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BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 02 Aug 11 - 04:10 PM SCENE# 3 MICHEAL'S STUDIO Michael enters, Scott at piano,..Richard looking over music charts. SCOTT How's Heather? MICHAEL Haven't seen her yet. SCOTT How's Joy?? MICHAEL Don't know, I barely see her in passing. SCOTT I leave tomorrow night…I'll be gone for a week or two. MICHAEL Swing by when you're back..I should be done by then RICHARD (impatient) That would be nice…I thought you said it would be only a couple of days..been over a week MICHAEL I'm going as fast as I can… funny thing though, there's a strangeness about that place. I start working, then I get hit with an odd feeling… and I just stand there like a spaced zomboid. RICHARD Don't get TOO spaced out.. You have a couple of laser projects waiting to get started. Just keep banging it out. ..you can't afford to get sidetracked, and waste time. MICHAEL No problem.. I'll just use whatever is 'zoning me out' to inspire me to write SOMETHING altogether NEW… you watch! .. What have you done today? RICHARD I just got in.. Thought I'd go over these charts. SCOTT Not much…. Just tinkering around on the piano. You think I'm thinking about Heather? I'm not. Michael rolls his eyes, shakes his head, sighs, as to say, "Yeah, sure!" GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 02 Aug 11 - 04:06 PM SCENE #2 (AFTERNOON) SFX --SOUNDTRACK --'Dangerous Days' PRESENT DAY EXT. AERIAL VIEW --JOY"S BACK YARD TITLES: " YEARS LATER" Woman lounging, sunning, relaxing. JOY, mid 30's, blonde wearing a one piece black bathing suit, sunglasses, hair wrapped in towel. (At the time, Michelle Pfeiffer was slated for the part) WIDER VIEW Old truck on street, in distance, approaching house. EXT. JOY"S FRONT DOOR MICHAEL & SCOTT SCOTT -- Tall thin, curly haired, somewhat of a 'professional inheritor'. Reserved. Michael knocks ..waits .. Knocks again. MICHAEL They'd better be ho….. The door opens. They are greeted by HEATHER, mid-teen, very cute, perfectly beautiful girl, long blonde hair, blue eyes. JOY"S daughter. Dead ringer for a younger version of JOY. MICHAEL Hi, we're here for the paint job. HEATHER Oh, wait, let me get my mom. She turns, disappears. Scott and Michael are watching her closely. SCOTT Shit!! Did you see that?! What an 'Erector Set'!! MICHAEL Look, we're here to paint, so if you don't think you can keep at least one of your minds on - - SCOTT Don't worry, you know me better than - - Door swings open. Joy appears wearing no make up, towel and sunglasses. Very covered up. MICHAEL Hello, my names is Michael, the painter. Your friend Jean sent me over to look at your house. I believe she told -- JOY Oh yes… My name is Joy, come on in. MICHAEL Yes Ma'am. They enter the house. INT. JOY"S HOUSE MICHAEL This is Scott, one of my helpers. JOY I had a painter before, but he was so slow and hardly spoke any English. He did the walls, but I need to get the doors and trim finished. SERIES OF SHOTS Michael and Scott looking at work to be done, meanwhile taking lustful, but cautious notice of Heather.. (AD LIB) BACK TO SCENE MICHAEL (While figuring the costs) So, you want just the baseboards, door casings, and doors, right? JOY Right. Heather walks by. MICHAEL I could do it for $575. JOY (Surprised) Sure! Your price is very reasonable. Heather walk by. MICHAEL No problem. This should take only two or three days anyway. When do you want us to start? JOY How about tomorrow, or the next day? He jots down his number on a piece of paper. MICHAEL Fine. Here's my phone number. JOY That will be great! See you then! He turns, opens door, Scott, then Michael exits. EXT. FRONT OF JOY"S HOUSE Heather giggling, calls from door as Scott and Michael leave. HEATHER (O.S.) (Giggle, Lilting voice) G'Bye….. Michael and Scott turn together, enter truck, and drive off. INT. SCOTT'S TRUCK While driving down the street, a few moments of thick silence, together at the same time: MICHAEL & SCOTT (Together, in unison)) Did you see - - SCOTT - -The …Daughter?! MICHAEL - - how ….little there is to paint? They look at each other, and start laughing. SCOTT What a babe!! Don't tell me you didn't check her out! MICHAEL Sure, but she's a little young, don't you think ? SCOTT Well, maybe for you….. MICHAEL I'm NOT getting involved with her, even if she were older….or foxier! SCOTT Why not? MICHAEL As a man gets older, he begins to know what is good for him…..and so should his woman! - - SCOTT You could easily use having a woman around. Think of the kids….. MICHAEL Yeah, that's all I need….a mom for the kids who's about a year or two older than my duaghter! SCOTT (In a conniving tone) You could always hit on the mom MICHAEL Gimme a break! Besides, I have too much work to do, not only that, did it ever occur to you that she might already be married??? SCOTT I doubt it. I didn't see a ring on her finger. MICHAEL Look! I'm not up for starting any sort of relationship with ANYONE, especially nowadays. Too much work for so little return. This