View Full Version : Obnoxious Novelist How-to

10-20-2014, 02:41 PM
I was driving. Driving fast in a bright, shiny car in the English country side...
Going to a place...
A place where the story begins...
But hang on to your britches because I'm still driving and I will be for at least three more pages.

While I'm driving I should have some really indulgent internal dialog. Oh! Maybe I can kind of tell you what's happening using my internal dialog. Ok, get ready for two pages of telling and at least a few more of driving then I'll start the story, I swear.

In this internal dialog, I will make nauseating attempts to convey to you, the reader, my profound wisdom. I am a very wise character. A wise character who drives cars really fast for at least two more pages!

We all write stuff like this sometimes. Let's take a moment to laugh at ourselves! Help me build a terrible story using every obnoxious writing habit you can think of.


-Combo score for anyone using terrible YA cliches.
-Triple Combo Score for anyone using terrible writing habits they are desperately trying to kick at this very moment. :D

10-20-2014, 08:42 PM
(I think this could be pretty hilarious if we could not only incorporate bad writing from every genre, but also tell something of a connected story. With that in mind, I'm choosing romance as my genre, and picking it up with the protagonist emerging from the car.)

At last I reached Ladeeda Castle. The sight of its ancient soaring turrets and magnificent battlements made my heart sing with thrilled anticipation, and my eyes fill with tender, happy tears. Home at last. I opened the door of my shiny, red Jaguar, and swung my long, slim, elegant legs onto the curving, smoothly-paved driveway.

"Well, Lady Voluptua Fervor. Fancy seeing you here," growled a deep, sexy voice.

A tall, gorgeous hunk of man with dark wavy hair, black, penetrating eyes, and broad shoulders outlined by his elegantly-tailored Savile Row suit held out his muscular hand to help me out of the car.

I placed my slim, white, perfectly manicured hand in his, and immediately felt a shudder of electricity pierce my slender loins. But I wasn't about to show him how his mere touch made my thighs tremble and my heart beat faster in my voluptuous bosom. I tossed my long, red curls over my soft, ivory shoulder, and lowered my long lashes over my emerald green eyes.

"Well, if it isn't Blake Moneybags, devastatingly handsome wealthy upstart investment banker with a mysterious past who used his ill-gotten gains to purchase the neighboring estate out from under my noble but bankrupt uncle," I purred throatily. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

10-20-2014, 09:39 PM
Suddenly the inescapable scent of a fresh incomparable vegetable tray wafted across my moustache under my nose tickling my irresistible lips and my heart beat even harder threatening to turn me into a double d then I saw that unlikable girl who used to torment but now has to wear sweatpants and a mumu to avoid all of the wrong kind of unavoidable attention and I felt an irresistible urge to walk over and indisguisably insult her because

10-20-2014, 09:52 PM
she was hanging from the shoulder of Lyle Fainting, my old best friend from school who never knew what to say around me. I never understood why he blushed every time he was around me, or sent me valentine cards, or asked me to the prom, or wrote "I LOVE YOU VOLUPTUA" in flaming letters across the snowy front yard that one time we had a blizzard. Sometimes I think he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what.

10-20-2014, 10:00 PM
I'm upset you're all making fun of my sterling prose keyed ever so cleverly by my nimble, shapely fingers.

Whatever happened to respect your fellow hack?

10-20-2014, 10:03 PM
I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't drive a cab.

10-20-2014, 10:06 PM
I raised my delicately penciled eyebrows.

"Lyle, I had no idea you knew Bertha Slops. Quite a little party we have gathered here at Ladeeda Castle." I shook my head as a waiter held out a crudite platter. "And it appears to be catered. What's the occasion?"

Blake eyed me sardonically. "I see the good news hasn't reached you. Bertha and I are engaged to be married, and your dear mama is hosting our engagement party today. Lyle here is our best man."

He still held my trembling hand. With a careless yank of his muscular arm, he jerked me up from the driver's seat, bringing my firm, heaving breasts against his hard chest. He held me there for a moment, his dark eyes piercing mine, until I pulled away with a gasp.

"You...Bertha...congratulations." I murmured, as clouds passed over the brilliant sun that lit the green, sloping lawns of my beloved ancestral home. My full, pouting lips turned up in a conventional smile, but my heart bled. Only now, now that it was too late, I knew that I passionately loved my nemesis as much as I detested him, and I longed for him with every throb of my aching loins.

Lyle shook off Bertha's grasp and stepped toward me eagerly. A lock of his pale blond hair fell into his yearning blue eyes.

"Voluptua. I couldn't wait for you to arrive. You're going to be maid of honor. We'll walk down the aisle together. Isn't that wonderful?" He took my hand in both of his and kissed it passionately.

"Wonderful," I murmured. My eyes drifted over to Blake as Bertha seized his arm possessively. The corner of his sensuous mouth twitched up as he caught my eye.

I vowed, then and there, that I would never let Blake Moneybags see the trembling of my heart and loins, but would forever hide the smoldering heat of my passionate longing behind a triple-encased shield of ice.

10-20-2014, 10:20 PM

It was more than a surprise when Blake slapped himself in the face. Lyle rushed past, pulling me away.

"What just happened?" I asked.

"You see, Blake has tourette's, but it only flares up when you're around. That's why no one wanted to tell you about this. We can't have him punching out the entire wedding party."

10-20-2014, 11:25 PM
I gasped. Could this be the reason Blake had never proposed to me despite his obvious blazing passion? But I would never let something like that come between us. It was all a massive misunderstanding that had kept his burning lips from mine, his strong arms from entwining my trembling body, his manly hands from ripping the delicate lace from my heaving bosom and caressing my voluptuous form, enticing me to shuddering spasms of rapture. For I too had a dark secret I had long hidden from him for fear of driving him away. I had to tell him all before it was too late.

I wrenched away from Lyle and turned back to Blake. But Blake was no longer there. Instead ...

10-21-2014, 12:45 AM
...from out of the Utz Potato Chip Bag hopped a creamy, tan, short-haired Chihuahua wearing an impeccable Brooks Brothers suit and carrying a bottle of Grey Goose.

He unfolded his briefcase, which turned into a very classy bar at the corner of Fifth and North Umberland, and placed the bottle on the counter.

A white van pulled up and pushed three violently moving trash bags out, then raced away.

Within moments, a battery charged lightning bolt in generic knock off sneakers raced around the corner with a machete. Seconds later the bags opened and out popped Cindy, Sandy and Candy, all experienced waitresses, who began taking orders despite the reporters and police who all wanted to know where they had been.

"Ya see the sign over the bar?" Candy asked pointing to a sign that said 'Free Candy'

'It worked', said Cindy as she curled up in Blake's lap purring like a Siberian Tiger ready to eat a turkey.

10-21-2014, 01:38 AM
"He's mine, you she devil!" I shrieked.

My red hair tumbled over my heaving bosom as I grasped Cindy's arm and yanked her from Blake's lap. But I dropped her headlong into the hummus as I caught a glimpse of the debonair chihuahua behind the bar.

"Care for a shot of Lagavulin?" he murmured, raising his eyebrows repeatedly over his devilishly suggestive grin.

10-21-2014, 01:38 AM
And it was at the Injustice of all this, with Envy warring with Empathy in my dewey bosom, I reflected on the greatness that was Castle Ladeeda. It sprawled with open arms through the verdant rolling hills of Nature, decked in more and livlier flowers than even Blake had ordered from the florist. The breath of the wind through my hair, the throng of the soil beneath my feet; it was as if Life itself sympathized with my plight, with that great Sympathy known only by things that are living. Take, for instance, the ants, now crawling up to occupy that open bag of potato chips. Oh, if only my Love could lead the ants of Blake's affection to the picnic of my kisses!

10-21-2014, 01:49 AM
"Free Candy." They still left the sign up as if I wasn't free, but I am free. I've been free ever since the night it happened, that super-mysterious thing that I'm not going to explain until you've trudged through 400 pages of musings on the nature of life.

The trudging is important though, it's a metaphor, see? If you don't trudge, you won't progress. If you don't progress, you'll never arrive. If you never arrive, you'll never be disappointed. If you're not disappointed, you won't look fondly back on the trudging because really it's the journey that counts. Trudging is motion and motion is life. It's a metaphor for life...but you didn't hear that from me.

Anyway, the chihuahua's name is Chico, because the chihuahua's name is always Chico. He wasn't always a chihuahua, any more than I was always Candy. We both got demoted...

10-21-2014, 01:55 AM
"This is supposed to be my engagement party!" wailed Bertha. She stomped her unpedicured Birkenstocked foot on the lawn. "Blake! Blake, aren't you going to do something? I told you we shouldn't have had it here. I knew that witch Voluptua would ruin everything with her trashy chihuahua friends and her cheap candy! You'd better take care of it now, or" -- she clutched Blake's arm and hissed into his ear. "Or I'll tell everyone your secret."

Lyle stood a few feet away, smiling slyly to himself as he eyed Voluptua. No more peeping into windows with binoculars or holding up boomboxes playing love songs or burning names into the snow for him.

This time, his plan was going to work.

10-21-2014, 05:17 AM
Lyle spun around and strode with confidence to his puce colored Volvo. His heart raced with anticipation as he pulled into the circular drive of his parent's aging Victorian mansion, his half-inch heeled leather boots clicking over the terrazzo that lead to his elaborately decorated lair in the lower third section of the east wing. Pausing for a moment to peruse the framed, matted, highly magnified grainy images of the object of his desire, he closed his eyes to let the mantra wash over him. "Someday, you will be mine," repeated over and over in his laudinum-laced mind.

He turned to his task, lining up knives, duct tape, clothes pins, and yogurt covered raisins into precise rows. His ministrations took on a near religious fervor, hyper aware of Blake's smoldering eyes searing into the nape of his neck from the images hanging neatly on the wall behind him.

10-21-2014, 05:29 AM
That's when Solemn turned away, shaking her raven hair in disgust. Her mom's cocktail parties were always so ridiculous and full of people she would never want to be. She moped in the garden until the moon was full above her, wondering if she would ever be wrapped up in such a banal existance.

Solemn didn't wear make up, but suffered from a perfect porcelain complexion that made others question whether or not she was anemic. She sulked dolefully, wondering about the veracity of kittens, and wished for a grand knight on a white horse to sweep her away from all of the decadence, and show her a life that was REAL. Real, but with a knight on a white horse, and maybe vampires and such.

10-21-2014, 05:39 AM
I stood at the window watching my younger sister Solemn moon around in the garden. My sheer black negligee displayed rather than hid my curvaceous charms. I sighed and wiped a tear. I knew exactly how Solemn felt. For I too felt the pointlessness of existence. I too longed for a handsome knight with a long, powerful spear who would sweep me up on his powerful stallion, and let me ride for hours. I passed my fingers slowly downward over my curves, sighing.

Why had mama agreed to throw the engagement party for Blake and Bertha? Why had she served hummus when she knew I despised it? Had she hired the debonair chihuahua bartender to distract me? Well, my feeble attempt to distract myself with the chihuahua had come to nothing, as I knew it would. No man could touch my innermost core and make me tremble and throb as Blake could with a single searing glance. And Blake...Blake hadn't even noticed me. He'd disappeared at some point in the evening. Had I lost him forever?

I heard a familiar tread behind me. I swirled around, my heart pounding beneath my subtle, pouting breasts.

10-21-2014, 06:02 AM
what i saw there was a ghost n not leik the kinds on scooby doo where u pull off the rubber mask n its really farmer joe n he says it wuld have worked if it hadnt been 4 u meddling kids no this was a reel ghost n it was transluncent n stuff n it floated abuv teh floor and i sed OMG!!!!1 i thought u were but it shooshed me n said u must come wit me now 4 tehre r dark plots afoot and i dindt get it cuz the ghost dnt have ne feet just dragging gauze but i

10-21-2014, 06:52 AM
went wiht teh ghost anyway b/c whatever n then we were in teh garden n Solemn wuz thier totaly making out wiht this tall guy n i sed like totaly joking n evrything "y r u makking out with that guy cuz he's like totally 2 old 4 u!" n I wuz laffing but then teh guy terned around n OMG!!! it wuz totally Blake!!! n I wuz like wtf, rite?

