Reporting live from an unforgettable moment in the history of humanity: YOUR TEACHER'S NAME's class has officially touched down in A PLACE IN AMERICA, in the year 1864. That's right, 1864: right in the middle of the Civil War.
The students have traveled here — ADVERB — in their very own A TYPE OF VEHICLE, which THE NAME OF THE STUDENT WHO HAS THE NEXT BIRTHDAY COMING UP modified especially for time-travel by adding ADJECTIVE PLURAL NOUN to the PART OF A CAR.
Now that the students are safely in the past, they'll begin VERB ENDING IN ING for answers to three questions that historians have so far failed ADVERB to answer:
What was medicine like during the Civil War?
How was music used during the Civil War?
What artwork was important during the Civil War?
These questions, of course, are—
What's this? I'm receiving a message from THE NAME OF THE STUDENT WHO LIVES FARTHEST SOUTH through my ADJECTIVE headset. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh... no. Oh no. NO! Oh, ADJECTIVE PLURAL NOUN! What will become of these ADJECTIVE students?!
(Clears throat.)
Ladies and gentlemen, it pains me to report that YOUR TEACHER'S NAME's class is STUCK in 1864. Their ADJECTIVE time machine has become mired in SOMETHING GOOEY. YOUR TEACHER'S NAME has pulled out their NOUN and is working ADVERB to un-mire the vehicle. In the meantime, the students are heading out ADVERB to begin their research.
We send them ADJECTIVE wishes, and we hope ADVERB to view their livestreams in nine weeks' time.
