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The Sean
Apr 16, 2005

Am I handsome now?



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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crabrock
Aug 2, 2002

aka sticklegs



Grimey Drawer

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/?...le=Sweet+Dreams

crabrock fucked around with this message at Jul 1, 2014 around 06:47

a new study bible!
Feb 1, 2009



BIG DICK NICK
A Philadelphia Legend
Fly Eagles Fly


Since I am just now starting the reading process, I won't immediately DQ you both.


Don't make me regret this.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

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

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.

Crittin' this one.

Sitting Here posted:

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. Well, that kind of takes some of the suspense out of what our protagonist might be the best at, but OK. 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, OK now this felt a little weird, because the previous sentence felt like a 'this happens in general' kind of thing, but the word 'soon' implies a specific timeframe. Maybe tighten up the previous sentence I dunno. 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. I like the imagery here.

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. Ooooh, a for sale sign! A twist? A move on the cards? Surely no one would notice a few more items in the pile of trash that was already there, she thought. Immediate disappointment. Why do you want to hurt us?

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. Ending is a bit wishy washy. Would've liked a more definite end.

THE END

The Saddest Rhino
Apr 29, 2009

I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning


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.

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010

I got it wrong. Look, I'm well aware I got it wrong and uh, I got it wrong.


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.

INTERPROMPT Oooh. Direct, forceful hook. I like.

Soon it will be 1 April 2014 nice, setting and genre in one neat package. What wacky hijinks will ensue?, where companies will put up "hilarious" pranks and deface their websites sarcasm is v. postmodern. This will sell well in Portland. and we the consumers laugh and laugh because ah how silly and how like people they are, ha ha ha, don't tell me how I'm feeling, make me FEEL it the capitalist culture of our society will soon be humanity's downfall a political angle, nice. I heard from the boys in PR that teenagers are going nuts for that poo poo right nowand we are not wis-

Ah, screw that. NO PORN IN TD MEANS NO PORN IN TD. DISQUALIFIED. Write 250 words about a prank gone horribly right / wrong. BURN IN HELL.

crabrock
Aug 2, 2002

aka sticklegs



Grimey Drawer

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!

docbeard
Jul 18, 2011

High marks for compassion, low marks for survival skills





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.

Paladinus
Jan 11, 2014



The Saddest Rhino posted:

INTERPROMPT
Write 250 words about a prank gone horribly right / wrong.

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!’

Whalley
Mar 5, 2004

neato devito


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.

Quidthulhu
Dec 17, 2003

Stand down, men! It's only smooching!


Whalley posted:

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.

Seriouscrit, this is brilliant.

Starter Wiggin
Feb 1, 2009

Screw the enemy's gate man, I've got a fucking TAIL!
Do you know how crazy the ladies go for those?


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.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk

Starter Wiggin posted:

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.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk

Judgment on the Pseudowalls Brawl for the Honour of Not Being the Loser

Pseudoscorpion posted:

And with crits in mind, have a brawl! I intend to either redeem myself in the eyes of my peers, or crash and burn and continue to write poo poo for the rest of my days! Well, the latter one is a given, but maybe I can do the former one! Really, no-one cares. I'm going to be kind and not penalise you for this: think of that mercy as a one-time deal, like one of'em lotto scratchies you get from the corner store and scrape the silver stuff off with a coin (you didn't win anything).

Blood Stones
(699 Words)
=====
My brother and I? Who is he talking to? It doesn't need to be specific, but if it's a vague sort of tellin' a yarn kind of thing always consider just cutting the framing. We were like two peas in a pod. cliche Everywhere he went, I went, and through thick and thin, cliche we always knew that the other had our back cliche. So how did I you were talking about your brother, now you're not? end up with my hands in the air, surrounded by cops? ...well, let's start from the beginning. HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DO THAT THEN AND CUT THE FLUMGUBBLY

