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Photoshop Contest Forum Index - Fun and Games - Creative Writing Game - Chapter 2! - Reply to topic

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What do you think of Creative Writing v2.0?

Better story this time around

100%

100%

[ 6 ]

Worse story this time around

0%

0%

[ 0 ]

What a let-down all the way around

0%

0%

[ 0 ]

I didn't participate but I'm still gonna gripe anyway

0%

0%

[ 0 ]

Total Votes: 6

TofuTheGreat

Location: Back where I belong.

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 8:50 am   Reply with quote         


The next installment is finished! I put a '-' between each submitter's addition so that people can see where the switch-offs occurred. If I missed putting in someone's part let me know and I'll re-insert it where it should be.

Just a reminder that this time around I only read what Eepi sent to me before writing my part. That way I could experience the game the same way everyone else did.

Here's the writers order:

1. Mason - Submitted
2. Goeny - Submitted
3. FootFungas - Submitted
4. Wendysmurfie - Submitted
5. Azionite - Submitted
6. Grefix - Submitted
7. Bic9000 - Submitted
8. Clantoncs - Submitted
9. Mightybeet - Submitted
10. Eepi - Submitted
11. TofuTheGreat - Submitted

It was a dark and stormy night. It was late as I leaned back in my comfy overstuffed chair and watched the television. It cast an erie blue light, bathing everything near it in the ghost-like color. The light did not reach the far edges of the room; instead, the walls and floor faded from the unholy light to a dark, unfathomable black. Without warning, the television shut off. Darkness engulfed the room. It was a stifling, suffocating blackness, blinding and incapacitating me. The hairs on my arms and neck stood on end, and I grasped the armrests of my chair. I began to sweat.

-

The drops of sweat dripped on the floor and there was a silence I never experienced before. At that moment it became cold,.. very cold! the drops of sweat started to freeze and there were breathclouds coming out of my mouth. I was wondering what all of this could be. "Why did you do this?..." a whispering voice said. "How could you let me suffer like this?" Where did the darkness came from, how could the tv shut off, how could it become that cold, from who are those voices that echoed n my apartment. All questions i had no answer to. I tried to ignore everything and went to bed.

-

I was awakened minutes later by a crash in my kitchen. I leapt out of bed, tore downstairs and saw the open kitchen window, A dark shape shot out it. I dove out the window after it, only after I did that did I realize it was a 2nd story window. With a loud crash I hit the ground, I got up shook my self off and then SCREAMED!. Standing there with an old welsh cockle pickler and a coke can stood a giant cockle! I tore down the street trying to escape. I paused for a second and was hit by the Old Welsh "he must have a lot of speed points" I thought as he thundered toward me.

-

Then i noticed a paper cup lying under a tree. I quickly got in to it and waited for the cockle to go away. I sat in the paper cup for 10 minutes when suddenly it became very quiet. Realy slowly i stood up from the cup and looked around. It seemed the cockle went away. I ren to the door of the house to go back inside. Before i opened the door i looked around again to see if the cockle was realy gone and i was confinced i was safe, but then i opened the door...

-

“SURPRISE” they yelled as the door flung open. “What?! A birthday party for me!?” We danced and sang and ate cake for three hours straight. It was a glorious time until I realized “Hey, it’s not my birthday!” What was going on? Now I was more confused than ever. Who were these people? I looked around the room and realized that I knew noone here. I began to suspect something was awry when the birthday cake said “Happy Birthday Bo Lackson”… Now it was all clear. I knew what I had to do. There were only a few unanswered questions that remained: Where was Karen? What happened to that cockle? How was a birthday cake talking? And most importantly: How did I fit in that cup!?

-

It's just a stupid plastic cup, just big enough to fit the cockle. But there I was, squashed in it and surrounded by a bunch of unknown idiots singing for Bo. I knew I had to get out of the room. I tried to break myself out of the darned thing. My attempts had little success. The cup didn't break, but I managed to tip it over. Wrong move I realized immediately. The cup started rolling towards the table. Straigt towards the singing cake. "Karen? Karen?!! Where are you now?", I yelled desperately. Stupid offcourse, Karen was gone, no way she could hear me. Suddenly something hit me, and stopped the rolling. Baffled by the shock, I heard a familiar mumbling. The cockle was back!

-

I spun round, looking frantically about to see what I could use to get my ass out of this mess.

A thousand and one crazy thoughts raced through my head until suddenly, in a moment of clarity, the solution presented itself to me in the form of 'a bunch of unknown idiots' - a somewhat strange name to call your group if you are the latest boy-band, but then, if my idea worked, in about 2 minutes time it wouldn't matter what they were called, as big, blue, blob-like cockles rarely ask the names of the things they eat.

