關於大學英語故事演講稿
以故事來激發學生對英語學習的興趣是實踐多元化教學模式的重要途徑。小編精心收集了,供大家欣賞學習!
篇1
Body in a Barrel
George Gobel thinks that he might have helped dump his own sister’s body. George told police that recently his brother-in-law Russell had asked him to help move a big metal barrel out of his house. “I’ll buy you a case of Bud,” Russell promised. The barrel was in the master bedroom. George remembers that when he was looking at the barrel, he happened to ask Russell, “Where’s Staci?” Russell told him that she was out shopping.
Oddly, the barrel was warm to the touch. “What’s in here?” George asked. Russell said it was just some old rags and engine parts. He wanted to get rid of them because he had heard that spontaneous combustion could occur. George said that he thought it might be occurring at that very moment.
The barrel was very heavy. He asked Russell if the whole engine was inside the barrel. Russell justgrunted. Once they got it outside, they rolled it to the back of Russell’s pickup truck. George helped Russell position a metal motorcycle ramp behind the truck, and they pushed the barrel slowly up into the bed of the pickup. When they finished, George told Russell that this was a “two case” move, meaning two cases of Budweiser. Russell told him no problem.
Russell closed the tailgate of the pickup and they drove to the dock. It was a cold day, and it was raining. They transferred the barrel into the back of Russell’s 25-foot fishing boat. The boat was named “Staci,” although it had first been named "Kathy," and then “Beverly,” after Russell’s first two wives. Russell steered the boat into the gulf. An hour later, after some slipping andgrunting and lifting, they managed to dump the barrel overboard. George told Russell that it had become a “three case” job. Russell chuckled and said no problem.
Russell stopped at a supermarket on the way home, and they put three cases of cold Bud into the bed of the pickup. Russell opened a case and pulled out two cans, and they drank them on the way back to the house in the warmth of the cab.
George called Staci a few days later, because he wanted to borrow some money from her. Russell said that Staci was gone.
“What do you mean, ‘gone’”? George asked. Russell said that Staci had left him for another man, and she had moved out of the city. George thought that was very odd; but because Russell was a policeman, George believed him. He asked Russell if he could borrow $300 so that he could spend the weekend in Las Vegas. Russell said no problem.
Before leaving, George called his mom to tell her about Staci. When he returned from Vegas, George saw his sister’s face on the local TV news. Under her picture was the word “Missing.” The TV reporter said that Kathy, Russell’s first wife, had been accidentally shot to death while turkey hunting with Russell six years ago. Beverly, Russell’s second wife, had accidentally drowned in her bathtub three years ago. George, now suspicious, put down his beer. He called the police. The officer asked if she could put him on hold for a second. George said no problem.
篇2
Homes Burn Down
It was only three days after Thanksgiving. The Santa Ana winds had returned to Los Angeles for the weekend. Fire crews were on the alert throughout the county, ready for more fires. Just a month earlier, 20 fires had occurred throughout four southern California counties. Almost half of them were the result of arson or human carelessness. Officials hoped that this weekend would be uneventful.
Near the end of the road that goes into Coral Canyon, which is only a few miles from the Pacific Ocean and Malibu, is a small park. That park is a popular weekend gathering place. People party there until early morning hours. These people do not live in Coral Canyon. They are outsiders. They do not pay any attention to park rules about hours ***the park closes at dusk***, fires ***no fires of any kind are permitted***, or littering. But because of a constant lack of funds, no park rangers are ever available to enforce these regulations.
Early Sunday morning, Jimi Hendrix, a resident of Coral Canyon, heard loud rock music as a car drove down out of the park. That car was followed by another vehicle, also playing music loudly. “For crying out loud,” Jimi muttered, “it’s 3:00 a.m. Do these a-holes have any consideration for others?” He tried to go back to sleep. Ten minutes later, his friend Bill Gahr called.
Bill told Jimi to look up at the ridge, near the park. Bill thought he saw flames. Jimi went outside with his binoculars. He could see a suspicious glow. Using the binoculars, he could see flames. “God damn it!” he yelled.
He called Bill back. Then he and Bill started calling one neighbor after another, as they had established a fire warning and evacuation plan years ago. The whole community of 98 homeowners managed to get into their cars with their families and pets and just a few of their material possessions. They all survived the raging fire.
Unfortunately, 48 homes were destroyed and 27 were damaged. The fire engines were just not close enough to the community to get there before the Santa Ana winds, gusting up to 60 mph, ripped through the canyon. The next day, firefighters declared that the fire was a result of “human activity,” although they hadn’t determined if the fire was deliberate or accidental.
Homeowners were allowed to return to their home sites to assess damages. Most homeowners werephilosophical about their losses. “We’ve got our families and our friends. That’s far more important than our homes and other possessions,” said Eve Grant.
But Jimi Hendrix was less even-tempered. “Common sense would tell anybody that you don’t set fires in a wooded area when the wind is blowing like crazy. Any idiot would know that. As far as I'm concerned, these bastards ought to be burned at the stake. And I’d grab me a front-row seat.”
篇3
D.B. Cooper Lives On
Where is D.B. Cooper? Who is D.B. Cooper really? Is he still alive? Did he spend the stolen $200,000? Did his parachute fail to open? No one knows the answers, except D.B. Cooper.
On Nov. 24, 1971, an airline passenger later identified as D.B. Cooper called the stewardess to his seat in the back of the plane. He was alone. He gave her a note that said he was carrying a bomb. He would blow up the bomb if she didn’t follow all of his instructions. He opened the bag on his lap and showed her its contents. It looked like six sticks of dynamite connected with wires to an alarm clock. The stewardess gasped.
She went to the cockpit and told the pilot of the 727 what D.B. had told her. The pilot followed D.B.’s instructions. The plane landed at Tacoma Airport in Washington and refueled at the end of the runway, far away from other planes and vehicles. D.B. ordered all passengers off. He asked for four parachutes and $200,000 in cash. The FBI got the parachutes and the money. The money was marked. All of it was delivered to Cooper.
D.B. Cooper checked out the parachutes and the cash. He strapped on a back chute and then a front chute. He filled a third parachute bag with the money. He tied that bag securely to his front chute. The stewardess watched his every move. She was impressed with how “professional” he was.
When he finished, D.B. told the pilot to take off. D.B. said to fly south toward Mexico at 10,000 feet. Once the 727 was airborne, D.B. told the stewardess to go sit up front with the pilot. Sometime later, D.B. opened the rear door of the passenger plane and jumped out. It was dark, and it was cold.
Pilots in the two fighter jets that were following the 727 saw nothing. Nor did their radar detect a descending parachute. D.B. disappeared into the night, and almost 40 years later, D.B. is still a man who simply vanished into thin air.
In 1980, a kid found $6,000 of the marked bills on the bank of the Columbia River, near Portland, Oregon. Had D.B. landed in the river and drowned? Had his body and most of his money eventually drifted into the Pacific? Or, had D.B. left the money there as a ruse, to make the FBI think that he had died? The FBI is angry that D.B. Cooper got away. “If we find that dirtbag, he’s going to prison for 30 years,” said one agent recently.
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