Shove it | Quizalize

“On this night, we share a roof protecting us from fleets of inequity. Our unification promises a better tomorrow. Those larger than myself, sitting on their marble thrones, sipping blood from cups composed of human skin and singing songs of so-called virtue, grow weaker each moment. Their caravans are revolting. There is hope yet. There is progress! Though tonight may mark a countdown, it is still a celebration. Look at all we have done, not just for Trials but for Palatium Infra as a whole. In four years, when I’m no longer Sovereignty, the Spoiled Purity and his people will continue to strive. So drink! Smoke! Crush up those exotic plants and snort them! We will not falter, weaken, or wane. Our influence is expanding, and somebody new opens their eyes every day. Even the Silbys of Aculeus have reached alarming potentials despite their embittered minds. So long as you relish in tonight, dance, and pray to your “dead” Gods, our revolution shall rise beyond the bounds of class, and when I’m only a commoner, we shall rise again beyond our brainwashed adversaries! Cheers, my people. Cheers!” Followers raised their cups. Some clinked theirs together. Others stood still and screamed breathlessly in agreement. I smiled with courtesy, then stepped off my platform. My voice still rang across the cellar. Speeches before were grander. Those displays were supposed to be emptying, and yet this one left me bloated, swollen tight. I watched as they popped the corks of their bottles and chanted in the name of Purity. Maybe the quality of my words wasn’t what mattered to them anyway, so long as I screamed loud enough. There’s no merit in attacking your people, a voice corrected me. “That’s right,” I said aloud. “Knox, my-my Sovereign!” squealed a nearby devotee, jittering as he stuffed his face with catered pastries. He was one I’d never seen before or had failed to remember. “Look what I’ve found! It’s wine, and not the shoddy Infran kind, either. Earth-made with good fruit! I don’t know how anyone managed to get their hands on this. Maybe some space travel mischief.” He giggled and held up a small glass bottle. “How neat.” “I want you to have it, Sir.” I nodded my head. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” Backing off into the midst of rowdy disciples, I clutched the bottle. What a waste of grapes. It could have been jam instead. Earthly food had a superior taste, ripe with delicate intricacies and nostalgia, but Palatium Infra had mastered the art of alcohol. Why waste your time with a drunkenness so sad and sickening? The booze of trash. Not many more followers approached me. The barren peroration must have upset them. My hands itched to submerge into my suit pockets, and my legs stood suddenly numb, wobbling. Four more years until I’m nothing. But tonight, you are nothing. “Shut up,” I told myself. Tightly packed together in the corner of the dwelling sat the Sibyls. A mound of writhing fabric and tones of skin made up their unified silhouette. I snapped the strap of the nearest gown, balancing on my hands and knees, waving the bottle before them. In their almost rodent nature, narrow noses prodded my way. Their dresses wrinkled and fell to their ankles. Knees dropped, and eyes widened. Many grumbled at me like hungry she-beasts. Those newer ones with faded curtains for hair, sunken eyes, and dirtied nails looked, hid their face, then sobbed. I imagined them in a pack together, fighting wildly against the Spoiled Purity in their rat decorum–biting down with square teeth laced with rabies. “I’ve got you all something,” I said. “Go back off to your pedestal and yap some more. We don’t want it.” A woman rose from the pile and spat. “You don’t even know what it is yet. It's Earth hooch, or more likely a near-flawless replica. I figured you girls would also like a chance to enjoy yourselves tonight.” “Your playmates have been harassing us since the moment you hung the banners and opened the cellar door.” The youngest, with a striking cyan mop upon her head, uncoiled from the mass. What was she now? 20, 21? We celebrated a birthday recently, I thought as she spun around me. “I remember something about a promise. Multiple promises, actually. Are you trying to bribe us into just shutting up and taking it? Because if another sticky, 40-year-old, Earth-born virgin gropes my shoulder, I’m going to have an aneurysm!” the girl continued. “Why not an Infran follower? Do you like it when they touch you?” I returned her accusing tone. “I’m sorry, sweet prophets, that you feel I’ve neglected my duties. I’ll keep a better eye out. Remember, you can always just holler if somebody is bothering you. And Anwen, friend, if I’ve ever tried to bribe you with anything, it was certainly the hair dye. I mean, look at you! Such handsomeness!” I exclaimed. The other Siblys began to encircle her, uttering compliments or even announcements of their envy. Anwen