/lit/ - Literature

ROLL FOR CTHULHU TRIPS

"3. a slave story"

What is this? Gor?

>>2273074

damn it man! You're a Elder God yourself!

Let it be.

>>2273074
Sims broke bread over the family table. It was Thanksgiving and he hated coming back for Thanksgiving. It was just a mess at the table. Especially when his parents invited guests. He supposed that these guests were meant to impress him. They were "poets", though they all had second jobs, unlike him who lived solely on his art. It wasn't much but only a fraud would try to be something they weren't.

His family had taken leave of the table, ostensibly to prepare dessert. They had left him alone with the two local wordsmiths. He felt uncomfortable and moved slightly in his seat.

The man across from him wore a white holiday themed sweater smiled in a way that was supposed to be kindly and said,

"When I was young, and had dinner at home,
I always remembered twas proper my hair to comb,
And soon after I realized how the world works,
I fell in with that world, the world of jerks."

The other man, wearing an old 49ers football themed bomber jacket chortled, reaching forward for his beer and said,

"Youth was so easy, so easy to be blind,
Twas not long ago, that I was of a mind,
To drink wine jugs, and be full on myself,
Twas about time you stowed that somwhere on a shelf."

Sims sighed and slid out his chair nosily. He couldn't stand it anymore, he'd skip dessert, ask his parents for a check now, and bail before these old farts could embarrass themselves anymore.

rawhide

>>2273111
christmas related cthulhu is the best type of cthulhu. i need to marinate on this before i start writing.

Rolling, but I've got to run to the store so I guess I'll cheat a little and think about it on my way to-from. Here's hoping I don't get 4 or (ugh) 5 because I don't think I can do those. Great prompt pic though, OP.

rollll

rollin'

rowling

“That’s fine with me,” the woman said to her husband, “It’s not like we matter anyway!”
She paused, and the husband saw this. It was his first opportunity. “She was nothing, honey; I was just testing the waters, you know? Seeing who might fit in,” He replied, trying and failing to reveal his lie. The air in the room was thick and hot, and the breath of the man and his four wives was stifling.
“Oh, you were testing the waters, huh?” another woman added, revealing more anger than her predecessor. “Why didn’t you need to do that for any of us? We didn’t have so rigid an application process.”
“Honeys,” the man squeaked, revealing his anxiety, “I loved you all at first sight.”
The first wife responded, more angrily this time, “We don’t want to hear it, all right? It’s evident now, and it was evident last year. I only wish one of us had realized it sooner. You… you’re a monogamist.”

poastan

maybe this will make some of my writers block go away

>2273185

It was over very quickly-- he coaxed her past the hesitations and half-starts, and chimed in with vague but loaded turns of phrases to help her get over the hump of the worst of it.

Something about timing, that was the consensus they arrived at—though by that point, what they were saying was no longer of importance, as both of them were entirely fixated on making the next step in the process—where they parted—as graceful as possible.

She was thinking about the song sequencing for the breakup mix CD she was going to burn.

He was convinced that his decor in this very moment would determine whether he could ever sleep with her again.

After she left, he stayed for a little while, toes together and hands and chin tucked in, his eyes focused narrowly swirling steam of his uneven breaths.

>>2273211
no, I refuse

rerollan

>>2273111
Santa chewed merrily on his chocolate bar, specially made by the black elves for that rich chocolate flavor. It was a grand Christmas, the snow was falling gently and all was quiet and good. Flying through the air at a speed that a drunk phycsist who had stayed up past his bedtime watching his chimney described to him as "quantum". Of course Santa didn't know anything about that, and didn't care to, Rudolph and his team of reindeer had always served him well enough without needing to think about it.

He remembered how he'd first freed the magical reindeer from Chasos, Devourer of Stars, and how they swore eternal allegiance to his present-giving cause. Dixon still bore a scar along his midsection where one of Chasos's spawn had nearly ripped him in two. Luckily, Santa's elves were pretty handy with a thread and needle.

