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June 25, 2007


Oh, boy! I finally get the Monday theme so I'm going to plagiarize somebody else's brilliant Monday theme.

Take a story written by another writer in the past two weeks and expand on it.

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David: The Second Wave

The difference between Fast Zeds and regular Zeds is like the difference between killer bees and regular bees. You don’t want to get stung by either type, but the regular ones are so much less aggressive.

A person could walk through a field of Zeds, and if they’re paying attention and quick on their feet, they’ll get through okay. Never try that with Fast Zeds. I saw someone try, down in the sewers. They swarmed him, ripped him limb from limb, and fought over the pieces.

Not that the hoarding bastard didn’t deserve it. But it was time to leave.

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Jeff R.:Ding, Dong

The mob dispersed, returning home, washing blood from hands and clothes. Saul Jobson's boy saw his father at the soap, asked what he was doing. Saul made excuses, but didn't think the boy believed, and smothered the lad in his bed, burying him out back.

Others were doing likewise, disposing of children, brothers, or wives that knew too much. By week's end they'd a taste for killing, and were settling every grudge, satisfying every appetite they never knew they had.

The bell didn't stop ringing until the last man in Virtue clubbed the last woman to death with a shovel.

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Stacy: Magic Shoppe, Closing Time

She locked the door behind the day’s last idiot tourist, grumbling to herself. Never wanted to pay a thing’s value, them. Always looking to get out with something truly magical for mere pennies. Well, true magic had cost, dammit, and she wasn’t running a charity here.

She settled down to her workbench and picked up the red shoes. Aye, magic had cost, often paid in blood back in the day...

With a pair of silver tweezers she carefully placed inch long thorns down in the toes of the shoes. The next idle shopper would learn about cost, aye, they would.

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