disappeared in a wink with flushed cheeks back into the mound. “I’ll just leave this here.” Smiling, I set down the bottle. ** “141, 143. . .” I counted each step as I trekked the staircase. There was no doubt I lost track somewhere. The ledges kept spawning under my feet, infinitely multiplying until I wasn’t moving at all–swallowing me up in a whirlpool of stone. My tie still hung around my neck, and my blazer remained tied around my hips as a skirt. Streaks of red dribbled off from the cavity in my chest. It was a gorgeous marking, sensual to my fingertips as I traced its edges. Purity, oh, Purity. Purity and his wings of burnt skin. Purity and his many faces. Purity the spoiled. Purity the mutilated. The Silbys did not bother waiting for me. On bare feet, they stormed up the stairs to their room. A trail of red, though in paint unlike mine, streamed after them. None looked remotely near me as they squeaked and gossiped intangibly. I saved them, those Infran broads, enlightened them. As much as they liked to deny it, spit at me, and bask in the thought of their victimhood, in this home, they stood empowered. You’ve done well, my thoughts affirmed, though in the manner of an insincere commentator rather than a hype man. Teeth grace in tile violin goes laundry paper when. It dissolved into an intruding drivel. I rubbed my head and sniveled. “Do you need help, Knox?” called a Silby. Fattened by my coddling, her shadow fell upon me from the doorway steps ahead. I attempted counting again. There must’ve been at least another hundred between me and her. “I’m hallucinating some,” I said, breathing deeply to suppress a burp as I struggled to recall her name. Two syllables. Typically Latin, though sometimes English. Drops of slobber leaked from my mouth. “I’m hallucinating some, Tybal. Do you like your name, Tybal? I would have named you something better. Ty-Tyballinia. No, we’d have to eliminate the ‘ball’ aspect. It sounds too crude.” “One foot in front of the other,” she said. So I walked. Mess greeted me at the doorway. Dirtied culinary obscured the dark wooden countertops, and the sink lay running. I approached the kitchen table, sat, and set my face down upon its cool wooden surface. Assaulting my nose was the smell of neglected flowers, like soil mixed with the kind of sweet cough medicine that would have left me gagging as a child. Open windows whispered songs of the twilight hour through the vessels of busy trolleys and shooting guns. My mouth strained to vomit, but there was nothing in my stomach to regurgitate except the petals of Stulto’s bloom, which came out effortlessly in little sputters. Teetering, I stood up and brushed disgorged plant parts off the tabletop. “Love,” I said as I slogged up yet another staircase. “Are you awake?” She said she’d wait. Somebody’s gotten her. No, she always misses movie night. That sleepyhead, I assured myself. There was a stirring amidst the manor’s cloak of dusk. Portraits of myself, my wife, and my daughter turned to face me as the hallway lights flickered, escaping their quartz frames to penetrate my ears with nonsense. The taxidermied heads of Infran creatures bared their teeth. I stopped to stare at my favorite, an adabactor with daunting spiked tusks poking out from its forehead. Its nose remained black and sharp, and its eyes wide with malice. “Where is my Spes, Adaba-boy? Is she sleepy?” There’s someone in the house. The sounds of the stirring rose along with my blood pressure. Footsteps orbited around me, drawing near and far and then near again, little dancers in the dark. The carpet immersed me in its mass of purples and blues, leaving my skin stained indigo and my vision abstracted. I toiled to reach the master bedroom across the aisle as it stretched out to me with bright lights and celestial howling, like a dove struggling in a pool of oil. Never again with Stulto’s bloom. Never again on what was already a bad night. My hand brushed the doorknob, and the high abruptly faded into only a persistent hum-buzz twirling around my brain. The portraits returned to their typical depression–Spes posing with her ax, Ari’s school photo, and myself in the cap I wore when addressing the military with the Verbis emblem embroidered in its center. All lifeless shots. Who were they for when they captured not the subject’s essence but only some fragment of their identity? They used to feel personal, not advertisements of some supposed characters. Servants, babysitters, and likewise civilian guests, I reminded myself, mustn’t forget whose home they’re in. Yet my body moved independently, taking Ari’s from its hook and laying it backward against the wall to hide her distant grin and tamed posture. It was time for new pictures. Sweet ones, real ones; time was ticking. I approached my own when the stirring began again. Groans and squeals erupted from the vents as if someone had set a pen of pigs loose in my crawlspace. No, not