I'd like to take a stab at it ...Or this one,She sauntered in with a last glance at the poster taped to the door's window: Professor Pahn, Teller of Fortunes and Maker of Miracles.
I had to condense both. The first needed it. The second I'm not so sure about.I've always heard voices. As a kid they were whispers, static in my attention span. I never mentioned them. Why would I?
Randy M.
Been a while since I had a go:
I have refused to use abbreviation ever since the day I sent my son to buy a TV magazine and he returned with "Transvestite Monthly".The Messiah returned to our world. We worshipped until the novelty wore off, then derided her until she knew she was beaten.I decided to only smoke after a fight. Pretty soon I had a forty-a-day habit.We waited for bacteria to kill the aliens, until we got bored, and rammed a five-hundred-mega-tonne nuke up their tail pipe.The ultimatum read: "Surrender or die."
We responded: "C. None of the above."
They conquered us, but we went down laughing."Put your hands in the air!" demanded the robbers. "Now wave them like you just don't care!"
Oh no. The infamous Disco Gang.
Last edited by Hoodwink; November 18th, 2009 at 06:22 AM.
I'm still laughing.
-- WB
Okay, time to try....
"Never let it be said that blue ribbons are difficult to win. Consider the night of the goiter competition."
Hoodwink - where the heck do you come up with this stuff? The infamous Disco Gang? Too funny.
Window Bar - that's just sick! But does make me want to read more.
Okay...here's yet another pathetic attempt from me:
When his father spoke, Andreas looked up from his sketches. The words bounced around in his head, not finding a home.
"Pardon me?"
Okay...scratch the last one...how about:
Any better?Andreas wondered how he would kill his father's 'bat-woman'.
"Why?" she asked herself. "Why?" she wept. "Why?" she demanded of the heavens.
"Woof!" replied her basset hound.
And so, at last she knew.
___________
(24 words. Whew!)
So this was armeggeddon. Somehow I thought there would be more hoopla.
Ha! Guess we are missing the party.
Very interesting thread. Reminded me of a fictional story I want to write, loosely based upon a real person I know, that starts like this,
Those eyes reflected epochs of untold sorrow born of a quiet rage. A rage originating in an incomparable determination exhausted by an inexorable frustration.
Hmm...rage on PeterWilliam.
Here's one.
I hear that at Princeton, they refer to doctors as "Mister". Wow, it's a wonder more Princeton students don't die during simple surgeries.
When it was time to leave, my new leather shoes were gone. I chose a fine pair of horseshoes and nailed them in place.
Been a while, but I'll try one.
Nano-sequencers could be such little bitches when they dont get their own way...
ok this is my first attempt so dont judge too harshly
"Finally," she whispered in relief, only to look in the mirror and realize that he was behind her. almost as if he'd never left.
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