Santa brought up his list to check it twice when over the top of the parchment he noticed the water of the ocean swelling below him. Suddenly, his half brother Cthulhu burst from the water, his head writhing with ugly tentacles. Santa roared, "HO HO HO HO! A MERRY CHRISTMAS" and plunged the sleigh towards the monster from the deep. Santa cast all types of spells and shit and the battle raged for awhile, but eventually he pushed Cthulhu back to the bottom of the ocean and continued on his way to bring cheer to the children of the world.

Rolling

The room was falling apart, the walls where crumbling and tumbling, the floor threatened to give away wholesale and the various furniture fell and broke, slid and slipped.
"Get that bloody door open Kilo." Kilo tried a key and threw it away as it failed to open the door. Too many keys remained.
"If this is to be our last dream together then I just want to say I love you guys. Seriously."
Kilo and Minus looked briefly at the Stigg, bafflement suddenly chasing away the urgent hysteria that had filled their chase through the rooms and corridors of this failing house.
"What the hell you monster, after all you've done and now suddenly you love us?!"
Minus quickly jabbed Kilo back into key-trying. She also gave the Stigg a jab. To the face. Laughing it's peculiar sing song, the Stigg continued: "You guys are the bestest arch enemies I've ever had. Jeezie McFleezie, the others never LASTED like you. Heck, you have even managed to get me down in me cups for the moment. Jimminy!" It rattled it's chains. Silence. Minus looked helplessly at the receding floor, eaten up by a fall into nothingness and calculating the time left to less than a minute. Plenty of time right?
"Got it!" Kilo howled and kicked the door open. Another corridor, yet they all recognized the familiar tiling of Fleur de Lyses and dust. They had reached the safe grounds of the central wing, second floor of the House. Minus fell laughing with relief over the threshold and into Kilo's arms. They hugged briefly. The Stigg tsked. The creature adjusted its tie and stepped over the threshold. Into the palm of Kilo. The Stigg fell back into the room and scrambled to not fall over the ledge into nothing.
"What the hey!?" it cried.
"What are you doing Kilo?"
"This...this creature. This is what it deserves. This is for Claudus and the others."
"Don't.."

>>2273302
It was too late. Kilo effortlessly kicked the Stigg over the ledge. It fell beyond without so much a sound. He slowly closed the door and all the noise of pandemonium of falling lamps of folding walls ended and fled. Silence again.
Minus looked with tears threatening to fall, emotions trembling. Kilo looked back, trembling with rage slaked yet not banished. He had his revenge at last.
She would ask him why but she knew why. He would ask her to remember their friends. Of the casual destruction at the Stiggs hands. Of vengeance. She didn't agree. She didn't understand. They both saw the conversation playing out so they both said nothing. Until.
"You killed him."
"Yes. It had to..."
"It's over" she interrupted him.
"We are over"
And like that she walked away. And like that, Kilo lost the last thing he cherished in this House. No enemy, no band of mates, no girl.
I still have my spells, my hammer of glass. I'm even more of a feared warrior now after surviving this, he thought. I can still get new mates, maybe a new girl. Kilo felt his emotions stabilize, his soul wasn't plunging into the abyss anymore. It will all work out. I have lost and I have learned this night. He hefted his hammer and wandered deeper into the house.
I will start with a new enemy he thought.

rawls

Rollin, i guess.

Shit, why not.

roll

OP, could you please post the 4 previous versions?

they see me rolling

19 get

>>2273654
hmm, i have 3 & 4

4 -
0. there is a contest between two of the characters
1. write a poem
2. this story takes place on a train in a foreign country
3. IN PRISON
4. the characters can't stop running (setting is future)
5. THIS IS A SAMURAI STORY
6. this story begins with a bang (an explosion)
7. the main character is named Ulises and he is a philosopher
8. from the point of view of your parents
9. your characters are at a zoo

3 -
0. urban (read: ethnic)
1. this story is about music or musicians
2. culinary theme
3. the main character is named Ulises and he is a bad ass
4. written as a letter written to the character's self in the future
5. this story takes place on a space ship
6. CTHULHU
7. written as a biography or obit
8. poetry you goddamn artistic motherfucker, poetry
9. ACTION (must have a fight scene or chase scene or something that gets the blood pumping)

didn't save the others

shit flash faiction thread, still rolling though.

