Here's one of my short stories. It isn't very good. I wrote it awhile ago.

Ben, Dom, Harry, and the Attack of the Killer Bunnies
By DoughBoy95

It was a bright and sunny day in Spring. Flowers were blooming. Kids were playing happily outside for recess. Three of those kids were Ben, Dom, and Harry.
Ben, as evil as he is, decided they should escape school. They ran down to the fence around the field.
“Let’s jump the fence,” Harry whispered.

Ben and Harry jumped over, but Dom stood there looking at the ground.
“What are you doing?” Ben screamed.
“Er... Guys...” Dom started to say.
Out of a hole in the ground, rose a bunny. This was no normal bunny. This bunny had razor-sharp claws and fangs.
“OWWWW!” Harry screamed in pain, “My arm!”
Harry’s whole entire arm was missing. Blood was gushing everywhere.
“We have a bigger problem!” Ben shouted.
Ben was right. More killer bunnies were coming out of the hole.
“HELP!” Harry impatiently moaned.
All three of the boys ran as fast as they could to get back to school.
When Ben, Dom, and Harry got back to school they went straight to the nurse.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!!” the nurse yelled angrily.
The nurse bandaged up Harry’s arm and sent them back to class.
When Dom, Ben, and one-armed Harry walked into class, Mr. Murphy was teaching Math. Probability, BORING!
Mr. Murphy heard the door close and looked up.
“Look who decided to join us for Math.” Mr. Murphy said.
“Sorry, Mr. Murphy,” Ben mumbled. “A bunch of killer bunnies ate Harry’s arm off.”
“Okay, class. What’s the probability that Ben is telling the truth?” Mr. Murphy asked sarcastically.
“ZERO PERCENT!!!” The class screamed.
“Now sit down!” Mr. Murphy commanded.
Dom, Ben, and Harry walked slowly to their seats. They would probably be in for recess forever.
“Ha HA,” the whole class laughed. “You got in trouble!”
Ben, Dom, and Harry struggled through the rest of the day with kids mocking them and making fun of their “excuse”.
At the end of the day, Harry heard a noise in the ceiling.
“Did you hear that?” Harry asked.
“What?” Ben and Dom said.
“That noise in the ceiling!” Harry replied.
CRASH!!!!!!!!
Most of the ceiling fell and from it came little rodents. Killer bunnies!
“AHHH!” the class screamed in horror.
What happened next made everyone’s face go pale. The killer bunnies started to eat Mr. Murphy. Blood was everywhere and Mr. Murphy moaned in pain.
Dom, the smart one, had an idea. Two seconds later Dom was out the first story window. Ben and Harry followed.
“Great idea!” Harry said.
Harry, Dom, and Ben started running. They were going to buy some supplies. Then, they would go find the killer bunnies.
Ben, Dom, and Harry separated. Harry waited at the park, while Dom went to the Guns and Ammo store and Ben went to the hardware store.
When Dom walked into the Guns and Ammo store, a bell rang. Bing-a-ling-a-ding!Dominic had his fake ID ready in his pocket.
“Bob’s Guns and Ammo shop, how may I help you?” the clerk said glumly.
“Do you have machine guns or grenades?” Dom asked.
“Both,” the clerk answered.
“How much?” Dom paused. “Actually, I’ll just pay with my credit card.”(also fake.)
“Fine,” replied the clerk.
Dom took the weapons and headed back to the park.
Dom got back to the park in two minutes, but Ben was already back with the flashlights.
“Let’s go,” Harry said.
Ben, Dom, and Harry went back to the field at school.
“Where’s the hole? Ben questioned Dom.
“Over there,” Dom replied and pointed to a hole.
Harry took a flashlight in his only hand and Ben hooked a bunch of grenades onto Harry’s belt. Ben put a flashlight in his pocket and took a machine gun.
“Don’t pull the tr...” Dom started.
Ben pulled the trigger. What the bullets hit amazed them. Ben shot down 4killer bunnies.
“Where did they come from?” Ben asked in shock.
Dom got the same supplies as Ben.
“Let’s go!” Dom said ignoring what Ben said.
The tunnel was dark and damp. The sides of the tunnel were slimy, probably with mold. Ben, Dom, and Harry were walking with their flashlights on for awhile. So far, they had not encountered any killer bunnies.
Harry started to complain, so they rested on a rock. That’s when they heard the noise.
Chick-Ching! Bang-bang-bang! Ben fired and hit a killer bunny in the forehead.
“ROAR!! ROAR!!”the killer bunny screamed in rage.
“Nice shot, stupid,” Dom screamed .
One of the shots hit Harry in the ear. The ear jumped off, slapped Ben, and ran off.
“Okay...” Ben said. “That was weird.”
The three weirdos started walking again. Dom noticed little indents in the wall.
“What does this do?” Dom thought out loud.
Dom pulled on the indentation and they were swallowed by a dark hole.
“AAAHHHH!!!!” Harry yelled.
It took two whole minutes for them to fall to the bottom of the hole.(Ben counted for fun). When they got there, they were greeted by 2 million unhappy killer bunnies.
“Maybe if were really still...” Ben started. The killer bunnies started to close in.
Harry gave a grenade to Dom and he threw it at the wall.
“AVALANCHE!!!!!” Harry yelled with delight. “Let’s run.”
Ben, Dom, and Harry lived and the killer bunnies never bothered anyone ever again.

I suppose this is the best place for asking a question like this.

Does anyone know what steps to take and any advice to give on having a story published?
A book I'm writing is starting to get along in speed and I'd like to know what I need to do if I wish to have it published when finished.

Cheers

Hey Murf... You DO realize that you did not write The Triangle Inequality, right. I did. First of all, I do not like you posting things without my permission. My name is on that, along with the names of a lot of my friends and none of us want our names to be used without our permission. Second, you DO NOT take credit for something you didn't write. That story is very special to Sierra and I and you have no right to take credit for it. Third, where do you get off saying that it's up for grabs? You told me that you'd try to make credits for it, not say it's yours and offer it to other people. I'd really appreciate it if you took it off and never posted it again without my consent.
Sarah Bryski

At 1/8/07 04:55 AM, PelvicThrusters wrote:
Does anyone know what steps to take and any advice to give on having a story published?
A book I'm writing is starting to get along in speed and I'd like to know what I need to do if I wish to have it published when finished.

Usually writers have editors which they give their works to for review / approval before they publish it, so if you're serious my guess would be to find a publisher

Correct me if I'm wrong

******Note to all the aughtors who write here*******

As a flash artist I come here to look for a story on right?