is just another paint job, and not the first one I've done, when there is some fox in the house. Usually it's a bored, middle aged house wife, hangin' around just waiting for you to hit on 'em! It's bullshit! It's all bullshit! L.A. is full of 'em. They get together and encourage themselves to be single and bored. They just get older and more bored, and boring….did I mention older? Next they get bitter, and blame it all on the all the men they've had in their lives. It's all bullshit!! SCOTT O.K ..Okay Don't get pissed! MICHAEL Sometimes I just can't help it..Then guys like you, my friends, come along and wonder why I don't go for them. All you do is invite their bitterness into your life. Then they spend years playing games, testing you, to find out if you are going to be as big as an asshole, as their first four or five ol' men, that they threw out. I wonder if it occurs to them, that THEY are the biggest reason that all their men turned into assholes! SCOTT Yeah, but I know some ladies that are alright, and it was the guys they married that were the assholes. MICHAEL Then why marry them in the first place?! I'm not saying that it's the woman's fault, necessarily, Nor the man's, that pisses me off ….. What gives me the ass is STUPIDITY, no matter what sex it comes through! …and then I might add, that YOU, thinking about getting strung out on some Cute teenage chippy-fox, just because she's so fuckin' cute, is part of that STUPIDITY of which I speak! SCOTT (Acquiescing ) OK…..Shit, don't get pissed! Don't forget, I offered to help you for nothing. MICHAEL I just want to make sure that you and your infatuation with the customer's daughter don't get in the way of the job getting done….JEEZE!! INT. MICHAEL'S STUDIO Michael and Scott enter. Richaed sitting on stool, playing bass. RICHARD: Tall, loud, somewhat jaded, being divorced, and having custody of his two children , but very intelligent and articulate, from New Jersey, and a serious student of music. Speaks with Jersey accent. RICHARD So, how'd it go? MICHAEL OK, We got it. RICHARD GOOD! Every buck counts! MICHAEL I'm going into the house to check on the kids and grab a bite. Back in a bit. Michael exits. Just then Richard looks up at Scott. RICHARD So, how much is he going to charge? SCOTT (Disgruntled) About five seventy five, or something like that. RICHARD That's not much! SCOTT I know. I don't even know why he's wasting his time. RICHARD You seemed bummed out. SCOTT Yeah. RICHARD What's wrong? SCOTT Aw …. It's Michael ..He's been raggin' on me. RICHARD How come? SCOTT I don't know. We go over to this house and meet this lady, who's got this daughter, a mega-fox, and ever since, he's been chewin' my ass, just because I was attracted to her. RICHARD (laughs) Well, he's probably right, you know. SCOTT (thoughtfully) Yeah, I suppose so. RICHARD Don't let it get you down, besides you know Michael. He's got so much to do all the time. The thought of re-directing his time and energy into chicks probably conjures up nothing but hassle! He's probably freaked out that you're going to get hooked onto her daughter in the middle of a project, and waste time. SCOTT You think that was bad? You should have heard him after I brought it up to him, that maybe HE should consider hooking up with a woman! RICHARD Can you blame him?? He's been through a lot, and still crankin'. He's cautious about women, And doesn't want them hangin' around for nothing'. SCOTT I thought it was something else. RICHARD Hard to understand him, ever since he had this experience quite a few years ago. SCOTT Bad relationship? RICHARD He says it's a dimensional thing….spiritual or mystical vision thing…I don't know…but no matter what he goes though, he seems to always land on his feey. His 'luck' is uncanny. He's been different, ever since. Just then Michael enters the studio. MICHAEL Am I interrupting something? RICHARD (changes tone) No. Get your guitar. MICHAEL Oh, OK…Why don't we work on that song we started last week. As he walks across the room, to his guitar stand…. MICHAEL Just got off the phone with Joy,..lady with the paint job…She's leaving in the morning…leaving me a key in the flower pot, by her front door….. SCOTT (Somewhat timidly) I was thinking' about what you said earlier..about Heather, the daughter..I think you might be right…I shouldn't be over there, I'd probably screw things up. MICHAEL You don't have to be…Don't worry about it. SCOTT Yeah, and I'm going on that trip anyway. It's not that I don't want to work -- MICHAEL I said 'Don't worry about it'. It's not a big job that I can't handle. EXT. JOY'S HOUSE --MORNING Old pick-up paint truck pulling into driveway. Michael on porch reaching into hanging flower pot ...finds key. INT. JOY'S HOUSE SERIES OF SHOTS #1 Michael looking around to make sure nobody is there. #2 Stirring paint in can. #3Michael painting #4Breaks for lunch. LATE IN AFTERNNON : #5 Michael looking tired, begins packing up. NEXT DAY : MORNING: #6 Michael driving up Joy's street, passes Joy who is driving