sarahoakes32 avatar


John couldn't believe it. They had stolen his thunder.
It was his invention. He had spent months designing it, weeks rigging it up, days rolling items down to create the perfect sound. The cannonball had worked best, rumbling down the pipes, making the thunder sound as if it was in the room. It had stunned audiences, and amazed friends alike, when he had used it in his plays.
And now it was here, being used, without his consent, the playwright bragging it was his idea. John fumed, and seethed. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He would have his revenge.

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