Bad To The Bone

MacAl Stone

The Bulwer-Lytton contest has its own cult following--and there is a certain seductive quality to really bad--er, no--very, very, very bad writing...

I'm sure some of you already see where I'm going with this :grin

so c'mon, Writers, what's the worst damage you can do to the language? How really awful can you be? Shake it up, mix your metaphors, confuse your verb-tenses, confound your readers...but still tell a story.

Then post it on a public board for all the world to see :rofl
BWAHHAHAHahahahahahaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
 

reph

Mac, why don't we save ourselves a lot of trouble and declare you the winner right now? Nothing can beat your Doom Dragon story.
 

MacAl Stone

awwwwww--Reph, that's so sweet to say...But I KNOW it isn't true, you can write MUCH worse than me...

errr

that didn't come out quite right...:hug
 

Yeshanu

Have you had a look at my latest creation on the "New Game" thread? :grin
 

batyler65

Rosalee stormed into the room, like a really big storm with hurricane force winds and rain that would remind one of cats and dogs, if one was an animal lover, which she wasn't.

She waved the report card under her brother's nose like it were a very large and bright carrot dangling in front of the proverbial stubborn and braying donkey.

"I'm telling mom," she said in her annoying sing-song voice. Brendan thought of it as sing-song because mostly she had in the past used it for singing songs. Mostly the theme from Gilligan's Island, but she knew other ones too also. "You flunked your english class again," she chortled through her nose, and possible her ears as well, if chortling was something she could do through her ears, that is. Which it might be.

*pause here for breath*

"So, tell her," said Brendan boredly. He really didn't give a big rat's rear end or front parts for that matter, about his failings in the class of english. He was gonna be a writer one day and it didn't matter what that Mr. Eggers said about his ability to construct coherent sentences that formed a single thought that wasn't about football and stuff.

Suddenly, an alien invasion swept out of the sky but not like sweeping with brooms, more like the sweeping of a very gigantic Vacuum Cleaner of DOOM sucking the astonishment from the viewers on the ground below. The alines with their MIGHTY gigantic heads beamed down out of the sky and opened the kitchen door.

The explosions rocked the earth like giant balls of flatulence extruded from the Very Mighty Rear End of the Creator Himself.

[Okay, somebody else must take over now. I think I hurt myself] :ack

Edited to correct Vacuum Cleaner of DOOM.
 

LiamJackson

The man hid behind the car and I heard a loud boom as a bullet raced by my ear. I squeezed the trigger and watched flame lick out from the barrel. Except, it's not really a barrel. You couldn't put pickles in it. Well, maybe those baby jerkins. Ha! I said jerkin! No, it's more like a short piece of pipe encased in some kind of metallic housing. Not that anyone lives in there. Too small. The rent would be soooo low but there's no place for an entertainment center or my waterbed. Besides, how could you stand the flames licking out the end? But, do flames really lick? Does fire have a sense of taste? I've seen some really well-dressed fires, so I suppose they do. But I think most fires would be homebodies, if they had bodies...and a home.
Wait a minute. The guy behind the car is asking me to shoot him.
 

maestrowork

Lacey slid down the long curvy smooth (like ice cream sundae on a very hot moist day) sliding banister when I caught her in a frilly pink dress exposing her creamy breasts like two scoops of cherry ice cream on a very hot moist day. My groin felt like a fireball in east Texas where my good friend Miguel once told me women were like strawberries with whipped cream even though I wasn't sure what he really meant. Even though I was really diabetic I couldn't help but think about smooth creamy ice cream on a hot moist day. Anyway, Lacey crashed into my arms like a lumpy wet blanket and I suddenly realized I was in pain. Sixty two hours of yearning for a woman so divine as Lacey the beauty queen from west Texas where the flowers didn't grow until the sky said "Hello, soldiers!" would do something to a soldier as virile as I was after earning three purple heart and a medal of honor for saving my best friend's Miguel's life. All we really wanted on that fateful day was a scoop of peach ice cream.
 

