ZOMG! An Anti Three Word Story!
 

Squinky sat inside her dimly-lit apartment, staring at the AG forums through her two-year-old laptop's screen, as usual.

"Bah," she thought to herself. "I'm sick of that damn three word story. Why does it have to be three words, anyway? After awhile, everyone loses track of the plot and everything stops making sense. No, I want a REAL story. One where people contribute whole sentences, or maybe even paragraphs. Like the kinds I used to start all the time on my old websites."

Squinky sighed, remembering the good old days. She was a genius back then, or at least she thought so at the time. But then again, she was a teenager, and all teenagers think they know everything.

"Maybe I should start a story here," she pondered. "I mean, sure, looking back at the archives, there have been similar attempts to start substantial stories in the past. But they were too serious, too ambitious, and ended up dying sad little thread deaths. But maybe, just maybe, if I tried it myself..."

Suddenly, Squinky heard a rather loud crash.

The scene skips back a couple of minutes and shifts to a library situated next door to Squinky's house... James sits by himself. He sorts through a huge pile of books and finally spreads a large, leather bound book open across the centre of the table

"This is the point where you sit and you wait. You wait because you know you have 2 midterms tomorrow and there is no physical way for you to get a passing grade. And you sit because… well, who wants to stand when you know you have 2 midterms you haven’t studied for?"

James rests his head and then begins violently bashing it against the table. Nextdoor, Squinky sits upright as the sound echoes through her window.

"Excuse me Sir; Im going to have to ask you to leave."

"I was just about to."

James grabs his bag from the table and exits the building, making sure to grab a couple of the “new release books” and shove them into his bag.

"See, its times like this when you’ve really got to wonder whether your life is on track. My analogy… No. So I accept defeat and steal a couple of books to compensate. That’s the great scheme of things. You give a little, you take a little. Then the thought sets in that you’re losing a lot more then your taking and you decide the only thing left to do is take more."

James walks out of the library and turns down the street. He notices a face staring at him from the window of the house nextdoor. Suddenly he pauses as he realises...

http://images.google.com/images?q=tb.../photos/31.jpg

The Narrative Collective: resurrected!

;)

She turns towards the sound and her unique IKEA bookcase only to realize that her priceless Cubert Badbone figurine had toppled from the shelf. Luckily it wasn't broken but it had fallen on a mug of cold, neglected tea left on the coffee table.

She watched the tea stain the carpet and didn't notice James looking at her window.

Spoiler:

Cool idea.

Edit: Aw crap, too late. What should I do, delete? Added back in at Glenn's suggestion. :)

...that the library was not actually a library, and the street was not really a street, either. And the face looked hauntingly familiar, like an old flame James knew a lifetime ago. Except it wasn't her.

James continued walking toward the house, although for some reason, the house moved further and further away as he walked. And so, he tried walking backwards, which to his great dismay, gave the exact same result. Finally, he gave up, collapsing to the pavement - which, as you may have already guessed, wasn't really pavement at all.

I know. I wanted to start a new one. :)

Comment:

This reeks of roleplaying.
Carry on, I like it, I do this often.

Lee heard a crashing sound from across the road. Worried that something bad had happened at Squinky's, he went to look out his bedroom window. Looking out through the darkness, he noticed that the lamp lights and the trees were swaying surrealistically.

He saw a man fall on the ground and begin writhing spasmodically, and thought he could hear gibberish phrases coming from the man's mouth through the wind rustling in the trees. In a window across the street, he spotted a woman staring downward to her feet with a look of horror, her mouth opening to let out a scream that wouldn't come. And across the way, he thought he could make out Squinky's face looking on.

Lee waved to her, but couldn't tell if she saw him. She seemed transfixed, her face emotionless. He walked to his phone and dialed her number. He returned to the window, waiting for her to pick up. He could hear her phone ringing faintly on the breeze, but she stood as still as the house she stood in.

Becoming concerned, Lee grabbed his long grey coat and slipped into his running shoes. Reaching for his keys, he headed for the door, hoping she was okay.

As Lee burst out his front door, the police moved in as they had detected from the implant in his head that he was about to violate the court order. The judge had been firm that day, firm but fair.

"Never again, young Lee, must you approach within 50 meters of the female known as 'Squinky', nor enter her places of residence or employment. You were caught red-handed in her underwear drawer and have been stalking her via the internet for some time. It is time to draw a line under this whole sorry affair. I am also taking into consideration 3 PVC hoods and a leather whip."

Lee thought darkly on this point. The judge, that overpaid, pompous toad he was, had humiliated him. He was impertinance personified!

He hopped into his classic '35 Auburn Speedster. If he couldn't approach Squinky, he'd sit here and watch. Clandestinely. He turned on the radio. Gah. Horrid music were spat out of the speakers. Belay that.

Suddenly, Angus McGee, the local hotshot, motored around the corner in his '35 Ford. Curious, Lee put his car into gear and.....

accidentally reversed into a lamppost.

Meanwhile, Squinky recovered from her narcolepsy and sprung into action, pausing only to take her medication so that it wouldn't recur...

She placed Cubert back on the shelf, and proceeded to the kitchen to find a sponge or piece of cloth she could start cleaning the carpet with.

Upon entering the kicthen, however, she paused again, startled. "Maybe one pill wasn't enough?" she asked herself, staring at the kitchen window.

The window, on which someone (or something) had apparently just written "ZOMG!" in menacingly red paint.

Maybe it was her imaginary friend Charlie? He had been very bad recently. She shuddered at the memory of the body falling from the window...

But what had REALLY happened during her blackout?

While all of this is sort of not happening, the lamp post, which fell on Lee's head, has caused him to rot away to a dessicated corpse in a matter of seconds.

(Thanks for letting me almost play)

The locals, being Canadian nuts, took the remains of Lee's body, painted it orange, shaved his eyebrows, then hooked him up to a car battery via jumper cables. The mutant AG'er then was then unleashed on the population of New York, who had not been getting enough reasons to blame Canada for everything lately...

Sadly, the New Yorkers failed to notice Zombie Mutant Lee at all, and went about their daily Seinfeld-esque lives as usual.

"Aw man, this really sucks, eh?" remarked one of the Canadians as they all watched what was going on from their cheap television screens. "Maybe we should rethink our strategy. Instead of a zombie, why don't we turn him into a chivalrous ladies' man?"

"Say, that's a pretty good idea, eh?" replied another Canadian. And so, he turned around and placed a rather expensive phone call to...

Spiwak.

"Hello? Hello?" he answered. "Oops, sorry, wrong number," replied the Canadian nut, and hung up. Spiwak scurried away dejectedly and went back to whatever he was doing before this rather unnatural occurrence happened.

Meanwhile, the Canadians tried again, this time dialing the correct number. Tom Cruise answered, yelling maniacally into the receiver...

"Hello!?"

"Tom? Got a minute?" asked the Canadian, whose name, just so you know, was Noah.

"What do you mean, you want to resurrect a dead Canadian and make him charming? We don't do that. Theta waves are not voodoo, you know? They're serious business, and they're destroying the world as we know it. When people finally learn the truth, they won't be laughing anymore. That goes for you too, Nicole!"

Meanwhile, Lee became infested with wood ticks, who were the only creatures interested in inhabiting a dried out husk of a man.