George and Janet tell a tale as long and squiggly as the tentacles on our story’s hero.
Story by Clark Ness. Used with permission. www.clarkness.com
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By Clark Ness
One day Alexander woke up.
He was an octopus.
“Mom, I am an octopus,” said Alexander.
“That is nice. Now figure out what to do with your eight arms,” said his mom.
Alexander thought and thought. “I think I will play some music,” he said.
He got out a guitar and played it.
He got out a trumpet and played it.
He got out a drum and played it.
He then got out a maraca and played it.
“I bet I can play all of these at once with my eight arms,” said Alexander.
He picked up the maraca.
He put the drum next to him.
He picked up the trumpet.
He then picked up the guitar.
He began to play music with the guitar, the trumpet, the drum, and the maraca.
“Your band sounds great,” said his mother.
“Thanks, Mom. It is fun to be a one octopus band,” said Alexander.