I'm not sure if there's any posts due, but I noticed a lot of people have posted since the first assignment...So I guess I'll write also.

I've writen a lot so far for my first draft. I'll post that for some feedback. I haven't edited it completely yet so sorry if there's any errors...Here goes:

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I awoke to thunderous slamming on my front door and sprang from bed, worried that something was wrong. I fled my room and made hast through the hall leading to the staircase. After sliding down the railing of the stairs, I braced myself and as quickly as possible hauled the door open.
I didn’t exactly expect who I witnessed. My brother had been out that night, so I guessed it was him coming home early in the morning; maybe he forgot his keys. But it wasn’t him. Some haggard hybrid mix of a lumberjack and motorcycle-bad-boy was heaving knelt over on my front porch.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
The pot bellied man replied: “Possibly, but more Importantly, Can I help you?”
I was waiting for him to draw a gun and make demands, but it never happened. We had a temporary stare-off as I tried to figure this guy out. Who is this? What does he want?
The giant man on my doorstep began to grumble and talk:
“If you won’t speak, than allow me to. My name is Jonathan Ramage. You I presume are David Brown. If I read my class roster correctly you should be in my Principles of Rhetoric class this fall.”
“…Yes…That’s me.” I replied uncertainly
“I thought maybe we could go on a little excursion to better acquaint you with the subject matter of the course.”
“An excursion? To where?”
“Oh let’s just call it…Ramageland!”
“What did you mane a themepark after yourself?”
He ignored my sarcasm and beamed at me while I evaluated the situation in my head.
Ok now, tell me what you would have thought if an overtly polite motorcycle man showed up at your house and invited you on a trip, to an unheard-of destination?
With two weeks left of my summer vacation I expected to relax, sit by the pool, maybe take a trip to the beach. But I thought, maybe this would be exciting. I felt like I could trust this guy, I felt in my gut. My friends always went on extravagant vacations, half of them were currently away. I could have some stories to tell them for a change. On an impulse I made my decision, and replied, “Ok sure.”
“Brilliant!” He cried with joy and skipped like a school girl to his motorcycle, which I hadn’t noticed earlier.
Maybe I wasn’t ready for this trip. I had never been on a motorcycle before, and I wasn’t ready to trust a stranger on one.
“I’m not sure about this anymore,” I quivered.
He looked at the bike for a few seconds; the bike transformed into a slick red convertible.
My mouth dropped gapingly. I stumbled in amazement towards to car, and sat myself in the new leather seats.
“Are you more comfortable with this?” He inquired.
“I…I..?”
“Ok then, let’s go!”
He peeled out of my driveway and sped down the street like a formula one racer, the wind burst into my face and I couldn’t even keep my eyes open.
The situation was so confusing. Everything happened so fast and I still didn’t know where we were going. I think Mr. Ramage sensed this, because he began to slow down and veered of the main road onto the scenic route which no other cars occupied.
“Thanks” I said, assuming he understood.
“You’re wondering what we are doing here” he commented.
“Yea, what’s the purpose of this trip, and where’s Ramageland? What’s Ramageland?”
“Well, the purpose of this trip is to teach you of Rhetoric. And I’ll hold off on telling you too much about Ramageland”
Ok, that was a start. Now he’s talking some sense.
“So what is rheotirc?” I asked him
He began to snort and his stomach jiggled as he laughed. “It’s not as easy as ‘what is rhetoric.’ But what is it like? What does rhetoric do? What is rhetoric in terms of other things? I will offer you no formal definition of the term, because no such thing can exist and contain the large spectrum of what rhetoric is.”
I began to get frustrated and remarked: “Ok so what does it do? This means nothing to me. And if it should mean anything to me you could have just waited a week to tell me about in class. Why should I care?”
“Not bad! You’re loosely using rhetoric already!”
“What?”
“You’re thinking. You’re arguing your points, pleading your case. With rhetoric you can make rhetorical claims, even if they’re against rhetoric!”
“But I don’t understand? I still don’t even know what rhetoric is, nor do I care!”
“That’s the beauty of it! There’s no autonomy, rhetoric is for anyone, and it can be used in any situation to any ends!”
My mind felt cloudy. I could tell Mr. Ramage could sense this, and he slowed down and parked the car along the side of the road. He began to speak slowly.
“Have you ever heard a presidential speech? Have you ever argued your way out of punishment? Have you ever spoken to a salesman? That’s rhetoric. It’s like but not limited to persuasion. It’s talking around things. There are no universal truths in this world, and you can justify and ‘prove’ almost anything by the means of rhetoric.”
“You’re crazy” I bluntly retorted, blowing him off.
“If you believe me to be than…I suppose so.”
“Ugh! I wish there was a world without rhetoric!”
“Do you really?” He asked.
I looked at him inquisitively and then responded with a smirk, “yea, sure.”
“Ok then…” He replied
Wind flushed through the air and I lost my sight. I felt a chill run up my spine and my feet lifted off of the earth and I felt heavy, yet weightless at the same time. I tried opening my eyes and my head spun, light flashed, and I could hear nothing other than my heavy breathing mixed with the hurricane surrounding me. I felt myself crash into the earth and then it all stopped.
I stood up, coughing and catching my breath. I opened my eyes and I stood alone on a plain. I looked below me and saw the chalk grey earth that I was standing on. The ground was hard and I as stepped forward I heard my steps echo. The air was dank, and there was fog disallowing me from seeing more than 30 feet ahead. I turned and looked behind me and saw nothing. I looked left. Right. Nothing. “Where am I?” I thought to myself. “Ramageland?” I thought. Then I heard something coming from behind me. I turned around and made haste towards the noise.
When I arrived there was a gathering of some sort. There were rows of seats leading to a decrepit stage with two decaying colonial wooden chairs facing each other. Placed on each unstable chair was a manikin. Each manikin was stained and looked worn-out. One was missing an arm; the other had assorted chunks missing with stuffing protruding out of its various wounds. I took a better look at the crowd, and the audience was occupied by manikins as well.
“Where the hell am I?” I thought. I continued to muse over the situation and then my thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Mr. Brown, take a seat next to me and enjoy the debate.”
I looked over my shoulder and there was John Ramage, sitting amongst the crowd of lifeless bodies.
I crept over to Mr. Ramage, avoiding contact with the corpse-like viewers. When I arrived he pushed a manikin out of the seat next to him to make room for me to sit, and I took the seat timidly.
“Is this Ramageland?” I whispered.
“No, this is quite the opposite.” He replied.
“Well, where are we, and what kind of debate is this?”
“We are in a world with no rhetoric which you wished for, and this is what a debate would be like in this world.”
“But these aren’t even people, they can’t even say anything!”
“They might as well be people; it would be just the same.”
“Ok I get it. Can we just get out of her?”

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That's what I have so far. I'm going to add more diaglouge connecting to the text; I feel like I still haven't even gotten to much into it. So, sorry Dr. Mahoney in advance, when you need to read this...It might be a little long.

Like I said I'm going to add some more dialouge and the conclusion will be the protagonist (who I think is me, I forget...) realizing that ramageland is actually earth, or anywhere. Ramageland is created when anyone uses rhetoric, so he (or me?) has been in ramageland all along.