Knowing the average, combined intelligence of boy-bands to be just below that of a traffic warden, I decided on a course of action.....

-

"Sing! Sing, damn you!" I shouted to "A Bunch of Unknown Idiots".
As mentioned already, boy bands are not the smartest bunch, but A.B.U.I. must have been especially sharp that day. Like trained monkeys, they collectively took a breath and were about to start singing, when suddenly one of them (which one is irrelevant, these guys in boy bands are all the same, anyway) stopped.
"Derrrr, wot does we supposed to singing?"
"Anything!" I shouted. "Just sing! Just sing!!"
One of the cockles edged forward. "To edge" is probably not the best verb to describe the motion of a cockle. The real motion is more of a combination of "sliding" and "rolling"--but there is no word for this in English. So, the cockle "edged" closer-- so close that I could smell the stench of it's two-dimensional breath reeking from its two-dimensional body. My life began to flash before my eyes: all my joys, all my embarassments, all my failures. Okay, there weren't many joys--mainly just a lifetime of embarassment and failure. I had made it to my memory of the eighth grade when I accidently had uncontrollable diarrhea in the public pool, when suddenly the band began to sing. It was one of their most popular hits (if you could call it anything close to truly "popular"). A favorite of 8 year old girls and native Chinese kids, but a disgrace to anyone who had actually read an English sentence in their life. The song went like this:

"Oooooooo girl
you make me wanna
make me wanna
make me wanna
ooooooooohhhh -- chick-chick-a
Mooooooove my body --chick-chick-a
make me wanna wanna wanna wanna..."

And so on. You'd really just become more stupid if I transcribed all the lyrics...
With the singing, the assembled cockles let out a pained groan and began to flee. Yet again, cockles don't really "flee" as much as "slide"/"roll" in a quick way in the opposite direction. Yet again, no English word for this action, so we will just say that they "fled". Still, the the boy band's singing appeared to have worked. The cockles were leaving.
"Alright!" I shouted. "It worked!"
"Ooooh-chick-chick-a," A Bunch of Unknown Idiots continued.
"Stop that incessant singing," I said, "and let's get out of here!"
It was then that we faced our biggest challenge yet. The cockles had not fled from the boy band's singing (horrible though it was), but from the worst, most horrible thing I could have ever imagined.
I spun around, and it was then that I stood face to face with..........

-

Kim Jong Il. He was looking for a new boy band to play at "King Jong Il Day 2006." He really liked boy bands... really liked boy bands. Talking about liked them so much that he highers them for "Kim Jong Il Day." He was wearing a flannel and smelt like maple syrup. Seems went just came back from a trip to Vermont. Seems hes a big fan of skiing and maple syrup. Talking by the gallons. He kept trying to snap his fingers but cursed under his breath as his fingers would stick together from his maple syrup binge. His body guard quickly ran over with a moist towelette and sporatically cleaned Kim's hand till they were red. I shook my head and silently said to myself, "man.. that guy needs to get new sunglasses."

I started to get nausious from the singing, the smell of maple syrup and moist toilettte. I ran outside to get some fresh air. "Fresh air" i thought as i walked out into the street. The smoke was thick. Cigarette butts across the sidewalk. The was a little man picking them up one by one hoping to find a lil tabacco left from the chainsmoking freakos. "Heheh.. lil man and a lil cigarette" i thought to myself, i wish i had my camera. He was wearing a "Kim Jong Il Day 2005" shirt. Why did i notice what these people were wearing. Maybe its because i was wearing 2 different colored socks. Not just any sock. One was from LA and the other NYC. Why? Cause it made sense earlier that day.

A taxi pulled up splashing the small man with the Kim JOng Il shirt. He started to scream at the taxi driver. I couldnt make it out cause it was in German, Dutch or whatever they speak over there but he had a Canadian accent.

Crowd started to surrend the taxi and the lil man. Many flashes from cameras all around and thats when I remembered where i put my camera. It was......

-

It was in a locker at the railway station. Two blocks from here. I still have plenty of time to get my camera and show the photos to Kim Jong Il.

Fifteen minutes later I was coming back to Kim's palace.
"You need a ride?"
I turned to look. There was a taxi driving slowly behind me.
"No thanks."
"Free of charge of course!" he said.
Something was wrong. I looked again. There were two men on the back seat. The lil man with his "Kim Jong Il Day 2005" shirt
And one of Kim's bodyguards.
The taxi stopped. I took the memory card out and threw the camera on the street.
And I ran. Ran for my life...

-

I knew why these goons wanted my pictures so bad. Kim did not want the world to know that he dressed like Britney Spears on the weekends and sang love songs to a life-size cardboard cutout of William Hung. I mean who would take a leader like that seriously? So I ran.