>>2274019

Been tailin this Mary Sue bitch all night. Noticed she was the protagonist, wasn't surprised tho.

Used to write shitty poems to girls as a kid, even drew a picture with me and Laura sitting together at the beach -- sunset and shit. Saw it in teacher's bin at the end of the day. The sun had those tentacle-thick rays kids typically draw. I dunno, it was kinda nice.

Ah, she turned right and stopped. Got out of her red two seater. Did I mention it's red? Have you ever seen a bitch drive a car that's not red? Me neither, except maybe for white.

She's talking on phone while walking to Subway. Probably gonna meet some mook who pays her food _and_ take the story forward.

Gettin hungry too.

>>2274019

Been tailin this Mary Sue bitch all night. Noticed she was the protagonist, wasn't surprised tho.

Used to write shitty poems to girls as a kid, even drew a picture with me and Laura sitting together at the beach -- sunset and shit. Saw it in teacher's bin at the end of the day. The sun had those tentacle-thick rays kids typically draw. I dunno, it was kinda nice.

Ah, she turned right and stopped. Got out of her red two seater. Did I mention it's red? Have you ever seen a bitch drive a car that's not red? Me neither, except maybe for white.

She's talking on phone while walking to Subway. Probably gonna meet some mook who pays her food _and_ takes the story forward.

Gettin hungry too.

roll

fuck roll

>>2274038


'Oh baby I love you.'

'Thanks.'

'What?'

'I said thanks.'

She removed his penis from her mouth.'What?'

He looked down at her. 'Well, thanks. I think it's cool that you love me.'

'What the fuck, Ethan. Not funny.' She left the room.

'See you tonight.'

'Fuck you.'

The door slammed and he smiled. His wit was like a lasso, an impunity to any perceived seriousness, and hence, she would never leave. He'd never known her to make a decision on something with shaky ground. She'd be back. To suck his cock.

And a few hours later, there she was.

'What did you mean?'

'By what?'

'"Thanks"'

'Nothing, babe. I was just talking shit. You know me.'

'Sometimes I don't.'

'I promise.'

A skeptical sigh over crossed arms. 'Okay.' She smiled. He grinned. She sucked his penis. All was well.

roll motherfucker

roll for something interesting

>>2274043
"If slavery is so bad, why do people pay for gyms?"
Two months later he became the new president of the country. Two years later slavery was reinstalled and it was great.
"Sometimes simple solutions are the best solutions."
He had the wisdom of falcon and the people loved him.
Soon he was president for life.
He pissed me off. My gym went broke and I had to do shit jobs to pay off the debt. It was hell.

Maybe.

>>2274051

"Time has a rotten stench to it these days", Santa said to Mrs. Claus.

"Oh, why do you always have to talk like that. Normal people don't talk like that", she retorted while knitting.

Santa sighed, sipped whisky, and sighed again.

"Okay now, what is the matter with you, mister?"

"I'm fading. No, we are fading."

Now Mrs. Claus sighed too. Her sigh stemmed from frustration rather than anxiety.

"Every time this year you say the same thing. When the celebration is over, people's thoughts move elsewhere. That's all there is to it, and you know this. It'll all be back to normal sooner than you say 'sleep', which someone is in need of..."

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm just Santa Clause, what do I know about metaphysics."

"Here we go again", she said, rolling her eyes.

>>2274052
liked

moar stories

rolling

Rollin'

ROLL

>>2274088
"You never had the chops to really bust down with the best of us. You'll always be a hedge wizard, Drolic!"

