Startside
Sjangere

Oppgaver og stiler



Laste opp stil
Legg inn din oppgave!
Jeg setter veldig stor pris på om dere gir et bidrag til denne siden, uansett sjanger eller språk. Alt fra større prosjekter til små tekster. Bare slik kan skolesiden bli bedre!
Legg inn oppgave



propaganda.net : Skole & Jobb
The incapable policeSkriv ut Utskrift
En stil jeg skrev i 8. klasse. Jeg fikk 6, men føler den var litt ufortjent, så har lyst til å høre på andres meninger!
Bokmål - NovelleForfatter: Anonym



Part B, 3.

 

Tom jumped into bed. Tomorrow was the big day, April the First. He promised himself to not be tricked. He remembered the last year when he made a shutdown-command in the Startup folder on his mom’s computer (it would turn off when you turned it on). She got crazy. The year before that he adjusted all the clocks two hours back. The whole family overslept. He also had melted some chocolate and mixed it with a spider. His sister ate it. The same day he sent a message to his brother. He was at the train station. “Come home, there is a girl waiting for you here!” He ran home and missed the train. At school he once put a bucket of ice cold water on the door. The teacher screamed when it fell on her head.

 

The teachers and all his friends loved Tom 364 days a year. He was clever, funny and kind. He never broke a rule, apart from April the First when he was the sickest joke-inventor. Nobody could fore’ see his next move. When he came to school the next day, most of his friends and the teachers went to WC. What they didn’t know was that he had shut the water in the WC.

 

When everyone was at WC, Tom went to the computer-safe, took all the computers out and installed his homemade program. It was a Trojan, now he could control the computers from his own computer. He sat behind his desk when the teacher and the students came in. “Please find your computers and start to write,” the teacher said. The classroom was filled with keyboard-tapping. Tom wrote a command. Click! All the cd-roms apart from his own opened. Everyone got confused. Click! Tom wrote another command. Shutdown! “No! I didn’t save,” many screamed. Tom smiled. He had more. When everyone started to write again, he came with another command. The screens started to blink. Black, white, normal, black, white, normal ... Billy, the most short-tempered in the class, threw the computer into the wall. The others restarted the computer. Tom switched the keyboard-keys. He minimized the windows. He locked the mouse or made it move in wrong direction. In the end of the lesson the teacher got mad, no one had written more than ten words, apart from Tom.

 

When everyone went out, they fell. Nobody saw the stumble-thread in front of the door. Tom talked to the teacher. He bribed her to write a message to his parents. “Tom is the most incompetent, bad and annoying boy in this class,” she wrote. When he came home, his mother screamed and yelled. Tom just sat there, but at the end he smiled. “Do you think this is funny?!” she screamed.

 

Tom packed some dog shit into newspaper, sat it on fire in front of the neighbour’s door, rang the doorbell and hid himself in a bush. The neighbour opened and saw the fire, he screamed and tramped on it while Tom laughed to death when the neighbour saw the shit inside.

 

Tom turned on his computer and started to hack his neighbour. When he came in, he installed another virus he had programmed. He noticed a file named Bombing-places. He became curious and opened it. It was a detailed map of England with red dots. He scrolled down. The bombs will be placed all over the country (look up). Exactly today, 23:59 the bombs will blow up the whole country. The first thing in Tom’s head was terrorists! His neighbour was one of many terrorist and they was going to blow up the whole country tonight. He called the police. “Terrorist? Don’t be ridiculous, that is the worst joke I ever have heard,” the policeman said. Tom threw the phone. He hacked the neighbour again and downloaded the map. The closest bomb was about a mile from his house.

 

According to the map the bomb was in front of him, but he only saw a truck. Pip. Pip. Pip. The sounds came from the truck. He kicked the truckdoor and it opened. Before he could do anything more, he felt a knife into his soft throat. “What are you doing here, boy?” the man said coldly.

 

The man tied Tom and drove him to his neighbour. Tom could only wait for his death. The two men went out, and Tom saw the opportunity to escape. He turned on the pc and installed a virus. It was difficult with his hands tied. He turned it off and the two men came in. They turned on the pc, but it started to blink, the keyboard and the mouse go crazy and much more. They were too busy to notice him go out, nice and slowly. He ran home and untied.

 

He called the police again. “Good day, I and my friends do not like this country. That’s why we have placed 1378 bombs all over the country and they will blow up exactly 23:59,” he said with his Russian accent. “The bomb-map is at facebook.com, but I don’t think it will help you, the bombs are impossible to deactivate. He ended the conversation with an evil laugh. He knew it was possible to deactivate it. Or he hoped.

 

“Today the police have been working hard and all the 1378 bombs are now deactivated,” the news reporter said. Tom smiled. Riiiiiiiing! He opened and the policeman arrested him. “But I helped you!” he yelled. “I’m not a terrorist, it pretended to because you didn’t believe me the first time I called you,” he said loud. After an hour of persuasion they believed him. “Can I go home now?” he asked. “Not yet. You did another crime,” the policeman said. “Lying to the police is not allowed, get ready for some days in the prison!”

 

He jumped into the bed, angry. But in the bed he found money. He counted them. It was about 50 000. Tom heard the policeman behind him. “Have you ever been tricked at April the First, Tom?” he asked.




annonse
Kontakt oss  

© 2007 Mathisen IT Consult AS. All rights reserved.
Ansvarlig utgiver Mathisen IT Consult AS
Publiseringsløsning: SRM Publish