Cooper Dugger

Kendra Burleyson, Reporter

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Cooper Dugger has been in Ponder for 10 years. His favorite style of music is rap. His favorite fast food restaurant is Chick-Fil-A. His dream car is a Nissan Juke. His favorite movie of all time is Blue Mountain State: The Rise of Thadland. His favorite TV show is The Office. His favorite teacher is Mrs. Shelton and his favorite class is the library. If Cooper was a superhero, he was would be Super Cooper. If he had a superpower it would be transformation. He wants to transform into a chair. The song “Year 3000” by the Jonas Brothers is the theme song to his life. Cooper’s dream vacation would be Krum, TX. His spirit animal would be an Opossum. If Cooper could invite for people to have dinner with, they would be Michael Scott, Dwight Schrute, Thad Castle, and Alex Moran.

Cooper’s secret is that he is a closet novelist and would like to share a little bit of a story with us all.

I looked at the squidgy guillotine in his hands and felt fuzzy. He walked over to the window and reflected on his creepy surroundings. He had always hated snooty Sydney with its new, nervous nooks. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel fuzzy. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Bryce . Bryce was a brutal hero with feathery ankles and moist toenails. I gulped. I glanced at my own reflection. Friends saw him as a rancid, rich rover. Once, he had even helped a rabble-snatching deaf person recover from a flying accident. But not even an admirable person who had once helped a rabble-snatching deaf person recover from a flying accident, was prepared for what Bryce had in store today. The clouds danced like bopping toads, making cooper ambivalent. As cooper stepped outside and Bryce came closer, he could see the clever smile on his face. “Look Cooper,” growled Bryce, with a thoughtful glare that reminded Cooper of brutal tortoises. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but I want Internet access. You owe me 5634 euros.” Cooper looked back, even more ambivalent and still fingering the squidgy guillotine. “Bryce, Is that real leather,” he replied. They looked at each other with sneezy feelings, like two large, little lizards boating at a very sinister funeral, which had reggae music playing in the background and two witty uncles bouncing to the beat. Cooper studied Bryce’s feathery ankles and moist toenails. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I declared myself bankrupt,” explained Cooper. “You will never get your money.” “No!” objected Bryce. “You lie!” “I do not!” retorted Cooper. “Now get your feathery ankles out of here before I hit you with this squidgy guillotine.” Bryce looked anxious, his wallet raw like a tired, tart torch. Cooper could actually hear Bryce’s wallet shatter into 5634 pieces. Then the brutal hero hurried away into the distance. Not even a beaker of squash would calm Cooper’s nerves tonight.

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