ITT: Let's write a story together. Continue from the previous poster. Use no more than three sentences. No responding to yourself. No comma splices allowed, but sentence fragments are okay. Change of POV is acceptable. I'll begin:
I had finally managed to get Carl, Carla and Carlos together in the same room. It was my birthday. I could hear the drunken banter of the other party guests through the door.
>>8180929
The shrill and bassy voices fell in volumes and the crashing spiels came together in bits. I knew there was something being said next door.
The voices started to vanish,all light escaped the room as the demonic voices screamed in my head.The last thing i saw before passing out was the bloody chainsaw that killed Carl.Carla and Carlos.
I liked dicks. Everyday I would go to the nearest gay bar and get ass fucked. Then I got killed.
Then Max whispered inside Friederich's ears: "Morals ain't shit but spooks and tricks"
I remembered that chainsaw. In fact, it was the very chainsaw that inspired Jorge Xanthopoulos, a character in an underground postmodern novelle I'm writing, to eat his sofa.
He sat back in the rocking chair, moving slowly.
"I wonder if anyone still remembers yu-gi-oh cards", he said in a low whisper.
Just then, a bumblebee spiraled out of his mouth. It seemed to whisper something into his ear as it flew past and out of the window
When you wet the bed first it is warm then it gets cold. His mother put on the oilsheet. That had the queer smell.
His mother had a nicer smell than his father. She played on the piano the sailor's hornpipe for him to dance. He danced
Bill Wilson stood and watched as the distant Jeep trundled across the muddy terrain of the Scottish highlands. Clad in beige cargo pants, a baby blue polo and a CIA issue bomber jacket, he took a stance of power as he hooked his thumbs into the belt around his waist.