the crawlspace, my bedroom door. I turned the ruby knob. Underneath a blanket wrestled my two squealing piglets, their skins melting together beneath the layer of duvet. Fishnet leggings and manicured nails outstretched and scraped at the sheet beneath them. One raised its head, a salmon-colored man with sweat running down his forehead. Through the crack in the door, we met eyes, his Infran Dr. Sesuss nose flaring its narrow nostrils. No mark of the Spoiled Purity existed carved onto his naked body. My chest felt tight. I stepped back. I was suffocating. Spes emerged from the linens, her hair flowing down her back and her dark skin glistening in front of the bedroom window. She giggled and held the man, the blanket falling and revealing inches of her body I had not seen in months. “Darling,” whispered the rosy-faced man, “look.” He was unfathomably ugly and grotesquely young, with beady, lifeless pupils that dilated when he faced me. The excess flesh on his face sagged while he bit down on his thin lips. My wife faced me, gasped, and strained to cover herself. Suddenly, I was a stranger. A small child who had walked into his parents having sex. I unfurled the door completely. “Get out of my house,” I said. The man stayed in place. “Get out of my house,” I repeated. “Knox,” Spes began. Tears ran down her round cheeks. “Shut up!” I turned to the man, picking up a marble trophy from on top of my dresser. “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you!” “Knox!” Spes sobbed. “God damn it! I hate you! You barely look at me. Every day, there’s less passion. God, God, God, I don’t want to fuck a dead man!” she screamed, “You get out! Get! Get!” My hands wrapped tighter around the statue. That pig of a man was attached to her at the side, his face equipped with a scowl that challenged mine. He thought I was weak; frail like a decaying dementia-ridden senior. I imagined his skull bashed in, his scowl gone, and the feist and confidence in his face beaten into numbness. A new portrait was in order of such brutality, him as a splintered slab of wood, rashed and beaten, a carcass licking my boot. The churning in my brain had come back. Every wall shook. Clock faces came to life and rang in alarm. Indescribable noises caressed my eardrum before breaking into sorrowful weeps. Was it my own? I stared at Spes in motionless frenzy, clenched my teeth, and screamed like a siren. Passionless. What a lie! An excuse, more like. One that erased all my ventures, reducing me to a nobody. But I was not a nobody. I thought of my sect, my campaigns, my endurance through the political brutality of my empty hive-mind world–even my collection of literature, maps, and artifacts. I thought of daring nights alone with Spes when we were young, ravaging each other, two sardonic eggheads suddenly overcome with desire. The veins in my neck throbbed as I gasped for air. It was all I had. I threw the figurine at the man’s head. Eye shut, I heard the thud. A million singing voices of victory flooded out of the cracks in the floorboard. Proving myself a man to the woman I loved in a display of fervent violence was passion. I strained my ears for his cries, though I did not look yet. There had to be a pause, a moment of relief, where I stood tall as a skyscraper and seemingly fought to stay contained in front of my wife and her wounded, quivering paramour. Frantic footsteps rushed off the bed and past my side. I turned and grappled against myself to seize my wife’s shoulder. “Spes!” My eyelids lifted. Escaping was the man with that same numb expression in which I had imagined him. “You’re insane,” he said. I swiveled back towards the bed. With her curly locks flowing over her breasts and her limbs bent at her sides, Spes sat limp pressed against the headboard, her forehead bludgeoned and the statue resting on her stomach. Lips pursed and sweet, my Renaissance beauty reclined there in the guise of a squashed bug. But she was not dead. The desk ornament I flung was only the size of my shoe. Spes, that dramatist, may have been slightly hurt but was far from dead. She only wanted me to think she was to observe me at my most distraught, like a leech feeding on misery. “Get up.” Staggering toward the bed, I said. “You wanted passion? I showed you passion. ‘Shoved it right into your head. Of course, we both know who that gesture was meant for. . .” I fumbled to find my wit. Cold skin met my hands as I stroked her face, unable to resist checking her pulse, even though she was not dead. “I love you, Spes,” I said. Rain pelted against a nearby window. “Spes, please. Please.” No vibration answered my plea. I lifted my hand, sitting next to her now. Tears did not come. There was not any blood on the trophy, but when I picked it up, it felt to be now only a cruel instrument. It depicted a younger me in white marble, with my glasses and collared shirt being the only things painted. Both were in