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Arrangement Lillian Hu: 27, Interior Designer. Charismatic, friendly, talented. One skill in particular keeps her in business: Feng Shui Exorcism. In a way, this means that she’s really good at arranging furniture. Lillian has an adequate website to advertise her services. Style. Prestige. Natural balance. Lillian Hu has established herself as one of California’s premier residential and commercial Interior Designers, utilizing the ancient tradition of Feng Shui. Her taste is impeccable but her knowledge of Chi, life force, really brings in the money. A foppish women of 42, Mrs. Davidson was clad in designer clothing and caked in expensive make-up when she answered the door. “Lillian? Oh, Lillian, it’s great to meet you! I’m so glad you’re here to help us with our problem.” “No worries,” said Lillian warmly, “I’m glad that you were able to contact me.” “The room is this way.” Mrs. Davidson led Lillian toward the entertainment room. “The drat thing hasn’t let us enjoy the entertainment room since we’ve lived here.” The Davidson family recently moved into a new home. Their HD television has been powering up on its own from day one. If the family was watching T.V. the channel would suddenly change. Multiple technicians had been called in but none of them found any electrical problems. Spanish language stations would spontaneously come on, the programming leaned towards variety shows and telenovelas. “Can you use your ‘fang shewie’ can end this, Lillian?” “It’s ‘fung shway’ and, yes, I’m confident in my design abilities and my ability to rid clients of,” she cleared her throat, “aesthetic abnormalities. Don’t worry, sweetheart.” They arrived at the room. Lillian noted that the room was well-lit with natural light. The walls were tastefully painted and the walnut flooring was gorgeous. Still, Lillian disliked the furniture arrangement. A red suede couch in the east, rather than the south were it belonged. A white Grecian bust on an ornate stand in the north, rather than the west. Lillian found exceptional objection to the collection of ugly bookcases infested with kitschy porcelain figurines. Lillian suppressed gagging at the mere sight of them. She got to work right away. Lillian lit sandalwood incense in the north and south ends of the room, agarwood in the east and west. She pressed her weight against the suede couch and began to shove it to the southern end of the room. A strong rumble shook the legs of Lillian and Mrs. Davidson. “You’re being too rough on the floor! Please be easy with that couch!” Mrs. Davidson said. “That’s not the floor. Just trust me.” Lillian continued on. Mrs. Davidson gained no comfort by this response; she kept her hands clasped firmly over her mouth, shaking impatiently. She next approached a misplaced shelving unit and began to toss the porcelain figurines into a cardboard box. The rumble of the room and vibration of the floor grew more intense. “Stop!” Mrs. Davidson said. “Be careful with those. They’re priceless!” “They’re bringing you bad energy.” Lillian continued to pile the figurines in the box for disposal. They’re cheap and ugly, too. “Stop!” Not Mrs. Davidson’s voice this time. A deep, masculine voice. Lillian ignored the objections from Mrs. Davidson and the disembodied voice. She had a job to do and she took it seriously. The spirit inhabiting the Davidson family’s home used the Greek statue as a conduit. The statue began to levitate and the room grew darker. Lillian paid no mind and continued to dispose of the figurines. “Ay dios mio!” The statue hovered and circled around Lillian. “Stop what you are doing now. Por favor!” Every piece of furniture in the room began to vibrate. “Not going to happen, Senior!” Lillian trudged on. Nearly every element of the room was in place. She hung paper lanterns at each corner of the room; southwest, southeast, and so on. “There’re only two episodes left. Just let me see the ending!” “You’ve bothered this family long enough. I think that a cliffhanger might be just what you deserve.” “That’s not fair! You don’t watch Vida y Amor or else you’d understand.” “Maybe. Maybe not. But interrupting this family’s life isn’t fair, either. You’ve had your own time in this world.” “Interrupting? Interrupting what? Trashy reality shows and celebrity gossip?” The statue shook violently. “I’m doing this family a service.” Mrs. Davidson said, “Oh, and your Mexican garbage is any better?” Following this remark Mrs. Davidson was violently thrown out of the room. In an instant she was gone and the doors slammed shut after her. Lillian remained steadfast. As she heaved and pulled at a black leather chair, edging it north, she was thrown against the wall. Mrs. Davidson pounded ceaselessly at the doors to the room, unable to get back in. “Let me down and we can work this out,” she said. “You obviously don’t believe in love” The voice grew sad. “Juan and Claudia belong together. They’re made for each other but they just can’t see it yet.” Lillian’s wrists and ankles were still stuck against the wall. Lillian struggled to free herself. “I sympathize with you so let’s make an arrangement.” Suddenly, she was released. “Move one more piece of furniture and I’ll snap your neck.” “I’ll take a seat here and we can come to some agreement. Take a seat yourself. Let’s be professional about this.” Lillian sat down. “If you use your powers to assault me one more time it will be the end of you.” Lillian sat in the chair, her back to the north. The possessed statue floated to a chair across from her and descended to a rest. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands. However,” the voice said, “I’m willing to compromise. Let me finish the season and I’ll leave for good.” “So you don’t have to agonize over it, I’ll spoil the ending. Claudia’s controlling father strangles Juan. They’ll never be together. Ever.” The chair she was seated in flew backwards, pushed by the apparition in a fit of rage. “Now you’ve done it,” Lillian said, “I appreciate your help.” The atmosphere in the room grew peaceful and relief washed over Lillian Hu. The leather chair’s northern position sealed the deal. It would have been too dangerous to attempt the move on her own but the ghost seemed more than happy to help. Mrs. Davidson burst through the doors to the room. “Is he gone!?” “Yes. He won’t be bothering you any longer.” Lillian brushed the dust and debris off of her suit. “Be sure to recommend me to your friends and family.”
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 04:01 |
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# ? Dec 2, 2024 19:42 |
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Figures the one time i need a few extra minutes is the time it cuts off exactly on time. Sweet Dreams 1098 words http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?story=1960&title=Sweet+Dreams crabrock fucked around with this message at 06:47 on Jul 1, 2014 |
# ? Mar 31, 2014 04:05 |
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Since I am just now starting the reading process, I won't immediately DQ you both. Don't make me regret this.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 04:18 |
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In lieu of gently caress words Once upon a time there was a girl who was the very best at getting screwed over by lackadaisical roommates. She scraped and cleaned until her hands bled and her back ached, but still every time she looked, there was more poo poo in her garage to deal with. Soon, it was well after dark and the girl was left alone with mounds and mounds of bric-a-brac and voluminous piles of abandoned prom dresses. This story might've ended differently, but remember this girl was preternaturally gifted at being the 'downhill' in the old adage about where poo poo flows. So, as the hour of reckoning approached in Thunderdome, our girl was seated in a cold garage waiting for some help and/or a quick death. Text messages poured in, sympathetic but useless. The girl discovered a dark, shadowy corner beside a nearby house with a 'for sale' sign out front. Surely no one would notice a few more items in the pile of trash that was already there, she thought. What happened to the girl after that, no one knows. But they say every so often, you can still hear soft exclamations of "gently caress" coming from the general vicinity of that dank and dusty garage somewhere in the inner city. THE END
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 06:18 |
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Crittin' this one.Sitting Here posted:In lieu of
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 06:31 |
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INTERPROMPT Soon it will be 1 April 2014, where companies will put up "hilarious" pranks and deface their websites and we the consumers laugh and laugh because ah how silly and how like people they are, ha ha ha, the capitalist culture of our society will soon be humanity's downfall and we are not wis- Ah, screw that. Write 250 words about a prank gone horribly right / wrong.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 10:07 |
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Critting this one:The Saddest Rhino posted:Firstly, I don't understand how a Rhino could be sad. Being dumb beasts, they have no emotions. Fix this.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 10:19 |
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:Critting this one: critting this crit: Your crit is boring and you are obtuse. I only made it about half way through before I had the brilliant idea to crit your crit, and did that instead of reading. Your underlines confused me. This is not proper critting etiquette!
