Bad Writing Game--Win Some GOLD!

[Sorus]

Threads don't die, they just go dormant until someone revives them.

[sgt.null]

is this thread dead?

it is pining for the fjords.

[Linna Heartbooger]

Sorry for not supporting this thread!
I have an idea that maybe wants me to write it, but I don't want to write it write now..

is this thread dead?

it is pining for the fjords.

[deer of the dawn]

Pining for the Fords: A Comic Book Proposal

A pale-eyed skinhead broods over tall cliffs and cold bays in which dragon-prowed ships row toward home, loaded with plunder from distant coasts.

"If I only had a pickup truck, I could haul more booty home," he mutters.

A slender figure, blond hair tangled in intricate braids, appears over the brow of the hill. "Gunrack!" he greets her.

"Raghead," she cries, "Come and see what the raiders have brought with them!"

They leap like deer down the rocks to the shore, where a massive Dodge Ram is being offloaded onto the grey sands. Already, bloody symbols are being painted on the side, drums are beating.

Raghead broods. "It's not quite right..."

Thus begins the Nordic saga of Raghead and his band of Viking warriors in their epic quest for horsepower. Men and women fight side-by-side, equally spattered with the blood of hapless peasants and helmeted Angle warriors. Among the pine trees, endless cycles of conquest and revenge play out while romantic intrigues capture the hearts of pagan and Christian alike. Amazing poses are struck and bloodcurdling war cries in mega-bold typeface are strewn over page after gory page. It will leave you... pining for the Fords.

[Linna Heartbooger]

"Pining for the Fords"

Amazing poses are struck and bloodcurdling war cries in mega-bold typeface are strewn over page after gory page.

All I can say to that is, "Game on!"
Which game, you ask?

World of Warcraft Heroes

Something strange is happening in a small, ordinary midwestern suburb. The youth are... discontented, detached.. distracted. Their collective obsession with World of Warcraft is well-known to the entire town. Even folks who scarcely touch a keyboard themselves hear stories of tactical challenges, crushing defeats, and splendid victories. (and especially about, like, that one guy who used to like... stealth near a cliff or something.. so it was really hard to rezz after being killed by him I think. and he'd just kill you repeatedly unless you logged off.)

However, something new is happening. The bonds that contain the fictional world (and an immersive, visually-stunning fictional world it is!) are wearing thin. Johnny Smith, whose main WoW character is a hunter, is being followed by one wild animal after another, seemingly tamed by him. Sue Ann, known to play healers, was at the hospital when a weakening patient had an inexplicable sudden boost in HP. (accompanied by glowey aura!) And her little brother, who plays warriors, is evidencing some crazy abilities to charge into a fight! (Okay, on that last one maybe it was just him messing around.)

Maybe our own world, the "real world," is calling for heroes in these times - World of Warcraft Heroes.
There can be only one to lead them.
And his battle cry is:
Lee-roy Jenkins!!!

[deer of the dawn]

I like the slightly ridiculous take on worlds crossing over.

[Linna Heartbooger]

I like the slightly ridiculous take on worlds crossing over.

Did you watch the video yet?
I believe the tag we're using is "important cultural knowledge."
(and since you are around 3rd-graders a lot, I'll add: "contains mild swearing.")

You know what we neeeeed in this here contest?
We need Shuram!!
Let's start a campaign to summon him if he is willing & able.

[deer of the dawn]

bumping for Sarge.

[sgt.null]

bumping for Sarge.

will have to get back to this. 22nd anniversary for me and Julie, and we are seeing Duran Duran tonight. will think of my entry on the drive today.

[deer of the dawn]

Sarge, I believe you are the Judge of this round.

[Shuram Gudatetris]

Uhh... Last Chonic-WHAT?-cles spoilers ahead. We still doing that?? Just in case, you got to bust out your spyglasses for this one

Spoiler

The Quest for Fords.

Cavewights are known Ford worshippers (everybody knows that, just ask Donaldson). Their cavewightian plan to resurrect Drool Rockworm had failed, but now that Linden Avery had broken the Laws of Death and Life, the gateways were open for the Cavewights to attempt a NEW resurrection.

The resurrection of Henry Ford!

The cavewights conuduct their ancient death reversal ceremony, and Henry Ford steps out of the ground, covered in muck. He is unearthed. The car-worshipping cavewights had done it! They had resurrected him! The legendary Father of Automobiles.

"Henry!" They shout, "Henry!"

Henry Ford looks confused. Where is he? What is he doing HERE?

"Henry Ford! We love you! Henry Ford! Thank you!" And so chants the crowd.

Henry clears his throat. "Excuse me, pleas stop."

The crowd stops chanting.

"I am not Henry Ford. My name is John Thompson."

"John Ford! It's John Ford!" cheers the crowd.