10-21-2014, 07:18 AM

Sheer. Agonizing. Painful.


Shooting through my heart like the arrows of some malevolent archer of suffering, tipped with the poison of betrayed trust.


And Blake.



Betrayal. Misery.

Climbing through my fingers and down my throat like Pepto Bismol made out of sorrow.

Under this starry sky, a million needles, electric hell, stripping the night of its comforting blanket of obliviousness and leaving this wedding party with the cold feet of decay.

My lips trembled as I opened them to say,

Six Alaric
10-21-2014, 07:26 AM
'The pain,' I ejaculated. 'I can't take the pain of it.'

The ghost rounded on me, its ghostly visage a mask of phantasmal secrets and lies, betraying itself once again of the grim moral paucity I'd have revealed if it wasn't for the meddling kids' lacklustre efforts.

Cackling harshly it brought a skeletal hand to its face and began to...

10-21-2014, 07:40 AM
...play a plaintive tune on the harmonica as I chastised my erring sister.

"Solemn, you wretched girl. That's my scarf. I've told you time and again not to take my things without asking. Give it back this instant."

"OMG, like, you are so totally materialistic!" whined Solemn.

"Silence, insolent trollop!". I snatched the gauzy relic from Solemn's feeble grasp and turned my angry visage on Blake.

"I dreamed not, sir, that as I paced restlessly in my chamber yonder awaiting your presence you were hither dallying with my young slut of a sister."

"My lady!" Blake knelt at my feet. "I beg thy mercy. Indeed, I did not mean..."

"Be silent!" I cried wrathfully. "I shall deal with you as you deserve. But firstly this wench needs learn a small lesson about coveting my property." I pointed at Solemn and beckoned imperiously to the ghost. "She is yours, Spirit. Do with her as you will. But do stop playing that dreadful tune."

The spirit dropped his harmonica and disappeared as quickly as he had materialized in my chamber. Solemn gave a single agonized wail and then hung limp. But she did not fall. She drifted upward and to the west, toward the ruined tower on the horizon whence no man had dared enter for untold generations.

"And now you!" I hissed to Blake.

10-21-2014, 07:47 PM
Solemn woke up in an auditorium seat, and she noticed it was totally better than those crappy plastic seats at the school gym that always cracked in places where they'd scrape off your skin and the guy who sat in them before you spilled like three gallons of coke nad rum on. This seat was red and soft and she didn't see the slightest sticky pop stain. There was a stage, too, made of wood, with big thick curtains that were big, and also thikc, and it all would have been very cool if everything hadn't been ringed with so many cobwebs you could mistake them for cotton candy, or fake cobwebs from Halloween that are made out of the samw stuff as Q-tips. Maybe it was still cool, though, just cool like in a vampire movie.

Vampires were so dreamy.

Solemn was startled to see other people in the theater seats, intently watching the stage. Dead people, anyway; they were all filmy ghosts, dressed like Wynona Ryder and Gary Oldman in that one old vampire movie, which was like from the middle ages or something.

"Wow, was this up in that old turret all this time?" Solemn said. "Why'd they keep it so locked up? It's way totally cooler than any other part of the house! I totally would rather be staying here than in that crappy corner of the basement wine celler which is the only room my wicked stepmother would let me have, and only if I swept and polished the windows and dusted and stuff!"

Suddenly, the ghost who brought her here appeared beside her. She scooted away, because she'd seen this other movie where ghosts were all slimy and stuff, and she was wearing her favorite peppermint-striped Angelic Pretty bloomers and peppermint-candy shaped handbag with her BTSSB cutsew and lace stockings and calf-high boots and flowery headband and parasol which somehow hadn't gotten a speck of dust on them in spite of being dropped into an ancient theater seat full of cobwebs. Fortunately, the ghost was not very slimy at all. He was actually kind of cute. And he said,

"If your sister will not help me, then you must! There is a diabolical plot to steal your family's fortune and Castle Ladeeda! I do not know who is responsible for it, only that it will not be successful unless you and your siste,r the proper heirs, are eliminated! Somebody will try to do just that unless you and you alone stop him!"

"But can't I just tell our parents?"

"Don't be ridiculous! You must immediately start doing dangerous things and making incredibly poor choices, or you and your sister are doomed!"

And then

10-21-2014, 08:13 PM
...the chain on the door of the old tower broke with a resounding snap. Lyle burst onto the stage with a limp duct-taped figure slung over his shoulder. Even from her distant seat, Solemn could see that the helpless captive was Blake.

"What the hell, man!" snarled Lyle. "This freaking tower is supposed to be deserted!"

He dumped Blake unto a cobweb-covered sofa that appeared to be part of a two-hundred-year-old stage setting, and brandished a knife toward the audience of ghosts.

"You wanna piece of me, punks? Do ya? Yeah, well, bring it!"

All the ghosts swarmed toward him in a single translucent rush. But alas, though they meant well, they were, after all, ghosts. They simply passed through Lyle without so much as mussing his hair, which, when you think about it, is slightly inconsistent with the fact that one of them had managed to transport Solemn half a mile to this tower, but never mind.

Lyle laughed maniacally. "Is that all you got, punks?"

Solemn realized that she was the only other living creature in the place besides the helpless and unconscious Blake. Lyle was a foot taller than she was and had a knife. And he wasn't hampered by calf-high boots with four-inch stiletto heels.

Still, the hot ghost had said she needed to do dangerous things and make some incredibly poor choices if she wanted to save the family fortune and Castle Ladeeda. And confronting a knife-wielding maniac in order to rescue the slightly skeevy much-too-old guy who'd been cheating on his fiancee with an underage girl, and with whom her older sister was in love, seemed like a good start.

10-21-2014, 08:26 PM
But it was dark. Velvety dark. Dark like the darkness found in the deepest cellar in the biggest castle on the tallest mountain. Dark like the darkness found behind the eyes of Death himself. Dark dark dark.

Solemn moved forward slowly, her slim, long-fingered hands stretched forward into the velvet darkness, searching for the roughness of the stone wall, or the smooth glass in the window or the softness of the rich velvet hangings on the wall. Suddenly her heart leapt in her chest and her big eyes grew round as the sound of Smoke On The Water drifted up the stairs.

10-21-2014, 08:33 PM
Blake woke on a filthy sofa in a cobweb-covered, dusty auditorium. The sofa was comfy, but it smelled like Daddy's hunting dog that time it had hidden Daddy's recently shot pheasant in its doghouse and rolled in it daily for a week.

It smelled really, really bad, is what I'm telling you.

And even that Blake could have borne with the calm aplomb that came with his lofty station in life, but then...then a spider ran across his hand.

Blake shrieked like something that shrieks really loud and jumped off the sofa, waving his hand in the air as he tried to dislodge the amorous arachnid. His flailing arm smacked Solemn right in the forehead, knocking her out cold.

A strong, manly, muscular, manly hand grabbed Blake's arm while another manly hand slapped away the spider. Blake turned and found himself gazing into the hard, steely, heated glare of Lyle, and his heart skipped a beat.

Could it be?

Was his dream finally coming true?

That's when Lyle opened his mouth and said...

10-21-2014, 08:38 PM
"Curse you, Voluptua! What the devil are you doing here?"

My bosom heaved with wrath, and an electric current stirred my loins to anger.

"So all along, Lyle, it was you who stood between me and my true love! You thought those poisoned yogurt-covered raisins would get rid of me, didn't you? Well, you thought wrong!"

Blake turned his manly glance upon me. I felt it sear to my soul.

"Voluptua, we need to talk. But first, would you mind removing the duct tape from my wrists and ankles?"

My hand trembled as I reached toward my lost love. I was torn. If I released him, would he leave me for Lyle? Or Solemn? Or Bertha?

But just then...

10-21-2014, 08:43 PM
Solemn lay at the bottom of the steps, alone and forgotten and alone and miserable and, above all, alone.

She heard something skitter across the floor, and tried to turn to look, but her head hurt where Blake had hit her, the cad. Then the skittering was right next to her, and a pair of glowing red eyes appeared, looking down at her.

"Are...are you a...vampire?" she asked breathily, hardly daring to hope.


"Are...are you going to whisk me away and make me a vampire and watch me sleep and we'll sparkle together in the sunlight?"


As the fangs sank into her tender, anemic neck, Solemn thought, "Well, this sucks."

10-21-2014, 08:54 PM
My long, elegant legs trembled as I fled down the steps, away from my love, down, down into the harrowing pit of despair in which he'd plunged me.

I could not face knowing whether he would embrace me at last, sending me into shudders of rapture, or hurl himself headlong into the arms of Lyle, leaving me broken-hearted and alone -- so, so alone. So I left him duct-taped on the sofa and fled. Down, down, down...

...until I bumped smack into a black-robed vampire who held my sister limply in his grasp. At the impact, he dropped her to the floor, where she lay sprawled like a pale and anemic corpse.

"How dare you interrupt my blood feast?" snarled the vampire. "But you will do nicely as a substitute."

My bosom heaved in terror and my loins burned as he took me in his grasp and pushed the long red-gold curls from my snowy neck.

But suddenly Solemn sat up. She was sparkling oddly. And she said...

10-21-2014, 09:31 PM
"I feel a sudden surge of power I never knew I had!"

Her hands burst into flames, which then leapt upon the vampire. Furthermore, while he was screaming, who should run up the stairs but Bertha Slops!

Amidst my torn feelings, my endangered sister, and the sinister plot, I felt, at least, a little satisfaction at seeing her party ruined by all this drama. But then she ripped off her unfashionable sweats and underneath them had a tommygun that fired stakes!

"Now!" She screamed.

Solemn hurled another fireball at the vampire, who screamed, and then Bertha fired stake after stake into his body.

Disrobed of the unfashionable sweats, she needed only to pull her hair out of that sooo sixties bun and all of a sudden she looked exactly like I remembered from school! I coudln't believe it?

"Bertha Slops?"

"That's Agent Slops," She said cattily and snottily, "Of the Paranormal Ordeal Order!"

"OMG what r u doing here!" Solemn exclaimed surprisedly.

"We've been hunting that vampire for weeks, but when I saw you, I knew; sometimes people between the ages of 4 and 792 display phenomenal powers when pushed past their Danger Threshold by danger!"

Bertha, trying to recruit my sister for some kind of POO? I growled at her.

She growled at me.

Oh, it was so on again. First she moves on my man, and now she's hunting vampires through my house, and that after it had already been bought out from under my uncle. This wasn't over, Bertha Slops!

10-21-2014, 09:43 PM
omg, i wuz so ready 2 take on teh vampire n do dangrous things and make incredably poor choices just like the hot ghost told me 2 do 2 save my fortune and castle n stuff n then my shallow materielistic sister n her freind cum round shooting steaks n stuff n creating drama just when i becam all sparkley and vampirey and cool at last n it wuz my tern 2 be teh center of attenshion 4 once. its sooooo not fair, rite? i meen wtf. rite?

10-21-2014, 10:27 PM
I looked at Bertha.

She looked at me.

We both looked at Solemn, who had just spewed a vomitous mass of almost-words at us and now stood staring at us with that vacuous stare she could stare with. It made my heaving bosom itch.

I nodded at Bertha. She opened fire, turning my sparkly sister into a pincushion...of stakes. Stakecushion?

"Don't think this makes us even," I snarled at her, in case she'd forgotten that she was just a man-stealing wretch.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," she said, and pointed her tommygun of stakes...staketommy? Tommystake? Stakegun?...at me.

10-21-2014, 10:36 PM
omg, this is so totes like a freakin bummer. i mean wtf, these steak things totally hurt n my self-centered so called sister didn't do like anything 2 help me, like big suprise there NOT.

but at least may b this time Voluptua gets hers cuz like this POO chick iz so totally aiming at her now, yay.

and weight. i here someone cuming down teh stairs n i'm so shure he'll like totally call 911 or give me mouth 2 mouth or sumthing

10-21-2014, 11:49 PM
The vampires performed the tango with Texas Line dancing precision, as the smoke from a thousand opium hookahs drifted toward the ceiling five stories above.