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 12:23 |
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My Story That I Have Written Some specific number of words. "Ha ha," the hilarious internet poster joculated, "I have not actually written a story. I have, as they say, made you look. Are you not truly the April fools, O gullible readers?" But then he realized that in the act of posting a hilarious non-story, he had inadvertently written a story after all. O the horror! O the shame! His grand April Fools Day labors, undone! Also, it was only March 31.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 13:58 |
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The Saddest Rhino posted:INTERPROMPT Father’s Christmas. (176 words) ‘And then your mother told me, “You can think of it as an April Fool’s joke, but it will also be a great present for Christmas.” With you on the way I had to marry that bitch, but you know what, I remembered that.’ David winked at Jimmy, gave him his patented smirk and poured another glass of whiskey. ‘In the end I’ve got a great silk tie out of it, while your mother’s only got you from me. And her face when she’s found you under the Christmas tree – priceless.’ ‘You tell me this story every time I visit, and it’s time I tell you how it really went.’ Jimmy snatched the glass from David’s hand and emptied it in one gulp. ‘You’ve given her nothing for that Christmas, old man. Hadn’t Mr. Richardson cover for you, Mum would have been left without a present at all. And hey, he’s got me great blonde hair for my birthday, while you’ve only got alimony claims against you from Mum. Other than that, top joke there, Dave!’
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 16:39 |
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Spring Mounted Lego Launchers 10,000,000 words Mom was right. It really is all fun and games until someone loses an eye. I hope she brings Jim back from the hospital soon.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 17:39 |
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Whalley posted:Spring Mounted Lego Launchers 10,000,000 words Seriouscrit, this is brilliant.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 18:33 |
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Honk If You Love Fish 250 words "poo poo son, this is the best prank." "Right? It's gonna be fuckin' epic." The airhorn was taped under their boss' chair, and together they peered around the corner, waiting for Mr. Johns to come back from lunch. He walked in, sat his papers down, and took the last seat of his life. "HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONKKKK!" The scream from the horn blared around the office, and in the confusion, Mr. Johns fell to the floor. The cohorts, in their laudatory laughter, didn't notice that Mr. Johns wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing heavily, or even breathing at all. They finally realized that something was wrong, and ran to him. "Oh my god Darrel, call loving 9-1-1 or something, jesus..." Darrel took off, having left his cell phone on his desk. Ricky put his hands on Mr. Johns' chest, and realized that his hands were shaking too hard to do anything, much less CPR. He sat off to the side, rocking. "Oh poo poo, this is bad, this is so bad..." He closed his eyes, and put his head in his hands as he continued his rocking. He felt something warm on his ankle, and assumed he had pissed himself out of fear. He opened his eyes and saw Mr. Johns' hand firmly grasping his foot, and Mr. Johns sitting up. "Ha ha suckers! That'll teach you to gently caress with me!" The joke was on all of them, as placing fraudulent calls to 9-1-1 is punishable by law. The real winner in the end was justice.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 22:21 |
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Starter Wiggin posted:Honk If You Love Fish
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 23:25 |
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Judgment on the Pseudowalls Brawl for the Honour of Not Being the LoserPseudoscorpion posted:
RunningIntoWalls posted:Window of Opportunity - 700 words So yes not a fan of that one neither. However while pseudoscorpion's was fully terrible it was at least within a day's hard ride and a plane trip of a story worth telling, while the raccoon saga was just a hapless jumble of words. "Victory" to pseudoscorpion. Runningintowalls gains the losertar.
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# ? Mar 31, 2014 23:55 |
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Just as Important Thanks for the “tip” on your hundred-dollar dinner charge, Reverend Strump, but my kids can’t can eat Eternal Salvation for lunch.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 00:27 |
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It's a coincidence that it's dick shaped 246 words I never learned how to read, because there’s no instruction manual needed for being a wasp: just sting spiders and chase women coming out of church. Let’s see you try to hold on to that stupid big hat with two inches of fury coming at your face. That’s what I thought. But I ain’t stupid. I understand what a big circle around a picture means. Especially when it’s a picture of me. Look at that poo poo. Beautiful black body, dark amber wings. If I wasn’t so incredibly happy injecting my eggs into paralyzed spiders, I’d consider modeling. Anyway, some of the...slower...kids had failed to circle my picture. Instead they had selected some drat Jew cricket. And that poo poo just don’t fly, son. So yeah I flew in their faces, stinging at their eyes. And when they dropped their ballots sure I grabbed them in my mouth and flew away with them. And yes, I dropped them in the river so they could never be found. Pretty good prank. That’s how I became the state insect of New Mexico. Just like any other successful American: through hard work and a little unethical persuasion. Sometimes in the spring I sit on roof of the snack shack at the local baseball diamond and listen to them sing what I assume are the legends of my exploits. And who can blame me, since I’m already there, if I don’t help myself to a bite of that hot dog.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 01:29 |
