Question

8th grade Narrative Writing Paired Texts
Excerpt from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy By
Douglas Adams
[Mr. Prosser] was by no means a great warrior; in fact he was a nervous, worried
man. Today he was particularly nervous and worried because something had gone
seriously wrong with his job, which was to see that Arthur Dent’s house got cleared
out of the way before the day was out.
“Come off it, Mr. Dent,” he said, “you can’t win, you know. You can’t lie in front of the
bulldozer indefInitely.” He tried to make his eyes blaze Fiercely but they just wouldn’t
do it.
Arthur lay in the mud and squelched at him.
“I’m game,” he said, “we’ll see who rusts Irst.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to accept it,” said Mr. Prosser, gripping his fur hat
and rolling it round the top of his head; “this bypass [road] has got to be built and it’s
going to be built!”
“First I’ve heard of it,” said Arthur, “why’s it got to be built?” ...
“Mr. Dent, the plans have been available in the local planning oQce for the last nine
months.”

“Oh yes, well, as soon as I heard I went straight round to see them, yesterday
afternoon. You hadn’t exactly gone out of your way to call attention to them, had
you? I mean, like actually telling anybody or anything.”
“But the plans were on display . . .”
“On display? I eventually had to go down to the cellar to Ind them.”
“That’s the display department.”
“With a Yashlight.”
“Ah, well, the lights had probably gone.”
“So had the stairs.”
“But look, you found the notice, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” said Arthur, “yes I did. It was on display in the bottom of a locked Iling
cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying ‘Beware of the
Leopard.’”
A cloud passed overhead. It cast a shadow over Arthur Dent as he lay propped up
on his elbow in the cold mud. It cast a shadow over Arthur Dent’s house. Mr.
Prosser frowned at it.
“It’s not as if it’s a particularly nice house,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but I happen to like it.”

Question: 1
Prompt: The excerpt from Douglas
Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
is written from the narrator’s perspective. Rewrite the passage from
the perspective of Mr. Posser. Use ideas
from the passage to develop your story.
Narrative Writer’s Checklist
Be sure to:
Write a narrative response that
develops a real or imagined
experience.
Establish a context for the
experience and a point of view.
Introduce a narrator and/or
characters.
Organize events in a natural and
logical order.
Use a variety of transitions to
sequence the events and to
indicate shifts from one time
frame or setting to another.
Use dialogue, description, and/or
pacing to:
develop events.
develop characters.
develop experiences.
Use precise words and phrases,
relevant descriptive details, and
sensory language to communicate
the action and to describe the events.
Include a conclusion that reYects on
the experience in your narrative.
Use ideas and/or details from the
passage(s).
Check your work for correct usage,
grammar, spelling, capitalization, and
punctuation.



Example: I sighed, gripping my fur hat tightly in my sweaty palms. The morning sun had barely risen, and already I found myself in the mud, pleading with a man who refused to see reason.

“Mr. Dent,” I said, forcing my voice to sound firmer than I felt, “you can’t win. This bypass must be built.”

Arthur Dent, lying stubbornly in the muck, grinned up at me. “We’ll see who rusts first.”

A cold wind blew, sending a shiver down my spine. I was no warrior, no conqueror—I was just a bureaucrat tasked with enforcing the inevitable. Yet, as Arthur argued, I realized the absurdity of it all. The plans had been buried in some forgotten filing cabinet, marked by an almost laughable ‘Beware of the Leopard’ sign. Hardly fair notice.

For a moment, I hesitated. Was it right to uproot a man from his home for something he had no real chance to protest? But duty called, and I steadied myself. “I’m sorry, but it must be done.”

Still, as I watched Arthur stare at his house, defiant despite the odds, a small part of me envied him. He fought for something he loved. I was just here to ensure the inevitable.

Answer 1

I sighed, gripping my fur hat tightly in my sweaty palms. The morning sun had barely risen, and already I found myself in the mud, pleading with a man who refused to see reason.

“Mr. Dent,” I said, forcing my voice to sound firmer than I felt, “you can’t win. This bypass must be built.”

Arthur Dent, lying stubbornly in the muck, grinned up at me. “We’ll see who rusts first.” His defiance was both infuriating and oddly inspiring.

A cold wind blew, sending a shiver down my spine. I was no warrior, no conqueror—I was just a bureaucrat tasked with enforcing the inevitable. Yet, as Arthur argued, I began to grasp the absurdity of it all. The plans had been buried in a storage room, hidden away in a dusty filing cabinet, marked by an almost laughable ‘Beware of the Leopard’ sign. Who expected anyone to actually find them there?

Still, I had a job to do. I could feel the weight of responsibility on my shoulders, heavier than the damp earth beneath me. “But the plans were on display,” I insisted, grasping for a shred of justification.

“On display?” Arthur scoffed, his voice thick with sarcasm. “I eventually had to go down to the cellar to find them. That doesn’t exactly scream transparency, does it?”

“That’s the display department,” I replied defensively. “The lights had probably gone out.”

“So had the stairs,” he shot back, his eyes glinting with mischief. I could see he took grim satisfaction in this absurd exchange, lying there as if it were some grand duel. “But look, you found the notice, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I conceded. “Yes, I did. But it was on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory.” It felt ridiculous, even to me, the words tasting sour as they left my lips.

A cloud drifted by overhead, casting a shadow over both Arthur and his house. I frowned at it, a heavy reminder that this confrontation was more than just a clash of wills—it was about the relentless march of progress. “It’s not as if it’s a particularly nice house,” I said, trying to convince myself even as I sensed the unfairness of the situation.

“I’m sorry, but I happen to like it,” Arthur replied, his tone calm but resolute. I wanted to believe in the cause I served, but watching him cling to his home invoked something unexpected within me—a fleeting envy, perhaps, of his passion and conviction.

As I stood there, caught in this peculiar moment, I reflected on the absurdity of my role. Here I was, the agent of change, wrestling with a man’s right to comfort in the face of progress. I had no choice, of course; duty was duty. Yet, as I met Arthur's earnest gaze, I felt the tug of empathy, a longing for the simplicity of fighting for something you truly believed in.

With a heavy heart, I realized it wasn’t just a house I was trying to tear down. It was a life, a home, and somewhere deep down, I wondered if I too was losing something—something precious—in this battle I was fated to win.