Blake cringed, sinking into the sofa as if it were a submarine and his only hope of salvation. ‘Chico’ the debonair Chihuahua, unfolded his bar and winked back another alias, before he poured Blake a tumblr full of the cheap rum Bertha had ordered for the engagement party.

“Oh what is going to become of me!” Blake wailed in the manly way he wails when he is unmanned by circumstances.

“You know what you MUST do to gain the inheritance and lose the shticks,” Lyle chuckled as he tangoed, rubenesquely close with Voluptua in his arms. Voluptua grabbed the harmonica from the air and played a haunting Eminem melody as Lyle twirled her away into the gloom of the gas-lit room.

Blake shuddered, knowing the only way out of the difficulty he’d caused himself by monetizing the securitized receivables balance of the chain of shoe stores controlled by his bank was to embark on a marriage of convenient lust and depravity in hopes of siring a child from whom he could pay for a cheeseburger on Thursday if the loan were to be given on a Monday.

As his thoughts returned to panic mode, Solemn walked up to him and slapped him across the face.

“I’m not pregnant, and I never will be pregnant, because, not only am I a vampire, too, but HAH HAH HAH!! I spent the last two years, not in Albania, as my mother would have you believe, but in IRAN…where I have become Captain Cannabis!”

Blake blinked.

"Oh, yeah," Solemn added.... "and I'm a man."

10-22-2014, 01:06 AM
Solemn collapsed onto a barstool and burst into tears that trickled down his nose and mingled with snot, making snot-tear bombs that dropped upon the clean countertop.

"Chico," who liked to keep the place neat, placed a napkin a few inches away and swiveled Solemn's stool until all the fresh drippings were caught in this makeshift net. Then the chihuahua grabbed a bar rag and wiped up the mess.

Blake was impressed with the tiny dog's efficiency. He was less impressed when, the task completed, Chico returned to wiping out clean glasses using the snottified bar rag. He supposed you could only expect so much from a bartender who would cheerfully eat his own (or anyone else's) vomit.

Blake sighed. He hated dealing with emotions, for he was a manly man of might, but the sight of Solemn sniveling on the stool forced his hand. He patted Solemn's heaving shoulder. "I knew it all. I knew about your undead Irannabus frolics thanks to my connections with the FBI and I've know you were a man ever since the night the "marker" in your pocket kept poking me as we danced. If only there were a way for you to bear my child, my problems would be solved..."

10-22-2014, 02:29 AM
Randy stifled in the stifling bear costume, fidgeting as a drop of sweat ran down between his shoulder blades, slowed to an easy trot to the small of his back, then walked, huffing like a 400-lb. hamburger lover, to his buttcrack.

He'd pulled one arm out of the costume sleeve and into its main body, so that he could just squeeze the small bottle of cheap whiskey to his lips now and then. This was his third small bottle, and he was starting to feel the effects, if by "feel the effects" you mean "couldn't see straight or stand without assistance."

That's when he finally heard his cue -- the word "bear," spoken by the manly lips of the totally masculine Blake.

Still struggling to push his arm into the sleeve, he lumbered in from Stage Left and gave his best approximation of a roar. It sounded more like the dying wail of a car-struck cat.

"Dammit, Randy, you don't come in for another twenty pages!" Blake roared.

Randy admired Blake's manly roar as he stumbled back the way he'd come, tottered off his path, and fell off the front of the stage.

Blake turned back to Solemn. "Now, where were we...oh, yes. If only you could...er, have my children," he said, glaring toward the spot where Randy's mangy bear costume had disappeared.

10-22-2014, 03:01 AM
As if on cue, the band walked onto stage.

"Aha!" Said the ghost. "This will finally shed some light on something that needs light shed on it! But why were you so late?"

"Sorry," Said Dr. Dethmarch, his bright orange hair teased into stiff spikes atop his head. "We figured if this was a party, we should bring a few kegs, but then there was this really long line." He grimaced in the memory of the really long line. It made him feel very frustrated. Waiting in it had been very boring, like those amusement park lines, except instead of a roller coaster at the end there was beer.

The chihuahua was happy to have more beer, though, since he had been- though he shuddered to admit it to himself- getting slightly low on that particular beverage. He felt happy and somewhat relieved, although slightly annoyed, too, that he had not thought to bring more. He prided himself on being an excellent bartender, and an excellent bartender never ran out of beer.

Anyway, Dr. Dethmarch jumped on the stage and started singing,

THE [censored] WILL [censored] TO [censored censored censored]

The music caused all kinds of metal shit to spontaneously break out, like a Viking ship pulled up in the front yard and Vikings spilled out to do battle with skeleton warriors while dragons swooped overhead, steered by sexy wizardesses, to burn down the neighbor's organic fruit stand, which was mostly empty t his time of year anyways. But last of all, they swept onto one of the tangoers and removed her rubber mask.

"OMG!!!!" Solemn and I both said in unison.

Because the woman they had unmasked was...

"My wicked stepmother!" Solemn declared.

10-22-2014, 03:40 AM
I gaze at them, both shocked like a Halloween pumpkin with a too-large candle stuffed inside. Slyly, I ask, "Were you expecting a fairy godmother?"

Their eyes dart from side to side, like a maniacal frog in a butcher's dumpster. Speaking shakily, they say in unison, "But... but... you're dead!"

I raise a haughty eyebrow at them, like a frightening school-teacher straight out of Harry Potter, and whisper scarily, "The wicked never die. Don't you watch horror films?"

Suddenly shriveling back on himself like a fast-tracked voodoo shrunken-head, Blake simpered, "It wasn't me--I just found the body, nothing more!"

Smirking at his fear, I sauntered closer like a tigress closing in on an especially raunchy piece of meat. Purring seductively, I said, "Don't worry big boy, you and Solemn can make it up to me."

The two handsome figures before me trembled, shaking against the well-worn bar like a pole dancer two years past retirement.

Solemn opened and closed his mouth like the electric doors of a small-town mini-mall.

"Yes?" I asked excitedly, waiting for an answer like a sailor on his last night of shore leave.

10-22-2014, 04:13 AM
"I'm totally sorry," snivelled Solemn, "but like, I've lost track of who the character is who's narrating in the first person at the moment. This story started off as Voluptua narrating, and I took a turn or two, and I think the candy dish had a shot at it, and maybe Blake, I dunno, but now I'm like totally confused. Also, I didn't even know my evil stepmother was dead until now, though I can't say I'm sorry to hear it."

I stamped my foot, which, as it was clad in a metallic shoe, clanked resoundingly on the stage.

"I am your evil stepmother, and I'm narrating from now on. And I was never dead, which you'd know if you had the attention span of a gnat, you silly slut. But you might also know me by another name." I held up my rubber mask.

"Lyle!" gasped Voluptua. "All along it was you?"

"Yes!" I snarled.

"You planned the engagement party for Blake and Bertha?"

"Yes!" I shrieked triumpantly.

"You helped me bathe and dress and undress and gave me long hot oil massages which carried me through all those dark nights when I longed unavailingly for Blake's strong manly touch?"

Yes! Yes! Yes!" I cackled.

"You think you have it all figured out, don't you?" hissed Voluptua. "But there's one thing you didn't count on --"

10-22-2014, 05:41 AM
Just Then!!! The most suave and canine Haggis Chihuahua spoke to Solemn, "I noes u r a vampire n such, but us canines are betters and hotters. Come away with me to Vegas!"

Solemn thought long and hard for 15 seconds, and then jumped on his back and the two rode off into the moonset.

Then, after arriving at Vegas, she moped amongst the slot machines, wondering if she shouldn't have left and stuff. Then!!'! She saw a show recreating the musical numbers from Cats, and it all slipped away, like a bad dream... UNTIL

10-22-2014, 05:51 AM
I yanked the chapter back to me.

"Listen, you little snotnose brat," I sneered. "Whether you're my sister or my brother or a vampire or whatever it is you are, I was IN THE MIDDLE OF A SENTENCE when you ran off to Vegas with that damn chihuahua and tried to take the chapter with you. Well, it's not going to work. I was about to, er...uh..."

My bosom heaved as I tried to remember where I'd left off. My loins burned as Blake spoke up in his manly voice.

"You were saying that there was one thing Lyle, er, your stepmother hadn't counted on," he said.

I shuddered as I felt his burning glance pierce through me.

"Absolutely! Yes, that's what I was saying! Well, mama, there's one thing you weren't counting on. I'm PREGNANT!"

There was a collective gasp as everyone in the room gazed at my slim, willowy midsection, which, they now saw, was ever so slightly swollen with the fruits of forbidden love.

"Yes!" I cried triumphantly. "It's true! I"m going to bear...


10-22-2014, 05:56 AM
Astonishing all, Voluptua and Blake broke out into an uncannily accurate and heartfelt rendition of The Marcarena. The onlookers cried, embarrassed that they had judged them so harshly. Lyle ordered cupcakes, which arrived too late for most, which was okay with Voluptua, because she was really hungry.

10-22-2014, 07:40 AM
Randy was jolted out of a weird vampire dream by the sound of the Macarena and...something else. Something...he was supposed to do.

He tried to focus, but the alcohol made him as confused as a man drunk on alcohol, and he started to go back to his dream.

"BEAR!" he shouted. After three tries, he was able to pull himself back onto his feet. Someone had said, "Bear," and by golly, he wasn't going to miss his cue.

"BEAR!" he shouted again, but no one could hear him over the Macarena music and the odd stomping rhythm of Vol-- Vola-- That V Woman's improbably metal shoes.

He finally managed to drag himself onto the stage, cleared his throat for a dramatic roar, then stumbled drunkenly into Lyle's...er, V's stepmother's?...back.

"You're still EARLY!!" shrieked Blake, stamping his foot in a way that was totally not feminine at all. "Get off the stage, you dolt!"

Randy lifted his bear head, belched a drunken belch drunkenly in Blake's face, then steered drunkenly offstage.

10-22-2014, 08:13 AM

"STOP IT! Just shut up right now" screamed Solemn, yanking at his lovely black hair as though he wanted to tear it out by the roots. "I am SO SICK of you hogging all the attention, Voluptua!"

"Wait a minute," said one of the masked tangoers. "I thought you went to Vegas with that chihuahua bartender. He never got my drink, by the way."

"Could've fooled me," said another tangoer. "I thought that Bertha chick killed her a couple plot twists ago."

"No, he survived that somehow," replied the first. "I think you were in the bathroom and missed it. I guess you missed the whole sex reveal, too. He's a he now. But then --"

"SHUT UP!" Solemn stamped his foot. "I came back, OK? It was totally shallow and materialistic and filled with banal corporate musicals and I hated it, OK? And like anyone cares where I went anyway! It's all Voluptua, Voluptua, Voluptua! We had to listen to her driving and talking to herself for three freaking pages! Then we had to listen to all her sickening thinly-veiled sexual innuendos, and her blathering about Ladeeda castle's flowers! She even made Bertha's engagement party all about her! And now she's going to have a freaking baby so everyone will be cooing all over her and the baby all the time!"

The hot ghost zoomed down from the ceiling, where he and the other ghosts had been pow-wowing, trying to decide their next move. He hovered translucently in front of Blake and Voluptua.

"Hey, speaking of the baby, I've been wondering how you managed that, Voluptua. I mean, haven't you been pining on and on since the beginning of this story about how you and Blake never managed to get together to do the deed?"

"SHUT UP!" screeched Solemn. "That's just what I mean! Everyone is always talking about Voluptua! What about ME! Why doesn't anyone care about me! I can't BEAR this anymore!"

10-22-2014, 10:40 AM
"ROOOOOAAAA- oh, to hell with it," Randy stumbled back on stage and swayed like a swayey thing. Why all this drama? All he wanted to do was put in a stella performance, even though he was seeing triple. "YOU DON'T APPRECIATE MY TALENT!"
"You're still early" Blake bellowed in his manly voice of manliness. Randy openedhis mouth to respond, but all that followed was a torrent of partially digested mexican food and roughly four pints of whiskey. The manly one did not notice Randy's plight, for the bear suit hid all. Except the mold.
"Be gone!" The person that was Lyle and or a wicked stepmother pushed him off the stage and he stumbleded and fell. Why? he thought. Why me?

