A chemistry tale full of pleasure and pain

Concise, just like my English coursework.

All right, all right. That was good. I liked that fanfic.

Okay, how about this. Another fanfic. nwn

I pick up the bat, readying myself for the next hit. I look up, push my hat down, and prepare myself for the incoming ball. I look straight into the pitcher's eyes, as if to intimidate or even put fear into him. Or I could try to read his thoughts. Huh, I chuckle to myself. That's impossible. Or was it?

I instantly feel a slight prick on the front of my brain, just where the forehead is, and rub my head vigorously. For a second, a wild thought sprouted in my mind. What if he's reading my mind? Can't be. Impossible. Just my fantasy mind. I kept throwing these statements into my head, until I became sure that mindreading is impossible. Right, it's impossible to read minds. Or is it?

I jump in shock, and turn around to see no one there, for the sound was from a loudspeaker. I looked around, to try to see the man on the other end of the speaker, and finally saw him standing in superiority above us on the empty flood lights. Michael. Or, as he's most known as, V-Sauce. OR IS IT? The same voice. Sweat starts running through my forehead, to my neck, to my chest, to my belly, to my pants, but it doesn't get through my pants for I had prepared a belt just in case of this very situation. I look straight forward again to the pitcher, and this time, I'm the one filled with fear. In slow motion, the pitcher moves his arms down, preparing to stretch his arm back. Then the pitcher stretches his arm back, preparing to throw his arm forwards. Then the pitcher throws his arm forwards, releasing the ball. The ball travels at least a mile per hour, so the camera man stops the slow motion, revealing that the ball was travelling 18 miles per hour. So, of course, it was sped up to make the ball travel 42 miles per hour. Thud.

I hit the ball. It goes flying upwards, until it's nothing but a tiny speck in this entire universe, at least to our own eyes. We don't know about aliens. I mean, they could exist, but we don't know. Our funds for NASA are useless. The ball keeps flying upwards, until it starts going downwards. The ball falls downwards. It carries on doing that. Until it was a few metres from me, and thud... I open my eyes, and look down at where the ball had landed. I could not see it for it was enclosed. Enclosed by clothing. Specifically, pants. Specifically, shorts. Specifically, just in the shorts, not the actually underwe- yeah, don't say that? A- All right, yeah I agree, it just makes the fanfic weird. I won't put it in. Turned out, that my belt wasn't tight enough. And I had caught myself out because of this. With my pants. Meaning, we lost.

Moral of this story is clear, and easy to understand. It is to always remember that things aren't always impossible. Everything's impossible, until someone does it, then it becomes possible. Always remember to do this, so you're able to know what will happen using predictions. Then you could've been able to tighten your belt. On your shorts. It's not about fashion, it's about safety. There it is. The moral. To always be safe. The moral has been concluded.

TL:DR - Realize that it isn't impossible to read minds, and use that power to remember to tighten your seatbelt when playing cricket. Softball. Baseball. Rounders.

Wow. I want to be an author.