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Short Leish's Stories

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    Short Leish's Stories

    This is more of an experiment than a demonstration since I've never really written fiction before. I plan to just write a series of independent stories a paragraph or so in length, though this might change as this thread evolves. Enjoy. Or don't. Who am I to tell you what to do?

    -----------------------------

    The Storm Down Under

    A storm was brewing. Bad omens were floating in the air. Thunder. The hurricane Down Under passed wind strong enough to cut cheese. The arid land was about to become a floating air biscuit. The back door cracked and awoke Pumpen. Pumpen turned off the Pooh tape he was watching and went to check out the back. He was going to make a stink if the mice were coming in through the back door again, though there was no mouse squeak to be heard. In fact, he didn't even hear the barking spiders like usual. He opened his back door widely, only to see a brown haze atmosphere caused by blowing dust. He realized that hot winds were coming, so he blasted to his car to escape, accidentally stepping on a duck in the process. As he was starting the car, his engine backfired. He had just failed the emissions test the other day. Panicked, Pumpen went to his other vehicle. It had no fuel, so he passed gas from his car to the moped. Pumpen began to rip ass until the moped went 'putt-putt-putt' and died. He was stranded and hopeless as the silent but deadly storm was about to turn him into a puff. But wait - hold it in! A man walked past Pumpen towards the gross winds. The man started sucking air into his mouth and then made an explosion between his cheeks. Kaboom! It was like a hydrogen bomb launched from his mouth at the hurricane and cut the wind into shreds. He broke the wind! After the smoke cleared, the man turned to Pumpen. Bedazzled yet relieved, Pumpen could do nothing except ask the identity of the stranger. The man looked at him and said, "I'm Putin."
    RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
    Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

    #2
    Re: Short Leish's Stories

    The Sleeping Cat

    A bit hungry and needing to relax, I grabbed a Fruit Roll-up from the pantry and walked to the spare bedroom, a room I rarely go in. When I walked in, I gasped to see my cat sleeping on the chair. I hardly see my cat during the day, so I was not expecting to see her there. I sat down next to the chair and took off the Fruit Roll-up wrapper. I expected the noise from the wrapper to awaken my cat, but she was still sound asleep. Neither gasping, opening the wrapper, nor tapping my foot on the wall could wake the cat. Being curious on how deep in sleep my cat was, I exited the room to grab my Nerf gun, the one with the laser point. I reentered, aimed, and fired.

    It turns out my cat was dead.
    RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
    Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

    Comment


      #3
      Re: Short Leish's Stories

      The Late Date

      Gene was lying on his bed in the dark. His bedroom door opened.

      “Yo, Gene, what’s going on?”
      “I’m trying to sleep.”
      “Oh, sorry bro. I was just wondering what you were going to wear for your date tomorrow.”
      “My Target uniform.”
      “What? No dude, you gotta wear something nice.”
      “It’s got a collar.”
      “Yo, if you’re going to date my daughter, you gotta wear something nicer than that – so get your ass out of bed and find something better.”

      Gene got out of bed. He had nothing nicer to wear, so he climbed out his window to go buy a tuxedo. It was late at night, so all the clothes stores were closed. He saw a dry cleaners, and figuring there was bound to be a tuxedo inside, he broke in. He went into the back and started rummaging through the clothes when he suddenly heard a small voice.

      “Excuse me,” said the small voice.
      “You’re excused.”
      “Excuse me!”

      Gene turned toward the voice to see a small boy hanging from one of the clothes hangers.

      “Yes?”
      “Why do meteorites hate dinosaurs?”
      “Excuse me?”
      “Because Mrs. Monroe said that a meteorite came to Earth and killed the dinosaurs like in a drive-by shooting like what will happen if I tell anyone about the secret movie room which is bad because I want to become a big strong dinosaur when I grow up but I don't want to get hit by a rock because that hurts. If I find out why meteorites hate dinosaurs I can be better and make meteorites love me so I can have a friend.”
      “I don’t think you understand what exactly happened.”
      “What happened how do you know what happened are you friends with the meteorites do you think they like Cheetos? I like Cheetos but I will be willing to share for those who want to be my friend but I still have my bag to myself because no one wants to get their fingers dirty I think.”
      “I don’t know about that…”
      “That’s ok that you don’t know this thing because Mrs. Monroe doesn’t know anything or at least that’s what her husband told me when I was on his fire truck that he let me get on but said that if I messed anything up that he wouldn’t save my house if it caught on fire not even if my baby sister was there or my dog. He’s funny.”