"So wait," the ghost said, his scorching dead translucent features deigned to convey confusion. "I have no idea what's going on any more. We have a POO lady-"
"I'm not a poo," Bertha said. "I hunt monsters."
"No, Bertha," Blake spoke in his deep manly voice of manliness that would make the ghost's innards squirm if it had any. "You are the monster."
Then Bertha was a monster.

10-22-2014, 06:40 PM
But of course, we'd known SHE was a monster all along. At least, those of us who'd been paying attention.

"Back to me!" I said, stamping my foot in indignation. It seemed like the thing people were doing these days. "I am WITH CHILD here! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!"

10-22-2014, 08:00 PM
Unfortunately, in the woods nearby (which were still a little on fire), the football team of Deadmeat High and their cheerleader friends were setting up camp.

"Great times after that last game," said Buff Linebacker, smoking a joint.

"We are NUMBER ONE!" was the eloquent response of Muscles MacMassive.

"But are you sure we should be out here?" Said Belle Glasses. "I mean, after that terrible thing happened here that long time ago that resulted in all that stuff and those stories of hauntings?"

"Oh, nobody believes that," buff laughed as he cracked open a brewski.

Then Bertha, who had become what she hunted and was filled with hatred and envy, remembering her own high school days in which she had been queen bee and that loser Voluptua was her footstool, killed them all except for Belle.

"Stop it, guys, this isn't funny," Said Belle, wondering where her friends had all gone.

Meanwhile, Voluptua...

10-22-2014, 08:09 PM
...I, Voluptua, was watching in grim triumph as my old school rival showed her true colors.

Bertha had laughed scornfully when Blake called her a monster, tossing her long, honey-blonde tresses that, for most of the story, she'd kept confined in a tight, unattractive bun, and wiggling the curvaceous hips that were now encased in a form-fitting leather jumpsuit, but that, until recently, she'd kept shrouded in unfashionable velour sweatpants.

But then her laughter turned into hideous grunting and snarling. A hairy snout thrust forward from her face, and huge horns leapt out on either side. Three rows of enormous fangs sprang from her foaming mouth. Long, razor-sharp claws shot out from her hands, and another set from her toes, slicing straight through her thigh-high patent leather boots. Her slim form convulsed, swelled, burst through the jumpsuit and boots, contorted and twisted into an immense crouching form on the floor.

I had been expecting it for some time.

"Ay carumba!" ejaculated Blake "What the hell did I get engaged to?"

My loins burned at his use of Spanish and his ejaculating, but the plot was moving too quickly now for me to elaborate on it.

"I told you," I said, batting my emerald green eyes at him. "I told you she was a pig. Now, can we get back to talking about me?"

"I don't think that's a pig," pointed out one of the tangoers. "I think it's some kind of mythical monster. Maybe a manticore?"

"Nah," said another. "A manticore has wings."

"I think they're budding," said the first, pointing at the mounds rapidly swelling on either side of Bertha's torso. "Check it out. Yep, I was right," he said smugly as wings burst out and flapped ominously. "Bat wings."

"Fine," I said irritably, tossing my red-gold tresses. "Whatever. But can we get back to me? And my unborn child?"

"What about me?" whined my stepmother. "I've been posing as your childhood friend and would-be lover for ages, and now you've upstaged my big reveal that I'm really a woman, and your stepmother. In any other story, that would have been huge news."

Solemn's normally anemic complexion was suffused with purple.

"SHUT UP! What about ME! I had my big sex reveal before you did, AND I got kidnapped by a ghost, AND I became a vampire, AND I got killed with a stake gun, AND I ran off with a chihuahua, and STILL no one is paying attention to me!"

10-22-2014, 08:35 PM
Celestia Constellation McMurphy lit the final candle and sat at one point of the pentagram on the floor. She sighed for the million-and-first time over her unfortunate last name. It just didn't fit the aesthetic she was going for. Oh, well.

"So, um, are we, like, going to talk to Chet's grandma again?" asked Bethany Hawke. Now there was a last name. "Because she was, like, a total bitch last time."

"Hey!" Chet said, glancing up from his GameBoy for the first time.

"Shut up," Celestia snapped, placing the Ouija board in the center of the pentagram. "And she totally was, Chet."

"You try being dead for fifteen years," Chet grumbled. "See how YOU like it."

"I don't see why we have to use the stupid board," Steph said. "It's so...gauche."

"Stop trying to sound smart," Celestia said. "It so doesn't work on you."

"Haha, good one," Brad said. "High-fives!" He held his palm up toward Celestia and waited expectantly. She glared at him for an awkward moment, until he slowly lowered his hand. "Cold, dude. Cold."

"Everyone shut up and put your fingers on the puck."

"Planchette," Steph corrected, still smarting over Celestia's joke.

"Whatever." Celestia glared around at them, and each put their fingers on the planchette. It was crowded...but not quite as crowded as it should be. Celestia slapped Chet on the back of the head.

"Ow." He put the GameBoy in his lap and reached his hands toward the planchette. "You're always so violent, Cel."

"Shut up," she said again. She cleared her throat, scanned the book next to her one last time, and started chanting.

"Omni portenta dementia mundi--"

"I don't think that's right," said Steph. "'Dementia'? Isn't that a thing old people get?"

"Shut up, shut UP, SHUT UP," Celestia yelled. "Now I have to start over."

"Sor-ry," Steph muttered.

Celestia rolled her eyes. Another five minutes, and she'd be rid of all of these idiots, once and for all. She took a deep, calming breath, and began again.

"Omni portenta demoni mundi," she chanted, with a quick glare at Steph. "Banana-fana-bo-bemoni," she continued, as a sickly green glowing haze started to form over the board. Chet gave an appreciative whistle, which she ignored. "Fee-fi-mo-mundi," she finished, and waited expectantly for her new demonic servant to ask for her orders.

The green haze solidified into a hunched creature with a hideously deformed face, still floating in the air above the board. Celestia shivered. "Now, my servant --" she said in her chanting voice.

"Oh, piss off," the demon growled. "You bore me." He turned in midair and streaked away, smashing through the window and hurtling toward the woods surrounding that weird creepy castle nextdoor. The sudden wind through the broken glass blew out the candles.

The five witches of Broken Coven sat staring at each other, then at Celestia. Finally, Chet broke the silence.

"Well, that was fun. Pizza, anyone?"

10-22-2014, 08:45 PM
I stomped my slim, elegant foot, clad in a delicate satin sandal, and my bosom heaved in rage.

"Who the F__ are all these football players and cheerleaders and teenage coven people who keep intruding on MY plot?" I demanded.

"YOUR plot?" snarled Solemn. "Why is it YOUR plot, other than the fact you keep trying to hog it?"

I slapped him. "Well, I AM the protagonist. Duh. Why else do you think this novel started with three pages of my driving fast while having highly intellectual internal musings?'

Solemn sneered, despite the red mark of my hand on his cheek. "You may not have noticed it, dear sister, but we've hardly kept to your POV throughout."

A hum from the ceiling grew and swelled until it overcame the tango music from the band and the harmonica that Randy the bear was plaintively and drunkenly playing.

It was the ghosts, massing together and muttering invective. This tower had been theirs for centuries. And they'd come up with a plan to get it back.

10-22-2014, 09:00 PM
Hush, for I have a grand speech to make!" An overdressed ghost drifted down from the collected non-bodies, which were now line-dancing and singing waterloo. "I am Edgar Galt Stumblebutt IV, the true owner of this estate!" The ghost had no indoor voice, so floated out of the window.
"What's he saying?" Blake had to ejaculate again. "I can't hear him now."
"ME. PAY. ATTENTION. TO. ME!" Voluptua pulled handfuls of hair out, specially prepared that morning in case of chronic overacting. Her burning was in overdrive for Blake, but she had everyone's attention at last. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT DEAD GUYS. I dont car about my stupid bratty sister... brother... whatever. I dont even car that Bertha just went down to the woods and returned within a minute. I'm the MAIN character here!"
"Speak your mind, senorita," a man whith a twirly moustache and a sombrero had appeared behind the chihuahua's bar. His face fungus made Voluptua's loins burn, but she wasn't about to give up the spotlight.
"Who's he?" Solemn had taken to slitting his wrists with a straw.
"My name is Senor Bob. Haggis employs me to listen to his clients spill their drunken worries." he Said hottingly.
"ME!" Voluptua shrieked. She tore out another handful of hair, for good measure. "I have a dark secret, for you see..."

10-22-2014, 09:08 PM
"...I am a lawyer." I took over narrating, which was only proper since I am, after all, the main character. My bosom heaved as I tossed my titian hair over my shapely white shoulders and continued. "And as a lawyer, I can tell you that being dead, you are no longer the owner of the estate, and haven't been since 1769 when you forfeited your rights by plunging from this very tower to your untimely death. So please. Let's get back to ME and the child I will soon bear."

But just then, a green glow filled the broken window at the top of the tower.

10-22-2014, 09:33 PM
"Bear," shouted Randy. He didn't bother to get up, and as soon as he heard Blake's frustrated, "Too early!!" he nodded and went back to his mournful harmonica tune.


The demon (or daemon, as he preferred to be called) hovered at the window, staring at the collection of fools scattered around the stage. Where was she...where was she...ah. There. She tossed her titian hair, and he nearly tossed his cookies. That kid inside her...that thing made even him shudder in cold, dark terror.

"Got you now, though," he muttered. "Stop this before it even starts."

He blasted through the window with a deafening roar.

He'd always loved making a grand entrance...

10-22-2014, 10:05 PM
I raised my silvery, sensual voice a notch higher so that everyone would be able to hear my lecture on the Rule against Perpetuities over the deafening roar proceeding from somewhere above me.

"....so it must vest, if at all, not later than twenty-one years after the death of some life in being at the creation of the interest. Which, as I've plainly demonstrated, means that I am the heir, and my unborn child will succeed me."

"What about me?" whined my stepmother. "I was married to your father. I should inherit."

"Pffft," I said. "You're not even a blood relative. And papa's will clearly left the estate to his eldest child."

"But what about ME!" screeched Solemn. "I should be first! I'm the son!"

"Pfffffffft," I said scornfully, a delicate spray of spittle proceeding from my full, rosy lips. "The estate is not entailed upon male heirs. I'm the eldest. And after my death, the estate would naturally pass to my children, not to you."

Bertha snarled. "Not if I can help it, wench." She brandished her claws and crouched to spring.

"Not if I can help it!" roared the daemon, soaring down from the ceiling.

"Not if I can help it!" rasped the stake-skewered vampire who'd just appeared on stage and now loped toward me.

"Not if I can help it!" moaned Edgar Galt Stumblebutt IV, gliding down with a translucent sword.

"Not if I can help it!" screeched Solemn, waving a nail file.

"Not if I can help it!" shouted my stepmother/Lyle, brandishing a cast iron pan she'd picked up at a yard sale.

And all at once they leapt at me. Main character or not, I was doomed. Unless --

10-22-2014, 10:14 PM
Crash!!!1!1! And smash, and other noises! The demon-
"Daemon, thank you."
-daemon entered the dusty old tower, with such aplomb that even the ghosts ceased their Abba performance.
"-and another thing..." Edgar Stumblebutt was still raving outside.
"Not if I can help it!"the daemon yelled. He had to stop her, stop the child. Failure was not an option.
"STOP!" Senor Bob brandished a bottle of champagne at all of them and slowly did the unthinkable. He began to unwrap the wire. "How about we all calm down and nobody gets their clothes or fur wet?"
"You," the daemon pointed a crooked finger with fourteen joints at Voluptua. Quite apart from terrifying her, it seemed to have the opposite effect. That wasn't in the script, he thought. She could have at least stopped her tirade. The man in the sombrero stopped turning the wire, for the moment. Nobody moved, until...
"Yes, me! That's what I've been saying!" She threw her hands in the air and tossed her hair again. "I'm a lawyer and Blake's child is mine! Pay attention to me! And stop interrupting with your asides!"
"You are wrong," the daemon said, coming to a halt as close to her as he could stomach.
"About the estate? I think not."
"No, you insipid mortal. I could not care less about your damned estate. Blake is not the father. Tell her, Blake. Tell her the truth."
"It can't be me," Blake hunged his head. He glanced at his watch and his face lit up with ill-deserved hope. "It's finally time" I can't BEAR this!"