"Take it back you rotten bastard!" Spellfire shoots out his hands.

Deflected. "KAZAM! You have no skills with which to pay the bills and henceforth you can Drolick my balls!" Casts charm person spell.

"Oh what's up dude."

"Not much, would you like to lick these balls?"

"Would I ever, you're the best Trillicus."

"Don't talk, just lick."

roll again

Rolling.

i used to write a bunch in these threads but today i can't seem to do anything but roll

Gotta roll fast.

>>2274105
Tharn breathed deeply and raised his head to look at his love. He knew the consequences would be dire, but he could not put this off any longer.

“Uh, Jaela?” he mumbled.
“GWWWUUUUAAAAHHHHHRGHHHH?” she bellowed from one of her many mouths, covering Tharn head to toe in her thick, blue saliva. She had somehow seemed less articulate ever since she had witnessed the birth of the Darkstar and observed things which should never be observed.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk about. I can’t help but notice you’ve morphed into some kind of eldritch hive-monster,” Tharn said, trying to maintain eye contact. Jaela’s ever-shifting eyes made this difficult.
“AAAAUGGGGGGHHH!” she screeched, as her stone-like hide started changing colors.
“No, we can’t talk about something else. Ever since you met that Xel’nedsh fellow you’ve…well, you’ve been different, Jaela. You’re not the girl I fell in love with. It’s over,” yelled Tharn. Feeling quite proud of himself, he turned to leave.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHKKKKKKKKKKKKKK” Jaela roared, and cleaved the sky asunder. Horrors from another realm poured in from the great Skywound and began to butcher the inhabitants of this world.

Though he was being disembowelled by a creature which seemed to be made of teeth, Tharn was not depressed. He had stood up for himself. He silently vowed never to enter into a relationship with a Star Cultist ever again, and from now on would only concentrate on his career.

>>2273068
Smack a duck and watch it flap.

>>2274137
star cultists are the worst

He walks into The Pyramid Club on 6th. I follow him in, but I get stopped by the security. After producing ID I get in. I can't see him. Finally I catch a climpse. He's heading into the toilet with another guy. I follow them in.
"shii tones this this stuff's fucking ridiculous"
"yeah, ya think?"
"Yeah"
After they snort some coke, they leave seperately. Tony disapears to the bar. Markus heads over to a table with girls. He sits down and starts talking about his week. How he has a sense he's being followed and how he feels he needs to find out who's following him, else he's going to go crazy.
A girl at the table leans over and whipsers something in his ear. He gets up and she follows. They head into the girls bathroom. I assume inside they had sex. When they return he spots me looking, nods as if I'm someone he knows. I nod back and turn round to face the barman.
---------------------------------------
Writing someone watching someone is, well, not very good.

>>2274165
op here. i am always changing the prompts and so there are bound to be bad ones, but i thought this would give some writers an opportunity to see characters in another way. i figure the point of flash fiction here is of course just to fuck around, but also to somewhat get the ball rolling for our stories or just exercise our skills a little.

i'm happy to hear suggestions for future prompts though.

roll

triples get

..

Life was so hard these days. There were still twelve miles left to walk to the Bobbit village and Merloc sat down by the road. Those fucking Bobbits could have at least sent a taxi or something. They knew how old he was. He tried to maintain a proud wizard posture when a merchant-woman passed by with her child. Suddenly they stopped and the child ran back to the old bearded man. Something fell near his shabby shoes. Merloc picked the coin up and threw it back at the kid. Fucking Bobbits.

j.k. rollin

>>2274544
Dean brushed past Margo on his way out the door. The cardboard boxes he carried were water stained at the bottom from too much time in the basement.
"You don't have to do this," she said. "Things could get better
they might get worse
if you leave now we'll never know
better to stay, let this run its course
at least we will have tried
there's something to be said
for trying to bring back the dead"
A tarnished little league trophy fell from the box. Dean stooped to retrieve it.
"You spend too much time on facebook
When I needed a hand
when I needed a friend
you were liking statuses
you were tagging photos
and laughing behind the screen
at dated references
to Charlie Sheen
you're too vapid to love
I'm too weak to try
g'bye."

sorry guys, I barely understand what makes poetry poetry aside form rhyming schemes.
Maybe the two characters could be bad poets, that works?