pink. It was a favorable color. I scrambled from the bed to vomit pure digestive bile on the rug. My stomach heaved. I ran my nails along every piece of myself I saw, a dog chasing my tail. As I slammed myself against walls and convulsed, my own heart grew ever louder in my chest. “Dad? I heard–” Ari’s slippered feet hammered across the floor. “Mom? Mom?” I kept my eyes on the storm. Silence fell. “She-She isn’t—your—.” Gasps interrupted every syllable she spoke. “You’re a murderer. Bad. Like they said,” she breathed, “ You beat her!” The words became mush, alphabet soup. Ari ran back down the hall. “My-My mom is dead. . . .Yes. . . Manor of the Trials Sovereignty. . .Ari Sorkin. . . I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me,” she said, presumably over the phone. It was all too fast. I crawled onto the windowsill, opened the glass, and let myself plummet into the alley below. Gusts of wind howled. The lack of motion or sensation informed me I had passed and again lived. Another Palatium Infra, another strange planet in which the celestial endowed rotting men with the opportunity to inhabit. Was this it? Was it all just an impossible limbo of galactic traveling? My surroundings were overwhelmingly gray, an abyss of clouds. Perhaps I had now met the real coming world, and my family and old friends lived here, ready to rush to my sides, lift me up, and jump for joy. Spes would be there. She would be enraged, but at least she’d be there. You are a bad man. You are a bad man. My eyelashes fluttered. There was a tugging sensation in my leg. The fog was wavering along with my ascendance. “No,” I yearned, trying to grip the clouds and stick them in place. “Stay with me.” But the peace was fleeting. I felt the cement under me and the moist garments clinging to my figure. My leg burned. Carefully, I craned my neck, only to observe the promenade as my surroundings. The most underwhelming of filth and danger, individually Infran. Forever my coming world. What a fool I was, having forgotten my blessing. Those idiot Gods could not tell the difference between assassination and self-infliction; a faulty insurance plan. The urge to cry at last set over me, and so I sat and wailed hot salvia into my palm, shielding my mouth to muffle the noise. Thunder echoed my hushed howling. Raindrops turned to pebbles. Under the ambiance of the stormy night, I could have sworn I heard troops stomping, guns cocking, and the chanting of my name. They had all been waiting for this. Billboards came to life, and I could only sit and spectate as the scenery flashed red. I inhaled fear and sobriety through runny nostrils. “Trials Sovereign Vsevolod “Knox” Sorkin is currently at large for the suspected homicide of Spes Sorkin, breaking the first term of the Sovereignty Charter. We now instruct you to report any sightings of the Earth-born, caucasian, roughly 195 centimeters tall, brown-haired, and brown-eyed man to your local Guard post. One can identify the suspected convict specifically by an occult tattoo of Purity’s Coronet on his lower back. No attempted execution or elongated punishment will take place until our Guards conduct an autopsy proving his guilt, per Life’s 1238 commandment. We cannot be sure when or if the Gods will revoke his blessing. Remember, when Gods frown upon strife, opt for a peaceful life. We permit all grieving festivities until Cagidus 4th. Good year!” towering buildings sang out in broadcast, repeating that same convoluted message quicker the instant it ended. Sometimes, the announcer spoke in Latin for the Infran children, other times in Chinese, Hindi, or Spanish to cater to those of irrelevant tongues. You aren’t a bad man. You are a stupid boy. Puddles sloshed. Somebody was approaching. I didn’t dare waste any remaining energy avoiding the Guards and their prodding blades. How did that phrase go? You dug your grave. Now lie in it. And so I embraced the cement. “Knox?” said the Guard. No, her tone was too sincere, and no authority would proceed in such a manner. There wasn’t confirmation on whether or not I was armed, and it wasn’t as if she could shoot me first. She was a partygoer, having just left from the cellar’s backdoor. I shooed her away with my hand. She hovered, and I discerned her shadow hesitating over my body. A man could not rot in peace. “Come on, get up! They’re after you!” Hands reached around my torso, struggling to handle my weight as they urged me onto my feet. That leg, the burning one, my right, trembled and bent unnaturally upon impact with the ground. The partygoer slung my arm over her shoulder, balancing me. My eyes caught a glimpse of a cyan mop. “Anwen?” I rasped, “hu-who let you out?” Keys jangled in her hands–my keys. “I escaped,” she said casually, coercing me to walk beside her. “Quicken your pace. I just heard somebody on your front porch. ‘You see that compost bin down the alley? We’re gonna burrow right down into the