10-22-2014, 10:38 PM
"No more delays!" roared the daemon. "You must BARE ALL!"

"OMG, this is like sooooo emBARrassing!" whined Solemn.

"Whatever the seeming BARricade might be, I know our love can demolish it!" I cried with a heave of my bosom and a toss of my titian curls.


Randy set down the harmonica and tried to focus his bleary eyes. Something. Something he was supposed to do. Six shots of scotch and a dozen beers warred with the rum he'd just downed as he tried to stand.

His cue. That was it. He'd heard his cue. Maybe it was time at last. He struggled to his feet and immediately toppled backwards onto his furry, matted behind.

Meh. It was probably too early. He closed his eyes and dozed.

10-22-2014, 10:42 PM
"Screw 'em all," Randy muttered. The inside of the bear costume smelled utterly vile now, and Randy was feeling sorry for himself. "Wouldn't know good acting if it hit 'em in the bingos."

He heard a crash from somewhere near the roof, and a chunk of rubble landed almost on his bingos. Some sort of commotion commenced above, and he thought he heard Blake yammering about something, but he was unable to pry his gaze away from the largeish chunk of stone that had nearly unmanned him.

"I need a drink," he slurred.

"I SAID, I can't BEAR this," Blake screeched.

Randy shook himself out of his near-bingo-death experience. That was his cue. He was sure this time. But...what if he was wrong? He'd been wrong before, he thought. But maybe that was just a dream? He was awfully drunk, after all. Why, he hadn't been this drunk since --

Something whacked him in the side of his bear head. He peered drunkenly up at Blake, who was whacking him with a prop stake and screeching at him.

"I -" whack! "SAID" whack! "I" whack! "CAN'T" whack! "BEAR" whack! "THIS!!!"

Randy caught the stake in one clawed, costumed paw, and yanked on it. Blake, still holding tight to the other end, overbalanced and landed on top of him. Voluptua fanned herself at the edge of the stage. Some green demon-thing smirked down at him.

Randy did the only thing a drunken man who'd spent too many drunken hours in a hot, muggy, vomit-encrusted bear costume could do: He fainted dead away.

10-22-2014, 10:52 PM
"Great. Just great. What the heck are we supposed to do now?" ejaculated Blake in his manly voice. "The whole climax depends on that damn bear."

My loins burned and my bosom heaved as Blake ejaculated and then casually discussed his climax and his nakedness, which needless to say was extremely manly in the manliest possible way, in his sardonically masculine and manly fashion.

"Blake, oh my darling Blake," I cried, my full, red lips trembling. "We don't need the bear. We don't need anything but each other. I love you, darling. I have always loved you. Deeply, passionately, wildly. I love with a love that is more than a love, with the heat of a thousand searing suns, like the lava of eleventy million volcanos. I want to twine my voluptuous form around you and heave my bosom against you and something about my loins and if all goes well and we're both in the mood I'd like to feel your manliness and have you get all manly with your manhood and something will throb and pierce me deeply and I'll shudder in ecstasy and various other euphemisms I'm far too sexually excited to articulate."

I flung my arms around him.

10-22-2014, 11:08 PM
"I can't. I just can't," Blake scrunched his eyes up. "I can't, because... because I'm not Blake after all?"
"What?" Voluptua was aroused and confused. Arused?
"That's not a question, contrary to the punctuation there," Blake wiped a non-existent tear from his eye. Well, if Randy wasn't going to play his part, Blake would just have to make up for it. "My name isn't Blake."
"Then who are you? More importantly, will you keep talking in your manly manly voice of manly?"
"I... I am Frank."
"Yes. And frankly, my dear... I think this demon-"
-Whatever," Frank gritted his teeth, "Frankly, my dear, I think this daemon is waiting for his part in this play."

10-22-2014, 11:42 PM
I swiveled my pure ivory neck, looking for the daemon.

He was at the bar, one smoky green hand holding a smoky green cocktail, and the other smoky green hand around Bertha's waist, just where her tramp stamp used to be before her transformation into a manticore.

She was showing all three rows of her fangs and clawing his smoky green bicep coquettishly as she snorted at his jokes.

It was pretty clear they'd lost all interest in me and Blake. I mean Frank. IF that was his real name.

"Bla -- Frank," I pleaded. "I don't understand. What difference does your real name make to our love? Whoever you are, I hunger for you with my loins and bosom and so forth. And I'm going to bear your child."

10-22-2014, 11:55 PM
RROOOOAAAAAARR! Randy finally stumbled onto the stage. His moment was finally here, his glory at hand. "RRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!"
Bertha bounded over to the bear suit and swallowed it in one. Randy was finally revealed. He looked exactly like a vomit-encrusted man who had spent months in a moldy, moth-eaten bear suit, drinking himself to death. He was as confused as I am as to how he didn't get eaten as well.
"Err..." Frank watched the affair. "I lied. my name isn't Frank either."
"But why? This makes me confused," Voluptua said.
"Because I was setting myself up for both a shout-out and a pun. I have a terrible condition, caused by a mysterious, deep-voiced man. I have... punmania!"

10-23-2014, 12:58 AM
Solemn was lingering, sprawled out in an obvious display of exhaustion in the middle of the castle courtyard- this an unfortunate consequence of dealing with his or her developing gender identity crisis. She was nursing a deep melancholy and I knew in my very raunchy heart that it had everything to do with me. Everything has everything to do with me.

I tossed my fiery, red hair across my shoulder and huffed in frustration. My loins burned and ached as I watched Frank's chest sparkle in the sun. I was beginning to suspect that all this burning, aching and urinary urgency had something to do with that passionate night I'd passed with Chico in the court yard some weeks ago.

The thought brought a distasteful purse to my full lips. I would need an STD test. Blake, Frank, the Bear and that vampire from the theater would have to be tested as well.

10-23-2014, 02:01 AM
Solemn threw his arms over his eyes, blocking the sunlight. (a gesture that is pretty obviously metaphorical as well as physical, just in case you missed it. FYI, pretty much everything Solemn has done in this story and in his entire life is fraught with significance.)

He must go back inside. (Unfortunately, since he was a small girl, he's been trapped in his banal life with his wealthy family and has had no chance to show the world the depth of his despair, the nobility of his struggle against it, and the courage that would enable him to triumph over it. This is all totally implied in the outfit he's wearing. Read the description of his outfit again if you missed it. It's like 20 or 30 posts back.)

It took all his will to haul himself to his feet. No one from his family was there to assist. (As you can see, that's a metaphor too. He's physically standing up, and it's not easy for him, and his uncaring family didn't help -- and that's just what his entire life has been like, as has been repeatedly implied throughout the story.)

He tugged his skirt and smoothed his hair. (Note that despite his existential despair, he's so accustomed to presenting an unruffled.conventional appearance that even as he's about to throw convention to the winds he primps automatically. That applies spiritually as well, in case you missed it.)

With gritted teeth, he stalked into the tower, which he couldn't remember leaving. (Isn't that a powerful chapter ending? See, it's totally a metaphor for his deliberate decision to confront his family and his troubles. But we've also got a hint that he's run away from them in the past, even though he himself can't remember (or won't admit) doing so.)

10-23-2014, 05:28 AM
Then! He or she went into the unisex castle bathroom, intent on checking gender identity to determine it once and for all. "My myopia!" he or she exclaimed, "I just can't see far enough to tell!" Then, he or she sobbed dolefully while munching dark chocolate and questioning his or her feelings about college basketball.

That's when a bear rushed through the adjacent stall, and Solemn had to leave because of the fumes.

Meanwhile, the chihuahua was at a local high school mooning over mopey girls and determining which one he should save next! dot dot dot

10-23-2014, 05:49 AM
Celestia stomped into the castle without knocking, with the rest of the Broken Coven following meekly behind her. She had been Really Angry when the daemon had disappeared, and had given the rest of the coven one of her patented Talking To's.

She was not going to have any daemon she had conjured going off on its own, wreaking havoc and chaos.

If there was havoc and chaos to be had, Celestia Constellation McMurphy (ugh, she was going to have to change that horrible last name) was going to be the cause of it.

She burst into the auditorium in time to almost get knocked over by some cross-dressing guy with tears pouring down his face.

"This is the place," she announced to the Coven. "Everyone just do what I told you and this won't take long."

She led them down the aisle toward the stage, where some horrible redhead was whining about a bear.

10-23-2014, 05:55 AM
Matt Daemon was getting fed up with all of the drama, and stopped to pose for a photo shoot before returning to the story. He stopped first to have cheese-fries with the bear at a local diner, and then unleashed his fury at those who used his name without paying his managing company for rights...

10-23-2014, 08:10 AM
My passionate bosom heaved as I waited for Blake (aka Frank) to answer my passionate plea.

"I love you, darling, passionately, now and forever, with every passionate beat of the passionate heart in my passionate heaving bosom," I cried passionately. "And then there's the baby to consider. And then there's my passion."

He sighed heavily. "Voluptua. I am not the father of your child. I cannot be the father of your child."

His manly eyes bore into me, and I felt my loins flame. I really do need to see a doctor about that.

"But, why? Why?" I cried. "I'm totally positive that I seduced you secretly disguised as your winsome though adenoidal secretary with whom you were having an affair out of desperation and despair because you thought I was unavailable even thought it's fairly obvious to everyone I'm not. I know it's your baby. And I love you!"

He sighed heavily, his manly eyes gazing at me in despairing despair.

"Because, my dear Voluptua, there's something you don't know, something I fear will drive you away from me forever. Although my love for you is as eternal as the skies above us and the ground beneath --"

"They're actually not eternal," interrupted the daemon. "I mean, I'm eternal, and I totally remember --"

"SHUT UP!" I screamed. "Blake, Blake! You love me! I knew it!" I threw my heaving bosom against his hard, manly chest and twined my slender arms around his manly, masculine neck. "What else could matter? We're a woman and a man in love --"

"That's just it, Voluptua. We're not a woman and man in love. You see --" Blake ripped open his shirt to reveal cleavage that rivaled mine. "I'm actually a woman. Call me Frances. Frankie, if you prefer"

10-23-2014, 09:02 AM
"Oh, come on. Another cross-dresser? And they expect us to believe this crap?" Steph rolled her eyes.

"Shh! I want to hear this," Chet said, eyes glued to the stage, instead of in his head where they belonged.

Celestia glared at the daemon. "You there! I wasn't finished --"

The daemon waved a hand at her, and her voice went silent. She tried again to speak, but no sound came out.

Well, that tears it, she thought, stepping over a vomit-encrusted stinky dude to get to the stage. That is just about enough. Time to show these cretins what Celestia Constellation Mc-Changing-My-Name is really capable of.

She pulled herself up onto the stage and pointed her finger dramatically at Blake/Frank/Frankie's back. Her eyes started to glow green as power surged in a surgy kind of way down her arm and collected in her finger.

That was when...

10-23-2014, 09:14 AM
...Solemn found the family computer, hidden stealthily in a hidden room behind one of the stalls of the bathroom she had just now fled. The secret door was cleverly concealed behind a tapestry depicting an ancient and powerful battle of Pong, and Solemn found it when she tore a piece of it down to use as a barricade against anything that might try to follow here. Tripping the cleverly-hidden switch, she dashed down the stairs and found the computer sitting unattended.

"Look," She said to herself, "I found the computer sitting unattended!"

Immediately, Solemn sat down and began to hack, and by that I mean type stuff really rapidly, because everyone knows that's how you hack.

She gasped as she found documents hidden in the mainframe behind a firewall guarded by a doohickey and password protection that would change everything.

"This changes everything!" She said. "The family fortune; my wicked stepmother's wicked plot; it all makse sense now! But how can I tell Voluptua?" She crossed her arms and pouted. "I mean... should I tell Voluptua, when she's already getting all the stupid attention anyway? I bet if I went up there with this stuff, nobody would listen to me anyway! Nobody ever listens to me!"

The ghost appeared beside Solemn. "I know who you can tell."

Dr. Dethmarch appeared on the other side. "Yeah, he knows who you can tell." He blinked. "You do?"

