The 8Ball Essay Research Paper One of

The 8-Ball Essay, Research Paper One of the worst rumors ever created is that an 8-ball has to be shaken in order to reveal an answer. Too many times I have had friends walk into my room, shake the 8-ball, and flip it for an answer. Then when they see that the water is all bubbly and the answer cannot be seen, what do they do?…they shake it some more! I have found myself shouting at my friends over and over again, ?No! Don?t shake the 8-ball! For the love of God, just put it down!? Well, over the past few years, with all of the shaking, my 8-ball threw in the towel. The cube inside could no longer provide an answer. I went through an 8-ball withdrawal. I spent that whole summer answering yes or no questions with the witty comments that were once provided by the 8-ball.

However, I did not remember many of the answers that it gave, so everyone either got an answer of ?all signs point to yes? or ?ask again later.? I realized I could not complete my dream of being a human 8-ball unless I had all of the answers. The only option left was to get to the center of the 8-ball and retrieve the cube with the answers. I was going to have to murder the 8-ball. Have you ever tried to strike through the clear, plastic center of the 8-ball? It?s like a brick wall! My first attempt to reveal the 8-ball?s answers was to take a hammer and pound through the center. I thought the hammer would provide plenty of power to shatter through the 8-ball?s shield. Oh boy, did I have another thing coming. After minutes of slamming away with the hammer, I caught my breath and

decided to try the other end of the hammer. I thought maybe piercing through would be the key to get to the center. Once again, I started beating away on the 8-ball. I was hovering over my kitchen sink, holding the hammer in my left hand, and the 8-ball in my right. My eyes glowed with determination as I started slowly cracking my way through the plastic. A smile was brought on to my face as I saw the blue ink starting to leak out. The 8-ball was starting to give in, and it?s blood was oozing out of its cracks. My sink started to fill with blue. I stopped for a moment to wash out the sink, and that?s when I realized the ink was staining the sink. The 8-ball had defeated me again! In a fury, I stormed out of my house, with 8-ball in hand, and threw it into my backyard. I spent 20

minutes scrubbing the sink just to get out the spots of the blue that were left by my 8-ball. After the scrubbing was complete, my smile turned evil, and I returned to my backyard for another confrontation with the 8-ball. The 8-ball and I decided to take this fight outside. My mind had trailed off, and I had become an animal. No longer was I just trying to crack open the little plastic center, I was attacking the whole ball. I used two hands now, while the 8-ball rolled around on the ground. With sweat pouring down my face and my mind in stage of fury, a new weapon appeared in my head. I dropped the hammer, raced into my garage, and found it sitting on an old kitchen cabinet…the sledgehammer. I let out an evil chuckle and scampered back to the 8-ball. With two hands, I lifted

the sledgehammer over my head, and struck the 8-ball, splitting it into two pieces. I had broken through the 8-ball?s first line of defense. The only thing left of it was a clear plastic tube, and inside I could see the cube of answers sitting in the blue ink. My treasure was just one blow away. I give it a good shot, and the 8-ball fought back. The ink inside of the tube immediately turned into an attacking unit, as it splashed into my eyes. I yelled out cries of pain, and wiped my eyes off before too much damage could be delivered. I looked down to see my pair of pants and my favorite pair of sneakers covered in blue. The 8-ball always found a way to counterstrike. My eyes were once again planted on the cube, and I was still unable to reach inside and grab it. I struck it one