Brought To You By Someone Who Definitely Never Bent Their Elbows
In the land of Properville, everyone had elbows. Two, in fact. But no one talked about them.
Not at school.
Not at dinner.
Not even in their prayers!
Because in Properville, elbows were… improper.
“They poke!” Said Mayor Goodenough.
“They wiggle!” Warned the Elbow Patrol.
“They make you want to dance”, started Principal sternly, “or lean or reach for things that aren’t yours!”
So, the Straight Arm Society in Properville made a Rule:
Elbows must remain unbent at all times.
At age five, every child was fitted with Stiff Sleeves™—extra long and straight sleeves that made clapping, hugging, and scratching your nose a little tricky.
“But what if I need to bend just a little?” asked a curious girl named Pip—ginger, of course, because all the troublesome ones are.
“Then,” scolded her teacher, adjusting his own sleeves, “you are being selfish. Elbows are not to be trusted. The elbow is deceitful above all other things!” She quoted, straight from the book of Proper Posture.
So Pip tried to behave, which made playing the piano an almost impossible feat.
She walked with her arms as straight as a pencil.
She ate standing up just to be safe.
She even hugged her teddy bear with her chin.
But at night, when the sleeves were off and the moon was full, Pip’s elbows would… bend (gasp).
Just a little.
Just enough to wave at the stars.
And oh—it felt wonderful.
So Pip did what no one in Properville had ever done before.
She bent her elbows…
in broad daylight.
GASP.
HORROR.
“Why would you do such a thing?” cried the townspeople.
“Because my elbows are part of me,” Pip shrugged.
“And maybe… just maybe… bending isn’t bad. Maybe it’s how we reach. And stretch. And hug. And climb trees. And dance.”
The town was silent.
Then someone sneezed.
And without thinking, bent to grab a tissue.
A baby clapped.
Two bent elbows!
The Straight Arm Society panicked.
But it was too late.
The Bend had begun.
UNSCRIPTED 