WOW Stories

WOW Stories TCC Theatre Program
Tulsa Community College Theatre Department produces four exciting and invigorating productions of live theatre per academic year.

Musicals are produced in the 1500 seat VanTrease PACE Main Stage with a mentoring program giving theatre performers and designers “A world of stage” and experience. Other theatre productions are presented in the Studio Black Box Theatre including the new improvisational comedy troupe, Die Laughing. From Director and Stage Manager to the Designers and Signature Symphony musicians, TCC theatre stude

nts get the opportunity to work side-by-side with professionals and experience tremendous growth, and success. The suggested curriculum in the theatre program includes courses generally completed in the first two years of a four-year curriculum. Course work covering acting, stage movement, and voice and diction all lead to a well-rounded performer. Theatre students can also take courses that give them broad technical experience and exposure. For information about the TCC theatre program, or to apply for a theatre scholarship, please contact Mark Frank, Coordinator of Theatre at 918-595-7732 or e-mail [email protected]

She was only 10 years old when...See more
11/11/2025

She was only 10 years old when...See more

11/10/2025

The bullies thought they had found their next victim — big mistake… They had no idea who was standing in front of them… 😲😲😲
The day had started normally: a new school, a fresh uniform, a promising new beginning. But as soon as Emma set foot on the campus, mocking laughter and squeaky footsteps surrounded her. A light shove to the shoulder, a foot stretched out, her books tumbled to the ground. She hit the floor hard. The crowd erupted in laughter. 😲😲
— “Welcome to school, loser,” shouted a tall boy wearing his sports jacket. 😲
Emma lifted her eyes. Her palms were scraped, her knees bruised, but her gaze — incredibly calm — betrayed an unexpected confidence. In a voice almost inaudible:
— “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
No one knew — neither the bullies nor the teachers watching from afar — that this seemingly fragile girl had been trained by one of the most renowned martial arts masters.
The following days were difficult: hurtful notes in her locker, spilled milk in her backpack, and teachers looking the other way. But every evening, Emma trained in her small apartment, fluid, precise, and focused.
The decisive moment came during gym class. As Emma ran, Max stretched out his leg to trip her. She hit the ground. The class burst into laughter. But Emma calmly got up, locked eyes with Max… and for the first time, he felt apprehension.
They had no idea who they had underestimated… 😲😲😲
👉 The full story awaits you in the first comment 👇👇👇👇.

Chumlee was taken to hospital for tragic reasons...See more
11/10/2025

Chumlee was taken to hospital for tragic reasons...See more

11/10/2025

“Don't Get On The Plane! It's About To Explode!” – A Homeless Boy Yelled At A Billionaire, And The Truth Scared Everyone...
Richard Callahan was a self-made billionaire, known for his sharp suits, private jets, and unshakable composure. On a bright morning in Los Angeles, he was scheduled to fly to New York for an exclusive meeting with investors. His Gulfstream G650 stood gleaming on the tarmac, its polished silver body reflecting the sun like a mirror. Chauffeurs, assistants, and bodyguards moved briskly around him, ensuring every detail was perfect. For Richard, this was routine.
As he approached the jet, a ragged voice cut through the crisp air.
“Don’t get on the plane! It’s about to explode!”
Everyone froze. Standing near the chain-link fence was a boy—no older than twelve—wearing a filthy hoodie, torn jeans, and sneakers with holes in them. His hair was messy, his cheeks smudged with dirt, but his eyes were sharp, wide with urgency.
Security guards rushed forward, waving him away. “Ignore him, Mr. Callahan,” one said firmly. “Just some homeless kid looking for attention.”
But the boy didn’t back down. He shouted louder, his voice cracking: “I saw them messing with the fuel valve! The plane isn’t safe. Please, don’t go!”
Richard paused. His entourage expected him to dismiss the outburst, but something about the boy’s tone was unsettling. The child wasn’t begging for money—he was terrified, as though he’d witnessed something he couldn’t unsee.
Reporters stationed nearby to capture Richard’s departure sensed drama and raised their cameras. Within seconds, the boy’s warning became the center of attention.
Richard’s head of security grabbed the boy by the arm. “That’s enough! You’re trespassing—”
“Wait.” Richard raised his hand. He studied the boy carefully. “What’s your name?”
“Ethan,” the boy stammered. “I… I live near the hangar. I saw two men working under your jet last night. They weren’t mechanics. They put something near the fuel tank.”
The atmosphere shifted. Crew members exchanged nervous glances. Richard’s pilot frowned, suddenly uneasy.
Richard could feel dozens of eyes on him: his team, the press, even airport staff waiting for his decision. If he brushed this off and boarded, it would make headlines. If he took it seriously, he risked looking foolish.
But the boy’s words had struck a nerve. Against all expectations, Richard ordered: “Ground the plane. Run a full inspection.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Security dragged Ethan aside, but Richard’s gaze stayed fixed on his jet, a gnawing sense of dread creeping into his gut.... Watch: [in comment]

