Here is some fiction which seems to have been generated at random by 4 color-coded monkeys (possibly by 4 college students with ready access to recreational medicaments; the style is similar).
It was a dark and stormy night...when a dog
crawled out of a little hole in the... wall. I screamed, for the
cat 'twas missing!.. "Bah!," I said, and immediately left the
house to buy a new one. As I drove down the wet road...I saw my
beloved cat crawling...and twitching across the hard and
silvery...bomb! Damn those Russians! I
extracted my AK-47 (a Russian submachine gun) and blew away the bomb from the
cat, but I had accidentally...hit the dog....oh, well, he deserved it.
Those Reds must have figured out my identity and where I...
go to see blue whales and--agh! As I was shooting the AK-47, I
let go of the wheel! The car crashed into a...Russian tank!
They have opened fire! I think I might have just started WWIII between
the U.S. and a country with an economy the size of a pea! Look!
Its a...flying pig! It dive bombed the tank, destroying
itself with it. The aroma of charred swine filled the air. Just
then a pack of hungry homeless people ran at the free dinner
and...discovered that they like their ham cooked rare. Mass riots
broke out everywhere! I decided to...run like hell when I
just happened to trip on my cat. My cat held a P-45 colt pistol in my
face! The shock! He was really a Russian Secret Service agent
planted to...discover where I lived and secretly plot against me
and...to sell me unisex hair products to test so they
wouldn't test them on his Uncle Bill. I said...
"Ha! I'll never reveal the secret of the Avocado-duck death
bomb program! Especially not the part where...the ducks
eat the avocados! Finding out about my secret plans, the cat promptly
shot me in the leg, and... I gave him a kitty treat for being so unique.
Just now I had noticed he had a pop gun. I only had a cork bruise on my
leg, but the cat had ran off with the...chicken who rather
resembled Bad Vlad Lenin. Coincidence? I think not.
Yes, yes, very odd, yet strangely compelling prose. It will do to go on with.
But we do love any meandering narrative that's got whales in, my poppets, so there's something.
4 comments:
*grumbles* oh sure, make me just one period.
'it was a dark and stormy nite. last tuesday, in fact. i was gathering my implements of destruction together for what would later prove to be a fairly raucous meeting of the ladies embroidery circle and terrorist society. the lights flickered, making it very difficult for me to find my favorite needles and gun belt....finally havin' everything together, i opened the door to my room on the third floor of miz b's grog shoppe and stepped into the hallway, where i met......'
caviar, which she likes to load into a very small hand-catapult and launch at those who insist on attempting to apply their petty tiny morals to her rampantry. But soft! that sound that make the heart to pound! A board creaks, and she shrieks! For down the hallway comes...
Captain McEigenartig, the only other man who has a vengeance for the whale as great as or perhaps greater than Captian Gus. As it turns out he is also a great fan of LuLu MacFrye as he had in his briefcase a personally signed copy of her er his book. As you recall he was the one who paid those venezuelans to keep gus and his crew in jail. But he is not here to listen to LuLu's speach but to get information from those whom he knows to be gus's winches. As he takes out his sword suddenly the lights go out and.....
lulu says, a la mae west....is that a harpoon in your pants, cap'n, or are you just happy to see me. but hark!just as the captain shows lulu his *happy to see you*, a scream reverbrates from the lower floor of the grog shoppe. it's......
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