I came here to see if there is any good stories and what I got is a library of novels with NO names, introduction, plot summaries, genres or anything

If I would want to find a story about a topic that Im interested in, I would have to read through the whole novel before I would have any idea whats it about.
Im sure atleast some stories have genre outline etc but majority that I found did not.

A 2 line summary / discription of whats your story about BEFORE you start is not that hard to do, and it makes other ppls jobs a lot easier

You raise a good point on wanting to know what the story's about to see if it's worth reading but we weren't quite clear on if you wanted the whole thing in a nutshell, or just a quick summary, like one would find in a movie trailer. So we're going to do both, if you don't want the end spoiled for you DO NOT read the next paragraph. Oh! One last thing. this story is built on Edgar A. Poe's definition of a short story which is that a story must be short enough to read in one sitting, must have very few characters, and must have next to nothing after the resolution. Poe being the father of the short story and all, we think we'll go with what he says.

This is the first section of our story. we can't give you the rest quite yet because...well...to be blunt it's not finished yet. but what we do have for you is what we've done so far, and what we plan to do. Our protagonist (who is as of yet unnamed, not sure if we'll ever name him) is a man who's girlfriend was kidnapped by an organazation of hitmen under the front Webcorps. In order to get her back alive he needs to kill twenty people on a list that Webcorps has given him, using the supplies, contacts, and field oporator( codenamed Sterling(as in sterling silver)) to do so. We join the protagonist late in the adventure, on hit number 18, in a remote monastary in Spain, he Hits a guy he thinks is a preists, but is actually a mob hitman in hiding. next hit is in russia, but we're still working on that....check back later for that one.

Now, if you didn't want the first part of the story spoiled for you, but still want to know what is going on, read the next one.

this is about a man. an ordinary man, like me, or you. except for one thing. he's a navy seal washout and he's got to kill twenty people all over the world in order to get his girlfriend back from the evil organazation of hitmen called "Webcorps" join him for his last three hits, and ask the question "who could live their life after somthing like that?"

Right, story time
Father Chavez was not all that he appeared to be, he thought as he walked down the monastery corridors. In fact, he was almost nothing that he appeared to be. Chavez was posing as a man of the cloth, because he was seen trying to kill a politician. That’s what he does for a living, you see. As a mob hitman he’s paid to kill influential marks and make sure that they can’t cause any trouble for his employers. He was good at it too, otherwise the boss wouldn’t have spent so much money to fly him all the way to Spain, and disguise him, and make up that phony letter from the Vatican, just so he wouldn’t get sent to jail.
It was an easy life, nothing to do but eat, sleep, and every once in a while he would go into his room and “pray” with his favorite bottle of communion wine. There was one other thing he had to do, and as Chavez walked through the door to the chapel he was reminded of it. Confession, the only hitch in his relaxing lifestyle. Chavez hated listening to the woes and pities of the local village people. It was a good thing that there was a screen in between Chavez and the confessor, or many would have noticed that he occasionally nodded off.
This time it was a lean, almost gaunt man, of regular height. One look into the man’s somber, melancholy face told “Father” Chavez that he was in for a long sit. The man’s eyes alone were enough to make someone commit suicide; they were just so empty and dead, like if they fell out of his head and rolled around on the ground, they would make a hollow sound. He motioned to the confession booth and the man silently obeyed.
“Father, I have sinned” The man said in labored Spanish as soon as they were in the booth. His grammar and diction were good, but he still spoke the language like a clumsy foreigner.
“Would you prefer to speak in English, child?” Chavez said in English, doing his best not to let any of his Brooklyn accent show through.
“Yes, thank you,” the stranger replied,
“Then tell me of your sins”
“It feels like an age ago, but I know it was only a few months. Someone very close, whom I loved very much, was taken from me”
“They died?”
“No Father, she was kidnapped, we were walking down the street, when a white panel van pulled up and took her, father, it was horrible”
Oh boy, another sob story “That is truly horrible, my son,” Chavez said, trying to see if he could get the man out quickly “but I see no sin on your part.”
The man shivered for just a second and put his arms around himself, inside his jacket. Wait…jacket? It was the middle of summer. A little red flag went up in Chavez’s head “I wasn’t finished father.” The man said “In order to get her back, I have to kill twenty people, on a list they gave me…” another shiver, and several little red flags went up in Chavez’s head “I’ve killed seventeen so far” no more little flags, just one big one now. It said one thing: “OH SHIT!” Chavez was severely shaken up, not just one murder but SEVENTEEN? And he wasn’t finished yet!
“Ah…Ahh…Say forty-three Hail Mary’s and then pray for forgiveness.” Chavez said very quickly, this time his Brooklyn accent showing right through.
The man continued, seemingly oblivious to Chavez’s discomfort “But you know the worse part of it all?” he said as he pulled his hands out of his jacket, revealing a hand gun, and pointing it at Chavez, The man looked at Chavez, through the screen, through his priestly disguise, through his soul with those dead eyes of his.
“You’re number eighteen.”
He fired two shots, right between Chavez’s own eyes. The pistol was silenced, of course. It was a special model, which had the silencer built right in, so you weren’t carrying around a gun that was twice the normal size. The man took a few moments to ask God for forgiveness, He didn’t know that Chavez was a fake. The faux-preist wasn’t even a Catholic. He was, in fact, an Atheist, but the fact remained; he had killed a man who had devoted his life to God (in his mind at least). After the man finished placating his conscience, he exited and was immediately faced with a monk.
“Will the Father be out soon?” the monk asked in Spanish. The man hesitated for just a moment. He had been given specific instructions not to let anyone see him at any time. Someone had seen him, and he was dangerously close to the body. He should kill the monk, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. This man wasn’t on the list, he was just in the wrong place at a very wrong time. The man could hardly kill someone just because they were standing in the way.
“He is praying,” the man said in his semi-broken Spanish “He told me to say that no one is to disturb him until he leaves the booth” the monk looked disappointed, but the man had no time to solace him, the faster he was away from the body, the better. He quickly walked away, towards the exit of the monastery.
As soon as the man was out of earshot, the monk said something in Spanish that could only be interpreted as the equivalent to “Praying…Riiiiiiight” he was not ignorant to the Father’s long prayer sessions that coincided with disappearances of communion bottles, but he did not disturb Chavez, the brother knew that his love of wine would undo him in it’s own time. So, without any further words the Monk went off to the wine cellar to count the bottles.