Don't cheat. The first animal you see will reveal your worst flaw... see more 👇😮
11/09/2025

Don't cheat. The first animal you see will reveal your worst flaw... see more 👇😮

11/09/2025

While cremating his pregnant wife, the husband opened the coffin to take one last look at her — and saw her belly move. He immediately stopped the process. When the doctors and police arrived, what they discovered left everyone in shock...
The air inside the crematorium was thick with grief. Mark Lewis stood motionless, his trembling hands clutching the edge of the coffin. Inside lay his wife, Emily, her pale face frozen in eternal stillness. She had been seven months pregnant when tragedy struck — a sudden car crash on the wet highway that claimed her life instantly. At least, that’s what everyone had believed.
As the staff prepared the chamber, Mark hesitated. Something in him refused to let go just yet. “I just need one last look,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. When the lid creaked open, a wave of despair washed over him — until he saw it.
Her belly moved.
At first, he thought it was his imagination — grief playing cruel tricks on him. But then it happened again, more distinctly this time: a faint, rhythmic motion from within her womb. His breath caught. “Stop!” he screamed. “Stop everything!”
The attendants froze. Confusion spread, but Mark didn’t wait — he reached into the coffin, shaking Emily’s shoulder, calling her name. She didn’t respond, but the movement in her stomach continued. Within minutes, doctors were summoned from the nearby hospital, and the police arrived to oversee the chaotic scene.
The room buzzed with disbelief. Could it be muscle spasms? Decomposition gases? Or was it what Mark dared not even hope — that the baby might still be alive?
When the medical team began their examination, the air turned electric. They confirmed Emily was indeed gone — but inside her, a tiny heartbeat still pulsed, fragile yet steady. Against all odds, her unborn child was alive.
In a flurry of action, they rushed her to the emergency room for an emergency C-section. Mark followed, heart pounding, torn between grief and desperate hope. Every minute stretched like eternity as surgeons worked furiously.
And then — a cry.
A thin, piercing wail filled the sterile room, slicing through the silence like light breaking darkness. The baby had survived.
But what the doctors discovered next would turn this miracle into something far more complex than anyone imagined... Watch: [in comment]

11/09/2025

😨😱 They stole his parking spot and shouted: “This is our country! Be grateful that you even get to live here!” But they had no idea how much they would come to regret it.
I was leaving the supermarket with bags in my hands when I heard some noise in the parking lot. People were gathering in a circle — some filming with their phones, others just standing there with their mouths open. I walked closer and saw what was happening.
A man was trying to pull into a free parking space. But before his wheels could cross the line, a white SUV suddenly sped into the same spot. A couple jumped out — a woman wearing sunglasses and a man in a baseball cap. There were plenty of empty spaces around, but they wanted that one — as if out of pure principle.
— But I was already turning in here, — the man said calmly.
— First come, first served! — snapped the woman, then added with a venomous smile:
— This is our country! Be grateful that you even live here!
I was shocked to hear that. It seemed like he was about to explode — it’s impossible to endure that kind of humiliation.
😵😲 But the man held himself back. Instead of shouting, he chose a different path. The lesson he taught that couple was so painful that they didn’t dare leave their house for weeks — shame became their punishment.
Continuation in the first comment👇👇👇

Couple adopts child and when coming home with the baby he ate... See more
11/09/2025

Couple adopts child and when coming home with the baby he ate... See more

11/08/2025

After saying goodbye to my grandma, I went back to her house to collect the last of her things. My husband was impatient, practically PUSHING me to sell the place.
"We need the money, not your memories," he said, barely hiding his irritation.
The air around the old porch still smelled like her — lavender soap, herbal tea, and something warm and familiar that made my throat tighten. The funeral had drained me; the gray sky felt as heavy as the silence in the house.
I sat on her bed — the same one where she had passed just three days earlier. The springs groaned softly under my weight, as if mourning too.
Paul — my husband — came in without knocking. His footsteps sounded out of place in this house, too loud, too sure.
"It's getting late, Mira," he said. "We should go."
But as I stepped out toward the gate, Mrs. Callahan, the neighbor, stopped me. She glanced around nervously, then whispered:
"If you only knew what your husband was doing here… while your grandmother was still alive."
She slipped a small, old-fashioned key into my hand. I suddenly remembered — it was the key to the attic.
"What do you mean, what my husband was doing? And how did you even get this key?" I asked.
"That's not for me to tell," Mrs. Callahan murmured. "Your grandmother gave it to me about a month before she passed. She said I should hand it to you personally."
I thanked her, took the key, and told Paul to drive home without me — that I'd call a cab later.
Then I went back inside, up the creaking stairs, and unlocked the attic door. ⬇️