depth of that. If they open it and uncover us, I’ll be on top, and I can hide you and act like I’m just a homeless amica trying to take a nap.” With a tightening grip, she led me like livestock to the stinking crate. “I don’t understand, Anwen,” I said. “They’re going to torture and kill you, stupid. You know they’ve been wanting to, and you just handed the opportunity to them!” “I understand that.” It was becoming increasingly challenging to hide the fragility emerging in my voice. “You said you were escaping. Why stop and help your captor?” “What else could I do? Leave you there?” Attempts to shove my wounded body inside its mass of discarded fruits and vegetables began. She yanked down upon my head and submerged me in the fertilizer sea. The evidence grows indisputable, I thought as I stared at the abruptly humane Infran girl, diving in after me, that I belong here. “Damn me to hell! I’ve killed her! My love is dead!” an uncontrollable cry leaped from my mouth. “Shut up! Soon you’ll be, too, if you don’t quiet down.” The actual noise of the Guards darted past us: disorientated marching, guns clanking against each other, cluttered belts rattling, the Latin squawking. One paused to open the bin’s lid, though only rummaged through the surface layer of peat before carrying on. “What are they talking about? I struggle with my Latin,” I whispered. “The search, mainly.” Aggression remained firey in Anwen’s clenched jaw. Though she sat on top of me, there was a monumental distance between our rain-soaked forms. I curled up into a ball, ducked my head between my knees, and dreamt of Spes, ignoring the stench of spoiled food rising from every crevice of my dwelling. The next coming world was due to adopt me again as I forced sleep. I prayed for a canyon of fluffy haze, where I waltzed with pale memories but found nothing but the petrifying stillness of my mind. Killed and ran. Violent as a Guard just to prove a point and watch it backfire. Why would any heaven want to welcome me? I clung to the picture of Spes in my head like it was the last ember of an extinguished flame. “Did you mean to kill her?” Anwen interrogated. “Someone like you would immutably believe yes.” “And who is someone like me? You can’t even treat me like a person for a moment, can you?” grating drama decorated her words. “You know my opinions. I have not seen much of your or your breed’s faces besides that of cruelty and ignorance.” I retorted. “I just saved you! Does that make me cruel and ignorant?” “It makes you an idiot, which is another word for somebody ignorant.” “And why am I an idiot?” She asked. “Because you helping me does no good. Thank you anyhow. Now, do yourself a favor and scram.” As she bent her leg in anticipation, preparing to strike me on the forehead, I sensed an invisible withdrawal widening the gap between us. “You never answered my question,” Anwen took me by the end of my tattered tie suddenly and started her game of shepherd and sheep over again, pulling me back up to the crate’s exit. It appeared as a shining light at the end of a maze of rubbish and mold. “No. Of course not. Spes was my everything,” I sniffled. “I knew it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to hit us, let alone murder your wife. The girls and I always figured you were sensitive.” My heart rate quickened. Today was one of humbling and misery–one to pray a hail spike would fall from the sky as sharp as a needle, pierce into my eyelid, and lobotomize me. I wished I could have merely died or hit my head hard enough not to have to deal with it all. No, I wished I was Anwen with her snarky, careless glow and lack of depth in her eyes. As we emerged from the compost bin together, I fantasized about strangling her until her face turned purple, her weakening spirit no longer categorizing me as “sensitive”, but the thought could only remind me of wielding that trophy and the microscopic traces of my wife’s tender skin tainting it, which turned my guts inside out. “That’s why I think you could use a little help,” Anwen said, “It seems like you can’t walk, either. Your leg is all twisted up.” She undid one of her trim pigtails and handed me the band. “Take off your tie and put up your hair. ‘Will make you less recognizable. Then swallow your pride and stick with me.”

MIKE: Look, Sandy. This is a photograph I took during my trip to Australia. SANDY: Let me see it, Mike. SANDY: This is a good photograph. Who are these people? MIKE: They're people I met during the trip. MIKE: That's the ship we travelled on. SANDY: What a beautiful ship! SANDY: Who's this? MIKE: That's the man I told you about. Remember? SANDY: Ah yes. The one who offered you a job in Australia. MIKE: That's right. SANDY: Who's this? MIKE: Guess! SANDY: It's not you, is it? MIKE: That's right. MIKE: I grew a beard during the trip, but I shaved it off when I came home. SANDY: Why did you shave it off? MIKE: My wife didn't like it!