and old oxidized BMW. He waves. very quick …. He does not get a good look at her, nor tries. (NOTE: Up to this point, he never has really seen her.) #7 Michael on Joy's porch, searches for key, gets key, enters front door. INT. JOY"S HOUSE #8 Sees note on table, picks it up, and reads it. NOTE (Voice over: Joy's voice) Please keep this key with you. (signed) "Joy" Michael pulls pen from pocket, writes "O.K", the chuckles. Michael painting. …STOPS…He looks around, as if he thought he hears something…he stares a moment, shrugs it off….repeats…. MICHAEL Get back to work, FOOL! Later, pouring paint in a bucket…STOPS…as if an unseen voice is calling him. He appears slightly dazed. Shakes his head, as if to shake himself out of it, and returns to working. AFTERNOON: INT. JOY'S SERVICE PORCH Michael painting baseboards SFX -- (O.S.) -- Front door opens then shuts. Sounds of high heeled footsteps hurriedly crossing room. He peers around corner, sees back of Joy disappearing into hallway.. Returns to painting. JOY (O.S.) Looks good, I've got to leave…I'm in a hurry… lock up . MICHAEL (monotone) O-KA-A-A-A-Y JOY (O.S.) (slight lilt in voice) Thank you-u-u- SFX --(O.S.) -- Front door shutting..footsteps leaving…car starting…pulling out, leaving. INT. JOY'S LIVING ROOM He slowly walks in, partially in a daze, head turns, slowly, as if trying to identify something unseen that he is 'hearing'….. snaps out of it. SFX --(O.S.) -- Joy's car pulling up into driveway.. He snaps to, and hurries to the service porch, as if he was working the whole time. SFX --(O.S.) -- Front dorr opening briskly…footsteps… JOY (O.S.) I forgot something MICHAEL (under his breath) Ding-bat. Michael stands up ..rounds the corner of the doorway, only to see the back of a neatly dressed Joy, exiting the front door……He goes into a light daze…snaps out of it…gathers his tools…leaves. GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 02 Aug 11 - 03:16 PM Jake was in it up to his neck now. In a dirty Brownsville jail busted by the Border patrol for smuggling counterfeit Mexican generic Prozac (Prozacito) into the country. He knew the charges wouldn't stick. It was a trumped up charge in a hypothetical situation and the evidence was placebo. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 02 Aug 11 - 03:06 PM Ha! ;-D I like it! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 02 Aug 11 - 03:01 PM Batman and Robin were lying in bed together smoking a cigarette. They hadn't done anything sexual. They didn't swing that way. Not that there is anything wrong with that. They had only been cuddling. A ring tone rang out. "Bat out of Hell." What else? "Holy technological upgrade Batman! Is that the Bat Phone?" Robin inquired. "No just my iPhone." "But you glued little black wings on it like you did with your dildos. Right?" "Robin! Have you been looking in my drawers?" Robin winked and said "Nice drawers they are too." "You need to get your own place." Tired of the ringing, Batman turns his attention to the phone. "Its the Batman here. State your business." he rumbles. "Stay calm commissioner." "Who did you say has come to Gotham to spread mayhem and 18 year old amateur screenplays?" "The most diabolical foe of them all, known for excessive and constant questionable use of exclamation marks?" "The Punctuator!!!!" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 02 Aug 11 - 01:24 PM Gestalt the Rapist, was your typical serial psychopath, lurking in the long ominous shadows, of the Great Omni wading through the Freudian muck of lesser people's minds biding his time, letting out the psychological rope. There would be some self inflicted hangings soon. Jogging in the Jungian dreamscape, armed with nothing but devious thoughts and a gallon ziploc freezer bag full of counterfeit Mexican Prozac. He was lurking. He was ready. He was biding his time. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: autolycus Date: 02 Aug 11 - 12:36 PM Speaking as a Gestalt therapist,........ |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 02 Aug 11 - 12:27 PM It says a great deal more about you than that, Jack! ;-) But I shall maintain a discreet silence about it. The revelations could be quite disturbing... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 02 Aug 11 - 11:30 AM Empty auditorium?? Sexual references and innuendos?? Psychotherapy??... Boy! Wait till scene two!! GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Amos Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:57 PM In a dark alley in the shadows of the fluorescent bar signs along the avenue, Omni N., as we will call him, lurked, waiting. His dark raincoat was blown around his long, knobby legs by a cold wind off the river, and scraps of old newspaper and abandoned hypodermics rattled in the grimed edges of his awareness. A porkpie hat sat tight on his over-sized head, shadowing his all-seeing, all-knowning beady eyes. He had been waiting in the dank, chilled shadows of the alley for hours, knowing what was coming and prepared to wait patiently for it. He glanced at his watch, a thin Swiss brand on a leather strap that was sweatstained and sun-darkened. 