>>2274027

>Sorry about posting late, I've written some more if someone wants it, it just kind of left the noir genre.

It was a dark winter's night, the lakes were frozen over, the streets empty, and from the skies flurries of snow came falling down. The people were all snug in their houses, beside their fireplaces or radiators, wrapped in blankets drinking tea. Only a few unfortunate remained outside, under bridges, or in old derelict warehouses. It was the perfect night for crime and murder.

David berkowitz had just left his apartment and began roaming through the streets muttering and murmuring to himself in the kind of unhealthy schizoid obsession, that grabed the attention of passer-bys and made them switch the sidewalk.

— "The dog, he needs his souls, pretty girls, pretty girls" he kept repeating to himself while his eyes shifted about searching for that pretty girl".

I'm only interested in writing poems, so I'm just going to post this without rolling. I like it apart from the last line.

The foggy autumn toad is wise.
Nothing can outdo the foggy
wisdom of its tumid throat.
Anything at all encroaches
on the tumid toad's warty back--
all the world's strange truth, the spoils
of war or Stephen Park; serene,
it accepts all the mystery
laid on its foggy tumid back.
Unmelancholy is the gleam
in the wise toad's knowing eye.
Look to knowing toads' wise glints
and know that they alone possess
the secret of eternal life.

Rollololololololololoooooooooooooolo

Rollin'

bump

Rawling

>>2274791
Done
Matilda sat on the edge of the table.

Her nails dug into the wood.

"You forgot the cranberry sauce-"

"I-"

She sucked her lips in, swung her legs out to the side, and stood up.

One jar left. Cranberry sauce. Four dollars and a quarter was its price.
He was going to get it, too, until
"Merry Christmas!"
John winced at the tone, glancing over his shoulder. Mid 20s, blonde, scarf, peacoat,
gloves...
She was talking.
"...cranberry sauce, huh? Probably my favorite part of any holiday dinner. It really adds a nice flavor
and-"
John took the jar out of his basked, thrusted it to her. She smiled, grabbed it, and walked off with the utterance of another season's greetings.

Leering at the man positioned at the end of the isle, the sauce between them.
"Hello, John."
His eyebrows scrunched. The pleasantries had no effect.

Sailing through the air, a lovely trajectory. The way the lights bounced off its polished surface would have initiated John into self-reflection mode at any other time.

Broken, entrails strewn across the tile. John scooped up the residue with his hands and rubbed his face.

Matilda smiled. "That's alright, darling. Merry Christmas."

>>2274819
Will write again, because bored
>5 minute mode

Not poetry.

>keyboard mashing
Askorp jris sdli es ig,
On the plate, you eat to become
Sald iou oaes dsoiriu
Are you part of us
Reuoy aoiud uwe eu woip oiuyu bemnb
You were made as an heir, a furthering of the line
Yuturi a s aokdi uewo ewbokai kowelia
Honor your family, your mother, your father
Rweoi eok
Bring pride
Welolkja hieoai lkiwjn
Or leave

