There once was an old man named Finkle (stein) Who caught his wife taking a tinkle He spun her around and started to pound When she said "It's not in, that's a wrinkle" That's all I've got.
Write an erotic.... Nah, that's been done, and if we're not careful, the mods are going to notice. Write a scene in which a desparately mundane activity, such as checking the mailbox or changing a baby's diaper, is undertaken by an action hero (John McClane, Xander Cage, Lara Croft etc) in his or her typical style. Feel free to invent your own hero.
Alrighty, I'll get typing Shall edit this post and add the result when it's finished! --- Snip! John gritted his teeth. One wrong move and he'd be in a world of pain, but at least it would be a world solely inhabited by him. Lucy wouldn't be around for another hour, and that was for the best. No point putting anyone else at risk, and he didn't need help with this anyway. Snip! It had crossed his mind to call the station for backup, but fuck that. John McClane had been flying solo for a long time now, and it would take deeper shit than this to ruffle his feathers. He'd never have said it aloud--not without a healthy dose of irony--but he had a reputation to uphold. Snip! None of that mattered now though. None of that stopped the bead of sweat tracing its way down the line in his brow. That wouldn't do. With his heart still pounding like there was a rave in his chest, he set the clippers aside for just long enough to pull out a smoke and spark up. Fuck, that felt good. The tobacco added a much more encouraging accent to the trace of smoke that had already begun to permeate the air. Every passing second was critical, but the nicotine was a good investment--it calmed his nerves, and trembling hands would cost far more in the long run. Far more. Snip! Only one more cut to make. One more cut to salvation, but it would all be forfeit if he didn't make it soon. He lined the clippers up, hard eyes focused on his goal and nothing else, lips pursed so tightly they nearly severed his cigarette. 'Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.' Snip! But it was too late. Smoke poured into the room as he bounded into the kitchen to face the conflagration. # 'I am not eating that,' Lucy said. 'You shouldn't either.' 'Yeah, yeah.' John scowled at the charred mess on the tabletop. What had once been his oven still smouldered in the corner of the room. 'I can't even... how did you screw it up that bad? There's clear instructions on the packet. It's shake-n-bake!' 'Lucy, shut the...' John caught himself just in time. Lucy was finally talking to him again, and he wasn't about to ruin that by swearing at her. 'Just drop it. Something else came up. Something important. I'd started it and I was damn well gonna finish it.' Lucy shook her head one last time, then let it go. 'You want Chinese?' John asked. 'We'll get Chinese. I'll order in.' He was just reaching for the phone when Lucy grabbed his wrist, nose wrinkled. 'Why don't we eat out? There might be... um... a better atmosphere at the restaurant.' She had a point. It would probably take weeks for the acrid stench to fade. But why was she still grasping his wrist? What had so transfixed her gaze? 'Say, Dad... where did you get your nails done? That is a really nice manicure!' --- Did I just write fan-fiction?
That was amazing. I don't know exactly what I had in mind when I set the task, but whatever it was, you far exceeded it. Bravo, @Sifunkle!
Thanks guys! @halisme - hmm... what was the first record/cassette/CD/album/whatever you ever bought, and how do you feel about that with the wisdom of hindsight?
Level three by Miracle of Sound. Guy did nerd culture inspired songs. I've not listened to it or any of his other work for some time, mostly because my brain recognised that each of them, while sounding different, was very similar in terms of structure and rhythm. I got bored. So, learning experience I suppose.
What genre or subgenre of literature have you never understood the appeal of? Either in terms of reading it or writing it.
Supernatural Romance/Erotica I don't know why, but using Fantasy/Sci-Fi based creatures (Morph, Anthro, Trans-mutant, Monster, Xeno) and humans is just weird to me. More so when reading it than writing it. But then again to each their own.
I think the strangest thing I've ever read was Feersum Endjinn, by Iain M. Banks. The title means "Fearsome Engine", and the whole thing is written in the same sort of weird-ass phonetics, plus taking place in a starship that is a brobdingnagian house of sorts. Probably one of my least favorite books by my favorite author, to tell the truth. The strangest thing I've ever written was a sort of poem, set down while I was... well, let's not get into the specifics of why, but I was six inches tall, weighed one pound steel, and was in a hotel room with a hallway that was, down to the Planck distance, exactly four light years long. The only line I still remember from it is: The offroad music plays on the dolphin channel forever. Next up?
Dunning-Kruger question: In what non-writing area do you suffer from the most severe doubts as to your skill/ability? For example, I think I'm a pretty damn good driver, but due to living overseas, I only get behind the wheel for a couple weeks every three years, so I suspect that, in reality, I'm just being very cautious and getting lucky during those times. Go.
This is a good one. Probably parenting. I know that I'm a good parent but it's impossible to know how my decisions now will influence my son in the future. Kids don't come with instruction manuals and it's almost a crapshoot. I'm doing the best I can with what I have but I often wonder if that's enough.
Write a short fight scene between two toddlers. Include what started the fight. Interpret the word "fight" however you see fit.
Tommy ripped a toy truck from Jimmy's hands. "Hey I was playin' wiff dat", Jimmy whined. "Yeah, well too bad", Tommy said, pushing the other boy to the floor. "Hey that's not fairw", Jimmy said in an angrier tone. "An' what are you gonna do about it?" Tommy taunted back. Tommy fought the tears in his eyes, and the two small boys began to wrestle over the toy truck. This battle of miniature proportions went on for a few minutes. It was interrupted by a little girl holding a play spatula. Katy was not going to put up with the two boys unwillingness to share the toy. So she smacked each in turn in the face with the small plastic spatula. "If you can't play nice, then go and sit in time out." She said aggressively wielding the play spatula menacingly. Tommy and Jimmy abandoned the toy truck on the low pile carpet, crying softly as they went off to separate corners of the preschool class room. "Boys are silly", Katy said to her friend Gina as she went back to cooking her rubber eggs in a plastic frying pan. "Darn it! They made me over cook 'em."
