I need to store a part of my story because I can't write it all right now. So you all get a sneak peek. I'll delete this later.





"Why is it that I can get everyone else's locker open except for mine?"
A 16-year old raccoon swore in the middle of the hallway, his already bushy tail swollen in anger. His skillful gloved fingers worked at a stubborn locker comination spinner, and he even put his ear to it to sense for vibrations and crack it as he would a safe, but he still had no luck. There was a flash of gold and a bang, and a dark blue locker sprang open and slammed into the raccoon's face. Again, a string of curses floated around in the empty hallway, echoing down into its various nooks and corridors.
Sly Cooper checked to see if there were any dents in the Cooper Cane or in his locker. None. But there was a dent in his slowly bleeding nose. He tried to staunch the flow with his fingers and fished through his locker with his other bloodstained hand, pulling out several books and an arsenal of folders. He was going to be late to his first class. How was he going to explain this? I'm sorry, Mr. Woodse, but my nose is bloody because I hit my locker with my Cooper Cane and it slammed me in the face... Yeah, okay. Sly disgustedly shoved his things into his red shoulder pack and trudged off to his last class, science.
The science teacher was an ancient grizzly bear with small beady eyes and even smaller glasses. His name was Mr. Woodse. Everyone was afraid of Mr. Woodse for the yardstick he always carried around. When he sensed that you weren't paying attention, he rapped the yardstick on your desk, just inches from your nose.
"Now, everyone," Mr. Woodse rasped after giving Sly a glare for his lateness and bloody nose, "I want you to all pair up."