Determine author's purpose, techniques, tone and mood using this stimulus And so the three mail planes from Patagonia,1 Chile and Paraguay were returning from the South, the West and the North to Buenos Aires. Their cargo was awaited there so that the plane for Europe could take off, around midnight. Three pilots, each behind an engine casing heavy as a barge, lost in the night, were contemplating their flight and, approaching the immense city, would descend slowly out of their stormy or calm sky, like strange peasants descending from their mountain. Rivière, who was responsible for the entire operation, was pacing up and down on the Buenos Aires landing-ground. He remained silent, for until the three planes had arrived, the day held a sense of foreboding for him. Minute by minute, as the telegrams reached him, Rivière was conscious that he was snatching something from fate, gradually reducing the unknown, hauling in his crews out of the night, towards the shore. One of the men came up to Rivière to give him a radioed message: Chile mail reports that he can see the lights of Buenos Aires. Good. Before long, Rivière would hear this plane; already the night was surrendering one of them, just as a sea, swollen with ebbing and flowing and mysteries, surrenders to the shore the treasure it has tossed around for such a long time. And later on, it would give back the other two. Then this day’s work would be over. Then the worn-out crews would go and sleep, to be replaced by fresh crews. But Rivière would have no rest: the mail from Europe, in its turn, would fill him with apprehension. And so it would always be. Always.

Got it ✅ — you want all the topics (States of Matter → Temperature → Thermal Energy → Pressure → Gas Laws, etc.) written in the same structured style (definitions, everyday examples, non-examples, short story, daily life connections, MCQs, SAQs). Here’s a full structured lesson flow, starting with States of Matter as you requested: --- 🧊 States of Matter Definition Matter exists in three main states: Solid: Definite shape & volume, particles tightly packed, vibrate in place. Liquid: Definite volume but takes the shape of its container, particles slide past one another. Gas: No definite shape or volume, particles move freely and spread out. Everyday Examples Solid: Ice cubes, table, book. Liquid: Water, milk, juice. Gas: Air in a balloon, perfume spreading, steam. Non-Examples Honey is not a solid → it flows → liquid. A rock is not a liquid → it’s rigid → solid. Water in a closed bottle is not a gas → it stays liquid. Short Story You buy a soda on a hot day: Ice cubes (solid) keep it cold. They melt into liquid water. Bubbles rise as gas carbon dioxide escapes. Everyday Life Connections Freezing water into ice. Boiling soup on the stove. Smell of perfume spreading across a room. MCQs 1. Which state has particles vibrating in place? a) Solid ✅ b) Liquid c) Gas d) Plasma 2. Soda fizzing when opened is: a) Liquid diffusion b) Gas release ✅ c) Solid melting d) Condensation SAQ (Multi-step) You leave an ice cream outside: a) What state does it start in? b) What happens as it melts? c) If left longer, what phase change might occur? d) Which type of energy increases? --- 🌡 Temperature Definition Indicates average kinetic energy of particles. Measured with a thermometer. Heat flows between objects of different temperature. Everyday Examples Fever check with a thermometer. Ice cube cooling a drink. Why metal feels colder than wood at room temperature. Short Story A hot pizza slice cools when left on the table: heat flows from pizza (high T) to air (low T). MCQ Which is true about temperature? a) It measures total energy b) It measures average kinetic energy ✅ c) It is the same as heat d) It doesn’t affect particle motion --- 🔥 Thermal Energy Definition Total of all kinetic and potential energy of atoms in an object. Everyday Examples Large pot of warm soup has more thermal energy than a small hot cup. Heating water → particles move faster. Ice pack absorbs thermal energy from skin. Short Story In winter, sitting near a heater warms you up because air molecules gain kinetic energy and transfer it. MCQ At absolute zero: a) Particles vibrate slowly b) Particles move randomly c) Particles have no movement ✅ d) Particles expand --- ⚡ Kinetic vs Potential Energy Definition Kinetic energy: energy of motion (vibrating, flowing, diffusing). Potential energy: stored in positions/forces (attractions between particles). Everyday Examples Steam in cooker: high kinetic energy. Rubber band stretched: potential energy. Short Story A bouncing ball → kinetic while moving, potential at the top of its bounce. --- 💨 Pressure Definition Force per unit area on a surface. Everyday Examples Drinking with a straw. Bicycle tires feel hard due to air pressure. Bed of nails → force spread out, less pressure. Short Story When you open a soda bottle, pressure is released → fizzing sound and bubbles. --- 🔄 Gas Laws (Thermal Expansion & Charles’ Law) Definition At constant pressure, gas volume ∝ absolute temperature. Everyday Examples Balloon expands in sunlight. Hot air balloon rises. Tires inflate slightly after driving. Short Story A sealed chips bag puffs up on an airplane as air pressure outside decreases. MCQ According to Charles’ Law: a) Volume decreases as temperature increases b) Volume increases as temperature increases ✅ c) Volume is independent of temperature d) Volume and temperature are unrelated --- ✅ This flow covers all your slides in the same Prezi-style (definitions, examples, non-examples, story, life connections, questions). Do you want me to now add full sets of practice (10 True/False, 10 Matching, 10 Write the Term, etc.) for each section, so you’ll have a complete question bank along with the lesson flow?