"Uh....Still not quite right!" John tries to say.

A tall, lanky cavewiight wearing a robe steps forward. He is the priest-man leader of the car-warshippers, and he walks eagerly towards John, asking in earnest to shake his hand. "John Ford," he says, "John Ford! So good to meet you so thanks is full, for you to come back to us in our time or need. Thank fully Ford, full of thanks for the Ford."

"Hi," says John, shaking his hand, "Half-pleased to meet you, kind sir."


Deep in Death Mountain, I mean Mount Thunder, Covenant, Linden, and Jeremiah confront each other. They can sense that a new evil has arisen.

"Thomas," of my heart, "we can't a Ford to take this risk."

Covenant stands with his legs splayed to keep his balance. Rubbing furiously at the scar on his forehead, he says, "Hellfire. I don't think we can a Ford not to." He looks at Jeremiah, "What do you say, old sport?"

Jeremiah shrugs ruefully. "What does it matter. anyway? Who is John Galt?"

Covenant draws a circle in the ground, and they slip through space and time to confront John Ford.



John is being bathed by cavewights. They can be surprisingly gentle creatures.

Covenant, Linden, and Jeremiah step through argence to stand before John in his tub.

"Cease and desist!" yells Covenant.

"Yeah!" crows Jeremiah. "Put 'em up!"

Linden steps forward and makes a squeezing gesture with her right hand, yelling, "I am gonna get your BALLS, sucker!"

Everyone, men and cavewights alike, gulped uncomfortably in their throats.

John clears his throat. "I'm a Ford you must be mistaken. My name is John Thompson."

"Don't lie!" squeaks little Jeremiah. "They've been calling you John Ford!"

"And you REEK of Foul!" clucked Linden.

"Leper outcast unclean!" asserted Covenant.

Turns out, the four humans were actually wise in their own way, and the pair pair of humans worked things out. Once again the cavewights were foiled. Lost and abandonded, they began to plot a new plot to defeat the Strangers of the Land. These are the end days of the End of All Things Ending. All light will Ford to black, and the Last Dark will be upon us.

These are the wishes of Stephen Ford Onaldson.

(chevy)

[deer of the dawn]

[Linna Heartbooger]

Soooo bad!

[sgt.null]

Shuram Gudatetris wins!!!!

[Shuram Gudatetris]

I lost my laptop, I lost my tablet. Following simple message comes from my phone.

Had a thought. Good one. But it goes in my back pocket. Because...just now....

Reading through my old archives of BAD WRITING (wink uh you know, the personal stuff) I found *this.*

And it *perfectly* describes the *essence* of what this contest is.

[Shuram Gudatetris]

I lost my laptop, I lost my tablet. Following simple message comes from my phone.

Had a thought. Good one. But it goes in my back pocket. Because...just now....

Reading through my old archives of BAD WRITING (wink uh you know, the personal stuff) I found *this.*

And it *perfectly* describes the *essence* of what this contest is.

"Once upon a mime, there were two freaks standing on their heads so that they could eat dandelions. However, dandelions don't grow on mimes, so they went hungry. Since then, the freaks have gotten off the mime."

Uh, that's the opening paragraph to a story I once wrote once.

BEAT THAT.



*Edit*
In case its not clear, read first post of thread....
Write worst opener for a story *ever!*

[Linna Heartbooger]

In case its not clear, read first post of thread....
Write worst opener for a story *ever!*

Yesssss - challenge accepted.

Sooo...I'm gonna basically use same rules: One opening sentence for a novel or story, as bad as you can do it. Post them here...don't post comments/replies just the openers...

Going back to our roots.

(Note: I excised the part from vraith's OP where he said, "no side comments on this thread, just post your 1-sentence openers.")

[deer of the dawn]

Abandonded, foundering, storm-beblasted, desperational, disillusioned, nouveau-cynical, staggered and bugeyed clung our protagonist to the rockbound coast of Maine. Walking that goldang dog of hers has certainly turned out to be more trouble than our beleaguered relationship is worth, thought he, meeting the gaze of the beagle mutt whose tongue lolled happily from the cliff edge above him. A passing seagull punctuated his thoughts with wet droppings smack dab on his oversized shnozz, and commentated with gullish screams as he wheeled off to join his avian pals.

[DoctorGamgee]

This story begins where all stories begin: at the beginning. Well, not technically...we don't go back all the way to the millisecond before the big bang, as that much backstory, while answering each and every fan theory that plagues modern writers and their fanzines (which gives me not only pause, but the urge to start there!), would invalidate the premise listed above. For, as I said, this story really does start where all great stories begin: right here -- which is close enough to the beginning as to make no never mind.

[DoctorGamgee]

P.S. Deer, that is wonderfully awful!