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BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction
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Subject: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 29 Jul 11 - 05:27 PM Are you up for the challenge? Are you ready? Here goes.... Chapter 1: The Flood The extremely wet, fluid water poured in a streaming cataract of tempestuous liquidity, mercilessly and cruelly inundating everything visible as far as the eye could see. Jake Tillington clung grimly to the rail that circumscribed the perimeter of the upper observation deck on his luxury penthouse apartment and reminded himself for the umpteenth time that they had all been warned! Yes, many warnings had been issued by many prophets, pundits, climate-control experts, and janitorial staff as to the inexorable and unavoidable changes that were occuring in the world and which would alter forever more the casual tenor of our times, these times in which we all live and conduct our day to day lives. But who had listened, cocked an ear, given a serious measure of quality time, payed heed, and been receptive to those warnings? Who among us had had the wit, the presence of mind, the maturity, and the sang froid to bear down, bite the bullet, and face the inevitable and inescapable truth? These were the thoughts that passed through Jake's mind, rather like half-empty buses passing through an overcrowded intersection, shouldering aside for a moment the lesser vehicles around them as a giant pachyderm shoulders aside a herd of wildebeest before it is lost in the approaching denoument of darkness and of night. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 29 Jul 11 - 05:43 PM Chapter 2: Chaos and Cataclysm Dolores Sylvester clung to Jake's arm, her mind in a turmoil of angst and terror. "Oh my God!" she cried, "Oh my God Jake! How do we get outta here?" "Stay calm, Princess!" he replied, "I can be strong for both of us!" Her wet silk drss clung tightly to her shapely form. Her scarlet lips pouted as she gripped his arm with her well-manicured talons. Suddenly a gunshot rang out, followed by another. And another. "Someone is shooting!" cried Jake. Dolores screamed. At that moment, Sam emerged form the patio doors behind them. His face wore a strange expression, his eyes rolled wildly. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jul 11 - 05:47 PM Kenya and Brazil tumbling hot and oily into white styrofoam. Hot sweat and machete distilled and refined, one lump then two. Mechanical suction until teats are dry, long gray highway to pasteurization one squirt then two. "Roll up the rim." She screamed. "I'm rollin'! I'm rolling!" he moaned. Turning the paper revealing the sacred script he screamed. "No prize!" "You are the prize." she purred. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" He whimpered. "Oh God! how I love Tim Hortons!" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Will Fly Date: 29 Jul 11 - 05:53 PM While Sam continued to blast away with his gun and his rolling eyes, and Kenya and Brazil fornicated desperately on the balcony, staring down into the murky, dark, swirling depths, Jake discerned something indefinable and intangible struggling against the cataclysmic torrent - indefinite yet vaguely familiar to his jaundiced ken. Screwing up his eyes and peering further, he could dimly discern the outlines of a human form, the passing likeness of a face, a figure in an undulating, flaring, dark-colored dress making tortured, unsteady progress with ungainly, uncoordinated strokes and arm movements towards the edge of the penthouse observation deck. He reached for a light, wooden ladder which, with careful forethought, he had deposited at the side of the deck for just such an emergency. Jake lowered the ladder down to the surface of the water and towards the emergent swimmer. In a frenzy of wild movements, the girl - for it was a she - clung on to the lower rungs of the ladder and then feebly, tortuously, rung by rung, ever upward and towards him, slowly made her way to the rail and, as by a miracle, fell into Jake's arms. "Phoebe! he cried, "dear girl - can it be you?" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 29 Jul 11 - 06:08 PM Chapter 5: Phoebe Pulls It Off "I say chaps!" finally gasped the new arrival. "Rather wet today, what?" "You can say that again!" replied Jake. "Come into the apartment and take your wet things off. Sam, put that pistol down, old son. You've been on the booze again haven't you?" "Say," muttered Dolores, who's this broad, Jake?" "Oh, an old flame, Princess. She's an Olympic swimmer from England." Phoebe meanwhile was disrobing in the drawing room. Her lithe body glistened and her muscles rippled. "What about building a raft, you people? Have it done in a jiffy!" She turned the velvet sofa over and began to construct an ingenious craft. One by one, they all climbed in. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: katlaughing Date: 29 Jul 11 - 07:05 PM Suddenly there was a banging on the door (and it wasn't Kenya and Brazil going at it. It was real banging...er, knocking, real loud knocking. Someone was yelling on the other side, "Open up! Let me in!" (Huffing and puffing came to mind, but I digress.) Sam jumped out of the sofa-cum-raft (it was a futon sofa, so would work well? That Phoebe knows her stuff!) and ran over to the door. Fumbling with the slide bolt, the dead bolt, the chain lock and one or two others, he finally was able to fling it open to reveal... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 29 Jul 11 - 07:21 PM A rude wizard wearing a complete outfit of blue robes dappled with golden stars, Saturns, moons, and other numerous celestial bodies. He was obviously a wizard, and obviously rude because his floppy wizard chapeau was crowned with a a giant glittering phallus inscribed "Honolulu 1958". For a moment he stood peering in at the assembled unfortunates, then tossed a handful of gold glitter into the air, and entered saying "I am the Great Dildoni, Master of the Dark Arts, Seer of Truths, Deviner of Random Probabilities, Estimator of Karmic Inheritances, and Ukelele Professional." From beneath his robe he produced a uke and strummed a D flat. then said "who's in charge here?" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 29 Jul 11 - 07:55 PM "I am," replied Jake smoothly, passing a comb through his dark pompadour with careless abandon, Elvis-style. Jake was an Elvis fanatic. He had collected mint condition copies of every Elvis album ever released on vinyl. They were arranged in historical order on a long series of shelves, each one encased in protective plastic dust cover. Most of them had only been played once on Jake's state-of-the-art turntable, and transferred digitally to compact disk and hard disk for replay. "It was a good thing", thought Jake, "that I had the forethought to seal all those dust covers and prevent slow oxidation from occuring, because those same covers will protect my collection against this flood..." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jul 11 - 07:55 PM Kenya, deep and flavorful, Brazil, dark and robust, pleasuring each other until the simultaneously creamered. "Good to the last drop they exclaimed!" "Knock it off you two. Yer in a public place! Stop doing that in the drive through!" She exclaimed as her heaving breast popped the button of her brown grimy roach stained uniform." "Fer Gawd's sakes Cherryl quit screaming at the customers or I'll fire ye so help me." "Fire me. Fire me? Fire me!!" "Sheat ye can't fore me. H'im de h'only one what knose owe to worth da microwacallit! "H'I sheer cain fore ye! I can get me knephew h'i from da turd grade ta read da manual." "No ya can't! I burnered da manual." "I gotcha dere fer sure I do! He can look it up on da Googles." "What are you talking about Googles? dis is 1978 da Googles ain't been invented yet!" "Yeah well he will use a time warp!" "Yer a time warp!" "Kiss me you fool!" "MFFGERFFPPnt" "What was that?" "I said "Me farts a lot cause I'm pregnant." "No I mean the smell." " "Hey are you peeing on me?" "Do you like it?" "No." "Then no. I am not." "Yes then, I am peeing." "Why for God's sake." "Do you like it?" "No! For God's sake.!" "Then it must be because my feet are wet." They both look down to see the water rapidly rising. Styrofoam cups float by. Cockroaches make origami sailboats out of paper cups and paddle them away using coffee stirring as oars. "What is all this? An halucination by the Author." A booming disembodied booms out the following colloquial sentence. "Shut the fuck up you two! Get back to the story!" "What was that?" A booming disembodied booms out the following colloquial sentence. "It was me." "Who are you?" "I am the omniscient narrator." "The hell you are!" "I am the omniscient narrator." "Yeah If you are so omniscient, what am I going to say next." "Lucky guess." "Lucky guess!" "No it wasn't I am the omniscient narrator." "No it wasn't I am the omniscient narrator." "Do not mock me! Or else!" "Do not mock me! Or else?" "I am warning you! Do not mock me! Or else!" "I am warning you! Do not mock me! Or else!!!!" "I am warning you! Do not mock me! Or else! I will cut your character out of the story." "I am warning you.... Suddenly the character not involved in the dialog with the omniscient narrator realized that she had been working alone the whole time and the previous scene had not happened. She thought of some character on Dallas, a show she had never watched dreaming a whole season. A whole fucking season over some contract dispute. "Why does the road look like a river she wondered?" Sam floated up to the drive through window on a sofa. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 29 Jul 11 - 08:02 PM Jack? There is something seriously wrong with you. You're deranged. Your "literary" style matches the rest of us like bright day-glo pink and lime green polka dots would match a discreet plaid pattern on a beige background. You're clearly mentally fucked beyond redemption. ;-) If I were chief editor of this unfolding drama, I'd edit you out of it. Permanently. Alas, I am not. (the above is not text in our story) (Please carry on, people.) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jul 11 - 08:04 PM There are typos in the above. But aren't unedited typos a necessary part of truly rotten prose? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 29 Jul 11 - 08:08 PM It wasn't the typos that concerned me. It was your way of expressing yourself. Your style of telling a story. But what the heck? That's life. ;-) We just seem to be on a very different wavelength much of the time, you and I. I have a hard time relating to your sense of humour, and I suspect you have a hard time relating to mine. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jul 11 - 08:16 PM 'Who is this character "Jack?"' asked the Omniscient Narrator and what the fuck! is he doing in my fucking story? Story! Story? Why don't I know that already? Am I nothing but a limited first person? I could at least switch to third person to give myself a patina of authority. And he did. "What will is be Sam? The usual? Double double?" She asked? "Yeah. Double double." Kenya and Brazil tumbling hot and oily into white styrofoam. Hot sweat and machete distilled and refined, one lump then two. Mechanical suction until teats are dry, long gray highway to pasteurization one squirt then two. "Tim Horton's coffee is so sexy." She cooed. "Yep." Said Sam." "Are you going to roll the rim Sammy?" "I think I'll wait. Delayed gratification is the best." "You can roll up my rim any time Sammy." "I like your rim just the way it is." "Yeah, it is better this way." "That's what SHE said!" "She was right." "Yes. Yes she was." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jul 11 - 08:19 PM Your style of telling a story. I did say that I had recently seen howl? And that it was horrible? I'm going for horrible. Do you want to settle for bad? I can do bad. But I recently saw Howl. Horrible is my current Mileux. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 29 Jul 11 - 09:04 PM God, what dross! Someone else had better rescue the situation soon, throw Kenya and Brazil down a cosmic wormhole and get this thing back on track. If I was Jake, I'd get Sam to shoot them. ;-) Your writing isn't just bad, Jack...it's horrifying! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 29 Jul 11 - 09:07 PM "Let us go now, you and I" quoth the Rude Wizard "where the night lay prone before us like a patient etherized on the table." "Literally?" replied Jake. "No of course not literally fer chrissakes," said Dildoni. "I am speaking in figurative terms. Somebody had to enter this story and give it some frigging class. EE frigging Cummings anyone? No? I thought not." "Now look Bilbo.." "Dildoni," "Dildoni. We are in a bit of a pickle here. Obviously, our comfortable way of life is crumbling around us. And here you are with platitudes." "What do you expect. I have a frigging English degree. Do You know what that makes you fit for? I didn't think so. Substitiute teaching or Wizardry. I chose the latter. And believe you me there's only one frigging way out of this mess." "We're listening." "Escaping to a parallel universe." "Jesus. What's that like?" "It's sort of like a trip to Bosnia. Do you speak Bosnian?" "Of course not." "There you go again. that was supposed to be a joke. You are way too frigging literal." "But are you serious about the parallel universe deal?" "Yes. Literally. Everybody get back in the raft, including the rabid fornicators. This is going to take some true wizardy. But first, my ukelele version of Led Zeppelin's No Quarter." The wizard proceeded to play this as the troubled folks climbed into the raft. "What the ..." said Kenya, and Jake replied "you got a better plan?" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: gnu Date: 29 Jul 11 - 10:31 PM Soooo... Dildoni is in a pickle... now, THAT is a truly bad piece of porn fiction. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 29 Jul 11 - 10:37 PM you aint seen nothin yet |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 29 Jul 11 - 10:37 PM ee couldn't make it. i'm archie i'm a cockroach, i just rowed in on a paper cup origami boat using stir sticks for paddles. it was dark. it was stormy. i was rowing. deal with it. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 29 Jul 11 - 10:42 PM "Yes," said Kenya. "What is it?" asked Jack. "It's better than this," said Kenya. She attached a multirandomized ficton generator to the sofa/futon/raft. Then she removed it, inserted half a dozen AAAA-size batteries, and reattached it. It vibrated, buzzing merrily. She turned it off and detached it. "Damned pocket dildoes," she observed wryly. "They look just like a MFG." And she attached different device, larger, and which used "D" cell batteries. Meanwhile, the waters were still swirling darkly, rising, and the first piranha skeletonized a dead cow which was placidly drifting by. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 29 Jul 11 - 11:12 PM "SHAZBALAAM!" Shouted Dildoni, and a blinding flash shot out of his wand like a burst of blinding wand-rays. As the smoke cleared, he realized he had scorched off his eyebrows again, and his eyes beheld several vibrating balls of fire. Gradually these abated, and he realized he was seated on his ass on the curb of a busy street. Standing up and brushing off his robes, he recognized the street as Zmaj ad Bosne Avenue in the Bascarsija section of Sarajevo. Glancing at his wristwatch he muttered "espresso time" and wandered off toward Stari Grad Square, vaguely recalling a dream he had had regarding several urbanites stranded in a raft. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Amos Date: 30 Jul 11 - 12:19 AM I decided I couldn't stand anymore. I picked up a large glass statue of the Archangel Michael from my coffee table and hurled it through the 50-inch screen of my HD TV, swearing I would never watch Midnight Movie Cable again as long as I lived. It was very effective. A screech and an explosion of glass shards, and I had heard the last of Dildoni, Kenya and the irredeemable ragamuffin characters who slopped around with them. I walked into the kitchen in my bare feet and threw back another shot of Jack Daniels, thinking I might be able to sleep now. But I knew, deep inside, that the pictures weould come back. Not the glitzy moronic tales from the television; the pictures of her. Of Glenda. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 30 Jul 11 - 12:20 AM Then, there in the gutter, he saw the skeletonized body of a dead cow, skeletonized as only piranhas could skeletonize a dead cow, and he realized it wasn't a dream. Then the wall of water hit him and he sank into its turgid depths, fighting for the surface, for air, precious air. His wand, heretofore his saving tool, sputtered and went out when he tried to cast sparks or anything else to save his life. The the swirling water hit him in the head with a grand piano and he sank into the soft and silent depths, where he found peace even though his skull was crushed like a rotten watermelon caught between two freight trains colliding as over 160 kilometers per hours. His penultimate thought was "Splat?" and then he knew no more. His last thought, his last thought ever, was thankfulness that his eyebrows were no longer ablaze and that except for his damaged head he would make a lovely corpse should his body ever be found. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 30 Jul 11 - 12:36 AM With a sudden startled movement, he sat straight up in bed, grasping his crushed melon with both his hands. For a second it still seemed real, the flood, the skeletonized cow, his crushed head. But as his fists slowly released their trembling grip on his prefrontal lobes, he heard her. She was making breakfast, and he could already tell bacon was involved. On the night stand, a nearly empty bottle of Four Roses Bourbon and two glasses stood as if an admonishment. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared into the hotel bedroom mirror. On its surface, someone had drawn a crude wizard figure. "Crude.." he mumbled. "Rude!" he said "The Rude Wizard!" He leapt from the bed, grabbed his robe on, and practically ran into the kitchen. "Magda," he said,"honey I dreamed about the Rude Wizard again!" She turned, licking a drop of butter off of the tip of a long brown finger. God, her eyes were green like spring aspen leaves, and her long black hair ...did she wake up and look like this naturally? She had obviously just showered. She had a bath towel wrapped around her and he could smell the scented soap on her skin from across the kitchen. She smiled, looked back down at the eggs she was preparing, and said "Dildoni?" "What?" he responded. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Guest from Sanity Date: 30 Jul 11 - 12:38 AM Let me get caught up on this...I'll try a couple of cents worth...until then, maybe 'Don Figment' will jump in...he's GREAT at fiction!! Wink... GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST Date: 30 Jul 11 - 12:40 AM OOOPS, I forgot my 'cut and paste'................. Little Hawk: "Jack? There is something seriously wrong with you. You're deranged. Your "literary" style matches the rest of us like bright day-glo pink and lime green polka dots would match a discreet plaid pattern on a beige background. You're clearly mentally fucked beyond redemption. ;-)" Let me get caught up on this...I'll try a couple of cents worth...until then, maybe 'Don Figment' will jump in...he's GREAT at fiction!! Wink... GfS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 30 Jul 11 - 01:30 AM Aha! Things are picking up. Will they discover if there is balm in Gilead? Or will they not? Tune in tomorrow for the next riveting installment of "Jake Tillington Meets the Rude Wizard and Invents Jellobabies"!!!!!!! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: JohnInKansas Date: 30 Jul 11 - 02:47 AM Jake's mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping his sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories. [shamelessly plagiarized from the 2011 winner of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest - just to add a little class here, and setting up for a new change in direction if someone desires to do so.] John |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 30 Jul 11 - 03:04 AM Dismissing Magda, Glenda, Phoebe, Dolores, Kenya, Brazil, Sam, the skeletonised cow and the desperately-rowing cockroach from his wind-turbine dismembered mind, Jake strode purposefully towards the town square, Dildoni at his side. Their mission was clear. Find Ali-bin-Risotto, the Italian-born Arab, and eliminate him. Then discover the whereabouts of his cronies, the fearsome Bosnian Plumbers' Gang. Dildoni quietly drew his throbbing wand from his pocket and they melted into the shadows... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Ebbie Date: 30 Jul 11 - 03:34 AM sob I just now discovered upon returning from a night of music making that I had not posted my deathless contribution to the travails of the water borne protagonists. I cannot let it go to waste so consider this a a prologue or a prequel or a sidebar; to my mind those lovely people are still out there fighting for their lives or at least for their story. Insert wherever: "The sofa moved elegantly enough as it lumbered down the stream, a stream that was more like a waterfall than a cataract. Jake held the vessel upright as best he could but from time to time and inevitably the side slipped downward and the occupants were drenched again, wet to a degree that could not have been forecast. Finally, and with finality, only four were left in the sofa boat; the rude wizard was clinging with one hand to one leg but his face was untroubled." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 30 Jul 11 - 08:57 AM Standing there, waiting in the shadows like shadows of shadows, unseen and unmoving except for the wizard's throbbing, turgid wand, they were surprised when the tsunami crashed onto their heads, shorting out the wand with a wall of water and bringing the building in the shadow of which they had been waiting down upon them them, burying them under tons of concrete and steel and flattening their corpulent corpses like they were water balloons filled with blood dropped from top of the Eiffel Tower upon the crowds below. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 09:07 AM A bedroom in Southern California, there is pink sky over the ocean from the sunrise AMOS rubs his eyes. AMOS Who is that sitting on the foot of my water bed? LEO (Jauntily) The seventies called. It wants its water bed back. AMOS (demurely) Leo? Leonardo DeCrappio? LEO Yes it is I, Leonardo DeCrappio star of such movies as Perception and Gangs of New Jersey! AMOS picks up a TIM HORTONS COFFEE MUG, blissfully drinks some, turns it so that the label is clearly visible. AMOS So this is a dream? Brazil and Kenya don't exist and I busted my TV for nothing? LEO Brazil and Kenya exist all right. But the are only Coffee Beans. AMOS But Brazil is so robust and Kenya so rich and dark. LEO Exactly! AMOS But the hot sweat and machete distilled and refined, one lump then two. LEO Sugar. and before you ask, the other bit was just milk. You know, Double double. Its a Ginsberg thing." AMOS But there is nothing about cocks and balls. LEO OK, Ginsberg lite. This is a Disney Film after all. Didn't you wonder why you were being played by Justin Beiber? AMOS Don't you mean JUST IN BEAVER? I am the notoriously heterosexual porn star. You should have read the opening credits more carefully. Its Dicksmeat Studio and that castle is a collection of dildoes. LEO I was wondering why Tinkerbell wore chap and her wand was a whip. AMOS "Tinkerbell is copyright of Disney. You were looking at Ring Her Belle." LEO Now that's just goofy! AMOS You are violating copyright again. In this movie you have to say gorshy. LEO That's just stupid. AMOS That's Hollywood. LEO Don't I know it. LEO awakes on the beach by a vast ruined cityscape on a lonely shore which could only exist in the dreams of one suffering from years of CGI addiction. All of the buildings have an odd texture, red and white almost pinkish. He looks out to see. Now the ocean is coffee with wisps of latte foam where the white would be on the breakers. LEO If piranhas are bad what is worse? AGENT SMITH Me. Agent Smith clones him self into a billion copies. There are so many that they are piled up around the edges of the scenes. You can still see the shapes of the buildings in the distance, but like an old southern mansion covered in kudzu, the buildings have a patina of Smith. LEO (Yawns and sighs) No. Not you. There is a long and involved boring fight scene. Boring because, having seen Agent Smith in several previous movies, and knowing LEO is the opted for one we know that LEO will prevail. The only thing keeping us from switching of the BlueRay and going out and interacting with some real people right then and there