MacAl Stone

:rofl :snoopy :ha
I just KNEW ya'll couldn't resist for long...I'' put something up when I get home from work tonight

fair is fair, and all :ack
 

maestrowork

Barb started it!

Crap, now I can't write today. I don't think I'd have anything to submit tonight, Lori! Oh wait, I submitted crap before, so what's the difference, right?
 

Pthom

After reading your latest submission, maestro, I can't write either.
 

Lori Basiewicz

Eh. What's your current working title, Maestro? CTN, I believe. No excuses.

32 minutes remaining
 

MacAl Stone

Re: Just couldn't help myslef....

Right, then, Akbad told himself, without saying anything out loud. He straightened in the saddle of his mighty black destrier-steed and sallied forth onto the battlefield, banners waving gaily from the tip of his lance making a brilliant splash of color against the bare, dun-colored sand. Spurring the horse mercilessly, slashing and hacking at it’s heaving sides with his mailed and booted and spur-studded heels, the steed soon galloped at full-blast toward the Doom Dragon.

The enourmous, dread beast turned it’s mighty head to watch the tiny figure of horse and rider approach, dragged in a long breath, and released a mighty gout of blue flame-jet that instantly seared Akbad’s flesh from his bones and boiled his dripping sweat inside the inconvenient armor. Eldor turns to run, but far too late to effect his escape. The next gout of flame polished him off toasted like a marshmallow held to close to the fire.

The Doom Dragon regarded the princess Marion cynically, then glomped his enormous jaws right over her, leaving only one tiny pink-slippered foot and cutting her scream off quite abruptly. “They just never learn,” he says, shaking his big, massive, huge head.

:rofl
 

reph

Re: Just couldn't help myslef....

That Mac is such a showoff, isn't she?
 

MacAl Stone

Re: Just couldn't help myslef....

What, Ray--you really thought I was gonna embarrass myself like that TWICE?
:rollin
 

IMAGEBBER

Here is my Bull...

Her red hair exploded into wild strands of shock seemingly knotted up but actually secured neatly with twist ties from a thousand old bread wrappers. Her green eyes glowed hot and neon like those new blue headlights that actually ARE the brightest bulbs in the forest. Her white lips cackled a staccato schizofrenzied laugh as if the writing on the trees was legible. Her yellow nails begged, “Paint me! Paint me!” but she bit them off in mid sentence. Her orange whatchamacallit hung open. She grabbed the microphone and tearfully sang, “Song Sung Blue.”
 

MrAngelwithnowings

i dont know what i'm doing

(This message was left blank)
 

sugarmuffin

Re: i dont know what i'm doing

The car was a car but it wasn't a car. It was a spaceship from Sirius. And it was in Cleveland. Six aliens got out and breathed carefully. "Jeez, this place stinks," said the alien king.
"And I've smelled just about every planet in this galaxy." "Do we have to stay, Brave-Alien-King-Who-Has-Smelled-Everywhere?" Alien Junior was nervous. "I mean, you can't rollerskate in a buffalo herd, right?" The other aliens shuffled 'round him and stared.Their greenness bounced off his greenness so they all looked more green, or even greener than that. Alien Junior chortled. "One o'clock at the glue factory!" Alien the Second shook his very conical head, and put a thought blocker helmet on Junior's very conical head. "He's absorbing thought waves from the locals, again. I hate when that happens." Alien Junior, gasping, shouted, "We are family--I've got all my sisters and me," and then, "Have a nice day!" He tossed his alien cookies into the air, and the other aliens caught them all, lock, stock and barrel.

:p


Gosh, that felt great. -- Lisa
 

Yeshanu

Re: i dont know what i'm doing

he, he, he...

Story ideas from the banner ads: Antichrist or Alien? Aliens vs Predators... I'll be back soon. :grin
 
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