Solemn hacked some more, which this time meant she did something with a mouse and voice activation and apps and a virus. "There! Now the documents have been safetly mailed to some trusted contacts! But do you really know someone I can tell about this?"

It would be a pretty poor decision to trust these guys, but those were the kind s she was supposed to be making now, right?

"Here, take my smartphone," She said to Dr. Dethmarch. "I hacked it. Lead the way, ghost!"

10-23-2014, 11:31 AM
Endowed with information she was ill equipped to handle, Solemn made his/her was down to the castle courtyard.

There, glistening in the brilliant sunlight like the Ivory Coast, were Francine's brilliant chesticles.
"Oh Blake/Francine/Frank!" Solemn weapt purging tears, "I am not alone in my lack of gender anymore! It's you and I, love. Don't you see? We were meant to be together!"
"Yo, why the fuck are you holding a floppy disk?" Francis arched a manly eyebrow as he glanced at Solemn's new found treasure.
"Oh, shit. That has something to do with the family curse, I believe." Solemn said.

"It does." The ghost replied as he materialized about them. "In order to take over the castle, Voluptua must marry!11!"
I gasped. Marriage, me? But I've been such a pure-hearted, coy little girl all this time! How could someone as naive and sweet as I marry for the sake of riches? I tossed my gorgeous hair over my shoulder and batted my long, dark eye lashes, my bosom heaving.
"But who will I marry? And what am I to do about this strange rash?" I cried in frustration.

10-23-2014, 07:21 PM
Celestia Constellation McWhatever stalked out of the tower, finger extended, eyes glowing green. The daemon had defied her and refused to acknowledge her powers. Well, that red-headed loser would acknowledge them, all right, if it was the last thing she did. Voluptua would regret the day she'd pranced out of the tower with her manly girlfriend as though she, Celestia, were not pointing a surging finger at her.

"Celestia?" whined Steph. "This is so totally lame. Can we...."

Celestia still hadn't recovered her powers of speech, but she gave Steph a fierce elbow to the chest that sent her thumping back into Chet.

"Are you on the rag or something?" yelled Chet.

But Celestia did not hear them. She pointed her finger, now surging like mad and emitting green smoke, at that red-headed whore who was, as usual, creating massive amounts of drama. Celestia couldn't hear what the bitch was going on about now, but she was just as glad about that. She, Celestia, would give her something new to complain about.


"I suppose I can get a wedding gown that will cover the rash," I sighed, heaving my bosom and tossing my flowing red-gold mane. "And luckily my hair is always perfect. But, mercy, I have to arrange for flowers, send out invitations, oh, and find someone to marry." I cast longing emerald-green eyes at Blake/Frankie's beautiful cleavage. "Unless..."

The ghost shook his head. "Castle Ladeeda is technically in Scotland, which won't allow same-sex marriages until December 31, 2014. And per the terms of the curse, you must marry here, at Castle Ladeeda" -- he checked his watch -- "today."

"Today!" I screeched. "But where will I find a new man to marry today? Even Lyle is no longer a man! I don't think there's a living man in this plot anymore who isn't a blood relative!"


"I'll show that wench," thought Celestia. "She thinks she's so hot and sexy and bosom-heavy and hair tossy? Let's see how she likes this."

Green smoke shot out of Celestia's trembling finger and hit Voluptua smack in her voluptuous bosom. For a moment, Voluptua was engulfed in the green mist. When it cleared...

10-23-2014, 09:00 PM
Her hair had green highlights and was an inch longer. Voluptua didn't even notice, but the daemon did.

"Ah! I did not know you were the Old Man of the Forest. Since you are not human, the natural laws do not apply & we must abide by old Celtic customs."

"What are you talking about" Voluptua screamed, stamping her foot with a quivering lip. She ripped off her wig and threw it on the ground for extra measure, revealing...

10-23-2014, 10:07 PM
Another wig!

Randy was leafing through the script. There were so many crossings out and scribblings over the text that it made no sense at all. Some characters turned out to be others, all of them appeared to be crossdressing and the melodrama seemed to suffer a fatal car crash with suoernatural horror. A crash, he noted, involving Voluptua's car and a spanish-speaking barman.
"Hang on," he said, having an epiphany of sudden realisation. "There's nothing about bears in here..."

"You wear wigs? Not one, but plural?" Frankie or Blake said breathily, his or her chesticles heaving with every syllable. Voluptua felt a sudden impulse to tear the hair out of this wig. Heaving bosoms are my trademark, she thought with great anger. At least she still had the burning loins, which acted up and confused her further every time Frankie spoke in her deep, manly voice.
"So whose child am I carrying?" Voluptua shrieked, realising she should probably have asked this a while ago.

10-24-2014, 12:26 AM
"I think it's mine." Said the bear, who appeared to have manifested in physical form after the overuse of the word "bear" in phrases like "bear the burden" or "bear all" many paragraphs ago.
Volupta stomped her porcelain foot against the pavement. It went right through, having broken into a plot hole.
"My ankle! My beautiful, ivory skin!" She hollered.

"Well, the bear is male. I reckon you could marry the bear." The clymidious chost pondered.

"I think I broke my ankle!"

"Technically Solemn was male for at least a few chapters, and there's no law against marrying siblings, is there?"

"I hate you! You don't understand my feelings!" Solemn cried, her translucent skin turning a sickly white.

"Can we get back to my broken ankle?" Voluptua shrieked, her bosom bouncing with discontentment.

"Your ankle is fine!" Yelled Celestia, "The plot appears to have taken grievous injury, however."

"You might be able to marry Celestia." The ghost mused. "I have no idea what sex s/he may be. Hell, I have no idea where she even came from."

10-24-2014, 12:33 AM
The daemon cleared his enormous cloudy green throat with a deafening rumble.

"Actually, the baby's mine," he said, buffing his glowy green fingernails. "That torrid night you thought you had with Blake? Yeah, that was me. I've got that magic thing going on."

"It was you?" cried Voluptua, her loins burning and her chest heaving.

"You slept with Voluptua?" gasped Blake.

The daemon shrugged his immense misty green shoulders. "What can I say, I was drunk. We immortals do that kind of thing all the time, disguised as swans or whatever. Since she was so hot for you, I chose to disguise myself as you. But here's the thing --I'm paying child support for about 4,500 immortal demi-daemon children as it is, and enough is enough. Voluptua, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take care of this baby issue my own way. No hard feelings, though., OK?"

He pointed a casual glowy green finger at Voluptua.

Before the eyes of her astonished family, one-night-stands, and enemies, not to mention the ghosts, the remaining engagement party guests, and so forth, Voluptua's final wig fell off to reveal one of the worst cases of male pattern baldness ever seen in a twenty-something woman. Three day old stubble sprouted on her cheeks and a hefty sprinking of black hair sprung from her arms, legs and chest. Her voluptuous bosom heaved, then shrank into manly pectorals. She shot up six inches, and her shoulders spread. A distinct bulging appeared at the juncture of her -- now his -- burning loins.

"That should take care of the pregnancy thing," yawned the daemon.

10-24-2014, 12:38 AM
Voluptua awakend and turned to collect her new 'His' thoughts. He leaned against the stone balustrade and looked out, over the cliffs at the choppy and storm driven South Atlantic Ocean.

A movement caught his eye. Down on the storm driven beach two haggard, female-ish figures were dragging what was left of a raft onto the beach.

"OH NO!" she exclaimed, clutching a lace handkerchief to his heaving, blushing bosom, ' Huh...wha??? ANYWAY...Fetch me my binoculars, quickly!"

Blake and Celestia came to attention and raced to the antique box. But Randy was there first, and raced the binoculars to Voluptua who had quite forgotten about them and was using the ancient telescope on the battlements to view the storm splattered beach.

"OH NO!" He exclaimed again, and fell to the wet stones in a faint.

Blake snatched the binoculars from Celestia and gazed down on the battered and forlorn women struggling with an inflatable raft to which were attached 48 empty cans of diet soda.

"She's...He's right to be alarmed," Blake said in the gravest and blackest voice heard on this side of a dark and dismal abandoned swamp cemetery.
"Voluptua is right. We must needs flee! For up out of the ocean have come the dreaded Dee Baggia and her twin Dou Baggia."

"OH NO! exclaimed Solemn, "Save me! I don't want to be D.Bagged again!"

10-24-2014, 04:02 AM
Solemn wasn’t putting up with it this time. Locating Bertha’s discarded tommygun, she dove from the balcony. Just when it looked like she would hit the rocky terrain below, she extended a pair of high-tech wings hidden in her Angelic Pretty handbag.

Like dregged from the sea
This new mystery
Like stars flying free
In skies above

Out of nowhere, Solemn dodged bullets ridden by neon silhouettes of Cindy Crawford.

Like the ancient palace grand
And the shores are made of sand
Like waves crashing on dry land
In skies below

Supermodels in sparkling paint and bikinis did back-flips across a bridge made out of rifles over a river of champagne.

When I think I can’t love you
Then Obnoxiously, so Obnoxiously
You show me How-To!

The gunman had Solemn in his sights, but just before he pulled the trigger, she turned and shot him, turning red the view.

“That’s Fervor,” She said. “SOLEMN Fervor.”

10-24-2014, 04:19 AM
"Oh, that is IT!" snapped Celestia, whose pure, white-hot rage overcame the daemon's silence curse. "Nobody's even TRYING to stick to the plot now. Come on, guys, we're going to go home and conjure a real demon -- one without any pretentious 'a'."

"Yeah, I don't want to get turned into a woman," Chet said.

"Me neither," said Brad. "There's way too much gender-switching in this story already."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," said Chet.

"No, of course not," said Brad.

"Both of you shut UP," Celestia growled. She led the way out of the castle gates and back toward home.

10-24-2014, 05:17 AM
That's when Solemn had an epiphany:she was a true woman to the core, although her poor eyesight could not validate it and she secretly planned a trip to the optometrist.

Matt Damon drove his cute euro-hybrid furiously onto the scene to rescue someone, because clearly someone was in need of rescuing. He found a wayward chihuahua on the side of the road, and decided it was adorbs. He Scooped the chewy into his Fiat and drove away, on a mad and desperate quest to the nearest Pet-Co for doggie treats.

That's when Solemn realized she could never be as appealing as a puppy. This long and arduous life lesson told her that neither heaving bosoms nor enchantments or ghosts who had access to five inch floppy disks could show her the road to happiness.

She swept her shiny raven locks over her shoulder and walked away from the madness. Voluptua, Blake, all of them would be a part of her past. Her future lay ahead of her like a golden diamond, which would be golden and sound like Neil Diamond.

Solemn knew, from that time, she would strive to make things right, and serve Polar Pops at the Circle K, because they only cost 87 cents, and made the world a better place.
"Circle K!" she bellowed into the empty night, "Your dollar hotdogs and cheap carbonated beverages bring happiness to all! I shall follow your example and get a job with you, hoping to one day own my own part of the franchise!!!!"

10-24-2014, 08:07 AM
I gazed at Frankie/Blake and heaved my pectorals. I no longer had flowing titian hair to toss, and my bust line wasn't nearly as impressive as it was a few posts ago, but I still had my blazing emerald green eyes, and my loins still burned.

More to the point, I had only about 6 more hours in which to get engaged and married before I lost Castle Ladeeda. And now Frankie/Blake was a woman, and I was a man, so we could legally get married in Scotland, which, in case you forgot, is where Castle Ladeeda is located, and where, under the terms of the curse, I had to get married -- today, before midnight -- or my family would lose its ancient ancestral home. You might want to sticky this post if you think you're likely to forget any of this, because I really don't have time or patience to repeat it all again, not after the trauma of losing my voluptuous bosom and curling red-gold mane.

"Bla--Frankie. My love." I fell on one knee and took her hand. "I know things have been a little tumultuous lately, but will you marry me by midnight and help me break the curse on Castle Ladeeda? I mean, I think we might still have to flee, what with the platoon of D. Baggias arriving on the shore, but maybe we could do a quick ceremony and head straight out for the honeymoon."

She fluttered her manly eyes and heaved her manly cleavage. "Oh, Voluptua -- er, am I still supposed to call you that?"

I narrowed my emerald eyes and glared. "You have a problem with that?"