-----

It was a normal day, just like any other. STUFF WAS BORING NEVER TELL ME STUFF WAS BORING BECAUSE THEN I GET BORED AN TAKE MY EYEBALLS ELSEWHERE Zach and I are – I'm sorry, were ooh twist, though you don't make anything of it so it's more of a cheat. Cheatin' gets you murdered in imaginary old West poker games fyi – twins, and we've always done everything together. We were roommates, coworkers, colleagues, and comrades. Imagine my surprise NO YOU'RE THE GODDAM WRITER YOU IMAGINE IT FOR ME THIS IS NOT A SELF SERVICE STORY BUFFET when Zach comes up to me, right in the middle of our break, and drops a bomb on me.CLICHE

“Hey, uh, Adam.” Zach muttered. “There's, uh, something important I need to tell you...” I rolled my eyes, knowing very well where this was leading. Zach wouldn't dance around the question if he didn't mess something up.
shut up

“What did you do this time, Zach?” I said, laughing. I fully expected that he messed up a report or an assignment – again.

He chuckled. “You joker!” what joke was told please i need to know His smile quickly faded, along with the color in his face. “...sorry, this isn't the time for that.” what did i miss the joke He gulped. “I made a bad deal. One of my friends was offering to sell me rocks more cheatin, noone calls rock candy rocks for cheap, and I took the offer.”

I shrugged. “Big deal. Your bad habits are nothing new to me.” BEEP BOOP NO ONE TALKS LIKE THIS NOT EVEN ROBOTS THEY'RE ACTUALLY QUITE SUAVE MOST OF THEM

He grabbed me by the shoulders. “I don't think you understand. I was set up! We have to go, now!”

“...I'm gonna regret this. What's our plan?”

“We gotta skip town, lay low for a while. The cops will be looking-”

Wait, wait, wait. What?!” I growled.

Zach shrunk. “Sorry, bro...You can still back out.”

“Never!”

He grinned. “Let's go.” THIS IS ALL P AWFUL CLICHE DIALOGUE

-----

We ran for what felt like hours. Zach was never as athletic as me, but his stamina surprised me. Guess things are different when in danger. if things are tense don't be casual We ducked down an alleyway on the outskirts of town, a good twenty-something miles more cheating from our office even more cheatin you'd deader than a plumb bob nickel, pardner, and promptly collapsed.

“Darn it,” I spat. Zach was splayed across the ground, chest heaving with every greedy breath he took.

“So where are we going, exactly? We can't run forever.” NOR CAN THIS STORY can sumpin happen pleaseI asked between gulps of air.

“There's a safe place a few more miles away, we'll be safe there until the coast is clear. It's just-” Zach stopped, and put his hand up to his ears. who does this? oh yes people in terrible stories I heard it, too. Sirens, heading our way.

“Darn.” I muttered dude we had a whole week on how terrible saidbookisms are, pay attention. “If we stay here, we're done.”

“I dunno if I can keep this up.” Zach panted.

“I'm not gonna leave you. We can still do this, we just need to think smart.” I said, pulling him to his feet. “We can make more ground weaving between buildings. C'mon, let's move.” cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché. And cliché.

We jogged between the nooks and crannies of the city did you hop around its furrows and undulations too, sprinting across streets, occasionally stopping for breathers. The ever-present wail of the sirens behind us was a constant reminder of what we had to lose. We took one last break a few blocks from the safe house. NOTHING HAS loving HAPPENED DID YOU NOTICE THAT this is me summarising the story so far: One day my brother came and said we had to run. So we ran! We ran, and ran, and ran and ran then sat down. Then we ran and ran.

“Think I twisted the darn thing.” Zach said, nursing his ankle. I frowned. A TWIST! lol. pity it is also cliche

“We can't stop now.” I said.

“I know, but – ow!” He shouted, falling to the ground. “I don't think I can go.”

“No, come on. I'll help you.” I hoisted him up, but it was too late for us. The sirens reached their peak, mountaineerin sirens in this story they are like goats or something and we could make out UGH UGH UGH the sounds of people moving.

Zach frowned. “I'm sorry, Adam. The rocks are worth more than you.” He shoved me hard. I stumbled, landing on my rear don't you mean PATOOTIE? right in the middle of the street. I caught a glimpse down the alleyway ... well... good? as I fell. Zach was running away. Liar.

“Freeze!” An overwhelming voice blasted. oh god this sentence i don't even have the words Slowly, I climbed to my feet and raised my hands in the air. That was it. Game over.

