Skateboards will never be the same to me.They will always be evil little beings out to collect blood and possibly guts. This is the story of a cold-hearted skateboard. There will be insults. There will be pizza. And there WILL be a completely crazy dog who loves his tennis ball.

Me and my friend, Mila, were hanging out at her house after a long and wearing dressage lesson. The lesson went on from eight until four thirty, so we were winded. Since it was late, my mom said I could stay over at Mila’s house for dinner. We were both ecstatic.

Me and Mila quickly convinced her mom to order pizza. Since we both “eat like wolves”, as my mom says, we ordered a large pizza. Half pepperoni for me, and half olive for Mila. After we polished off the pizza, we went outside to fool around. We spotted her older brother’s skateboards, and got some ideas…...to ride the skateboard.
Mila asked me, “Are you sure you can skateboard?”
And I could, mostly, so I tried to keep my pride, so I stubbornly assured her,”Of COURSE I can! Nothing to worry about!”   
But there was EVERYTHING to worry about.
Mila and I skated around her driveway a bit, until we both got bored.But I had an idea up my sleeve.
“How about we ride the skateboards………...sitting down!”
Mila laughed.
“That’s all? I have a challenge to spice things up!” She knew I could never turn a dare away. I could tell she knew what I was thinking, because she watched me from her skateboard with an annoyingly smug facial expression on.
“So what’s the dare,turkey face?” That was me.
“The dare is, sausage breath, is that you ride downhill, sitting down, and turn and pick up my riding crop.” This time, it was MY turn to giggle. “That’s all, slobber face?”
“No, that is NOT all, facial fart.” I suddenly stopped laughing. In case you haven't  noticed, Mila has a SEVERE evil side.
“ I’ll duct tape Sammy’s tennis ball to it, and unleash him when you are going down. The object of the game is to get the crop before Sammy does.”
Sammy was her completely psycho dog whose main goal in life is to lick every single face in the world until their noses are nubs.
“Well, Avra? You going to do it or not?”
“Alright, Bossy McBossypants, keep your hair on!”
“Good. Now go pick out a skateboard while I go and fetch The Beast!” That was the nickname I had given to her dog, and now we use it all the time. I picked out the skateboard that could turn easiest, and then turned to face the garage door. I felt like a Spartan hero, or a gladiator. When I heard the back door open, and the telltale scuffling, I got ready. She opened the garage door, took a look at what must have been a extremely pained face, and doubled over laughing. I jabbed her with a plastic sword left over from Halloween.
“Can I carry this into battle?”, I asked her sweetly. She laughed.
“Sure. You’ll need all the protection you can get.”
I got on the skateboard, and shouted “FOR SPARTAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”
She looked at me funny.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.”

I took a deep breath, said the Lord’s Prayer, and took off. I zoomed down the slope, and I felt as though I was flying. Then I heard a maniacal bark,unsteady galumphing, and I panicked. Then I spotted it! The crop was in sight! Then I remembered my sword. The bronze colored hilt glinted in the sunlight.

“DIE, YOU BEAST!” I shouted, hoping the devil dog  would go away. He didn’t. I lifted up my sword, and he whimpered and stopped. I rushed down the hill, eager to get this over with. I swung my board, and reached out to grab the crop by the leather piece on top, and screamed bloody murder. The devil dog was in front of me, his liver breath like acid on my senses. His jowly cheeks filled with air, and let out a earth-shaking bark.

I grabbed for the crop again, but his slimy face was in mine. And then I realized that we were still going down the hill. I was supposed to turn at the crop, but I kept going. The rectangle of the board was rumbling. Uh-oh. I panicked. The crop was in the dog’s mouth! So close, yet so far. I reached out and ripped it from his mouth. A rock skittered away from my board, along with the two front wheels. The midday sun disorted my vision for a second. But then it was in view. The Sacred Stone. The Sacred Stone was an old stone shaped like a wolf. And I was heading right towards it. And then I crashed. I was freed from my board, but blood was coursing down my face. My nose felt like raw hamburger. And then I heard shouting.

“OH MY GOD AVRA ARE YOU DEAD ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!”
Mila was coming in sight. I groaned and raised my arm.
“I still have the crop!”
She laughed.
“Okay, so you’re not dead.”

For some reason, we both started laughing. And laughing. And laughing.