>>2274848
"How many dicks do you think Matilda can cram in her mouth? I'm guessing from around three to four."
"I'll bet that she can swallow at least two whole."
"How do you think Matilda would cram all of those dicks in there?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe she just get's them from different angles. There might be some disembodiment if the numbers rose from two."
"Ouch, do you think anyone would comply with such a painful experiment?"
"Nah, but if we round up some of Seattle's homeless, they wouldn't be missed."
Matilda walks in.
"Oh hey Matilda, we we just wondering how many dicks you could fit in your mouth."
"Hmmm, I'm not entirely sure, myself, perhaps we could round up Seattle's homeless and find out."
They round up Seattle's homeless.
"Ok, here goes number one."
"How's that taste, Matilda?"
"Well, it's a little... difficult to talk... but, if I cease, I will... get more dicks in my mouth."
"Well, the two of us will have to simply make hypotheses as to how it feels then."
"Well, that's dick number two, I think the participants are getting a little suspicious of our motives."
"It'll be alright, Taylor, we're cops."
"Well, shit you're right, I guess we have nothing to worry about."
Matilda fit a total of five homeless dicks in her mouth.

let's see

>>2274866
wat in the actual fuck

>>2274866

wtg Matilda

Rolling in the shallows

>>2275082

nah, i don't know anything about the city i live in.

my 1 and only reroll

>>2275093

cool, much better. I can work with this.

Missionary Position

His jaw ached from being gagged for so long. His wrists were bruised and battered from interminable attempts to free his bound hands and a puddle of blood had formed under his now arid and dried-up asshole. He was only nineteen, going on twenty, but he had spent the last 6 months of his life in this motherfucker's basement hunched over with his feet and hands chained to the floor. He was in quite a precarious situation, as the only person who knew he was here, that old fuck who put him this situation, was now dead next to him and the first stages of decomposition were starting to take effect.

The young man's name was Elliot Proust, but Old Frank only knew him as Elder Proust, the Mormon missionary who would usually come by with his companion Elder Schold every sunday at six. Frank had been enamored by Elder Proust almost immediately and feigned interest in what he was preaching so that he could keep seeing the young man as much as he wanted. Frank soon became frustrated though, as masturbating to his fantasies of the young man became insipid; he wanted more. His chance came when Elder Schold came down with a terrible fever and didn't show up with Elder Proust one afternoon.

"Oh my, that is terrible! What an unfortunate turn of events!" exclaimed Frank to Elder Proust. "Oh i do hope, he recovers his strength quickly and with much haste." And that's when Frank decided to make some room in his basement, and perhaps purchase some nice quality handcuffs.

Elliot Proust received a distraught call one afternoon, while Elder Schold was in a fever-induced deep sleep. "Hurry Elder! I am in need of your wisdom! My faith is in danger!" Frank frantically cried. Not wanting to endanger the old man's faith, Elder Proust rushed over in his Toyota Camry, without hesitation. Frank was preparing the sedative.

>>2274615

We all sat around drinking our cans, sip by sip, drowning our consciousness in the murky realms of inebriation . Our laughs grew louder and our inhibitions less. Gary who sat very quiet by our side looked the worst. He had a red glowing complexion, and eyes rolling about aimlessly. Eventually Gary looked up at us with a big grin:
— "lets walk down to the stage, I want to hear some more music" he said.
And so we all walked down drinking more and more. I could feel my stomach gurgle and then, without warning the curry chips came streaming out in one big gush. I knew not where I was and what was happening but I remember bits of curry in my girlfriends hair and never seeing her ever again.

THE END

>>2275153

Frank was keeled over next to the chained and exhausted Elliot Proust. He had been so excited that morning to start the days fun with Elder Proust, that he forgot to take his heart medication, which ultimately led to his imminent demise. He had sedated Elder Proust again, and got him into an all-new position. He had capriciously purchased piano bench the night before, that was the perfect height. With much trouble and hardwork, the old man was finally able to hunch Elder Proust over the piano bench in an almost "doggy-style"-like position. Now all he had to do was wait.

When Elder Proust finally awoke, Frank seized the moment and got right to work. His elation was of such magnitude he thought his heart was going to explode from the pure joy he was experiencing, and that's just what happened. "Oh god, oh Jesus Christ, oh... ugh!" he exclaimed, and then proceeded to die.