I ran for what seemed like hours when it occured to me that I run quite a bit. I also tended to change my identity way too many times for a sane person. But then again maybe I wasn't sane after all.

It was then that I began to question the realm of reality that I was in. I had vague memories of people named "Jeff" and "Karen" and "Forrest". But none of that mattered now. Because now I was running for my life with pictures of Kim Il Jong in a pushup bra and daisy duke shorts.

Man I couldn't wait to get out of there and get these photos to the National Enquirer. The payday from these pictures would finally mean indoor plumbing for the family and maybe even TWO-PLY tissue instead of leaves.

So I ran and ran and .....




_________________
Why I do believe it's pants-less o'clock! - Lar deSouza
”The mind is like a parachute, it doesn’t work if it isn’t open.” - Frank Zappa
Created using photoshop and absolutely no talent. - reyrey

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 9:41 am   Reply with quote         


these are good for you're health, people! I'm going to do it




_________________
"Recently, NASA scientists discovered that most people love to play video games but hate to die in fiery airplane crashes."
Goeny

Location: Maarssen-Broek, The Netherlands

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 9:59 am   Reply with quote         


I'm in again.. Very Happy Very Happy I really want to know what's going on in the rest of the story Razz




_________________
Chop, Chopper, Choppest
FootFungas

Location: East Coast!

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 10:07 am   Reply with quote         


Im in
Who did Jeff murder?




_________________
Look out behind you!
wendysmurfie

Location: Netherlands

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 10:07 am   Reply with quote         


uhm okay.... but i think it will make no sence again Laughing that's why i want to help make chapter 2! Very Happy I think the story need some socks... maybe a gorilla... who knows Laughing




_________________
Little things can make BIG differences Very Happy

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 10:28 am   Reply with quote         


Yup, Jeff must live on!
Count me in..

But I think people are going to be much crazier this time around... just to see how ludicrous the story can get.... Shocked



Az




Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 1:38 pm   Reply with quote         


mwoehahaha (daffy duck like laughing).. I'm in for some strange plottwists Shocked




_________________
I used to do stuff around here
Bic9000

Location: U.K.

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 2:59 pm   Reply with quote         


Yup, I'll scribble a bit more dribble

(And the condom was MY bit btw) Rolling Eyes




_________________
I know I'm God 'cos every time I pray, I feel like I'm just talking to myself!

Post Wed Mar 22, 2006 8:17 pm   Reply with quote         


the condom part was actually one of the funnier parts of the story. Very clever, it made me laugh at least.




_________________
"Recently, NASA scientists discovered that most people love to play video games but hate to die in fiery airplane crashes."
clantoncs

Location: JiangXi, China

Post Thu Mar 23, 2006 1:07 pm   Reply with quote         


I'll get in on this. Sadly, missed out on Chapter 1.
Trust me, though: Stephen King, Dave Eggers, the ghost of Franz Kafka, and I all hang out all the time to, you know, kick ideas around. With me on board, you'll have the next Pulitzer on your hands. Well, maybe at least an Oprah's Book Club selection.

Ok.. Actually, you'll probably get a meandering forum thread with lots o' shock value like Chapter 1 was. But that sounds like fun, too!

-Chris




mightybeet
Site Moderator

Location: connecticut

Post Thu Mar 23, 2006 2:16 pm   Reply with quote         


i cant write... Crying or Very sad but i can try




_________________

L@rue: I'm eating a bag of bbq chips and drink a cocacola

Post Thu Mar 23, 2006 3:00 pm   Reply with quote         


mightybeet wrote:
i cant write... Crying or Very sad but i can try
so it seems, should be i can't write Smile
Can't write either, but then again, I can't chop, but here I am on psc Laughing




_________________
I used to do stuff around here
Eepi

Location: Finland

Post Thu Mar 23, 2006 5:23 pm   Reply with quote         


I'm in




_________________
WANTED!
Schroedingers cat
Dead and alive
wendysmurfie

Location: Netherlands

Post Fri Mar 24, 2006 3:09 am   Reply with quote         


no no objections from me.

to all others: say you have no objections, cause if you do tofu will get very mad, search for his psc members voodoo dolls and starts working on you... realy last time i did not agree with that guy all my hair fell of, i no it was you tofu!!! Twisted Evil




_________________
Little things can make BIG differences Very Happy
mightybeet
Site Moderator

Location: connecticut

Post Sun Mar 26, 2006 11:26 pm   Reply with quote         


so... how does this work?




_________________

L@rue: I'm eating a bag of bbq chips and drink a cocacola

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Photoshop Contest Forum Index - Fun and Games - Creative Writing Game - Chapter 2! - Reply to topic

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