At 1/12/07 03:30 AM, vlad1950 wrote: As a flash artist I come here to look for a story on right?

My friend, click no further than right here It's a basic outline for a Flash series. Oh, and btw...I already have every main voice role cast :)

Here is a poem I did for my English class. The class seemed to like it. What do you guys think?

Wolf

Walking through the night by the moon light
The cold silver lights my way

I feel the hold of the snow, biting my padded toes
The cold silver lights my way

The solitude helps me think, it is my mind’s ink
The cold silver lights my way

The chill can’t make me kneel, I am happy to feel
The cold silver lights my way

I love nature’s sounds, and all of its rebounds
The cold silver lights my way

A new chill grows inside, wanting warmth, and I must abide
The cold silver lights my way

I howl at the moon as if to mourn, the silence of the forest is torn
The cold silver lights my way

The cry echoes back and I set off
To meet my pack, my friends, my love

The cold silver lights my way

This was a school assignement. We were supposed to write something about our country. Before reading this keep in mind that I'm from Norway so I know I don't write that well.. Anyway, it would be nice to get some comments on it, even though it may not interest you....
Thanks in advance :)

Norwegian Values and Beliefs

The first thing to know about Norway and Norwegians is how they act towards other people. I?fm not lying when I say that a lot of Norwegians are rude and selfish. There are not many people who?fre going to spare a seat for you on the bus, if you come in pregnant or old, and looks like you?fre going to fall on the ground of exhaustion. Why should they? That would just mean they would have to stand themselves.
Most Norwegian would probably just slam the door in your face if you go behind them and are heading the same way. Why should they wait for you to go through? That would just mean they had to stop, smile, hold the door up, and wait for you to pass. A lot of time and strength wasted on helping people. No, that?fs just not the way we do it.
There are of course always exceptions. Don?ft be surprised if someone pushes you on the ground. You lay there, surprised by his/her rudeness and you see people walk besides you, doing nothing. You?fre counting, one, two, three, four, five, and suddenly someone bends over. ?gAre you alright??h and helps you up. That would?fve been something for the history books, a Norwegian person actually bending over and helping a man/woman on the ground. Just don?ft get your hopes up.

Well, you finally meet the family you?fre going to live with in one whole year. Without any useless chitchat you?fre guided to the car and driven to the house. While you?fre struggling with getting the luggage out of the car, Mr. Nilsen and Mrs. Nilsen are watching you thoughtfully and asking themselves if they should help you. They probably won?ft.
The luggage is finally unpacked and you just realize you haven?ft eaten since the morning. Then you hear someone scream in really bad, and barely understandable English. ?gDinner!?h The voice continues to speak as you walk into the kitchen, telling you that they made the Norwegian national food, fa?‹rika?‹l. Or in English, Norwegian lamb stew. You smile, and say something nice to them while smelling the air. I?fll warn you already, fa?‹rika?‹l smells like excrement, and you?fll probably get nightmares from it, but my dad says it doesn?ft tastes like it smells, so I would take his word for it and try it either way.
Now, let?fs not waste any more words telling you how fa?‹rika?‹l tastes, but let?fs skip some months of your life in this new country.

You have finally started to understand the Norwegian language; you know the basics and some polite phrases (which you probably use too often). One thing you may have noticed at this time is that not many people are religious in Norway. The only times you step into a church is either in a funeral, a wedding or at Christmas. Though, if you?fre feeling you?fre missing your Christian life you can go to a congregation, which is really easy to find. That?fs also probably a good place to get some new friends.
Another thing you may want to know of is one of our traditions called 17. May. This is our national day and every year on this day we parade in the street, waving our flags, screaming hurray, and singing.
Last thing, Norway is known worldwide for its beautiful nature and topping hills. You?fre going to enjoy taking a walk surrounded by green, good smelling nature and fresh air. It?fs said that Norwegians was born with ski on their feet. Well, that?fs obviously not true, but it says something of how we are. We love walking, sports, and snow. Some say it?fs typical Norwegian to be good and I?fm saying the same thing. Expect some competition if you want to achieve something.

School is kind of hard to describe. It?fs up to you to decide whether you like it or not. One plus though, is that you don?ft have to wear school uniforms. If we put that aside, this is how a normal school day is. You arrive at 8.40 am. It?fs time for your first class, Geography. You sit down and the teacher walks in. ?gHello class!?h He checks every corner of the classroom from where he stands, and suddenly he gets a skeptical grimace in his face. He opens his mouth, starting to say something, and then slowly swallows his word back down. He looks down, then up again and opens his mouth, again. ?gI see that you?fre sitting two and two.?h The whole class is waiting for him to continue. He hesitates, then continuous. ?gWell, I guess that?fs okay for now, just don?ft make any noise.?h Don?ft be surprised if you hear this sentence over and over again.
The class continues to go on for about 1 hour and 20 minutes, and finally it?fs time for a break.
After the two next classes you hand in two essays and have one test. It?fs finally time to go home, then you just realize; you have a test tomorrow too, and in the second class you have to give a talk. I guess you can?ft relax just yet then. Back to work, at home.

One good thing in Norway is that the gender-equality is higher than any other country. It?fs still pretty usual (compared to the guys) for the wife to be at home cooking and cleaning the house, but in most families they both go to work and send their kids to school or kinder garden.
Norway still has at least one thing more to make equal though, men still gets higher positions and better wages than women, but the women are climbing their way to the top with the guys, so many expects this to be equal in the nearest future.
Most families get no children before the age of 30. This is heavily inspired by the raising equality in Norway. Young women want to complete their studies and take full education, then have children as a successful women and family.
Norway is rich and we are practically swimming in these benefits that the government is giving us. This is because of the oil in Norwegian seas. Each year we earn billions on it, that?fs what made us so big even when we?fre so small.

Many young people start to drink at a relatively young age and alcohol is getting more common for each day, week and month. Many parents find their kids walking the streets drunk with a bottle in their hands. Even though almost everyone knows of this, I believe that it?fs still quite a shock for a parent to discover his or her child drinking and partying. Who knows what else they do?

You have been in Norway for eleven months now and Christmas is coming up. The streets are covered in a thin layer of snow and you meet Santa Claus or ?gJulenissen?h everywhere you turn.
This is a really cozy time for most people. The unwritten Norwegian rule of being selfish and rude has suddenly disappeared a bit and people become a bit more extrovert against other people.
Well, you go to the mall, buys presents to the people you have gotten to know, come home and put everything under the Christmas tree. You notice that tree is starting to fill up and looks for presents that are addressed to you. You find one and start daydreaming of what that person has bought for you. You can?ft wait to open up the presents at the 25.
This is where you are wrong. In Norway you open the presents at the 24, at the night. This is really important, seeing that you get the presents one day earlier.

