet for no reason other than that I wanted a clean closet, and I stumbled upon the sad remains of Screwy Thing.  The glue was crumbling, the sequins had been scratched, the staple puller had been used, the puffballs were entirely gone, and the whole thing was coated in a layer of dust.  It was terribly pitiful, like a starving puppy, sort of, except quite a bit less cute.

Well, I was in a cleaning frenzy, so there was nothing for it but to send Screwy Thing on to its final resting place:  the trash can.  I felt a little sad getting rid of such a wonderful artifact of crafting, but, I consoled myself, I took plenty of pictures.

I texted Amber about the catastrophe.  She was rather unsympathetic.

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And that is the tale of the demise of Screwy Thing.

Thanks for reading, mi amigo.

~ Summer

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