      Gene paused for a moment to reflect.

      “You know, if you did become friends with a meteorite, wouldn’t you be afraid of them hugging you? You would be crushed.”
      “You are silly you don’t hug friends you hug your wives because Mrs. Monroe said that you don’t want to get AIDS and die like Jesus. I don’t want to become impure so if the meteorite wants to go all the way and try to hug babies out of me I’ll say no and I won’t be afraid because you shouldn’t be afraid of what God creates and God created everything except himself so you’re supposed to be afraid of God so I can’t call Him fat even though He is. And I won’t be afraid to call the meteorite fat because I don’t want her to eat much of my Cheetos because I let my friends eat my Cheetos but if she’s subconscious she won’t eat much so I can eat more.”
      “You might not even have to become friends with a meteorite, though. Umbrellas protect you from things falling from the sky, so I’m sure it’ll help protect you against those fiends.”
      “I don’t want to hurt the umbrella because one time I borrowed my mum's umbrella because I wanted to fly like Mary Poppins but the wind blew the umbrella out of my hand and hit my neighbor in the head and I ran away because it started to rain and I got in trouble and hit with the clothes hanger because Mrs. Hennings gave the umbrella back to my mum and it was broked. I was worried that the neighbor would tell on me which would be strike two which is my weenie in the vacuum hose again but he died of pneumonia shortly after so I was happy but I learned never to use the umbrella again.”
      “You shouldn’t rule out the umbrella over something you did. Honestly, you need to stop projecting your anger towards your mother onto innocent umbrellas.”
      “I don’t get angry or I’m not supposed to get angry so I don’t get angry because last time I was angry I attacked Mrs. Monroe with a plastic bat because I wanted to kill her because she made me spit out my gum that Genny gave me and I love her and she wears a pretty dress so I didn’t want to get rid of the gum and offend Genny so I tried to kill Mrs. Monroe. Of course I didn’t kill Mrs. Monroe because she has fat calves which are like armor and her husband the fire fighter who is funny said that if you put a hot dog in a hallway its like that with her woman weenie so I decided not to aim for there because there’s no use in aiming for nothing plus there are ghosts at the end of my hallway so I didn’t want to be haunted by woman weenie ghosts so I aimed for her toes. Mrs. Monroe didn’t like that because she keeps corns there and wanted to eat them later I think so she was mad when I smashed them and she told my mum and my mum hit me with her belt which didn’t hurt and I told her so she hit me with the clothes hanger which hurt a lot and I told her so she hit me more with it and I cried and told her I did it because I was angry and she told me not to be angry no more because it makes God cry and when God cries it floods in Asia and kills thousands of babies and hookers and I like to fish.”
      “I’m guessing she continuously hits you with hangers to symbolize her conscious or subconscious desire to abort you.”
      “No you silly goose my mum told me that giving up is for old people and she isn’t old at all at least that’s what all the people say when she takes me to the store but she won't give up on me and she won’t give up on drinking which she told me always to wear something around my weenie when I drink which makes sense because when I pee it won't go on my pants and on the seat that I left without telling anyone then Genny who I love sat on it and I felt bad. She still wears that pink dress and now I don’t want to play tag with her and she thinks I hate her and I don’t because I love her but I just don’t want to touch my own pee because I don’t want to make a mistake I’ll regret my whole life like my mum keeps warning me about.”
      “You know what, kid? I’m starting to like you. Want to be friends?”
      “Ok I will let you have Cheetos if you become my friend which I will get the poofy kind for you so you can get poofy and not fit through the door so I can have all the Cheetos for myself but you could have them too cause you're my friend but you can’t fit through the door so you can’t be mad at me if I eat them all because my mum said that food belongs in the house and if she sees her Cheetos all over the grass again that she’s going to beat me again with the clothes hanger which don’t have clothes on them because my clothes are on the floor because my mum says I’m a pig so when I spilled it on the grass again I didn’t tell mum and put them back in the bag because I don’t want to get hit and become tender and someone will eat me like bacon because I’m a pig but she can’t get mad at me because God made the grass so if she doesn’t like it she doesn’t like what God made and she’ll get AIDs which isn’t so bad because she doesn’t hug me. I don’t want AIDs especially from you because Mrs. Monroe’s husband who is a firefighter told me that women are horrors and I don’t want AIDs if they’re scary like that I don’t want hide under my bed because I was scared and get a carpet rash on my bum because that hurts extra when my mum hits me with the clothes hanger.”
      “Ok, well wait right here. I just have to find something, and I’ll be back.”