Finally, it?fs time. You?fre going home! Mr. and Mrs. Nilsen drive you to the airport and say goodbye, with tears streaming down their eyes. You hug them and say that you?fll visit them as soon as you can. Just as they are about to answer your flight-gate opens and you?fre on the plane.
Expect Christmas and Birthday cards for the rest of your life.

Michael Wilhelmsen

I would like to join the writer's guild but you shouldn't expect a lot of stories coming from my side, you see I write in German but I could translate a story or two in English. Nevertheless, do you mind if I would join the guild?

I was sick to death of songs claiming "This is not a love song" when they clearly are, so I thought it was about time to write one that wasn't and here it is..

This is not a love song

This is not a love song.
It's not about the pain.
Though you left me on one cold night
And I know you feel the same.
This is not about my hurting
In fact I'm feeling fine
It's not about our break up at all
It's really about my canine.

Oh dogs!
Oh dogs!
With those wriggly tails
Oh dogs!
Oh dogs!
A love that never fails.

I don't have to buy you presents
I don't go shopping for clothes.
I don't have to search for birthday gifts
All you want is Schmackos

And when I pat my puppy
I know there isn't no other.
This puppy won't leave in the middle of the night
AND SHACK UP WITH MY BROTHER!

No this is not a love song
As you can plainly see
But just in case she is reading this..
At least the dog can satisfy me!

At least the dog can satisfy me...
Going out with jokes about bestiality...

At 12/26/06 10:46 PM, Ebolarama wrote: ATTN: MystWilliams
It's WithoutCease.

Hi.

Hi.

.
.
.

Oh and heres a story:

Eddy

You never check your pulse enough. Not when you’re rushing for the bus station. Not when you bloat on the couch. Not when she quietly fondles with your ear.

This isn’t about you.

You should not look to fantasize in my words. My decorated memories have served none happiness. It is best that you dream elsewhere. Go act your desires. You’re not getting any wiser.

Check your pulse.

All of this from a man who wears a porcelain mask, limiting observation. Looking through an empty bottle of wine you see disorder on the outside of the base – buckled shapes, and confronting hues of the glass. As your vision centres, as it swallows any distraction, the tip of the groove in the bottom of the bottle clearly duplicates half an inch of your surroundings.

You never see a race horse with blinders sidetracked.

A hand cloth does not confuse its purpose.

Blindness stopped no great being.

‘Can I see your invitation, sir?” the fat-cheeked man asked from behind April adorned iron bars. I lifted the paper from my jacket pocket. It limply opened in his hands.

Call cats homesick.

A fake smile parallels the eyebrows. ‘Welcome, sir,’ was spoken as his jiggling face turned to the side and the gates slowly pulled away from me.

I nodded, unable to form a clear thought, aside from the shuddering leaf stemmed from a lonely branch much too extended from home. With one large sum of rain the leaf tore apart, and twisted towards the trimmed grass.

Nearing, I stepped off the walkway towards the last sighting of that broken leaf. I placed my hands against my knees and gazed into the spongy ground. I noticed my shoes gathering water in the worn grooves, and began off the front yard.

Call a missing leaf nascent.

I was in no mood for a party: constant malaise frequently matured into unsaturated nausea. I bear calamity with equanimity. There is travesty in my trigonometry. I counted seven steps.

I knocked seven times.

Entering the montage of synthetic emotions birthed from radiant and superfluous colours, few eyes took notice to my arrival, and the little glances I grabbed seemed distant and childlike: playful, but estrange. After my coat was taken from me, I hesitated to forward into the crowd. A dull confusion absorbed my mind as my limbs numbed to my frozen joints. I dragged across the foyer.

Call children occupational hazards.

The slender-legged women approached me like a stripper on floor duty, sliding into my lap. I hadn’t noticed her hand until it was too late, and was fixated on my crotch. I slowly moved my eyes to hers and counted her blinks. She tilted her head: her neck crooked like a misplaced portrait. Her stiff porcelain lips touched mine. Her hand pulled out of my pocket. I believe she caressed my waist – or imagined.

Eleven green blinks.

It was then I fell to the sound of the Moonlight Sonata – fell to the notes of passion like a starving wanderer before a feast, like weakness in my voice, like gasping. I’d say I followed the sounds to the ballroom, but the sounds led me.

And there lied heaven.

A woman: a bath lover; a pillow hater; a choir singer; an actress; a lover of rain; a fondler of hair; a personality; a people person; a beauty; an image; an idea; a love; a loss. She was inquisitive, comedic, steadfast, gifted, supple, and once heavily medicated. She had departed.

And there lied hell.

I turned towards the ground before having seen her face. Transparency struck me, but struck me only once, and suddenly I had worsened. I was a man in the highway waiting to be hit. I was a measuring tube for emotional agony. I was desert. I was Antarctica.

Even when I continued to stare at the ground with her back to me, all I saw was her face. I lightly stroked my cold mask, and I froze as if I were waiting for a tear to drip from the tip of my nose. I looked towards her as she gazed out the large windows, and I began faintly towards her.

Call visions defeat.

I think startled by my footsteps she turned around. She was without a mask, and I could see each detail that was embossed in my every second vision. Years stood before me; months consumed my thoughts; weeks, days, and moments were all seen in a blink.

One blue blink.

Music never has an empty day. I was full.

I held out my hand and she placed her soft fingers against mine. Stepping across the marble floor, we leisurely embraced one another and danced to Beethoven’s masterpiece from adagio sostenuto to presto agitato. We hung on to the music and swayed as the pianist’s fingers rest, and she looked into my eyes: recognition or curiosity?

Touching my mask I tightened, and tenderly took her hand as she moved to pull the porcelain over my face. Liberating from my arms she turned towards the staircase and briskly rapped from my reach.

She knocked seven times.

I followed and spoke the words, “you seem familiar.” Though my mouth was muffled by the mask more than I had anticipated and she walked on, losing sight of me in the hallways of the upper floor.

And then the room fell motionless in an alluding stage play for my eyes only, and I knew then the farce I had endured.

Call women insomnia.