1:30 AM. Ah, well. The night was young. Sooner or later, he knew, Jack would show up, no matter what had to happen to make it occur. It was unavoidable; this much, he knew with absolute certainty... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:35 PM I'm pretty sure that all it says about me is that I watch a lot of movies and I like to make silly things up. Oops, gotta go Omniscient Narrator is calling. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:30 PM I agree, Little Hawk, that the forum as a whole is a bit like psychotherapy, but the other threads give a more restricted field, as they specify a topic. However the 'free association' of writing any 'bad' fiction gives unlimited scope, and people really let it all out! (I occasionally did this with my pupils, let them write just anything, a paragraph or so. Take away the constrictions and you get a glimpse of the person inside the head. Quite fascinating! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:24 PM Yes, I think so, Eliza. You could say that about this whole forum. It's like a giant (but very disorganized) exercise in psychotherapy. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:22 PM It's interesting to see the sort of things each person chooses to write on this thread. 'Bad fiction' seems to have resulted in a psychotherapy analysis session, with each person letting rip with their inner self. My own (feeble) contributions seem to have been drawn from some PG Wodehouse-type personality. Do you think each contribution tells us a bit about the inner personalities of the posters? Or am I reading too much into this? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:45 PM By the way...how come you have this much time to BS on Mudcat? You unemployed or something? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:44 PM You're absolutely right. (sigh) I should have done it in the first post. Too late now. This train wreck has taken on a life of its own. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:35 PM I think you should have been specific and given guidelines. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:33 PM "I think that overuse of sexual metaphors is bad writing." Oh, I see. ;-) Okay! I get your point and I now understand why you are doing what you're doing. I also see that I should have worded the title of this thread a bit differently. ;-) I had not meant to provoke bad writing along the particular lines you seem to be pursuing. It just didn't occur to me that anyone would go along those lines. I had something rather different in mind. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:28 PM BTW that was a rebirth metaphor. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:21 PM truly bad fiction starts with a dick son. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:19 PM Just the opposite. I think that overuse of sexual metaphors is bad writing. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 04:17 PM Why all the sexual innuendo, Jack? Not getting enough lately? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:51 PM Jake say alone at the counter of the Tim Horton's, sippin on an Ice Cap, wallowing in self pity. He was ashamed of all he had said and done. George wasn't such a bad guy. He hadn't deserved all that. The thought of the pictures of what Belize and the monkey had done to that man still sent shivers down Jake's spine. Once more Jake stared up into the valley, triangle shaped, heavily wooded, framed by the convergence of mountains, locally called "The Mother's Legs" which, so lithe, strong and shapely, must have been held in place by the boundless stirrups of nature herself. The sun was crowning in the crack between the mounds. The water had broken. The flood had receded. Weary, chastened, yet relieved and more sexually alive and self aware, Jake Tillington witnessed the birth of a new day. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:33 PM Well I kept asking.....I figured YOU'D be the one to ask. The 'other guy' rarely makes sense....except to 'other guys' who don't make sense! If this is going to be a hodge podge, that's OK with me....BTW, the other one is a mind blower, as it unfolds. I've gotten about half way through the scene two, on this computer....I don't need to post it....or(?) GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:29 PM Ennis: "I jest cain't get over you Pennis." Pennis: "I jest cain't get over you." Ennis: "That's why we keep comin on back to Brokeback Nipples." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:22 PM Pegasus, being freed from his pen by Belize (who was now in Greece), flew gracefully into the evening sky, bound for Janie's Nipples to rescue the sheep from the shepherds, who, having been trapped with them for so long, were starting to yearn for the ewes and, in a few cases, each other as well. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:16 PM Mulroney isn't allowed in the bar either. Or Mr. Ed. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:11 PM You think Kerry had a long chin? Ha! Remember Brian Mulroney? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:07 PM That was the strangest rejection letter he had ever received. Was the not-editor drowning in an ocean of coffee flavored self pity? "I'll have a double shot of ennui on the rocks with a chaser of defeatism." he said as he walked into the bar. "No long faces in here Mr. Kerry." said the barkeep. "If you don't let me cut off your chin, you will have to leave. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 01:47 PM I don't know, GfS. It depends on what you really want to do with your time today, I guess. I think you're akin to a musician playing to an almost empty arena here. You look about and there are five, maybe six people scattered about in the stands. One is asleep. Another pair are talking loudly and laughing. Another is yelling "WHOOOO!" every now and then and swigging his beer, but he doesn't really know why. And Jack is over in the corner spraying "cock and balls" on the walls with his spray can. You have to ask yourself whether merely practicing your craft is justification enough for carrying on with the gig regardless of the largely oblivious public, just to hone your skills. It's your call. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 01:22 PM "Let's" as in "let us" write as in we are all writing a story together. Anything you include here is part of the story. If you agree to become part of the story, you contribute to the story. Separate works, being separate, are not part of the story. Following your caveats, I have not read your "shooting script." I doubt that anyone participating in the "truly bad piece of fiction will." Said Chongo, the Chimp to Saney The Screenwriter. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 01 Aug 11 - 12:54 PM 100... Hey Hawk, should I go on to scene two? GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 12:52 PM I remember it well. It was back in the days of the cold war and Commie infiltrators like Ayn Rand, Allen Ginsberg and Chongo the Chimp were poisoning the minds of our youth. We had to fight back but how? Shooting them would make them martyrs and there was only so much that the heroes of flag waving literature could do. Thank god for loyal Americans like Paul Verhoeven! The NSA (National Story Agency) was commissioned to construct a meme which would be a fail safe against all dangerous literature leading to total destruction of the work it is deployed against and a certain degree of "mind rot" in the authors. Unfortunatly, once an author is infected, his or her works are often tainted for many years thereafter. The meme is deployed automatically against Canadians trying to inflict free healthcare upon the US public. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 01 Aug 11 - 12:51 PM Well, I found it interesting. We could use a cleansing like that at present. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 01 Aug 11 - 12:39 PM JtS: "Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction." What's the matter with you? If a story is true, wouldn't it be 'bad fiction'?..or..I didn't think you'd be asking for 'inspiration'. Actually, I don't know what you mean.....(Was it too 'good'?) GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Amos Date: 01 Aug 11 - 12:30 PM "Can we find a cure, b efore its too late?", Sandy asked tearfully. "I don't know," Ernesto told her. "It's a fast multiplier, and no immune systems yet found have any resistance to it." "Oh, my god! My god!! What have we done???!!!" "What do you mean exactly, ma'am?" "Oh, no!! I can't tell you. We never should have...oh, gosh...I can't...NEver mind. We HAVE to find a cure...we HAVE TO!" She grabbed his lapels and shook his natty blue pinstripe suit jacket, disturbing his color-coordinated tie. "Settle down, ma'am. Looks like you know more than you're telling me. Why doncha sit back, have a stiff drink, and spill the beans," Ernesto said, smiling with his pearly teeth, but not with his steely gray eyes. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 01 Aug 11 - 11:45 AM This story is so bad it's like an aggressive virus for which no cure has been developed. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 10:49 AM Meanwhile, Jake's nipples were red and throbbing, hot and nasty after having received the attention of two of Chicago's finest. 'Finest what' you may ask? You may ask, but don't expect a coherent answer. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 10:46 AM As the flood rose and the ground heaved, tongues of water lapped at the tips of Janie's Nipples, a geological formation in power county Idaho, USA not to be in any way conflated, by inuendo, or otherwise with any body parts of anyone involved with the writing of this story. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 10:33 AM GfS, Please parse the following sentence and rephrase it in your own words. "Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction." Please do not post the answer here. This exercise is for your own edification only. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 01 Aug 11 - 10:32 AM Out at the Department of Agriculture's Sheep Experimental Station, the water was rising. In a panic, the shepherds drove their flocks to the highest ground they could find in that flat desert-like land and soon Janie's Nipples* were white with wool. *These are real, honest-to-God, hills in the USDASES. I'm not making this up. See a good topo map if you disbelieve, sinner and a heretic. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 10:30 AM |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 01 Aug 11 - 09:26 AM Congo's iPhone rings the ring tone is "Its raining men." He fumbles with it and tries to answer it but Ape fingers ain't built for touch screens. A single 38 caliber slug silences the phone. Brriinnng rinng...Brriinnng rinng...Brriinnng rinng... "Chongo." "Hold on! Hold on, calm down Madam." "You say you are not a woman. Could have fooled me." In fact the high pitched shrieks of the voice on the other end of his classic black 1930's desk phone with earpiece on a string and mouthpiece on the base had fooled Chongo. "You say that you are Jake Tillington. You are in the boardroom. You have been there the whole time. You just talked to your sister on the phone. The case is solved." "What about the 30 grand?" "Yes I do think I deserve it." "No I do not think that I am a dirty money grubbing gumshoe." "I will not do that to myself, even though for a chimp it is anatomically possible." "I'm gonna find your sister and get my moolah!" "No I don't know where "Gentleman" George is." "No I will not send two of Chicago's finest up to the boardroom to tide you over. Not that there is anything wrong with that." "Good Day sir, or madam, whatever you are. Good day!" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:39 AM For all those who are not familiar with a 'shooting script'. A shooting script is the one the Director uses, while filming. There is little description in it(as Directors like to do that). To fully get the picture, your mind is the camera...what you read, is what takes place. It is YOUR imagination(or the Director's) that fills in anymore. Terms: SFX...Sound effects SPFX..Special effects Wider View...Camera backs away, revealing a wider shot of scene. POV...Point of View...As if the camera is your eyes. Titles..Words or super-imposed over the scene or on screen EXT...Exterior, where shot is filmed to take place (Outside) INT...Interior where shot is filmed to take place (Inside) O.S...Off screen, usually a voice, but character is NOT in scene. I think I got most of the ones used in this scene. Any questions?..just post them. Musical score, and soundtrack was also composed by yours truly! GfS Legend: |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:22 AM SCENE #1 MICHAEL'S HOUSE -- NIGHT House in wooded area, Santa Monica Mountain's. (Topanga Canyon) TITLES: "35 Years Ago" Though window, gathering of late teens, early twenties, sitting, smoking, laughing, passing pipe, and tossing an occasional beer. About 200 miscellaneous types of candles flickering on shelves, and various furniture etc. Stereo in the background. SFX --MUSIC: Rises in volume on opening of scene. "BRING OUT THE ROSES" MICHAEL Michael, early 20's. beard, accompanying the music with a guitar. VOICE Hey Mike, toss me a beer……damn !..got my Zig-Zags wet, anybody got any papers? WIDER VIEW He reaches over, grabs a beer, tosses it across the room. He resumes playing. SPFX --- Suddenly an ultra bright light blasts through the windows. Curtains blowing wildly. (As if a police helicopter has its spot lights on the house and flying low). Michael flings off the guitar, bolts up, and begins shooing people out of the house. MICHAEL Quick!! Everybody out!! It's a bust! Guest scatter. Light through window ceases as room clears. Complete silence. Michael runs to the door, looks both ways for safety, bolts out. EXT. BACK OF MICHAEL'S HOUSE He scrambles up and over a retaining wall. Keeping low to the ground, he runs up the hill, through the bushes. MICHAEL IN WOODED AREA AND BRUSH SFX --Distant sounds. Pursuing dogs and panting and barking, sirens shouted orders, crunching of twigs and footsteps through the brush. Michael ducks under the brush, and rests behind a large rock. AD LIB. SPFX -- Ultra bright shaft of light comes near him. He evades the illumination. Light moves away. SFX -- Background ambience of chaos increases….as if it getting nearer. MICHAEL (Horrified and nervous) Hell has finally arrived! Shit! SFX -- Gun Shots, machine gun fire, major police action. MICHAEL God! They're actually shooting at each other. We've gone too far!! Michael rises to see what he can Expression reflects horror, shock and disbelief. He ducks for cover ..looks up …ducks again. MICHAEL Guess it's too late to go home! He thinks, looks as if he is deciding, the rises up. MICHAEL (Shouting at the top of his lungs) THIS IS BULLSHIT! THOU SHALL NOT KILL…DOESN'T THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO ANYBODY ANYMORE!?? MICHAEL (Whispering to himself) Jeez, they've been trying to do away with that. VOICE (O.S. in distance) Tell 'em , brother! SPFX -- Suddenly the shaft of bright light blasts down on him. Within the circling whirlwind shaft of light everything is illuminated . SFX --Great whirling rushing sound, increasing in volume. SERIES OF SHOTS -- Holographic miniatures, different locations. #1: Kids stealing car parts and rummaging through car; man runs out of house, after them with a shotgun. #2: Man entering house, …partially clad, holding his pants up, trying to exit window. VOICE: I want your wife…..she doesn't love you anymore!! (SFX --Gunshot) #3: Burglars working on a window. #4: Man standing guard on his porch with a rifle; wife in window, holding two children. MAN (Angered) Since the collapse, people just think they can take just about anything they want….and nobody is going to stop them! #5: Policeman running into his house looks at his wife. POLICEMAN I had to see if you were alright WIFE (Shaky frightened) It's gone mad. .all mad. POLICEMAN I'm staying ….I'm guarding you and the house, quick, get my revolver! Michael moves behind the rock, for cover …away from the scene. Slowly rises above the rock to look. Suddenly he rises up and declares. MICHAEL This is ridiculous, everybody's gone nuts! ..I'm tired of running! Either I need help ..or you do! In any event, I'm coming down! SPFX -- Instantly the light extinguishes. SFX -- Ambience returns to that of a normal wooded area at night. Michael walks down the hill in disbelief, looking around, as if to say, 'Where is everything? What happened?' He approaches his house, the door is still open, and the candles still burning. Everyone is gone. Puzzled, curious, he walks down the driveway approx 20 yards, sees a stranger. (PAUL, late thirties, tall, friendly, calm standing alone under a tree. Michael's quickens pace, as he approaches. DRIVEWAY MICHAEL & PAUL MICHAEL Is it over? PAUL (Knowingly) For you it is. Michael hugs him, the draws away, slight distrust and curious. MICHAEL Who are you?? PAUL Your neighbor. That your house? ..with all the candles?? MICHAEL That's funny…I've never seen you. How long have you lived here? PAUL Quite a while. Why don't you come down to my house? …Oh, by the way, my name is Paul. MICHAEL (cautiously) Yeah,….. Okay. INTERIOR --- PAUL'S HOUSE Michael entering into the front door and into the living room. There is no furniture. A woman, early 20's walks into room. WOMAN May I get you some water? MICHAEL No… No thank you…… How come I've never met you two before? He turns, looks at them as he is inquiring. They are silent. MICHAEL Well??? Michael snaps around, rushes to window, looks astonished. SPFX --From out of the window, he is looking at the North American continent, from approximately 200 miles southwest of Southern California, over Pacific Ocean. 150 miles above the earth's surface. In the darkness, he sees 'mosaics' of lights, clustered together in various locations, stretching for hundreds of miles. These are NOT city lights, but lights transposed over the earth's surface. Red's clustered together, yellows, blues, greens. They appear to be at war with each other. They are conscious and madly evil, driven by an aggressive nature. Then small 'bubbles', clear, as if visible radio waves, form and rise up from the land mass. First one, then another, then two more, then four more, then eight, doubling in binary fashion. When they reach an altitude of approx 100 to 130 miles, above the earth's surface, they burst, from them, concentric circles, (as ripples from a pebble tossed in a still pond) spreads out. The swells collide with other 'bubbles', then burst that bubble, which sends out more concentric circles, bursting yet more 'bubbles', till the sky above America looks like boiling water. BACK TO SCENE Michael, speechless, turns to Paul ..opens his mouth to speak… PAUL They're going through a cleansing process. The circles that open the other 'bubbles' is the word of the Law, which will govern the planet from hence forth. Michael's jaw drops open in astonishment. MICHAEL Man! Like this is major earth history! PAUL ( Smiles and says nonchalantly.) It happens periodically, when it needs to. They do that for a while, it settles down, they forget, then it happens again. This isn't the first time. MICHAEL Well, who gives the law?? PAUL It comes from where Life comes from. When they ignore the Law, it causes and 'indignation' within them, because things get so far out of hand. Even though they know better, they choose not to follow it, that in turn creates the heat,…which makes the 'bubbles' Like desparate 'prayers'. MICHAEL Are there many of 'you guys' around? PAUL Well, actually there's quite a few, where ever we can find them…. Perhaps tonight, we found one more. Direct eye contact between the two of them. Paul smiles at Michael, as Michael