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March 19, 2007

3.19.07

Write a sequel to something written here by someone other than yourself last week.

(Linking to the original would be polite, of course...)

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Jim: Not Eaten Yet!

From the shrill screams behind us, we knew the monster was pushing through the midway crowd.

In classic fleeing-a-monster fashion, I grabbed my girl's hand and pulled her into a sprint toward the carnival rides. These were, as I suspected, held together by little more than cotter pins and bailing wire.

One large rock will do the trick, I thought.

So…

With a boulder on my shoulder, feelin' kinda older, I tripped the merry-go-round. With this very unpleasin' sneezin' and wheezin', the calliope crashed to the ground.

The monster was blinded by the light and we continued our frantic escape.

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Tanya: Untitled

Tommy and the other local boys came to get her at the orphanage, calling to her quietly in the early morning stillness, “C’mon Jeanie, come out.”

She snuck out by the rickety bathroom window, sliding down Miss Margaret’s prized rose trellis, and they ran laughing into the woods.

They didn’t like her the same way they liked Mary and Joy; she knew she wasn’t pretty. But she could do something they couldn’t do.

She took the rifle from Tommy and beat all their shots.

“Gosh. You’re the best, Jeanie.”

“Shut up and get me another whiskey bottle, Tommy,” she grinned.

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David: A Few Hours

This was going to be tricky, Frank admitted, putting the note back down beside the coffeepot. He ran to the bedroom for his wallet: cash gone, cards cut in two. Very tricky.

He’d track Lisa down eventually, no worries there. The family would help handle his slimeball brother. His most pressing concern was Lisa’s sister, Jamie, reportedly resting in pieces in the garage. He knew a guy to take care of that who owed him a favor.

But that Buick was cherry, and Frank knew from experience how hard it was to get blood stains out of white leather upholstery.

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Stacy: Contact

Dotus spun out the nightly tale, firelight reflecting oddly on his painted face. They all knew the stories, had heard them since womb-time, but he was a born logios and held them enraptured.

Nidas shifted uncomfortably as Dotus drew the tale to a close, conscious of the furtive glances sent his way. He couldn’t help it if he were named for the Great One. The looks made him think they expected the same from him, a thought that brought no little terror. He was rescued from his discomfort by little Silea, breathless and tugging at his sleeve.

“Nidas, they’ve come…”

Read more from Stacy's .

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Jeff R.:What we Deserve Today

The workmen stayed at it through 7pm. I don't know how much it cost. It's a big expansion. We can afford it, with all of the long nights he's putting in.

If they're billiable hours, at least, and he isn't just screwing that whore secretary.

He said that was over, and I believed...then. But when he called, sad he'd be back around ten, I swear I heard that bitch giggling in the background.

The head workman, the one with the creamers and abs, sent the others home. It would serve him right...

I ask if he wants beer and burgers.

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Ted: Now How Much Would You Pay?

"You were worth $186,418,227.48 as of last night's market close. As of 10a.m., you have lost over $75M of that amount. Your loans are due, your health is failing, and you couldn't get arrested in this town if you pulled a Mel Gibson, a Nicole Ritchie, and a John Belushi simultaneously. You are going to die within six months because your liver is shot. Die penniless.

Unless you wish sign this contract and gain perfect health. You'll live another fifty years."

"Just money? I thought you wanted my soul."

"That's ours already. Think Las Vegas 'whale' treatment and you'll understand."

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