Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Authors

I've come up with a fun new idea for a blog post, especially exciting because it involves minimal effort for maximum entertainment, which gives me free time to do things like sleep and come up with exciting, politically charged posts that people will actually look at.
Here goes: I'm going to begin a story like in the game of Authors. Anyone who wants can post a continuation, with the next comments continuing from where the last left off and so on. Please keep it crazy, clean, and succinct, and remember that I have the right to delete any post I don't like, although I plan to use the veto power sparingly.

Johnny was a most average little pencil- skinny, yellow, and just a bit chewed down by the eraser. But Johnny had a dream and that dream gave him the courage to bear the tedium of daily usage and being chewed on; he dreamed that one day he would be able to throw off the shackles of helpless school supply-ism and...

10 comments:

Mike said...

live a glamorous life. He had recently been laid off from his school job when it became mechanized. "A pencil can't get a job these days he muttered." He decided to go out to Hollywood and make a living. He knew he faced challenges such as lack of talent and his being a yellow commie but that did not distract him. He set off with just an eraser which was a bit chewed on on his back. Then...

MiriK said...

(at the risk of sounding just a trifle derivative, which, hello it already does,) he met a young harmonica playing scarecrow, with dreams in his heart and hominy grits on his mind. "hello there my fine yellow friend<" he said, "you look like you could use a song or two to lift your spirits." he got out his harmonica and began to play...

Tobie said...

(I reckon this is enough comments for me to swing back in)
...the tune that we played was so awful and so torturously played that it threw the pencil into spasms of self-doubt, and then into self-loathing, causing him to disavow all previous dream of Hollywood and devote his life to hunting down and killing all people who so offended the human ear...

Mike said...

such as himself. He was preparing to jump off the bridge when he noticed a bank robbery. He had decided he would testify when he was pushed and fell into the water. Fortunately it was a short bridge and he survived to...

Rusi Cohen said...

be accepted into the witness protection program where he was renamed Pen C. Stub. He had himself repainted bright red so that no one would suspect that he used to be yellow. He began working on his magnus opus, Red Submarine, when

Tobie said...

suddenly there was a knock on the door and before he could react, two burly permanent markers slammed into the room, wearing fedora caps and carrying cello cases. Certain that the mob had caught up with him at last, he leapt to his feet, but one marker shoved him back into his seat while the other opened his case and pulled out a cello...

Mike said...

He had been taken in by the notorious Opera Mob and unlike most mobs they wanted him to sing.
He toured the country under the psudenym (spelling?) of Johnny and would bring down the house.

MiriK said...

after which he always had to run to get out alive, what with all the falling debris and whatnot. one night, during his usual nightly escape, a hand siezed him by his point and whispered mysteriously, "come this way please, Mr. Stub..."

Tobie said...

"Stub?" he said. "Who is this Stub of whom you speak? My name, sir, is Johnny-" "Hush, Mr. Stub. I'm from the Feds. We've been told that you have information about a certain attempted bank robbery." "Um, well..." he weighed his options, unsure whether to do his patriotic duty or play it safe and continue to stay on the good side of the brutal Opera Mob, in whose hands his life rested...

Mike said...

In the end he chose enlightened self-interest (he had recently read Fountainhead.) I'll tell you for a million dollars. I also want a new new identity....