Scared by a Shark Timmy is on a ship with Cindy. It is a sunny day. They can see seashells on the shore. They can feel the warm sunshine. Timmy and Cindy see fish jumping out of the water. They are excited and shout. Oh no! There is a scary shark near the ship. They shall stay in shallow water.

Into the Sea What Is Erosion? Have you ever made a sand castle at the beach? You must pick a good spot for it. If it is too close to the water, waves will quickly wash it away. Ocean waves and wind can also wash away land. They can change the shape of an island, which is land circled by water. When wind and water change the shape of Earth, it is called erosion. Waves are the biggest cause of erosion at the beach. Ocean waves are always active and moving onto the shore. They carry the sand away bit by bit. Strong waves are one of the properties of big storms. These waves explode as they crash onto the beach. Storm waves can move a lot of sand quickly. Erosion of Beaches. Some people build houses near the ocean. Waves take away the sand between the houses and the sea. As the beach disappears, the water gets closer to houses and other solid buildings on the beach. Some buildings can even be washed away. Erosion of Rocks. Erosion also happens on steep, rocky cliffs or sharp slopes. First, waves smash into the bottom of the cliffs. Then they carry away tiny pieces of rock. Over time, many small pieces of rock wash away from the bottom of the cliff. This makes the top of the cliff weak.The cliff can crumble and fall into the sea. Stopping Erosion. Some local communities work to stop erosion to nearby beaches. These towns have built sea walls of large boulders or rocks. The rocks are placed in a row in the sea. When waves hit the sea wall, they slow down. Then the waves can't pull sand away.Some towns make rules about buildings on the beach. New buildings must be far from the water. Then they won't wash away like a sand castle.

Multiple choice quiz on this reading: By 1900, the United States had claimed its place as a world power through the Spanish-American War. As the new century began, the country governed subject territories in Puerto Rico, Hawaii, Guam, the Wake Islands, and the Philippines. U.S. troops also occupied Cuba. U.S. businesses reached beyond the country's borders. During the first decade of the new century, the Coca-Cola Company, Quaker Oats, AT&T, the Standard Oil Company, Du Pont, General Electric, and Ford Motor Company seized the opportunity for international sales. After finding international markets, they built factories abroad, taking advantage of lower labor costs in foreign countries. Then they asked for U.S. protection of their investments and interests. Foreign countries invested heavily in Central America. U.S. investors focused on banana plantations and mining, as well as railroads, with little money in government bonds. By 1913, U.S. investments in Central America totaled about $93 million. British investment in Central America peaked at about $115 million in 1913. About $75 million of that total represented railroad holdings, mostly in Costa Rica and Guatemala. The other $40 million was in government bonds, which were worth little or nothing. The Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine From its earliest days, the United States claimed a special interest in the Western Hemisphere. The Monroe Doctrine, issued in 1823, warned European powers to keep their hands off Latin America. In 1902, Britain, Germany, and Italy mounted a naval blockade of Venezuela. They wanted to force the government to repay its debts. All the countries involved eventually agreed to settle the matter by arbitration. The United States stood back and did nothing, but U.S. citizens were clearly uneasy with the appearance of European military forces in "their" hemisphere. In 1904, President Theodore Roosevelt issued a corollary to the Monroe Doctrine, saying that the United States would act as a police officer to keep order in the region. He intended both to keep European military forces out of the hemisphere and to protect U.S. and European investors, exerting whatever pressure or control on Latin American governments that might be necessary to these ends. In 1905, the Dominican Republic owed $40 million in debts to European lenders. In order to prevent the European nations from using military force to collect their debts, Roosevelt used U.S. power. The United States basically took over collection of Dominican customs taxes, declared that $20 