Sitting on a ruby bench in her local park,

Eleanor sat reading a book as the sky went dark.

"Wow, I didn't expect Beethoven to be such a bore."

Eleanor said as she continued to read The Ninth: Beethoven and the world of 1824.

The wind blew abnormally through the trees

As Eleanor began to listen to Beethovens 3rd Symphony.

A cold chill ran through her as she saw a shadow in the distance,

And made a strange sound that Eleanor had never heard in her short existance.

The shadow walked to a nearby lamp

With what seemed to be a severe leg cramp.

A crimson beam of light appeared near the shadow's right thigh.

He raised his energy rapier, revealed his identity, and shouted "Prepare to die!"

Eleanor jumped up from the bench

As Beethoven charged with a "Die foul wench!"

Eleanor took a medal handle out of her bag, holding it to the blood orange sky.

A cerulean blade of light burst from the hilt, as Eleanor charged Beethoven with a battle cry.

Beethoven swung with great ferocity.

He said, "Any of the music you write will be an actrocity!"

"Your empty words mean nothing you overly sensitive fool!

My report on you will be the grandest report ever written at my school!"

"My compositions are too complex," Beethoven boasted with a strong strike.

Eleanor countered with, "You'll be so infuriated you'll place your own head on a pike!"

"Silly girl! If you want to defeat me you'll need a godsend!"

Eleanor fell as the second movement came to an end.

The park went dark as the lamps went out, and Eleanor reached for something to throw.

Beethoven raised his radiant blade, let out a laugh, ready to deliver the final blow.

Eleanor lunged to reach a large jagged stone that was at her fingertips,

And threw it at Beethoven with her tongue poking through her lips.

The third movement began as Beethoven stumbled backwards holding his eye.

The pain was so unbearable, Beethoven let out a deafening, bloodcurdling cry.

Eleanor dusted herself off and said, "My reprot will make my teacher proud.

I will read it to my class, and I will read it loud!"

Eleanor's lustrous blade made a sizzling sound in the silent night air,

As Beethoven's head rolled to the ground, dirtying his crazy hair.

"You should be happy people still give a damn,

You stupid, crazy, deaf old man."