Meaghan's Bad Grammar Beast

Gayle's drawing of Meaghan's Grammar Beast

The Bad Grammar Beast

From out of my closet burst the Bad Grammar Beast,

Who had a burly blue body and a bulbous head (he was as tall as my locker at school—he took up so much space!).

He growled and snatched my English paper from my desk to have himself a feast,

While I watched in horror as he destroyed my grammar at an alarmingly fast pace.

The Bad Grammar Beast used sharp claws to misplace modifiers; he grinned evilly with a glint in his eyes of green;

He popped verbs into his mouth and tossed subjects over his bumpy, purple-polka-dotted back.

He gobbled up commas with his sharp, slimy, yellow teeth (running clauses together without a conjunction to be seen!),

And contentedly munched on apostrophes that snapped in half with a crack.

Before he could shift some verb tenses, I mustered my courage and hollered into his triangular-shaped ears,

“Hey, you Bad Grammar Monster, leave my paper alone! Why don’t you just go home?!”

He was drooling on my paper so much that the writing was beginning to smear!

And with a POOF—just like that—he was gone, from the tip of his spiky tail to his orange horns as hard as bone.