Hi. I'm in If you'll have me. I mostly do political satire (some would work pretty well with flash), but I've done some poetry and other general prose writing (I'm curently working on a short called The Gravety of Nothing).

Political melodrama,
There goes Carla,
Counting stars and makeing wishes,
Liveing life with all its blisses.

This empty life is getting rough,
It's time to stop I've had enough.

Will someone please tell me what you think of this (be honest), I want to use it for an English assignment.

Here are two short stories I wrote...

Story 1

I tried to go onto my internet browser but nothing happened. I had only wanted to check my e-mail. I massaged my temples – trying to withhold my aggravation. However, this was the equivalent to taping one’s mouth shut when they were about to throw up. Manically, I began clicking my mouse, punching my keyboard. The keys, coated with semen, shattered into the air. Dissatisfied, I took my desktop and began smashing it like an ape. With a faint grin, I listened to the sharp hissing sound of my hands dismembering the screen. My knuckles were reduced to bloody stumps but I remained unfulfilled. I decided my creaking 1.0 GHz processing, 56 k modem computer had to be dealt with. ‘’But how?’’, I pondered. It wasn’t long before my disturbed mind had an idea. With unrelenting excitement, I unzipped my fly, ripped the back of my computer off, and hurled it to the ground. My blood rose down to my throbbing cock. I thrusted my member into the CPU. The metal began to scrape my scrotum. After minutes of pumping, I stood up and jerked off—blood rained off of my bleeding knuckles as I blew my load. Still barely amused, I realized I had to piss badly. With great relief, I watched my golden stream fill the Motherboard.

It was quite a sight, the mercilessly unresponsive contraption consisted of an impressive mix of sperm, blood, dust, and piss.

_____________________________________________
___________________________

Story 2

Sitting in a Starbucks café, you sip your cappuccino---watching all of the college students on their laptops—the sweet smell of the ground coffee makes your eyes water with nostalgia of how easy life used to be. The roasting coffee sat in the air as a vexing reminder of how pathetic you have become to appreciate something so simple. You take a sip of your cappuccino— the black liquid violently burns your throat as it flows down the tissue of your stomach. You decide to leave and are waved goodbye from an acne-faced employee.

It was late afternoon; the faint sun barely visible from the foreshadowing clouds and was now minutes from disappearing from the horizon, creating a dreary gray sky. ‘’Where the fuck is my car?’’, you growl. It is windy outside, an icy gust starts to blow your overcoat upwards, as you shudder from hail ricocheting off your eye sockets. Whilst wandering blindly through the parking lot, you bump into your 1978 Ford station wagon. The doors are unlocked, since there would be no one alive who would have attempted to steal such a wreck. The seat’s covers were ripped off and the odor of the car smelled of decaying fish and a McDonald’s restroom. Reluctantly, you climb in. You put the key into the ignition and after a series of sputters, the car finally starts up. The gear shift contained termites and a fake, rotting wood. With aggravation and disgust, you try to put your car into reverse, it shatters—your face showered with a cloud of dust and mold. You sit down dumbfounded, frantically checking your pockets for a cell phone whilst coughing and wheezing.

Well hey i would like to join because i write poetry from time to time but most of it is like love poems and stuff. But some of you might like it or might not i dont know. Well anyway i would like to join.

Yeah here is one of my poems that i wrote a while back:

Ballad For My Love

Love is a feeling
Washing over me
Cleansing my soul
Setting me free

Bound by self imposed bonds
Trapped in a world of sorrow
No hope for a glorious day
You showed me a tomorrow

Your lips giving me forever love
Breaking the chains that gripped me tight
Your compassion nurturing my dark soul
Chasing away the long, dark night

It tries to creep back in at times
Icy fingers clutching at my heart
Ripping at the foundation of my soul
Wanting to undermine our wonderful start

Bound by self imposed bonds
Trapped in a world of sorrow
No hope for a glorious day
You showed me a tomorrow

Bound by self imposed bonds
Trapped in a world of sorrow
No hope for a glorious day
You showed me a tomorrow

The warmth of your love driving away the chill
I can see the light that guides us and our love
There may be moments of darkness before me
We will make it as we are guided from above

Bound by self imposed bonds
Trapped in a world of sorrow
No hope for a glorious day
You showed me a tomorrow
Giving me all your love
Taking away the sorrow

Hi, I am new and I am also a writer, I made this really good story that would look great in flash. However, I really do not go strongly in making flash. If anyone is willing to create a flash of it for me I would be really thankful. I think my story is pretty good, because some people have read it already and gave it the thumbs up. The thing is based on Dragonball Z and someone in a our real world happened to come to DBZ due to some reason ...

What if something happened in the space-time continuum that caused a rip between the worlds of dbz and ours. I happen to be walking along when lightning came out of nowhere and hit me. In my backpack i was carrying a laptop, and Dvd's of db/z. I awaken in a place where everything was 2D. I was near a lake and saw that I was in the world of Dragonball Z. I realize I was close to the tournament and found myself to have a tail...

"OMG!!!!! What the heck happened!!!??? Man oh man." I was freaked out at first, but then I realized my situation and my fear became excitement. "Haha!!! Wow!!! I became a saiya-jin!!!! Ooo. Muscles...I wonder how strong I am..." I flicked a boulder and it went to bits. She looks overhead and sees Goku flying with Uub. Then a lightbulb went over her head. I then thought of the regeneration ability that I saw nameks do, but I wanted to heal so I pulled out my tail and began to place my hand over my bottom. I began to concentrate and then my hand glowed and my tail regrew instantly. I smiled and said"I need to get to the tournament, if I want a place to crash I might as well make somehting of it with my new powers." She ran to the tournament and bumped into chickenman.

"Bakaw!!! Watch where you're going." He said.

"Hey, your not fighting anymore right?" I asked.

"No, I don't wanna mess with those guys."

"Hey do you think we can switch places?"

"Huh?"

"I really wanna fight please."

"Sure do whatever you want" He gave me the costume and ran off.

I put on the chicken costume and then added extra bandages to fill in for the chest area and hid my new tail. She went into the arena and was up against Goten.

"Ha, this is going to be totally easy!" he said.

"Please, don't judge a book by its cover." She said in a gruff voice. The fight commenced and she was able to see Goten coming at her. She saw everything as if they were in slow motion. The excitement was thrilling, so this is how the Z fighters saw their opponents attacks...wow, this is so strange...I always take a hit but never managed to dodge anything

They paused for a moment. "Hey you're pretty good for a guy in a chicken suit, I'd thought you'd chicken out."