The naked old man fell over dead into a heap crusted rags. Elliot Proust looked to the old man, and could not believe what had just happened. His captor had just died, but he was still stuck in the damp, unforgiving basement.

With new found vigor, he tried ceaselessly to free himself from his bonds, and repeatedly, he failed. Now on the third day, after laying in a pile of his own filth, Elliot Proust decided he was done trying. No amount of struggle would ever free his bonds. All was lost. Until, on the fifth day a wandering cat, who had entered through the open upstairs window made his way into the decrepit basement.

"Meow" announced the cat as he made his way down the stairs and wandered over to Elliot. "Meow?" asked the cat, to which Elliot responded "mmpphhhmm..." And then Elliot heard the sound he had been waiting for for 5 days: The doorbell. It was followed by silence, and then a few successive loud knocks.

"mmmmpphhh mmrrrgh!" Elliot retorted. After a few moments a slew of doorbells and loud knocks were heard over and over again... following was silence...

>>2275210
The silence lingered in the air like a putrid smell, but suddenly, it was whisked away when finally the creak of the front door being opened was heard followed by a soft sounding female voice. Miraculously, Frank had somehow forgotten to lock his front door.

"hello? Is there anyone home? Ummm... helloooo?" after hearing no response, she continued. "My cat somehow got out and i saw her go through your open window. Frank? are you there?" asked the neighbor. Elliot was in disbelief, had his prayers really been answered? Had god somehow provided this amazing angel to somehow save him? He heard her walk through the vestibule and heard the creak of the hardwood and she began to look around for her cat. Elder Proust wanted more than anything to flail his body around and make as much noise as possible, but he had not even an ounce of strength left in him.

"Zooey? Zo? where are you kitty?" he heard her call upstairs. He heard doors being opened and closed as she searched around. Then there was the inevitable sound he was waiting for, the sound of her setting foot on the first stair leading down into the basement. He tried to smile but couldn't because of the gag in his mouth, but it didn't matter to him. He was free. When she finally got to the bottom stair and looked into the dimly lit basement she saw the young man, now skinny, pale, covered his own feces and blood, chained to a ridiculously ornate piano bench, and she froze in place. He mustered up the last of his strength and did what he could to ask her to save him. This is it, he thought, my incarceration in this hell is over.

>>2275265
"Oh my god..." said the girl, dressed in a sundress, a reminder of the beautiful world that awaited him outside. "Are you okay?" she asked. She then walked over to him. Except she wasn't walking over to him, she went and picked up her cat. "you are filthy Zo! What were you thinking walking in all of this filth? You're gonna hate it, but i'm going to have to throw you in the shower!" she announced to her cat. She turned and walked away. As she set her foot on the first step she looked over at Elliot, who now was in disbelief. "Goodbye," she simply said and walked up the stairs.


THE END.

rollol

rol

Poet the first: (to audience) Act one, scene one
Poet the second: (enters by sidedoor, is wearing a long robe, and is followed out the sidedoor by other enrobed poets, some holding scrolls; the robes are red)
This, onlookers, be the place
where the commander's of the human race
betwixt them a future define
a million lives by a million lines.

WELCOME, I SAY, to the guild of poets,
who, all for want of appreciation,
(an indifferent public cause the inflammation),
are about to lay down their pens, roll up their scrolls,
and prepare picket signs and pick up their poles.

Poet 2: (to poet three) HA, WHEN THE PUBLIC SEE THE POETS ARE ON STRIKE,
THEY WILL CRY,
VICTOR! HECTOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
REINVEST IN SOME QUILLS,
WITHOUT YOUR INSTITUTION THE WORLD IS DEVOID OF THRILLS
WITHOUT THE POETS COMMERCE HAS CEASED
GOVERNMENTS FALLEN, POWER GONE TO THE PRIEST

Poet the second or third, possibly the fifth;
You are of no great import

fin

roll bump

Rolling

Rolland
Be back in 6 hours.