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RESULTS: THUNDERDOME WEEK LXXXVI I asked you bozos for talented at being talentless, and while many of you certainly fall into the latter of those two designations, a few stories this week reminded us that some of you actually kind of know what you are doing. We saw a wide variety of talents on display this week, but it seems that whether your character was talented at bleeding for Subway or talented at buttchugging and biking, nearly all the stories this week left some form of bad taste on our palates. Except for HopperUK, who wrote a sweet and sinister fairy tale that seemed to scratch our judging itch the best. She is the winner. Following up on his heels, we have some honorable mentions for Kaishai and Tyrannosaurus, who both wrote stories about gritty, talented, dudes. The talentless pile is a degree more muddier. The judges all agreed that we disliked Masonity's attempt at super sleuthing although he will tell you the talented individuals were the bug tracker and the glassmaker so it gets a dishonorable mention. Also in the same boat is Nethilia, for writing a bland, boring, story about playing cards. ZorajitZorajit wins the special Sebmojo special DM of the week for the worst title and first line combination. quote:Obsolete Be happy that you didn't lose outright for making this sloppy pile of garbage. Finally, the loss this week goes to RunningIntoWalls. Although I don't like the idea of the same person scoring a loss in two consecutive weeks, your story was 1100 words of literally nothing happens, oh my god I am bored, please stop boring me like this. There was no plot, no tension, and no real character to speak of, only the sound of my teeth grinding together as I was forced to read your tripe. Detailed crits to come later in the week. HopperUK, the job is yours now, sucker. a new study bible! fucked around with this message at 18:36 on Apr 1, 2014 |
# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:09 |
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WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:
Holy shitmonkeys!
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:23 |
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HopperUK posted:Holy shitmonkeys! Prooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooompt.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:25 |
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PRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMPT
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:37 |
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WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:Prooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooompt. Sitting Here posted:PRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMPT
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:37 |
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You decide not to tell the officer where Gus went, and spend the rest of the day trying not to throw up from the stench of hamster piss. At lunch you see Molly sitting alone. You are working up the nerve to go ask her to the dance when you feel a tapping on your shoulder. You turn, and it’s Gus. “Hey man, thanks for not ratting me out.” You shrug “Oh, it’s nothing.” “No seriously, if I get in trouble two more times, I’m toast for the rest of the year, and I’ll have to repeat again. I’ll be the oldest eighth grader that’s ever been to this school.” “Oh, I didn’t know that,” you say, backing away slowly. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you this.” He offers you a small card. You take it. It’s a gift card for $25 to Don’s Donuts. “I can’t take this,” you say. You were taught not to accept gifts for doing something nice. Furthermore, you’re not sure doing something out of fear of a beating counts as altruistic. “Just take,” he says, shoving it back into your hand. “I stole a bunch of them.” He must see the look on your face because he quickly adds “Don’t worry, they’re untraceable. Nobody would suspect a nerdy-lookin’ kid like you anyway.” “Thanks?” “No problem.” Gus flashes a peace sign and walks away. Molly has been joined by her friend, and you curse Gus’ poor timing. Maybe you should have told on him after all. Twice now he’s interrupted your plans. You spend the rest of the day staring at the back of Molly’s head, planning your plan of attack for tomorrow. Friday Your mom makes you a healthy breakfast, but you are too distracted to eat. All you can think of is walking up to Molly and asking her to the dance. While it seems so easy in your head, every time you see her in the hallway you go catatonic. Why are you such a coward? You say bye to your mom and leave a few minutes early. The gift card in your pocket pokes your leg as if to say: “Hey, hey you. You’re hungry. Go get a donut.” Your grumbling stomach seconds, and you concede that you’re outnumbered. You park your bike and walk into the donut shop. The door chimes jingle, and you see Gus sitting at a back table, working on his homework. He looks up at you. Your first instinct is to run away, but you stand your ground. He waves you over. You walk over to his table, but don’t sit down. “Hey, gonna use that gift card I gave you?” “I was thinking about it.” “Get a maple bar; they’re the best.” You walk up to the counter and a jolly, overweight man comes out from the back. “Hi, what can I get for you?” You slip your hand into your pocket and feel the card. Will he know it’s stolen? What if he calls the cops? You glance over your shoulder and see Gus watching you. Do you Order a maple bar and pay with the stolen card. or Chicken out and run away, hungry and donutless. crabrock fucked around with this message at 18:31 on Aug 4, 2014 |
# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:40 |
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This is already so much worse than last week
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:48 |
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HopperUK posted:This is already so much worse than last week You're going to post without a prompt? What the gently caress?