"Not today little man!" I jumped at him and tried to do a super speed and was barely successful. I appeared from behind Goten and threw him as hard as I could out of the ring. He was not so easily tricked, he sent a shockwave to recoil back to the ring.

"Hmph." He smiled and attacked once more. He charged after me and I made myself looked as if he got me by surprise. I did something that I never thought I could do and did an instant dodge, as he was caught by surprise. I instinctively appeared over his head and did a slam on him that made him fall out of the ring.

"Wow.." I stood their in amazement. "I didn't know I can do that." It was as if my body already knew how to fight, it was amazing.

Vegeta sat as he analyzed what was going on. "Hmph...he doesn't even know what he's doing, he has power, but he lacks skill."

The Ref announced me as the winner and I laughed. Next up was Pan. "Hey little girl, where did you learn your martial arts from?"

"From my grandpa!" She replied happily.

"Wow, he must be pretty strong huh?"

"Yep."

"Let's have a good fight ok?" Pan nodded and they began their dual. Pan unleashed a flurry of punches and I amazingly dodged them all. She landed a hit on me and as a reflex I hit her to the wall outside of the ring. They named me the winner.

"Owie..." Pan began to have tears but I came up to her and said..

"Sorry!! I didn't mean to hurt you!!! It was by accident, my body reacted on its own." Then I smiled. "You're pretty good though for a young girl your age. You'll be better than me in no time if you train."

"sniff." Pan smiled. "Yeah!"

"What's up with that guy? He just beat Pan and Goten like they were nothing!" Said Gohan.

"Something fishy is going on..." Said Goten. " It wasn't fair!"

"That's what you get for not training you slacker." Said Vegeta. "Heh. That fighter has no skill at all, look at him. For every hit he lands he looks surprised. Not only that he has that look of someone who just had their first fight."

They just stared at him and nodded.

"NEXT UP IS TRUNKS AGAINST CHICKEN MAN!!!" Said the announcer.

"Hey dude, I am not going to lose like all the others, they underestimated you. I won't make that mistake, you better watch out." Said Trunks.

I nodded and then went into a pose. I wanna try Chichi's snake technique. I dug up whatever I remembered about Chichi's fighting technique and went into the pose.

"Hey! He's using my technique!" Cried Chichi.

"What is he?" said Videl.

I started with the offensive and sent whiplashes of hits onto Trunks. Trunks blocked them and hit me in the face. I regained my balance and swung a kick at him that sent him flying a few feet. He kicked the ground and we fought really hard. I switched tactics and then we were landing equal hits and didn't budge an inch.

"Hey that looks like when Trunks and Goten fought years ago." Said Videl. "I can never forget that."

I didn't know how to raise my power level and I thought better about trying to blast energy at him. So, I allowed myself to go into a choke hold.

"Haha, got you now." Said Trunks

"Oh, that is exactly what Trunks did to me, I don't think that guy has a chance now!!!" Said Goten.

I smiled and did a flip in midair, "Let's just go with the flow." I was behind him and then I swung his body around and around and threw him out of the ring.

Everyone was extraordinarily surprised. Yamcha said, "No one ever tried that move in a choke hold."

I amazed even myself, though my mind had no idea what it was doing, my body seemed to know. I soaked up information like a sponge, noting every move I made.

Next up was Vegeta.

"oh...man...." I was incredibly nervous, Vegeta was super strong and I knew I couldn't stand a chance against him, but there are always a chance. I didn't know the limits to my power. This was my chance to get a place to crash.

"I don't know who you are, but if you think you can beat me..."said Vegeta.

"I don't think I can beat you Vegeta, but I am willing to try."

"Really? Then let's see what you got." He got ready to attack.

"HOLD on!" I said. "Let's make it a little interesting."

"Huh?"

"I need a place to crash. If I beat you, you gotta let me have room and board at your place. Don't think I don't know your wife is the President of Capsule Corp. You guys got to have a big house so I think you can make room for me."

Vegeta smirked. "Yeah, and what do I get if I beat you?"

"Well, I'll tell you how I beat the others. Plus some bonus information about how to regrow limbs."

"What regrow limbs."

"Well, I know how you can replace lost parts of the bodies from fingers to other things, it may be useful." I winked.

"Hmm." Vegeta thought about it. "Deal, if you beat me that is."

"Alright!!!" I was excited...

I didn't know what I would do against Vegeta, power wise I didn't even know how I would stand against him. I knew I can't beat him with my skill because frankly I only fought once in my entire life before this day. I didn't know what was going on, but I just felt the urge to fight him head on. It was so unlike me because I never really wanted to pick a fight with anyone ever...
I took the offense and tried to kick his gut. Vegeta dodged me and grabbed my leg and slammed me to the floor. I pushed up and landed a kick in his jaw. We began to fight so quickly that it was hard for the spectators to see us at all. I surpised myself even further as I kept up with Vegeta's attacks. I knew that I was far too inexperienced to take him on, so I focused on thinking of a tactic that I never saw the Dragonball Z fighters used. Something much like what I used against Trunks. I thought of it and began to feign that I was at a disadvantage. I was at the edge of the ring and I pushed back Vegeta.

"HAAH!!!" I sent him a few feet back. I was breathing very hard and was really exhausted after the fight lasting an hour.

"What? Tired already?" Though he was also a bit fatigued, like he always was, Vegeta made it look like he was not at all tired. I knew better.

"No, not yet. I can't believe how weak you are."

"What?!" Vegeta gritted his teeth.

I knew that the only way I could outsmart him is to get him angry. "Your punches are more like a baby hitting me. What are you, born yesterday?"

"How dare you!!!" He was getting really angry.

"Whatever, I guess old people do get really weak no matter how strong they look. What are you 100?" I laughed.

That was all Vegeta could take, he charged at me and tried to hit me out of the ring, but i turned my head in the knick of time and grabbed his arms. I flipped him over and he was out. This move was never done in the series so I knew he wouldn't see it coming.

He felll out of the ring and he rubbed his head, "What this is impossible, how could that chicken toss me out like that?!"

I knelt down and smiled, "You lost your cool."

He looked up, "What?"

"You got a sore spot for people challenging your strength, you got angry and lost control of the battle. Not to mention I used something that you didn't expect to come. If it weren't for the ring, you would probably beat me in a fight, because I have no idea what I am doing."

He scoffed and looked away, "You weren't too bad a fighter, you just got lucky."