turns to look out the window. Everything has returned to normal. Michael, dumbfounded, suspicious, and curious, steps to the door….. Opens it. MICHAEL Maybe I should head home PAUL Feel free. MICHAEL (unsure) Yeah…yeah, I think I'll do that… Good night. Thank you. I gotta' get . WOMAN Good-bye. PAUL Yes, Good-bye, we'll see you later. MICHAEL Yeah ….maybe. See ya'. Michael shuffles out the door. INT. MICHAEL'S HOUSE --EMPTY, QUIET Michael, candles still burning, plops down on couch, and gazes. NEXT MORNING Michael waking, runs his hands through his hair, staggers to the door, takes deep breath of fresh air. EXT. PAULS HOUSE Michael knocks on the door, sees "For Rent" sign, cups hands and and rests his face on them, to look through glass. Nobody there. It is vacant, dusty. He walks to the edge of the porch, in thought, and stares across the canyon. MICHAEL (Exhaling exasperation) JEEZ!!! **************************************** INTRO MUSIC. End of scene one. GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:21 AM The following post is copyrighted (1991). Do Not Enter, unless you agree to only read it for your own enjoyment(I hope). It is the first intro scene. Do not copy or in anyway use without my permission. Other than that....enjoy! GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: autolycus Date: 01 Aug 11 - 05:12 AM No. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Janie Date: 01 Aug 11 - 02:27 AM A small, inflatable raft appeared from seemingly nowhere, floating on what...a torrential river? The ether? a raging sea? The apocalyptic flooding of the Chicago sewers that had been prophecied by the Great Dildoni? (you know, he who is also prophecied to Rise Again) a raging tide of passion? No matter. At least not to the slim maiden, (or depending on the light and one's inclination, the plump matron.) In any event, she is the only and obvious commander of the little craft. To a careless observer, especially to those not concerned with where paragraphs should begin and end, she seems placid, even oblivious to all the turmoil around her as she paddles and sings, slightly off-key, "Row, rho, roe yer boat, gently down the stream...." As she passes any given point, all action briefly ceases, as folks, even the Chimp, stare, dumbfounded, and little cartoon balloons appear over their heads, containing lines like "what the f*ck?" There is one, however, with much more keen powers of observation than the rest. That person, and that person alone, notices the maid (or is it matron? or perhaps it is the raft itself?) is actually gathering up anything or anyone that could or has been labeled "turgid," hauling the same from the waters around into the raft, and dropping all that turgidity into little jewelled boxes with tight clasps. Was that Agatha sitting back in the shadows, watching and pondering? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 31 Jul 11 - 11:35 PM "What kind of a world would we have if apes didn't defile paramours?" Chongo asked himself this as he downed a third shot glass of scotch and regretfully put aside his worn paperback copy of "Thuvia, Maid of Mars". Boy, could that Edgar Rice Burroughs write! You'd practically think he was part chimp with the amazing stories he came up with. Surely he shared some extra genetic coding with the great apes beyond that of most of these sorry humans? However, more prosaic matters were pressing. Such as the rent. And the new case. It involved the mysterious disappearance of one Jake Tillington, a corporate employee who had vanished shortly after a conference meeting discussing marketing strategies for 2012. Chongo wouldn't have been much interested except for the fact that Jake's sister Agatha had turned up at his door and offered him a cool $30,000 to find Jake with a $5,000 advance. That got Chongo's attention right away. Agatha was an odd one. She looked like a cross between Olive Oyl and the traditional skinny spinster librarian with the rimless glasses. She looked, in fact, like she had just tasted a pretty sour pickle. But she was obviously loaded, therefore definitely worth listening to from Chongo's point of view. He had little to go on. Nothing but an email that said, "I will be home late, so if you call, do it after 11 pm. - Jake" Jake had been a bit later than that...three days had gone by with no further word, and Agatha was in panic about it. So, it was time to buckle down, question possible witnesses, follow up on hunches, and oil up the old tommy gun...just in case. You never could tell. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 31 Jul 11 - 10:46 PM "A year from now? A year from now? If anyone is writing on this thread a year from now then Tolstoy will have been replaced in maximus verbatude." The Omniscient narrator opined. "Jack is dead." Said Jake. "His closet remains unexplored while mine is scrumptious!!" He then picked up his iPhone and fingered the display. Hey Paraguay, can you and Uruguay get over to Belize's lair and keep that ape from defiling my paramour? |