      Gene continued his search and found a tuxedo. He then exited the dry cleaners, crawled back into his window, and slept.
      Last edited by Leish; 09-21-2009, 02:26 PM.
      RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
      Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

      Comment


        #4
        Re: Short Leish's Stories

        The Moral

        The car goes over the finish line - you know, that linear line that almost makes car racing more bearable to watch than watching paint dry on two turtles making whoopie on top of a sun bathing nun. Wrinkles. Gross. Anyway, the car goes over the finish line before the other cars, meaning that it receives the first place prize. "Whoopie," everyone thinks and does as this boring ass phenomenon reaches its end at last - but wait, what is this? People pause during their waist-to-waist sports in order to view this odd circumstance - it seems that a lima bean was the driver of the first place automotive. Now there is a dilemma. Do we award this lima bean the prize even though the yellowish-ewwy looking ball isn't human? If we allow this lima bean to accept this prize in this homosapian sporting event, what's to stop zebras, women, or sharks from competing in these events as well? During this much heated debate, the lima bean decided it had enough and committed suicide in front of national television by eating itself. It was a death of a truly violent nature involving a used plastic spork. Millions of children were excited at the sight and have replaced their usual play time routine of playing "cowboys and indians" to "let's stab ourselves with sporks and see how much flesh we can gnaw off before an authoritative figure comes and stops us." Since that day, the lima bean has become a hero of our time because it taught us that although all men are created equal, other species will never be equal to us - and if they ever try to be, they should just die.
        RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
        Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

        Comment


          #5
          Re: Short Leish's Stories

          The Storm Down Under

          That is so full of puns, Its mind... bottling.


          The Sleeping Cat

          Funny... In a dark, weird kinda way.


          The Late Date

          I like how everything starts tieing together once you get into the middle of it.
          A whole lot of nonsense, very creative... I also like how its easy to forget what the story is even about, then at the end there is resolve and Gene is so indifferent in general.

          The Moral

          I hate lima beans, so I'm happy the one in this story died. I also don't care for children so if the lima bean can influence children to have more interesting play times then I like that too. Over all I spose I approve.
          Well there's been a lot of nights in yours and my life, and sometimes we got lonely so we just "got by."
          And we've both felt love for somebody else and other peoples' tongues ended up in our mouths.

          Comment


            #6
            Re: Short Leish's Stories

            Sure "The Hurricane Down Under" has lots of puns, but the choice of puns isn't as random as you might think. I like to pretend I took a page from Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal in finding beauty in the most ugly, like how a pile of manure can have the most beautiful dandelions growing out of it. In a text of farts, you find a story about camaraderie between strangers as a powerless character is dependent on another to escape a life-threatening situation. The deus ex machina symbolizes the miracles friendship/fraternity/sorority can yield. "Lean on me when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on, for it won't be long 'til I'm gonna need somebody to lean on" Also, fart jokes.

            I'm glad someone else thinks "The Sleeping Cat" is funny. I would feel like an awful person if I were the only one...though maybe we're just both awful people. I don't think it would have been as funny if it were in third person since it makes the story feel less real, though at the same time I wish it were third person.

            Thanks for appreciating "The Late Date." I happen to really enjoy that story more than the others thus far, but that might be because it's chalk-full of childhood memories that I twisted.

            I'm really not too pleased with "The Moral," but I forgive myself in the sense that it was a spur of the moment type deal. I typed it rather fast, not knowing what direction I was taking it. When I reread it, though, it makes me feel the way my brain was thinking when I was writing it - you know, when you're hyper and your brain is thinking a mile a minute. The emulation of a hyper brain, that's what I "enjoy" from the piece.
            RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
            Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

            Comment


              #7
              Re: Short Leish's Stories

              Sure Well I can tell a lot of thought went into the puns in The Hurricane story. For there to be so many and for them to help create the story too. Some friends are more leany than others. I wonder how many friends 1 person could let lean on them at the same time... What if they get weary? Do you think they'd lose their balance. Ooops... Well I was about to say I just farted, but being a lady, I don't fart. I'll blame my cat. My alive cat that's not dead.