The 5-month-old baby who was hit by a… See more
11/08/2025

The 5-month-old baby who was hit by a… See more

11/08/2025

My daughter demanded I cover a $400,000 debt I never made. When I refused, she screamed: “Get out of OUR house!” and lashed out in a burst of rage that left me stunned. When I called the police, she suddenly broke down in tears… and that was only the beginning.
My daughter and her husband arrived at my home with a "surprise." It wasn't a gift. It was a stack of fraudulent documents for $400,000 in my name. They said the debt was due today, and if I didn't pay, we'd all lose the house. But when I told them "No," I never expected what my own child would do next...
"Daddy? I have a surprise for you."
Emily’s voice was brittle, a high tone she only used when she wanted something. She stood in the doorway, clutching a thick envelope against her chest like a shield. Her smile was thin, but her eyes darted nervously. Behind her, her husband, Mark, emerged. He didn’t smile. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, exuding an arrogance that always set my teeth on edge.
"A surprise? You know I don’t care for surprises," I said, folding my paper.
"Oh, you'll like this one!" she trilled, forcing a laugh. She scurried over and thrust the envelope at me. Her fingers trembled.
I tore the flap. Inside wasn't a birthday card. It was a stack of official papers. Credit card statements. Casino markers. Loan documents. All bearing my name, Jesse Miller.
The numbers made my chest tighten until I couldn't breathe.
"What... what the hell is this?" The words came out in a strained whisper.
"Those are your debts, Daddy," Emily’s voice had lost its artificial sweetness. It was as cold as her husband's.
"My debts? I’ve never been to a casino in my life. This... this is fraud."
"Is it?" Mark pushed off from the counter, his presence suddenly suffocating in my small kitchen. "Memory isn't what it used to be, is it, old man? Those signatures look pretty authentic. Looks like you've been busy."
I grabbed one. The signature was a perfect replica of my own. The total at the bottom was circled in red ink: $400,000.
"I didn't sign these," I insisted, "This is your doing, Mark!"
"Oh," he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And one more thing. It must be paid by Monday."
"Monday?" I looked at the calendar. Today was Monday. "That's impossible."
"That's the deadline," Mark said with a shrug. "They’re coming for the house."
Emily, silent until now, finally spoke, fake tears welling. "Daddy, please! We can't lose the house! Our house! Where will we go?"
"This isn't our house, Emily," I snapped, the betrayal starting to burn. "It's my house. And I am not paying for debts that aren't mine."
"But they are yours!" she shrieked, her composure cracking. "The papers prove it! You did this! You've been gambling, hiding it, and now you're going to let us all be homeless!"
The monstrous accusation left me speechless. I looked at my daughter and saw a stranger.
"No," I said, my voice low and final. I pushed the papers back across the table. "I want you," I looked at Mark, "out of my house. Both of you. Now."
I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
That was when Emily changed. The mask of the terrified daughter didn't just slip; it evaporated. Her face, tear-streaked and pale, hardened into something I had never seen before—a cold, calculated rage.
She didn't scream. She acted. She grabbed the half-full pot of coffee from the machine.
"Emily, don't," I said, but the warning was too late.
She threw it.
The scalding, dark liquid hit me square in the chest. It was a liquid fire. The pain was immediate, searing, and absolute. I gasped, stumbling backward, clawing at my shirt as the fabric fused to my skin. The shock was so profound, I couldn't even scream.
Through the haze of pain, I saw Mark. He wasn't shocked. He was smiling. A thin, satisfied smile.
"Get out," he yelled, "Get out of our house!"
He shoved me onto the front porch. The cool October air was a shock against my burning skin. I heard the click of the deadbolt behind me.
I stood there, shaking, humiliated, and in agony. My wallet was inside. My keys were inside. My life was inside.
They thought they had won but they had made one crucial mistake. Watch: [in comment]

Giant hail recorded Tuesday evening in the town of... See more
11/08/2025

Giant hail recorded Tuesday evening in the town of... See more

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