Let's Write a Story

[Joe Carola]

I admit, I'm bored.

While driving the other day I thought of all of the varied backgrounds SBCers come from and I thought that it'd be neat if we wrote a communal story. Everyone would add a sentence but the only restriction is you can't have two postings in a row.

I thought that it would be cool to see where the story would take us. Anyone game?

I'll start.

"He looked down at his trembling hands, broken and bloodied, the remains of his gloves tattered."

[Eric Longo]

"He is exhausted, spent, but he knows he must gather his strong, for if he fails.................."

i hope this is a superhero story

[Paul Brian McCoy]

Thoughts of failure are forced from his mind as he painfully works his mangled legs from the still-settling rubble.

[vark]

"Still alive," he muses, content for the moment that his enemies would pay for not leaving him an exquisite corpse.

[Paul Brian McCoy]

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the few dying survivors of the blast, stealing ... no ... channeling the last of their energies in order to nudge his own healing process forward.

[Joe Carola]

As the life forces of his friends and teammates permiated every aspect of his body, the invading hordes circled overhead, preparing for another, perhaps the final, assault.

[Paul Brian McCoy]

The insect-like command ship hovered silently above the remains of the city; dozens of fires, from across the length and breadth of what had been New York City, reflected in its vast black undercarriage.

As the command ship slowly descended upon the wounded man known as Throbby Johnson, a platform extended from its hull, exhibiting the most magnificently dazzling anal probe apparatus Throbby had ever witnessed.

[Joe Carola]

Two stories at once:

As he turned to face the ship, he gritted his teeth and cursed himself for letting it come to this.

Throbby was both awed and saddened to see the probe; awed by it shape and girth and saddened because it had been used almost exclusively by the being known as Aron-son.

[Paul Brian McCoy]

Track 1. Inside his head, the voices of the fallen, the consumed, began to whisper; some offered advice, some curses of damnation, others only sobbed softly in the background.


Track 2. Aron-son, with his oversized buffalo-head and genital-free private area, squealed gleefully as he slid side-saddle down the shaft of the immense extending probe toward the destruction below.