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Lets play a game, this might take off. Yet it may not.
Lets write a forum story. I used to play this game on long road trips. Used to be rather fun. One person writes the first line of a story (or 2 lines) and then the next person continues it with their own line or 2. Then someone else writes the next line. It will be naturally crap and will take may twists and turns. Before you add your line though copy whatever has come before it so we can keep track of what is going on.
First line:
I put the letter by my side and glanced around me. The loft was dirty and stuffy and smaller than I remembered.
Lets write a forum story. I used to play this game on long road trips. Used to be rather fun. One person writes the first line of a story (or 2 lines) and then the next person continues it with their own line or 2. Then someone else writes the next line. It will be naturally crap and will take may twists and turns. Before you add your line though copy whatever has come before it so we can keep track of what is going on.
First line:
I put the letter by my side and glanced around me. The loft was dirty and stuffy and smaller than I remembered.
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Then a funny man comes in and erases Jim-hats last post.
Sickening.
Sickening.
Dringo's head explodes, not unlike that of a watermelon being shot, Kyp slides his penis into his warm, pink brain, as he continues, almost placidly, to sex Dringo in his brain
gerrid turned round and stared at Dringo.
"Exactly what you're talking about? Since when did I ever do anything you said?"
Dringo looked frightened, like a little girl who'd just witnessed a man indecently expose himself to her.
gerrid moved closer.
Dringo stepped back.
"I'm hungry", gerrid said in a droll voice.
"for what?" Dringo rasped nervously.
"Steak".
gerrid left the room in search of a good steak.
"Exactly what you're talking about? Since when did I ever do anything you said?"
Dringo looked frightened, like a little girl who'd just witnessed a man indecently expose himself to her.
gerrid moved closer.
Dringo stepped back.
"I'm hungry", gerrid said in a droll voice.
"for what?" Dringo rasped nervously.
"Steak".
gerrid left the room in search of a good steak.
Now you see that Gerrid is what I'm talking about. A total random change of direction.
"anyway, to continue with my terribly mundane sto..."
suddenly a shot was heard in the distance and Edmund's head exploded in a cloud of blood, like a watermelon. Drenched in blood and with my eyepatch covered in brain soup, I stared blankly at the wall before whipping out my journal and carefully inspecting the remains od Edmunds decimated neck. Prodding my finger into the still pumping gush of warm blood, I felt a slight nausea, but I shook it off and proceded to unwrap my blood tankard, ready for another filling. Tonight had been a tiring effort, but I could at last have my fill...
suddenly a shot was heard in the distance and Edmund's head exploded in a cloud of blood, like a watermelon. Drenched in blood and with my eyepatch covered in brain soup, I stared blankly at the wall before whipping out my journal and carefully inspecting the remains od Edmunds decimated neck. Prodding my finger into the still pumping gush of warm blood, I felt a slight nausea, but I shook it off and proceded to unwrap my blood tankard, ready for another filling. Tonight had been a tiring effort, but I could at last have my fill...
Dringo wrote:
> One person writes the first line of a story (or 2 lines)
> next person continues it with their own line or 2.
FOR GOD'S SAKE DRINGO STOP MESSING IT UP FFS.
> One person writes the first line of a story (or 2 lines)
> next person continues it with their own line or 2.
FOR GOD'S SAKE DRINGO STOP MESSING IT UP FFS.
That didn't follow on very well from Azul's post, Dringo.
I put the letter by my side and glanced around me. The loft was dirty
and stuffy and smaller than I remembered. How we'd managed to get
all of that stuff up there, I didn't know, and I didn't even remember
owning half of it. The creepy suit of armour in the corner, for
instance, I swear I'd never seen before in my life. Floorboards
uncontrollably creaked as I scaled around this airless peak of
memories. A gape of light had emerged through the ceiling, gifting
the only means of exploring this dilapidated, old place.
As I pawed through a collection of forgotten poetry I turned back
towards the suit of armour. Where did it come from? Why did we have
it? And what was it doing up here?
"The question isn't where, my friend. It is when."
I was startled - I had thought I was alone. I turned on my heel in
the direction of the voice. I stopped dead, in a mixture of shock and
amazement. Behind me, in a dusty leather chair, sat an emperor
penguin, smoking a pipe.
"My name is Edmund. And I have been waiting for you."
He tipped his hat and lowered his scar-stricken flipper to his side; he had obviously been up here a long time as thick cobwebs had formed around face, almost like a makeshift beard swaying near his feet. The hint of rum was upon his breath. These teeth had yet to see a good scrub from their owner. As he neatly folded his flippers and leant back on his dusty, leather chair he a gave a dry stare that looked deep into my eyes, like a predator looking into a dark forest for its prey.
I stood quietly. I needed to compose myself.
"Let us answer your first questions. You will have assumed by now that I am a telepathic, completely literate and warm blooded penguin. But that suit -" he took his pipe out of his mouth and indicated toward the armour "- holds more relevance to your life than anything else.
"I believe I was going to tell you when it came from. To be as precise as I can be, it was Christmas. Christmas 1601."
Edmund looked at me, aware of my shock and confusion. Yet he did not do anything to calm me, instead he continued his story.
"It was found by a 20 something fellow named Samuel, I... I forget the surname but it lacks importance.
and stuffy and smaller than I remembered. How we'd managed to get
all of that stuff up there, I didn't know, and I didn't even remember
owning half of it. The creepy suit of armour in the corner, for
instance, I swear I'd never seen before in my life. Floorboards
uncontrollably creaked as I scaled around this airless peak of
memories. A gape of light had emerged through the ceiling, gifting
the only means of exploring this dilapidated, old place.
As I pawed through a collection of forgotten poetry I turned back
towards the suit of armour. Where did it come from? Why did we have
it? And what was it doing up here?
"The question isn't where, my friend. It is when."
I was startled - I had thought I was alone. I turned on my heel in
the direction of the voice. I stopped dead, in a mixture of shock and
amazement. Behind me, in a dusty leather chair, sat an emperor
penguin, smoking a pipe.
"My name is Edmund. And I have been waiting for you."
He tipped his hat and lowered his scar-stricken flipper to his side; he had obviously been up here a long time as thick cobwebs had formed around face, almost like a makeshift beard swaying near his feet. The hint of rum was upon his breath. These teeth had yet to see a good scrub from their owner. As he neatly folded his flippers and leant back on his dusty, leather chair he a gave a dry stare that looked deep into my eyes, like a predator looking into a dark forest for its prey.
I stood quietly. I needed to compose myself.
"Let us answer your first questions. You will have assumed by now that I am a telepathic, completely literate and warm blooded penguin. But that suit -" he took his pipe out of his mouth and indicated toward the armour "- holds more relevance to your life than anything else.
"I believe I was going to tell you when it came from. To be as precise as I can be, it was Christmas. Christmas 1601."
Edmund looked at me, aware of my shock and confusion. Yet he did not do anything to calm me, instead he continued his story.
"It was found by a 20 something fellow named Samuel, I... I forget the surname but it lacks importance.
He nodded.
"Thou shalt not move upon the townlands of Frilopharos on the day where the glow of the sun meets exactly the symbol of Triage within the sacred cavern of gayby."
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