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:59 |
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HopperUK posted:This is already so much worse than last week is this the prompt? where is the prompt. we been lookin for it a mighty long time, hopper. a mighty long time. there's a cold wind a-blowin. you better get on it.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 18:59 |
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Fix a passive verb in the opening line and end up buggering the whole thing. Well played me.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:20 |
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ZorajitZorajit posted:Fix a passive verb in the opening line and end up buggering the whole thing. Well played me. This isn't a prompt either. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:23 |
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Thunderdome LXXXVII: Touched by a Thunderdome Listen up fucknuts. I didn't expect to win and I don't want to have to read two dozen piles of poo poo to pay for it. I like reading, don't take that away from me. Your story will be about an angel or angels Not an alien, not a highly-evolved human, not some kind of technological trick. An actual angel of God. I don't mind what God is, I don't care if you draw from existing religious traditions or make up your own, but your story will contain or be about at least one goddamn angel. As usual no fanfic, no erotica. Judges: Me curlingiron Dr. Kloctopussy Sign-up by: Saturday, April 5th, 03:00 BST (THAT IS FRIDAY EVENING FOR MOST OF YOU FUCKS) Submit by: Monday, April 7th, 03:00 BST (THAT IS SUNDAY EVENING FOR gently caress'S SAKE) Word count: 1200 words Entrants: Jeza Djeser Jonked (Flash rule: The angel in your story is incapable of speech) WeLandedOnTheMoon! (Flash rule: Your story takes place on a ship) Sitting Here Erogenous Beef Whalley (Flash rule: Set in 14th-century Europe) tenniseveryone Starter Wiggin A Tin of Beans (Flash rule: Biblical angel) RunningIntoWalls (Flash rule: Must pass the Bechdel test) sebmojo Tyrannosaurus Nitrousoxide (Flash rule: Must contain violence but no death) Masonity Phobia (Flash rule: Your story must be told in the first person) Paladinus (Flash rule: Everyone in your story must be dead when it starts) Perpetulance (Flash rule: Your protagonist is an animal) nickmeister (dropped out like a coward) DreamingofRoses (Flash rule: Your story must prominently feature the London Underground) CommissarMega (Flash rule: A lost flashlight is a major plot point) Fanky Malloons lambeth (Flash rule: Angels are commonplace) Maultaschen elfdude ravenkult Entenzahn (Flash rule: Existence of angels unknown) Lake Jucas (Flash rule: Story must include a sentient AI) ZorajitZorajit God Over Djinn Fumblemouse Gau Grizzled Patriarch crabrock Thalamas Benny the Snake Kaishai Some Guy TT Sign-ups closed! HopperUK fucked around with this message at 21:43 on Apr 5, 2014 |
# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:35 |
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In
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:37 |
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I took mercy on WLOTM and spared him from my shitwords. You have no such luck. In.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:39 |
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In. Also gimme a flash rule you noob.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:43 |
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I AM SIGNING UP AND WOULD LIKE A FLASH RULE.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:43 |
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WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:I AM SIGNING UP AND WOULD LIKE A FLASH RULE. Flash rule: Your story takes place on a ship!
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:48 |
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Jonked posted:In. Your flash rule: the angel in your story is incapable of speech
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:49 |
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PROOOOOOO- oh. In! PS Crabrock is a feckless baby
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:51 |
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In.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:52 |
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IN and I kind of want a fuckin' flash rule hell yeah
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 19:59 |
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Whalley posted:IN and I kind of want a fuckin' flash rule hell yeah Flash rule: Your story is set in 14th-century Europe
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 20:01 |
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# ? Dec 2, 2024 19:42 |
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For reasons of international intrigue and also I can't be bothered, I will not be partaking of this week's challenge. I am instead choosing to do line-by-line critiques of a couple of this past round of stories about and by the miscellaneously talented. In accordance with Do a line-by-line crit of someone else's story from this past round. and Put "Crit me, Beard" somewhere toward the top of your post announcing the same. Limited time offer, void where prohibited, etc.
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# ? Apr 1, 2014 20:04 |