-----

*riiiiiiiiiing!*
The recess bell rang, and I lowered by arms. The cops cried out in despair. “Maaaan, we almost won, too!”

Zachary skipped back to me, weaving through the trees. “Sorry bro. You know how it is.” he grunted between bites of rock candy. I hope it was worth it, I thought. So this is a trick ending which I hate, it's a bad trick ending which I hate even more and it's a bad cheaty trick ending which I hate with the power of thousand exploding suns.

Next time, I'll be a cop. LOL IT WAS ALL A GAME ok no not lol at all that was super terrible and you should feel ashamed. There's a perfectly decent story germ in twin bro's running away from the cops and you screw it up comprehensively. Possible loser.

RunningIntoWalls posted:

Window of Opportunity - 700 words

I threw my gym bag into my apartment. very vague and a terrible opening line. I collapsed into a couch near my only window and opened it to cool down. yawn guess im tired too though I wasn't before starting your story hmm interesting The breeze that wafted in felt great on my sore, sweaty body and I breathed a sigh of relief.cliche, also my yawn is getting bigger I leaned out off the window to enjoy the view. Cars and trucks, with horns blaring and the occasionally piercing siren wail filled the apartment with sounds of the city. serious my heads right back at this point yawning is underrated as a fun thing to do Trees near my window swayed and cast long shadows signifying that the sunlight was not for long.OH IS THAT WHAT SHADOWS MEAN I always thought they were the spirits of the vengeful dead heh

I left the couch and found a journal, an old used thing that contained my workout routine. I marked down today’s workout: 45 diamond push-ups, 15 minute standing jog, 30 minutes of planking, and 15 minutes of jumping jacks. This was not a personal best but it was a good enough restart after a few weeks of not going. My reward for all my hard work was a shower. The water was warm and melted the stress and sweat from the gym, the city and from work. After I changed into some fresh clothes, I looked into my fridge to see if I had leftovers I could snack on. I took the some leftover chili and hit reheat on the microwave. After half a minute, the chili and the bowl I placed it in were hot. I deleted some dumb words you accidentally left in your story

“It should be fine in a few minutes,” I thought to myself. I looked at the clock hanging above the fridge. It was 5:30 PM, a little early for dinner and the shower, fresh clothes, and the now cool apartment meant a quick nap was in order. I lay on my back in bed with the door half open and closed my eyes. oops did it again

The next moment I recalled was hearing I understand around no words of them some scratching sounds. I was groggy for a few seconds and snapped out of it when I hear crash and splat. dude your story got attacked by a dumb words raccoon did u know that Sounds of eating came nearby wut and I crept out of THE bedroom, grabbing a small Swiss Army knife for meager protection. I peeked around my door and noticed a small, bushy tail. As I saw more of the brown fur and black rings, I realized what happened: I left the window open; this raccoon crawled on from a nearby tree, THIS IS BOTH THE SUMMARY AND THE ENITRE loving CONTENT OF YOUR STORY enticed by the smell of the chili, which is tense, broseph now all over my floor. I moved back in the bedroom, trying to avoid detection, but the raccoon was enjoying the chili so much; the building could be demolished this second and he wouldn’t notice that. if you are telling us something that happened and then find yourself saying 'but it didn't matter' then take that as a message from you to you that whatever you wrote shouldn't be in the story
A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was now 7:30. A moment of dread passed over me. What else could be in here, what else was in here? I took two deep breaths. I peeked outside the door and the raccoon was curled up by the radiator, fast asleep. I tiptoed out of my apartment, being extremely careful not to disturb the small thing and sought out my neighbor Mo. whoa it is just a mess of dumb words, next time have a go with the dustbuster (but for words) next time ok

Mo was a big man, standing three inches higher than my 5 foot 10 self with the voice to match. He volunteered at an animal hospital, and as a result, carried humane traps to help transport wounded or sick animals. His expressions soured as I told him my story. At the end of it, he grabbed gloves and cage that locked on the bottom to prevent the raccoon from escaping.
After gently placing the unwanted guest in the cage and closing my window, Mo drove my car to the park, with me and the raccoon sharing the back seat. He woke up about half way there and started to thrash. He clawed at the cage, seat-belt, and the seats. I saw in the rear view that Mo had a smile while I was pressed up against the car door.