million of the debt was unjustified, and began repayment of the rest. Building a Canal The United States needed a canal through Central America, in order to save shipping time and costs. Colombia had the best location for a canal, and the United States negotiated a deal. It would pay Colombia $10 million for a three-mile-wide strip of land and would make annual rental payments of $250,000 yearly, beginning in 1912. Colombia's Senate turned down the deal, and Roosevelt exploded in rage, calling its members "foolish and homicidal corruptionists." Roosevelt considered seizing the land for the canal by military force but soon found an easier way. The province of Panama seceded from Colombia. A U.S. gunship stood off shore, protecting the Panamanian rebels. They formed a new republic under the protection of the United States. The new country of Panama and the United States agreed on a canal treaty within days. The new treaty had similar terms except that the Canal Zone would be five miles wide, instead of three, and the United States would guarantee and maintain the independence of Panama. Revolutions While Roosevelt welcomed the revolution that separated Panama from Colombia, he opposed most other revolutionary activity. So did his successors in office, William Howard Taft and Woodrow Wilson. The U.S. presidents sent troops to put down revolutions in Nicaragua and Haiti, using U.S. military forces to set up new governments in those countries and maintaining military occupations for years. U.S. military interventions were frequent throughout the hemisphere. Dollar Diplomacy President Taft preferred using "dollar diplomacy" to control Latin American countries. In Honduras, for example, U.S.-based banana companies virtually ran the government. Taft supported expanded U.S. investment in South and Central American countries, the Caribbean, and the Far East. He ordered Secretary of State Philander Chase Knox to protect U.S. investments, sending in military troops if necessary. On the World Stage As a world power, the United States did not limit its involvement to the Western Hemisphere. In 1905, President Roosevelt brought Russia and Japan to the negotiating table to end their war over control of Korea and Manchuria. Roosevelt agreed to Japanese annexation of Korea in return for Japan giving up any claim to China, Hawaii, and the Philippines. Roosevelt won the Nobel Peace Prize for settling this dispute. In 1906, Roosevelt's negotiating powers were tested again. This time, he mediated a dispute between the Alliance powers—Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy—with the Entente—France, Russia, and Britain—over control of Morocco. The United States backed France and ended the dispute. No longer an upstart, the United States had taken its place as a world power alongside its former colonial ruler.

Lesson 2: USES OF SOIL PRETEST Color the pictures that show how we can use soil. SOMETHING TO READ Soil is very useful to us. We can use it in many ways. Let us find out the different uses of soil one by one. Uses of soil a. Sand is used in making our houses. It is also used in making hollow blocks. OBJECTIVES: - Enumerates things that we can with soil - Demonstrates ways for making play things out of soil SCIENCE 2 – MODULE 7 SEIBO COLLEGE 9 b. Soil is made up of minerals, nutrients, water and air that support growing plants. It also keeps the plant’s roots on the ground. c. Animals like earthworm and ants lives in the soil. They create tunnels in it to allow air and water to pass through it. d. Clay soil is used in making pots and vases. We can play with it. We can make different objects that we can use to play with. e. When we are at the shore of the beach, we can play with sand and build sand castles. SOMETHING TO DO ACTIVITY 1 Creating Things I Like Objective: In this activity, children will learn that they can create things out of clay. What you need: SCIENCE 2 – MODULE 7 SEIBO COLLEGE 10 2 bars of clay (any color) 1 pc. 1/8 illustration board or any hard board What to do: 1. Using the bars of clay, create things that you like then place them on the illustration board. 2. Show your work to your facilitator. Observation: 1. Is it easy for you to create things that you like out of clay? __________________________________________________ 2. What is the texture of the clay? ________________________ 3. Did you have fun dong this activity? _____________________ Conclusion: I therefore conclude that _

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