"No. No problem. Just checking. Yes. Oh, yes. Yes, my darling, I will marry you."

The assembled ghosts broke into applause.

"Finally," said the hot ghost who'd whisked Solemn and the plot to the tower about 60 posts ago, "Finally, we have some damn resolution to this freaking story."

"Not so fast," said Bertha.

10-24-2014, 09:59 AM
"Then it shall have to be a slower marriage," the ghost said. "Will that satisfy?"
"Yes," the manticore thing that used to be a woman (maybe) nodded enthusiastically, accidentally piercing its lip with a row of teeth.
"We don't have time to be slow!" Voluptua stamped a size 12 foot, wedged into her... his... Voluptua's high heel, no doubt because of the demon-
"Daemon, damn it."
'Daemon' commanded it. Nobody else commented that this large bloke was wedged into women's clothing too small for him, but only the chihuahua, Randy and a few of the ghosts were still the same gender they had started with.
"I shall officiate," Edgar Stumblebutt IV drifted down, having finally finished his speech. "As Lord of the manor until lady... err... the protagonist takes over, it is fitting."
"Didn't we cover that with my law degree?" Voluptua's burning hadn't gone but was joined by a new and rather awkward experience for all concerned.
"And a few posts ago you were a pregnant woman. Shush up. Ladies and gentlemen-"
"What about me?" Bertha asked, applying plasters to every pierce wound.
"I don't classify as either of those, either," 'Daemon' added.
"Just bear with me," Edgar shuffled his notes around. A remarkable feat, considering they were paper. Come to think of it, where did they even come from?

10-24-2014, 06:15 PM
The dark darkness descended. It was so dark that no-one could see how dark it was. Dark. Dark dark dark......... Dark like the evil heart of Br...Vol....Sol...... I'm sorry, who's left in this now?

Anyway, it was bloody dark.

10-24-2014, 06:58 PM
..and it was a freaking storming night as you could have well guessed after looking out the window in Scotland and being able to see the crests of the waves in the South Atlantic alllllll the way down off the coast of Brazil.

The entire cast of 'Twilight' had finally arrived, being the only ones to whom the wedding planner had sent any invitations.

Everyone took their seats and the Chihuahua, 'Chico' as we were calling him today, had several spools of heavy surgical thread and a needle - just incase anyone opened their mouths to object.

A smarmy guy attempted to drive up to the castle in a new Toyota, but the vegan vampire gargoyles took care of him immediately.

10-24-2014, 07:49 PM
I couldn't possibly get married in the outfit I was currently wearing, which had torn a la Incredible Hulk when I'd morphed into a man. And I wasn't about to let Blake/Frankie (hereinafter "B/F") do so either. Not to mention the various entities who'd agreed to be in the wedding party. A change of apparel was essential.

So, despite the storm, the dark darkness, the approaching D.Baggias, the looming deadline, the distinct possibility of paranormal intervention, and my fractured ankle, I ran back to the house on my long, slim, elegant, hairy legs with B/F at my side and a train of ghosts, mythical entities, and bedraggled cross-dressers to find something more appropriate.

As soon as I reached my closet, I realized I had a major problem, since although of course I had packed a stunning custom-made wedding gown just in case, I could no longer zip it up. For that matter, not one of my evening frocks would fit my 6'4" frame. B/F faced the reverse problem with his own wardrobe. And forget about the bridesmaids. Bertha wasn't going to fit into the puce bridesmaids gowns I'd picked out when I was twelve and kept in the attic, or anything else, for that matter.

I threw my slim, lovely, somewhat hairy hands over my stubbly face and sobbed my emerald green eyes out. What could we do? I'd watched hundreds of bridal shows and as was perfectly obvious, if we couldn't find the perfect garments, we couldn't possibly get married.

10-24-2014, 08:35 PM
Just then Solemn arrived from the Circle K with a group of sickly-looking teenagers and a couple of boxes.

"Hey, look what I brought as a present?" She opened the boxes and inside was the most scrumptuous assortment of Renee Strauss and Vera Wang wedding clothes ever.

"But who are these people with you?" I asked.

"Oh, this is the Mysterious Undefined Illness Club," Solemn said. "They work with me. In the back is Pale McLashes. She faints whenever the plot gets too intense. Next to her is Uriah Threepointer, who's mysterious undefined illness is threatening his basketball scholarship and straining his relationship with his materialistic girlfriend. So he's been spending more time with Daniella Lemur, right there, who sleepwalks into plot points. Up front is their leader, Jack Soulful. He's studied a lot of philosophy and is wise beyond his years because he never knows when his mysterious undefined illness will strike. Anyway, are these outfits good enough?"

I wanted to ask how she'd managed to afford them on her budget, but if that had been a problem, she couldn't have afforded what she was wearing, either.

10-24-2014, 09:26 PM
I heaved my pectorals. My loins burned as I pulled the gorgeous Renee Strauss wedding gown out of the box. It looked like a perfect fit, extra tall and extra wide in the shoulders. And one of the Vera Wang bridesmaids gowns was tailored for a manticore. I had to admit that Solemn had hit it out of the park this time. But still...

"You can't bring all of these people to my wedding," I snapped. "I don't have place-cards for them, or anything. They'll have to leave, stat."

Solemn stomped his foot. "That's it. I've had it. I pulled a freaking miracle out of a box for you, and all you can do is --"

I smacked him across the face. "And what about flowers? I need flowers."

"You could use the flowers from my engagement party," offered Bertha.

"And the Castle Ladeeda estate is practically lousy with flowers," said B/F. "I mean, weren't you waxing rhapsodic about them in one of your first posts in this thread?"

It was my turn to stomp my foot, and I added in a chest heave for good measure. "Are you all idiots? They don't match the bridesmaids' gowns. I can't possibly use them." I burst into tears. "Oh, god. Life is So. Difficult. Where oh where is David Tutera when I need him?"

10-24-2014, 09:43 PM
Just then, as suddenly as a sudden thing, the clock struck!
Voluptua's head was spinning, for the clock's attack had spun his around. He stumbled, fell towards the moldy planks sealing off one side of the belltower...
Voluptua grabbed the edge, watching one of his fake nails fall away. Above, Solemn was cackling with evil intent.
"My incredibly suspect, possibly-chance plan has succeeded! Now I shall marry B/F and take the estate out from under your shallow, manly nose!"
B/F looked on in horrified horror as Voluptua's grip began to slip, but she was so scared with terrification that she couldn't move to help. In the background, one of Solemn's cronies had swooned.
"I can't die here," Voluptua was deprived of her usual mannerisms, so settled for a military-grade pout. "I'm the main character!"
Solemn disappeared and returned seconds later, brandishing the killer clock.
"It looks like your... time is up!"

10-24-2014, 10:00 PM
I clutched at B/F's heaving bosoms and gasped a gasp that no romantic hero/heroine had ever gasped in the history of gasping and passed out, cold, on the deep sherpa pile rayon blend oriental carpet in front of the makeshift altar in front of the wedding guests.

"But wait," said B/F, freeing Voluptua's hands from his/her intense double D's, " This clock is on BEIJING time!"

10-24-2014, 10:46 PM
"Beijing time?" repeated Solemn. "WTF? Well, does the curse specify any particular time zone?"

The hot ghost spoke up. "No, it just says midnight today. No time zone."

I fluttered my emerald green eyes back to consciousness in time to transcribe the foregoing lines and to pipe up with a legal opinion. "If the curse is silent as to time zone, it's implicit that the agreed-upon time zone is the time zone in which the curse was first cast and/or where the curse will take effect."

The hot ghost nodded. "That makes sense, considering it's legal gibberish. FYI, it's Scotland for both."

"So that means it's only 5 pm, and we still have seven hours to buy flowers!" My pectorals heaved joyfully.

10-24-2014, 10:47 PM
"But that must mean... that the time is Chinese!" B/F gazed intensely into the middle distance, slightly cross-eyed.
"That it is," the ghost said very deeply, causing more loinal burning in Voluptua. "And it doesn't have immigration papers."
"What does that mean, my dear husband/wife-to-be?" Voluptua tried clinging on again, but B/F pushed him/her away.
"It means for this to be perfect, we need to find Scottish time."
"But where would we find such time?"
"I do not know. We shall have to call the best detective in the land to find it. We'll just have to bear with it..."

10-24-2014, 11:32 PM
Meanwhile, in Beijing:

"But Mei Shei, my darling turnip, you know I love you and only you! Why else would I have built this replica of a famous Scottish Castle, complete with a stone covered beach and a view of the stormy South Atlantic off the East Coast of Brazil? in the middle of the Gobi Desert?"

"Yes, Ming...you did. And you are the emperor. But before I marry you, "Mei Shei said with her triple E bosoms heaving so mightily that it took two servants under each just to keep her upright, "before I marry you, I must have all of the flowers in SCOTLAND!!!!!!"

10-24-2014, 11:33 PM
Sherlock pushed Poirot out of the way. 'He means me, you French buffoon!'

'I am Belgian, you English upper class geek!'


10-25-2014, 12:37 AM
"wtf?" said Solemn, reverting to lower-case teenage text speak. "nun uv these posts make sense n they all conflict n i dont no wat 2 say cuz i think if we R in scotland we dont need 2 look 4 scotish time n wtf iz up with those chinese peeps in teh garden n whoz teh french dude --"

"Belgian!" said Poirot, twirling his famous mustache. "I am Belgian! Not French. Why is this so difficult for you English to remember?"

"Because, sir, no one cares," retorted Sherlock. He took a quick snort of cocaine before continuing. "We already have the finest detective in Britain on the case, namely myself."

"Pfffft," said Miss Marple, or Ms. Marple, as she preferred to be called. "My village parables knock the pants off your heroin-muddled delusions about cigarette ashes and half-melted butter. Heaven knows you solved most of your cases by pure luck."

Randy lurched into the room, sans bear costume but still reeking of vomit. "Did someone say..."

"NO!" shouted B/F, knocking Randy unconscious with a single brutal swing of the killer clock. Then she stamped her foot, because it was her turn to do so. "But why do we need detectives at all? I'm happy to stipulate that it is currently --" she consulted her watch -- "5:15 pm Edinburgh time here at Castle Ladeeda. Which means we have 6 hours and 45 minutes to find flowers, get married, save the estate, and end this thing. Is everyone good with that?"

The daemon shrugged. "Fine with me."

The ghosts all nodded. Bertha was smoking a hookah and gazing out the window, so she counted as a yes. Solemn was silently crying in a corner, but everyone ignored him, as usual. Lyle/stepmother had stepped out for a quick botox injection before the ceremony. And everyone else had either marched away in disgust or was wandering around the estate trying to pick up plot points they'd missed.

"Great," said B/F. "So we don't need a detective."

Poirot twirled his mustache. "There I am afraid you are wrong, mon amie. You will need me to find the flowers."

"Pfffft." I heaved my pectorals and rolled my emerald green eyes. "Scotland is filled with flower shops, and they deliver."

Poirot shook his head. "That may once have been true, my friend. But no longer, I fear. For every bud in Scotland has been plucked and shipped to Beijing."

10-25-2014, 02:47 AM
My eyes widened...."What? Who..."

The daemon raced to the fridge. Finding it stocked with his favorite, basic , American brew, he relaxed...

...and that was when the Tardis appeared, displacing the altar and ruining the bunting. An odd gentleman stepped out.

"Dr Who, actually."

10-25-2014, 06:54 PM
"Why is there a blue telephone box in my drawing room?" I stamped my foot and heaved my pectorals. "Get it out of here. It clashes with the bridesmaid's dresses."

The Doctor twiddled his bow tie and looked confused. "Excuse me. I may have landed in the wrong place. Isn't this Amy Pond's wedding?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's my wedding."

B/F shouted from inside the telephone box. "Voluptua! You have to see this thing! It's bigger on the inside than on the outside!"

"Well, have you by chance seen Amy?" asked the Doctor. "Amelia Pond? Scottish girl, ginger hair, feisty, rather annoying at times, getting married today?'"

"That totally sounds like you, Voluptua," said Bertha. "Or rather, it did sound like you."

I stamped my foot again, because that is what I do when I'm angry. "Look, can we focus here? All the flowers in Scotland are gone, and we've only got six hours left to find them."