The park was deserted when we got there. When the raccoon disappeared into the trees near the opened cage, Mo stared me down and had said the first thing to me the whole night.

“Andy, do me a favor. Either close your window after about thirty minutes after opening it or buy a goddamn screen.” WHOA WHAT A TWIST

One silent car ride home and my new window screens were installed a week later. MY UNDERSTANDING OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT HAS BEEN ENLARGED AND MAGNIFIED AS A RESULT OF THIS STORY IN WHICH NOTHING HAPPENS AND NOONE CHANGES AND CAN BE SUMMARISED IN A LINE WITHOUT REMOVING ANYTHING OF IMPORT HOLY CRAP WHOA MY YAWN HAS TURNED INTO A GAPE OF EXISTENTIAL AWE

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.

Nethilia
Oct 17, 2012

Hullabalooza '96
Easily Depressed
Teenagers Edition


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.

crabrock
Aug 2, 2002

aka sticklegs



Grimey Drawer

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.

a new study bible!
Feb 1, 2009



BIG DICK NICK
A Philadelphia Legend
Fly Eagles Fly


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

“Most of you probably don’t remember me,” the venerable man said from behind the podium at the head of the dining roomA smattering of polite laughter died down, “I hired Jerry on back in ’86, while we were still working on the Thunder Mega-Titan.

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 Apr 1, 2014 around 18:36

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Lipstick Apathy

WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:


HopperUK, the job is yours now, sucker.

Holy shitmonkeys!

a new study bible!
Feb 1, 2009



BIG DICK NICK
A Philadelphia Legend
Fly Eagles Fly


HopperUK posted:

Holy shitmonkeys!

Prooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooompt.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

PRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMPT

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:

Prooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooompt.


Sitting Here posted:

PRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMPT

crabrock
Aug 2, 2002

aka sticklegs



Grimey Drawer

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 Aug 4, 2014 around 18:31

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Lipstick Apathy

This is already so much worse than last week

angel opportunity
Sep 7, 2004

Total Eclipse of the Heart

HopperUK posted:

This is already so much worse than last week

You're going to post without a prompt? What the gently caress?

A Tin Of Beans
Nov 25, 2013



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.

ZorajitZorajit
Sep 15, 2013

No static at all...

Fix a passive verb in the opening line and end up buggering the whole thing. Well played me.

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006

I failed to submit because I was so excited about New Zealander Tim Price winning the Burghley Horse Trials on the quirky but freakishly talented Ringwood Sky Boy

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.

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Lipstick Apathy

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 Apr 5, 2014 around 21:43

Jeza
Feb 13, 2011

The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear them.


In

Djeser
Mar 22, 2013



I took mercy on WLOTM and spared him from my shitwords. You have no such luck.

In.

Jonked
Feb 15, 2005

by exmarx


In.

Also gimme a flash rule you noob.

a new study bible!
Feb 1, 2009



BIG DICK NICK
A Philadelphia Legend
Fly Eagles Fly


I AM SIGNING UP AND WOULD LIKE A FLASH RULE.

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Lipstick Apathy

WeLandedOnTheMoon! posted:

I AM SIGNING UP AND WOULD LIKE A FLASH RULE.

Flash rule: Your story takes place on a ship!

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Lipstick Apathy

Jonked posted:

In.

Also gimme a flash rule you noob.

Your flash rule: the angel in your story is incapable of speech

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

PROOOOOOO-

oh.

In!

PS Crabrock is a feckless baby

Erogenous Beef
Dec 20, 2006

i know the filthy secrets of your heart


In.

Whalley
Mar 5, 2004

neato devito


IN and I kind of want a fuckin' flash rule hell yeah

HopperUK
Apr 29, 2007

Clear off, fatso, this is a respectable establishment





Lipstick Apathy

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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docbeard
Jul 18, 2011

High marks for compassion, low marks for survival skills





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 my being a huge copycat tradition, to earn my pointless meanderings about your story, you must:

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.

  • Locked thread
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