              I'm not saying I think dead cats are funny. But when you shoot them with nerf guns cause you think they're asleep and they are.. . Well.
              We aren't awful people I don't think. We just... >_>

              The Date is probably my favorite one out of all of them really. The fart puns one being my least favorite. And the moral maybe being the weakest... Not saying its bad... And a few parts are funny.
              Going back to The Date, like I said I really like how everything ties together and I like the main character a lot. I also like the other character and I'm fond of the way they both ramble. Will you pass the cheetos?

              I look forward to more :P
              Last edited by stick; 10-22-2009, 12:09 PM.
              Well there's been a lot of nights in yours and my life, and sometimes we got lonely so we just "got by."
              And we've both felt love for somebody else and other peoples' tongues ended up in our mouths.

              Comment


                #8
                Re: Short Leish's Stories

                Comment


                  #9
                  Re: Short Leish's Stories

                  The Amber Explosion

                  I treaded lightly across the uniform white tiles, all polished meticulously by our Latino maid named Lydia. I thought about Lydia--her unrefined beauty and her enormous boobs--as I made my way towards the semispherical porcelain monument staring at me on the other side of the room, taking care not to step on any cracks, because as the old children's story goes, "step on a crack, break your back."

                  I got closer to my objective as I passed the imitation Salvador Dali painting hanging on the unfinished drywall. My knees shook in either awe or exhaustion, and my stomach tightened. I kept thinking about Lydia, and the day she almost left me. All of a sudden, I felt twangs of searing pain course through my abdomen, and I knew I wasn't going to make it. I pulled down my crumpled trousers and prepared for the worst.

                  The world was on Brown Alert.

                  Comment


                    #10
                    Re: Short Leish's Stories

                    The Trash

                    “Take out the trash.”
                    “That’s not trash.”
                    “What do you mean? This thing has been sitting here untouched for about a week.”
                    “So has your dog but you haven’t done anything about him.”
                    “You leave Ben out of this.”
                    “That’s not Ben, that’s Chloe.”
                    “Oh, where’s Ben then?”
                    “In that trash bag.”
                    “BEN!”
                    “I’m going out for a smoke.”
                    RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
                    Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

                    Comment


                      #11
                      Re: Short Leish's Stories

                      So, I wrote a story. For another forum's writing contest. It was meant to be an anti-prose that punished the reader for continuing, but I actually really like it. I'm not going to copy and paste the story directly here because it does have graphic violence, language, and intense poop jokes. I'll link it at the end of this message.

                      But first, let me just post some excerpts from reviews it got so anyone who is interested would know what they're getting into:
                      "WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF, were my thoughts while reading this..."
                      "I absolutely love this story. It is disturbing, gross, hard to read, a few parts are irritating and repetitive and it is extremely offensive at times. Obviously this was all done on purpose. It must be hard to write so badly and at the same time let the reader watch very strong character relationships form...Honestly, when I finished reading the story, I really felt that I'd accomplished something..."
                      "...I hated this piece and I couldn't finish reading it..."
                      "I liked it, I did. EVEN IF THE AUTHOR DIDN'T WANT ME TOO..."
                      "...In the end, it was too much for me. I was definitely engaged for the entire story, and that story was certainly an adventure. I might have enjoyed it more if the writing style wasn’t distracting and the images the story created weren’t so jarring. Then again, if I try not to imagine what’s happening and just read out loud, some of these lines are hilarious. But I can’t not imagine."
                      "Umm, wow, where to begin? Very contrite and childishly written, and obviously intentionally so. However, the story it told was epic. It was like reading Beowulf but with a love story, in Russia and with lots of poop, which seems fitting for Russia somehow. Also, it had me laughing the whole way through..."

                      I think that's a good warning which the above people plus many others didn't have the privilege to receive.

                      So without further ado, "Innocent Originity"
                      RPGM1 game: [Sexy Blues: Revenge of the Poo King]
                      Game-in-progress: [Nazi Alex Trebek]

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