Community effort storytime

[Grampa]

Making lolcat style gunshot noises... pew pew pew, John picks off his intended targets.

[Mike_D]

Making lolcat style gunshot noises... pew pew pew, John picks off his intended targets.

"Must I do everything," Jack growled.  "You are really beginning to piss me off."  Unable to resist Jack's darkening anger, John thumbed off the rifle's safety with an audible click.

[Speedbag]

And that's when the rabid mutant grizzly-porcupine, escaped from the local top-secret military research facility, broke cover from behind the neighbor's shrubs, screaming with bloodlust and a taste for human flesh.

[NoisyDante]

"Stop narrating from your crappy comic book, Susan, I'm trying to shoot the neighbor's kids!" John shouted to his mistress, who was lying on a bearskin rug before a massive fireplace, a graphic novel opened in front of her.  She really is useless, he though to himself, and he squeezed the trigger.

[Grampa]

"Stop narrating from your crappy comic book, Susan, I'm trying to shoot the neighbor's kids!" John shouted to his mistress, who was lying on a bearskin rug before a massive fireplace, a graphic novel opened in front of her.  She really is useless, he though to himself, and he squeezed the trigger.

She was..... a knockout. She was...... my love. She had hair like Jeannie Shipton back in 1965, but that was then.

[Mike_D]

She was..... a knockout. She was...... my love. She had hair like Jeannie Shipton back in 1965, but that was then.

The sound of the AR-15's firing pin clicking harmlessly into an empty chamber brought John back to the present. 

[NoisyDante]

The sound of the AR-15's firing pin clicking harmlessly into an empty chamber brought John back to the present. 

He was back in his bedroom.  He hadn't gone anywhere.  There was no gun in his hand, no mistress reading a comic book, no children climbing on his shed, no butler bleeding in the hall, no bludgeoned body in a rug.  It was only him, head pounding, confused, standing on the precipice of his own tormented madness.

[KnightofNi]

He was back in his bedroom.  He hadn't gone anywhere.  There was no gun in his hand, no mistress reading a comic book, no children climbing on his shed, no butler bleeding in the hall, no bludgeoned body in a rug.  It was only him, head pounding, confused, standing on the precipice of his own tormented madness.

Just what had he done last night. He remembered meeting friends at the bar, lots of drinks, and then he saw the face of the one person from the group he hadn't known previously.

[Grampa]

That IZish posted picture face.... it was all a blur. Damn the drinks, damn the night... I need to remember that face.

[Speedbag]

That IZish posted picture face.... it was all a blur. Damn the drinks, damn the night... I need to remember that face.

Sorry.

[NoisyDante]

"What's that Livingston?"  "I said 'Sorry' sir, we're out of gin, would you like me to make up a batch of jungle juice in the bathtub?"  John pondered the thought for a moment, but decided no, Margaret was dropping off the kids later and if they showed up will he was belligerently drunk again she may seek full custody.  Not that that would be a bad thing, he wasn't even sure if the kids were his.  "No Livingston, thank you, I'll take an Irish Carbomb in the library.  And hold all my calls, I'm plotting another evil scheme to take over the world."

[KnightofNi]

"What's that Livingston?"  "I said 'Sorry' sir, we're out of gin, would you like me to make up a batch of jungle juice in the bathtub?"  John pondered the thought for a moment, but decided no, Margaret was dropping off the kids later and if they showed up will he was belligerently drunk again she may seek full custody.  Not that that would be a bad thing, he wasn't even sure if the kids were his.  "No Livingston, thank you, I'll take an Irish Carbomb in the library.  And hold all my calls, I'm plotting another evil scheme to take over the world."

far far Too long

[NoisyDante]

owell

[RAT900]

Seated in his favorite leather wingback, he felt the warming flush of the Carbomb coursing through his veins...reflecting on the days events, he decided with renewed alcohol-fueled enthusiasm that it was time to take the bike out for a midnight spin

[lethe]

Tearing down the alley on his trusty '77 Yamaha Champ 80 with an oil soaked fog billowing behind him, he felt ready to take on the world.