You have no idea....I laughed, "I know how strong you are Vegeta, you didn't even use a fourth of your strength. You could've beaten me if you hadn't been overconfident."

He just stood up and walked away. Next up was Mr. Satan himself, Buu lost to Vegeta in the other fight.

Hercule looked really afraid. Oh no! this guy...this guy is gonna kill me...Oh What am I going to do?

I really did not want to hurt him because after all, things won't be good for everyone if I did, so I devised a plan. I quickly charged at him and then whispered in his ear. "Just play along and you won't get hurt, i'll have to beat you but think of it this way you'll never have to worry about it. Don't worry, I won't make you look bad, you'll still be a hero." He was sweating but he nodded. This was too quick for anyone to see, to them he was just bobbing his head.

I made my attack and he softly touched his face, he instantly shouted in pain. I then hit him multiple times and then he cracked his back and screamed with agony. "Oh my hip my hip!!!! Ow!!!" Then I pushed him out of the ring. Everyone was in shock as I showed that I beat their hero. They looked really sad, and the announcer said I won. Hercule looked down in misery... At least she didn't hurt me....

"Well now chicken man, what have you to say now that you're world champ." asked the announcer.

I took the microphone and then said, "I don't accept this belt as world champion!" Everyone in the audience gasped. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves! You had the World's biggest hero fight in this tournament even though he is clearly getting too old for it!"

"Uh, but sir, he said he was fine--"

"It doesn't matter what he says!!!! In his mind he really didn't want to let everyone down even though he knew his strength wasn't as good as it use to be. He cared about everyone so much that he risked his own life to fight for you all. Don't you all know what would happen if I was a bit stronger and less considerate about him? He could die fighting in this tournament, his bones are not as sturdy and neither is he. You all gotta face the facts that even a hero needs to retire!!! Hasn't he helped the world from being brought to destruction?! What have you all done for him? He saved your lives and all you do is cheer for him to fight! He can't protect you forever!!! There will be a time when he'll be the vulnerable one and he will need your help someday!!! I say this belt should go to Mr. Satan, for trying to help everyone even in his old age!!!!" Everyone cheered as I gave him the belt and I smiled.

"T-Thank you." Said Hercule.

"Don't mention it, I told you that you would remain a hero." Then I walked off. Then Buu stood in front of me.

"Why you make Mr. Satan lose?!" He looked pretty upset.

"Oh Buu, don't you understand that if Mr. Satan tried to fight again he may sprain more than his hip? I mean he is human, and you can't really always be there to protect him if he continues fighting like this. He needs to retire and take it easy."

"Oh....ohhh." Buu smiled. "You nice lady."

I then was surprised. " AAAH- hahaha!!! No no, I am chicken man!!!"

"huh?"

"Shh...don't let anyone know, I don't want to make Mr. Satan feel any worse than he does in front of all these people."

"Oh ok."

"Thanks Majin Buu." Then I walked into the stadium room, I bumped into Goten.

"Aw, oh its you. Pretty good fight out there huh. It was sorta nice of you to give Mr. Satan a chance at retirement." He said.

"Well, if he kept on going, he'll hurt himself more than anyone can hurt him." I replied.

"So where did you learn how to fight?" The others walked in as well.

"hey! It's the chicken man." Said Pan. "Haha, you fight great!!!"

"Why thank you Pan. You're not so bad yourself." I smiled and she giggled.

"So, where'd you learn to fight so well." Said Trunks.

"Well...Just now." Everyone fell.

"Wh-at do you mean by just now?" Asked Chichi. "And how did you learn my fighting technique."

"Well I saw it happen on this really old video. I thought it would be really effective against Trunks so I used your's Mrs. Chichi."

"How'd you know my name?!" She glared at me.

"Well...if I saw you in the old World's Martial Arts Tournament video, then I should know who you are. Also, how you married Mr. Goku." She blushed and didn't say anything after that.

"Well, I think you're pretty good, you beat my husband, and that's not easy to do." Said Bulma.

"Yeah I know, he's a really good fighter, if I hadn't thought of using his own force against him, I would have lost. If only he hadn't gotten so angry--"

"OK! Let's just go now!!! I am getting hungry." Vegeta interrupted and began walking out.

"Cool! Let me go get my stuff."

"Who said you were coming along!!!???" Demanded Vegeta.

"You did, remember." Everyone stared at Vegeta.

"I said know such thing!"

"Well you and I had a bet that if I could beat you, you would be providing me with room and board. Even though I got the prize money, I don't know my way around here so trying to get a place to crash isn't so easy ya know! Remember it was part of the deal!!!"

"You said WHAT!!!???" Screamed Bulla. "I will not have a man in a Chicken costume live with us. Dad!!!! He's weird!!!"

"Vegeta!!! What if this guy is you know...." Bulma looked worried.

I understood completely what was going on. Vegeta just shrugged, "Well we can't help it now. I did give him my word."

"Don't worry, I won't be a bother." I laughed, and I heard something roar loudly and my belly started to feel heavy.

"What in the world was that?!" Said Gohan.

"I think that was my stomach..." I said. "Wow, I must be really hungry because I never heard it sound that loud haha..."

"Well, lets just all go to my place and eat ok!" Said Bulma.

We arrived at the Capsule Corp. and had lots to eat. I chowed down like never before. I ate almost as much as Vegeta did, and everyone looked at me in surprise.

"What?" I said with my mouth full.

"Wow you sure eat a lot." Said Yamcha.

"Thanks dude." I said and then I finished eating.

"I never saw anyone other than a saiya-jin eat like that." Said Krillin.

"HUSH!!" Said Videl. "Well now sir, why don't you tell us about yourself."

"Well for one thing I don't have a change of clothes so do you mind if I borrow some. I just got here so..."

Trunks got up. "don't worry he can borrow some of mine."

"Um...I was hoping I could borrow some of Mrs. Bulma's clothes." THen everyone looked at me as if I were crazy.

"Why in the world would you...never mind, I am asking a man in a chicken costume." She got a T-shirt and some jeans that fit me. I went into the changing room and didn't bother to tell them I was a girl.

"All well, they'll figure out eventually..." I said and I got dressed. I carefully hid my tail and came out. It was then did everyone looked as if they were about to die in shock.

"YOU'RE A GIRL!!!!!???" Everyone yelled.

"Yeah, sorry for not mentioning it." Everyone fell again. "You guys were too busy talking that I couldn't really tell you all."

"Aw man you mean to say that a girl beat us?!" said Trunks and Goten. Vegeta didn't bother to say anything but he blushed with embarrassment.