Poirot pulled out a pocket watch. "There I am afraid you are mistaken. You have not taken into account the time between posts or the time-space continuum. I'm afraid you have only twelve short minutes in which to find flowers and conduct the ceremony, mes amis."

10-25-2014, 07:50 PM
Poirot and Holmes were still arguing when their arguing was brought to a halt by a strange figure that pushed between them with some kind of produce cart.

"Who was that?" Poirot asked.

"I don't know," Sherlock said, "But in spite of her attractive face and groovy outfit, I felt an odd chill when she walked by. Hmm... this bears investigating!"


Solemn walked the lonely shoreline, really bummed. Nobody ever listened to her or appreciated it when she did stuff. Why, even her wicked stepmother had never even thrown her so much as a thank you for all her hard work. She'd only ever found some way her cleaning, cooking, and horse-stall shoveling was imperfect.

"It's not fair!" Solemn yelled.

The D. Baggia's surrounded her. At this point, she didn't care. It was pointless. Everything was pointless. Even those stakes Bertha fired at her were pointless, and that's why she'd survived them so easily... and, even more importantly, so had her outfit.

"Goodbye, cruel world!" Solemn yelled. She remembered Cruel World. It starred Kim Basinger and had been made in the middle ages or something.

Just then, a silhouette appeared between her and the two D.Baggia monsters and with one mighty, epic-level slap the likes of which she'd never seen before, knocked them both clean back into the water.

Standing in front of Solemn was the most stunning woman she'd ever seen. She had amazing long blonde hair, a gorgeous Nanette Lepour leopard-print handbag with matching Jimmy Choo heels, and the absolute grooviest vintage apricot corduroy CoCo Chanel peacoat-dress ever sold on consignment. Secondhand stuff was usually gross, but not when it was that retro and vintage.

Solemn felt an odd chill, but she assumed it was just the wind off the sea. I mean, with an outfit that groovy, how could she possibly be a bad person?

Besides, she had- and Solemn couldn't believe her eyes- a cart full of perfect flowers!

"ZOMG!!" Solemn said. "U have to sell me those. Name ur price. Even with the family fortune in danger and me working at a gas station and nobody else having any kind of visible means of support at all, money is no object!"

"These flowers?" The groovy mystery woman asked, quirking her delicate penciled eyebrow. "You noticed that giant honking biohazard symbol on the side, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't know what it means."

"It means they're extremely poisonous and likely to slaughter everything in a three-mile radius should they be removed from these glass cases." She shrugged. "But hey, if you want them, truth be told I was gonna set them off here anyway."


I shoved Voluptua out of the POV position again and stormed onto the shore alongside that delightfully handsome Mr. Holmes.

"How dare you show your face here again, after everything!" I hissed.

"How dare I?" Said the imperious Ms. Mystery imperiously. "I had to drop everything and make an emergency trip here after my informants disclosed my long-lost missing daughter had finally been located, and when I show up, what do I find? You! Mistreating my poor dear sweet little girl!"

"Me?" I hissed. "I made her clean some stuff and sleep in an uncool bedroom. You threw her in a tank of live great white sharks!"

"I did that out of love! To build character! It is so totally not the same thing!"

Solemn choked. "Y-you mean you're..."

"Yes," I hissed. "She's your real mother."

Dr. Dethmarch was terrified to discover, when he and the band attempted to play another rousing tune, their instruments were incapable of producing anything but disco.

"And that's not all," Sherlock Holmes said. "That tiny bloodstain she hasn't managed to remove from her Jimmy Choo shoes indicates she is that evil spy that has been so relentlessly pursued by MI6, the NSA, Wal-Mart Parking Lot Security, and every country that's on planet Earth and probably some that aren't."

She rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. I had the last guy who hadn't managed to figure that out executed sometime in 1992."

Said man popped onscreen to say, "No, I survived th-"

Ms. Mystery shot him.

"I'm still not-"

So she shot him six more times.

"Roar!" Said Randy. She shot him, too. Fortunately, the bear suit deflected the blow.

Solemn stamped her foot. "I can't believe you even care about any of this unimportant crap when we're going to lose the family fortune and be cursed if Voluptua can't get married in... eleven and a half minutes! Concentrate on the important part... CAN WE USE THESE FLOWERS OR NOT?"

10-26-2014, 12:38 AM
Solemn's long-lost mother just began to ominously reach for the super-handy flowers when a loud crack of thunderous sound zinged through the air and a boxy grayish car that had seen better days landed on the beach, leaving a trail of fiery tire tracks in its wake.

"Don't, for the totally platonic love of your manly looking sister, take those flowers!"

The rest of the party, having now joined Solemn, Randy the still-breathing but really needs to exit stage left bear, and whoever the heck else is on the beach at this point, gasped in wildly surprised exclamations of shock at the boy in the letter jacket who jumped out of the super unstylish car next to a crazy haired man in a lab coat.

Solemn eyed the boy with faint interest. Something about that raven haired bowl cut was starting to make his/her loins burn with a burning sensation that had nothing whatsoever to do with Voluptua's rampant rash and set his/her heart to pounding wildly and his/her ears buzzing, even more than the shock of finding his/her long lost mother.

"Who are you?" Solemn breathed with a faint flutter of fingertips upon the salty sea air.

"Totally not wicked important right now. Right now, you need to step away from the flowers before - "


Everyone jumped as yet another young effeminate looking man stepped out next to another wild crazy haired doctor. The sound of the second car crashing into the first one had been woefully lost in the crashing sea waves crashing heavily against the sea shore, drowning out the sounds of Voluptua's wails as time inexorably ticked away towards the final hour when all was lost.

"Who are you?" Solemn breathed again. He/she stared in confusion when Randy handed over a paper bag in concern.

"I'm you, you moron. I'm from the future and I'm here to tell you that you need to get those flowers because otherwise you are about to mess with the space-time continuum in a wicked bad way here."

"But, you have a bowl hair cut and a letter jacket!" Solemn hyperventilated in horror.

"Look, there are totally more important concerns here like - "


"This is worse than the bear screwing up his lines," Blake/Frank muttered with a heave of his chesticles in disgust.

"Who are y-"

"Oh shut up with the questions, we're all you and we're from the future to tell you that you need to - "

"Wait, I was here from the future first so I should be the one to - "

"Just because you were here first doesn't mean you should - "

"Is ANYONE going to take the darn flowers so I can marry my manly man now woman who is still a very handsome manly woman in time to take the Castle because"


Everyone turned yet again like a scene from the Exorcist to find the Chihuey, tapping a paw in irritation against the now clawed up god awful future cars pileup. The little pup took another fortifying sip of whisky before growling in adorably cute growls at the crowd.

"I leave you for...however many dozen posts now and look what a mess you've made - the bear is still here, there are doctors running around everywhere, several detective blokes who are twirling mustaches and talking about the Hounds of Baskerville, and I can't even tell who was talking for the last however many lines since there are no dialogue tags!"

"Why did you have to leave, pup?" Voluptua heaved her delectably broad shoulders.

The chihuey sighed. "Never should have trusted that Matt Damon character with his doggie treats. Next thing I know, I'm in Wisconsin in the back of some guy's van with a bunch of boxes and two duct-taped girls. Luckily, I jumped out the conveniently unlocked back door and hitched a ride with this guy."

Everybody turned, AGAIN, to eye the sleek Astin Martin, and the suave, trim man leaning against it with a martini, shaken not stirred, in his hand and a mysterious air about him.

"Who are - "

The pup cut off Solemn mid-question. "Don't ask. Please. Just don't ask." He glared at his/her's gasping little tirade before turning to the unruly crowd. "All right, your undead godfather has arrived. Voluptua, glad to see you're still wearing those uber-stylish but super uncomfortable heels. Click them three times for me, luv."

Voluptua tossed her (is it still titian?) hair over her broad shoulders and clicked her heels. Suddenly, the detectives, car pileup, Doctor Who, vampires and other random extraneous characters who for the love of gold should never appear again disappeared in a poof of smoke. Voluptua gasped, putting a rather hairy hand to her expansive chest. "Haggis, you've outdone yourself!"

The chihuey waggled his brows. "Yeah....yeah, and I even turned the clocks back an hour for you. So, let's get this show on the road and get you married so I can have a dance with the bride!"

Just as they all turned for hopefully the final freaking time to the Castle, a freak storm burst overhead, pelting them with rain pellets and soaking them through to the very bone. As if that weren't bad enough, a teeth-shaking wail of utter despair and spooky foretelling rang throughout the verdant hillsides.

Everyone turned again (please, shoot the narrator now) to the chihuey, the sage of all things. "That, my friends, was the wail of a banshee." He paused ominously. "That means someone really really important to this plot is about to die."

Everyone turned for the last time (better be the last bloody time) to look at Voluptua.

10-26-2014, 06:23 PM
[[seems like there hasn't been another response for awhile, so I'm going to write a terrible ending - hey, it can always just be ignored. Or get a sequel. Or turn into a nightmare where rocks fall and everybody dies.]]

The wedding was a grand affair that lasted in revelry through the night. It went on for pages and pages, and every single cup of champagne, stitch in the tablecloths, and article of clothing was obsessively parsed. There was dancing, presents, and flowers (even though they had to remain under glass). It was magic that described description, and even if it didn't, soon after the banshee wailed, Ms. Mystery got off one last shot and hit the narrator, who turned out to have been the real Lyle Fainting, imprisoned by Solemn's Wicked Stepmother, before that Astin Martin finally caught up with her.

And at last, shortly after the miracle kiss broke the family curse forever, Voluptua woke up and realized it had all been a dream.

10-26-2014, 09:43 PM
Meanwhile in Beijing:

"What are all of these FLOWERS!!!?? I wanted to bake bread! I need FLOUR!!


....be it wheat, barley or (cue sinister music dah dah dah DAH)


10-26-2014, 10:17 PM


10-28-2014, 05:05 AM
Chapter XxxMVIXx!

The Big Musical NUMBER!

The flower girl, seemingly secondary until JUST NOW! Rallied all of the characters on a sound stage with ravens and horticulture. She tapped her dainty foot: two, three fore!
Everyony gathered in a circle and broke into Irish Step Dancing. Voluptua did an awesome solo before breaking into song:
"Did you suspeeeect?
T'was not a wreccccckkkkk!
I got some tulips!
Can you read my lips?"

Blake sang in a manly tenor:
"I feel confuuuuuused! Somewhat abuuuuuused! But I'll have tea at three, oh, let me be,
And speak of loins no moooooooooooore!" (dot dot dot)

10-28-2014, 05:09 AM
Now that Voluptua and Blake/Frankie are joined in holy wedlock, and Castle Ladeeda is safe, perhaps some of you might enjoy contributing to a fantasy-horror romance, which we've started just in time for Halloween.

Link in my sig, if you're interested

10-28-2014, 05:32 AM
Oh no! Does that mean the Big Musical Number is out?

10-28-2014, 05:35 AM
Well, there's going to be music in the Fifty Shades of Bane, so you might be able to write the protagonist's lines when he pulls out his accordion, Bronco. Hmm...yeah...maybe a spoof on "Dem Bones"? (See intro plot and you'll know why I'm rolling on the floor laughing as I write that.)

10-28-2014, 05:44 AM
I love a big musical number!

10-29-2014, 09:09 AM
I love a big musical number!

--- I was going to sing 'Lobe on the Rocks'--hey, Neil Diamond is a multi-faceted character...BWAHAHAHA! I make a funny! BWAHAHAHA---but decided not to.

Where were we? Ah yes, the story.

My sweaty hands explored the countours of her Butt-Blastered, highly overdeveloped tushy, reaching into the folds and crevices of the overhanging rounded wall that begged for a gluteal spanking of epic proportions.

"T'is not the time yet," she fluttered, her eyes sending signals of tonight's under a full-moon soon-to-happen consummation of desire. "Shalt thou not wait?"

"I cannot wait, my lady," I cried, tearing open the lacy yet oh-so-vexing-to-be-opened bodice that cradled her bosom like egg cups at breakfast. "I shall take you here and now!"

"We are in the bathroom," she said...

Oh...do continue, AW-ers.