is a few clever effects sequences and the fact that we would have to shave and put on pants. AGENT SMITH You have won. LEO What else is new? AGENT SMITH Before I die there is one thing I must know. LEO As long as there are cheezy immature directors With too much time and money and too few original ideas you can never die. AGENT SMITH Shut up kid. I haven't had a decent special effects since LOTR. Let me have my moment. LEO OK AGENT SMITH What is worse than piranhas? LEO Piranhas on caffeine. They look down the beach and see white gleaming cow bones. Behind that they see white gleaming sea cow bones. Behind that, the bones of a blue whale, the largest animal never to roam the land. Behind that, hundreds of feet high, the bones of what must have been the entire population of the Tokyo metropolitan area. Godzilla pokes her head around that pile, burps, covers her mouth and giggles. LEO I have had enough of this. He covers himself in Old Bay seasoning and swims out into the ocean of Piranha infested coffee to meet his fate. Push back to the beach, Push in to one of the ruined buildings on the shore. The only building material was coffee mugs. Perfect, steaming Tim Hortons coffee mugs with the label clearly displayed. Reality. Brewed fresh, every 20 minutes. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 30 Jul 11 - 09:23 AM As the dust settled and the water gradually subsided, Ali-bin-Risotto and six of his Bosnian Plumbers joyfully regarded the mangled corpses of Jake and Dildoni, and toasted their success in non-alcoholic beer. "Now," gloated Ali, rubbing his hands in undisguised glee, "Now, my friends, Phase Two of our foolproof plan begins." Brandishing flight tickets and false passports, they hurried off to their boat, and guided it skilfully towards the airport. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 09:24 AM "The sofa moved elegantly enough as it lumbered down the stream, a stream that was more like a waterfall than a cataract. Jake held the vessel upright as best he could but from time to time and inevitably the side slipped downward and the occupants were drenched again, wet to a degree that could not have been forecast. Finally, and with finality, only four were left in the sofa boat; the rude wizard was clinging with one hand to one leg but his face was untroubled." The look of relaxation on the wizard's face could only mean one thing. He was relieving himself in the water. The only question was "How would the caffeine infested piranhas react?" The answer came soon enough. Having been exposed in the dangerous water, his participle was no longer dangling. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 09:39 AM And what of Glenda? Cock and Balls Yes Balls and cock Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes! Machete and mangoes Maybe baton and globes Of course Banana and oranges Why not? Is that Glenda? Now, yes Was that Glen? Not any more In the pickle jar Kosher Dill and cauliflowers No Cock and balls? Yes Glenda used to be Glen. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: katlaughing Date: 30 Jul 11 - 10:18 AM (Just a gentle aside: to each his own character(s). it's always good to try to keep the continuity without usurping someone else's character(s).*bg*) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 30 Jul 11 - 11:23 AM Jack, when it comes to prose, you possess the subtlely and good taste of a drunken Australian Brahma Bull careening obscenely around a china shop, scattering spittle, urine, and dung in its wake as it goes. None, that is. ;-) You are an embarrassment to the entire civilized world, rather like a snot-nosed downtown urchin, a rap star wannabee who insists on spraying "cock and balls" on the walls of all the municipal buildings with a red paint spray can, thinking it is hilariously funny each time he does so. He is amused, but no one else is. ******** Could this be the end for Jake Tillington? Surely not! After 17 bestselling volumes of Jake's incredible adventures his public would not stand for the author(s) bringing an abrupt end to Jake's storied existence. No, it was not the end for Jake Tillington. "Rumours of my demise," he said brightly, "are as exagerrated as Cher's last touring outfit and as unlikely as Lady Gaga's next stage presentation. In short, I am undaunted and firing on all cylinders. Now, let's see...where did I put my tourist's guidebook to cataracts, inundations, and unexpected plot twists?" (reaching into his L.L.Bean backpack) "Ah, here it is! Capital!" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: GUEST,Eliza Date: 30 Jul 11 - 11:25 AM But, unnoticed under the rubble, a turgid, throbbing wand stirred... small sparks flew from the pointed end. Tiny pieces of flesh moved towards eachother. An eye slipped back into a socket. A hand attached itself to an arm. After several minutes, Dildoni and Jake Tillington once again stood blinking in the sunlight of Bosnia. In Dildoni's hand was a bag of jellybabies and his faithful ukulele. "Onward and upward!" pronounced Dildoni, seizing Jake's hand. They flew into the air and headed for the airport together. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 30 Jul 11 - 11:29 AM Off in the distance a shot was heard and another drunk by another drunk. Then another and another, until an entire fusillade had punctured the drunk like a hot ice pick through melted butter. "Ah," said the Mysterious Stranger as she blew the gunsmoke from the muzzles of her twin customized ivory-handled M1911A1 .45 caliber semiautomatic pistols, "that finishes The Man Who Corrupted Hadleyburg. Mark well that I shot him in twain." And she moseyed off into the yellow-grey fog that sat like a cat on Baker Street and swallowed the feeble attempts of the gaslights to dispel the gloom of the early London evening and muffled the clip-clop of the horses' hooves as the pulled ennui-soaked rakes and soiled doves in hansom cabs to unknown and unspeakable dissipations. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: olddude Date: 30 Jul 11 - 11:34 AM One word "Rap" His version of Moby's Dick is still a classic to Spaw. I bet he can rewrite some other great works for us |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Little Hawk Date: 30 Jul 11 - 11:40 AM I haven't read Spaw's "Moby Dick". Dare I hope that it isn't about a gigantic seaborne phallus? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 11:49 AM Amos stares fondly at the picture of Glenda next to the hand lotion on his night stand. The there are crusty Kleenexes everywhere. "Damned cold! I wish I could stop blowing my nose." looking down at the dry weathered lunar landscape that had once been his smooth pink guitar calloused hands he thinks that he needs to moisturize again. He wonders for the millionth time how he could have fallen for Glenda how does one notice one well disguised Adam's apple when all the other parts are perfect. He picks up the picture frame and smashes it on the table. "How could you?" he screams. How could you do this. The image of Glenda starts to talk to him as only it could where the the character's mental illness is obvious and the author's excused as 'art.' "Amos my love, I didn't do it. It was someone else." "But who? How?" "Amos my love. I have been usurped!" "No you have been castrated" "ME too!" Squeaked in the wizard action figure on the shelf between the Teribus the Troll doll and the Rick Fielding bobble head! "Stop being rude Wizard!" Admonished Amos from his position of moral authority. "Hey didn't your voice used to be lower? "That's what I am talking about!" "Ohhhhh Dude! that's cooold! Who would do such a thing?!" "You know who." They all look up. "Yeah, It was me." "Omniscient Narrator!" Amos, Glenda, Wizard, Rick and Teribus exclaim! Why are you all acting so surprised? You invoked me! "Awkward exposition." Amos, Glenda, Wizard, Rick and Teribus say in unison. This section of the story is based upon the works of Kevin Smith. You know, the Auteur behind such classics as "Mall Rats" and "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" "I know who Kevin Smith is. You know I have often wondered, is it clumsy writing or is it something he has to do so that his weed addled audiences can nap through random parts of his films and still have half a clue what is going on." A magazine on the table, "Sing Out or Shut the Fuck Up The Monthly Magazine for Politically Active Songwriters" magically opens to a page featuring a picture of Kevin Smith and the headline. 'This bit is a nod to Woody Allen.' Smith fidgets a little considering. He contemplates whether such a question is worthy of response. His whole body of work flashes before his eyes, seeing some exceptions, but none he has written himself as sighs "Yes." Then Smith looks at Amos and Glenda and the castrated wizards. He gathers himself for one of those long winded lecturing cameos he sometimes does as Silent Bob in his own movies. If fact, he dons the black trench coat grows the required facial hair to become Silent Bob. "Yes Omniscient Narrator has castrated you Glenda and you too little Wiz. And Amos, he's screwed with your love life and displayed total ignorance of your virile and ebullient ultra heterosexual masculinity. And Teribus he's made you into a troll! Obviously the truth of your characters is the polar opposite of the Van Goghian, Daliesque costumes he has made you wear. By the way Rick, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Croce want to jam tonight. Its at Little John Cameron's Pub of Eternal Guiness. Don't look so jealous Amos. You'll get there soon enough. Where was I? Oh yeah, Well the Omniscient Narrator isn't such a bad guy. He's just kidding and he is cloaking it all in dream sequences. So all you have to do is have your characters wake up. Close the page will you? I'm working on a fantasy movie. Its a world where Woody Allen can have a healthy, normal sexual relationship with any living being and where Jerry Seinfeld doesn't complain. I am going to have to eat a lot of mushrooms to envision that reality. Robin Williams is signed on to play Allen and Travolta as Seinfeld. They will take any roles with pay checks after "old dogs." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 12:12 PM A dark stage and the staccato of bongoes. A muted trumpet plays an incoherent Jazz riff. A single spotlight shines on a young man on the stage. Is if Franco? If yes he is wiping espresso foam off his chin. If it is Ginsberg, trust me, you don't want to know. What is that he is saying? "with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al-cohol and cock and endless balls," (Actual quote from Howl Oh how how I hate having to explain my breferences!) I heard the best voices of the Mudcat silenced with endless streams of Bull Shit. I heard the editing of editors who said they would not edit. I saw the complaints about the writing of others when the writing of the others had ceased. I howled! I Howled I howled!! Do you want to write bad fiction or not? Ask not for whom the cursor blinks. It blinks for you. It blinks for you. It blinks for you. It blinks for you. And in closing this poem, this epic, this self-indulgent ode to bad poetry invokes the spirit of the Poet laureate of this hallowed forum our one and only Catspaw VD the only one worthy of the letters VD after his name. (Doctor of Vulgarity) I say in this humble epic poem to you! Shut the fuck up and write your own shit! Shut the fuck up and write your own shit! Shut the fuck up and write your own shit! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Lonesome EJ Date: 30 Jul 11 - 01:50 PM Continuity is overrated anyway |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: WalkaboutsVerse Date: 30 Jul 11 - 02:17 PM "Fancy a Fisherman's Fiend, Jake" boomed Dolores...no answer was the stern reply. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Ebbie Date: 30 Jul 11 - 02:29 PM What a job! I copied and pasted the story onto a document - JtS's contribution amounted to just one line - and it is just barely coherent. I have read snippets of books just about as bad. Incidentally, there are 2,543 words in that document, or I would post the story right here. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Rapparee Date: 30 Jul 11 - 03:00 PM Off in the distance, a glacier calved with a resounding "THUD." "Odd," observed The Mysterious Stranger. "But then, with global warming, the Barents Sea has dried up. Too bad about all the fish." Suddenly out of the night a shot cracked and one leg of the wicket flew off. "Oy!" screamed a voice. "If ya can't bat any better'n that git off the pitch!" |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 04:32 PM Jts's contribution amounted to just one line - and it is just barely coherent. He couldn't help it. God made him that way. Naked, alone, dancing in front of the mirror, singing to the hair bursh. Oh Ga Ga I love you as I sit here alone in the unvisited alternate universe mentioned in a previous chapter. Such a cruel world is literature where a cruel non-editor can non-edit one out of a story at will. What will become of my lonely orphan characters. Oh the ones that were metaphors for coffee are OK. They have new lives in the "other" reality. But what will poor DeCrappio do without a story in which to dwell. Will his literary existence wash up on some surreal DouglasAdamsinain landscape like bones on a beach? (BTW You know that people are dying to know which line.) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: Jack the Sailor Date: 30 Jul 11 - 05:52 PM "What did he say Martha?" "What did who say." "The voice. the unidentified voice coming from the direction of the pitch." "Oh that." "Did you hear it clearly? Do you know what he said?" "Donno Stanley, sounded like 'that bat's voice has a very high pitch." "Well of course it does! It's a bat isn't it" "I suppose it would wouldn't it?" "Yes, Yes, I suppose it would." "They use it to find bugs you know." "Who does?" "The bats." "The bats. The bays use their voices to find bugs." "Are you kidding me?" "No I heard Terry Jones say it on some nature program." "Who is Terry Jones? "The Monty Python Terry Jones." "You heard it from a snake called Terry on a nature show, that bats find bugs with their voices. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!" "It was produced by the BBC." "Ah yes the BBC." "With funding from PBS." "Well that explains it then." "Really?" "Well America is full of those Creationists and they must be paying the BBC to fill our youth with the mistaken notion that bats find bugs with sound. It is obviously a forbidden fruit thing." "Forbidden fruit?" "Yeah a talking snake giving forbidden knowledge to naive people. It happens in America all the time. They call it "Conservative Talk Radio." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Let's write a truly bad piece of fiction From: katlaughing Date: 30 Jul 11 - 05:59 PM Ya think? LeeJ? (I have to admit my earlier thought that this might actually turn out "good" was highly optimistic. LH asked for truly back and he got it!) |
