The roller coaster climbed up higher and higher, and Michelangelo couldn’t help quivering with excitement. Albert sat next to him, slightly annoyed. He hadn’t planned on riding the ride, but apparently, Mr. Demetrius didn’t want to ride alone and had pulled him into the seat. He tried to look around for the criminal, but then suddenly they passed the highest point of the tracks and started plummeting downward.

At first Michelangelo Demetrius was having the time of his life, but he quickly began to regret deciding to ride the roller coaster. It zoomed downward so fast that the hero felt like he was going to fly out of his seat. It reached the bottom of the incline and went back up again, turning upside down as it raced around one loop, and then another one. Disoriented and beginning to feel sick at his stomach, Michelangelo wondered when the ride was going to end. It darted to one side, then the other, spinning and twisting in pretzel shapes. Michelangelo decided he didn’t like riding this ride anymore. He felt like his heart had been left far behind. “Stop! I want out!” he yelled, but no one heard him. He felt trapped, unable to escape from this terrifying device of high-speed torture. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the vehicle ground to an abrupt stop and Michelangelo was pressed painfully into the bar in his lap. Albert looked over to see the huge man balling, tears flowing down his cheeks as he cried out loudly in a mixture of fear and relief, “I don’t like this ride! I don’t like this ride!”


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