"How old are you?" Asked Bulma in surprise.

"Seventeen in April." I replied.

"Dang! She's your age Goten." Said Trunks.

"And she beat us?!" Goten hit his forehead.

"Who said girls can't beat guys." said Eighteen casually.

"Yeah! I bet Eighteen could whoop all your butts to Taiwan!!" I said.

"How would you know that?" said Eighteen.

"Well you did almost win the last tournament..." I said.

"So now that you are all dressed, tell us about yourself." Said Videl.

"Alright, I will tell you guys." My eye twinkled. "I am the Great Chickenman!!!" I went into a chicken pose and everyone fell over. Piccolo glared at me.

"Stop kidding around, YOU AREN'T EVEN A MAN!!!" Said Gohan.

"Forgive me for posing Saiyaman's stupid ways." I said, Gohan blushed. "Well, being a girl helps me keep my chicken secret. haha Just kidding, the real dude vamooshed from the tournament. We switched clothes, he wasn't even really muscular at all."

"Why'd you want to enter then." Asked Piccolo, he looked suspicious.

"Well for one thing, I thought I could use the zenny to fund my stay here. Then I felt an urge to fight like heck." I shrugged, "I don't fight at all, this was my first time."

"You mean to tell me you have no fighting experience what so ever?!" Demanded Vegeta.

"Uh...huh.." I nodded

"How in the world did you beat everyone?! It must be pure luck!!! I refuse to believe that such an inexperienced girl defeated me without ever fighting a battle!!!"

"It was luck, and basically my own body reacting to the fight. Everything was either instinct or based on something I have seen before. Every fight I was learning something new. Anyway, I am from America and I am a Vietnamese girl named Michelle Nguyen. Nice to meet you all."

"How is it possible for you to learn how to fight in a short amount of time?" said Piccolo, "that is nearly impossible."

"Hey, I ain't the one who put this upon myself, I just did the fight."

"So that's why you don't know your way around here. You are an Amerian." Said Bulma.

"Yeah, but you are pretty famous there. Capsule Corp is the best place to spend the time here."

"So you manipulated me to get a place to STAY?!" Vegeta was furious. "I don't care if I promised you could stay here, I refuse to allow such a deceptive girl reside in this household!!!"

I glared at him, "It's not just that." I stood up and bowed at him. "I came here to also receive your training!"

With that Vegeta was left speechless. I continued, "I know I am strong, and personally I don't know how strong. I wish to control my power and I think you can really help me with that. You are an incredible fighter, and I am willing to go through any program you wish. I just need to master my own power."

Vegeta Grinned and Trunks said, "Umm....I don't think you would want that..."

Vegeta interrupted."Nonsense, if she wants my training then let her. If I train you, you have to keep up. If you don't then you must leave here."

"Ok! But let's start tomorrow ok?" Vegeta walked off as I said that. "Hey I need someone here to help me fly and control my energy?"

"I guess I can help," Said Gohan. "Hey Trunks, Goten, help me out ok?"

"I'm coming too." Said Piccolo.

We arrived in a nearby valley and Gohan showed me how to fly, in no time I was zipping through the air. "Ok now for energy attackes." said Piccolo.

"Do you know any?" Asked Gohan.

"One, but I really don't know how to control it and make it stop." I said.

"You just need to push it back in your body and relax. Let's see it." Said Gohan.

"Ok then...KAAAAA......"

Gohan's eyes widened. "What?"

"MEEEEEEEEEEHHHHH"

Piccolo was surprised, "It can't be!!!!"

"HAAAAAAAAAAA......"

"Incredible." Said Trunks.

"MEEEEEEEEEHHHHH....."

"Her power level is skyrocketing!!!" Said Goten

"HAAAAA!!!!!!!!" A tremendous amount of energy was unleashed from my body. I was as surprised as the others were when it came out. The others tried to block my energy, but I could feel that they were having a hard time doing it. I tried to separate my hands but it split the beam so I stopped.

"Darn it!!! She's too strong!!! She wasn't kidding!!!" Said Piccolo.

"Grrr..We gotta go Super Saiyan!!!" Said Goten.

"No!!! WE can't in front of her!." Said Gohan.

"Forget this, if we don't then we'll be blown to smithereens! She's bound to find out anyway." Trunks went super and the others followed him. Still then even at their maximum, I was still overpowering them.

"Hey!!! How do you stop this thing?!" I screamed.

"Just relax and push it back inside!!!!" Replied Gohan.

I began to relax and then visualize the energy coming back inside me. That moment, they cancelled out the beam, All of them looked like they were beat.

"Ha...hah....haa...that was...incredible." Said Goten.

They were all out of breath. "You weren't kidding with the power...." said Trunks.

"I told you I don't know my limits yet."

"You mean there's more?" Said Piccolo.

"Yeah....I think"

"I don't think we should do more energy beams...like that. Let's practice control."

For the rest of the day we trained on control, I was also scared of my strength...I really needed Vegeta's training

Everyone was beat and we didn't notice how late it got until midnight.

"Thanks guys, I think I can somewhat control my energy release." I said.

"No problem, Goten and I got to go now. Bye." The two brothers flew off.

"I would like to know what you truely are, no human has that much strength." Said Piccolo grimly.

"What about Uub? He's pretty strong too." said Trunks.

"Well he is an exception..."Said Piccolo.

"I am human." I said. At least I was"What about you? Are you human?" I knew full well what he was, but knowing too much is not cool.

"No...I am a Namek. Alien." He turned and flew away.

"I figured so." I said.

"But really, are you sure you're human, cus I never saw anyone as strong as you." Said Trunks

"Says the guy who goes blond. Why don't you tell me whether I am human or not. I should be the one doubting you."

He blushed, "Well, I guess there is no hiding it. I am a half saiya-jin."

"Another alien, I thought so."

"Yeah, I was born here, but my dad's the full blood besides Goku."

"Cool, let's go now." We flew back to the Corp.

I have read a couple of the sumbmissions of writers in this club. You are all very good. I almost feel like I don't belong here as a writer myself. Maybe I'll submit some of my writings in the near future. assuming no one objects with this noob doing so?

It has been quite some time, anyways, I thought I'd post a lil som'-somthin' that's been mulling about in the old thinkin'-machine that I might use in a future school contest or whatever, depends...:

In the entire spectrum of human emotions, there is one that is stronger than all the others. Despite one's greatest faith, no, that emotion is not love, and despite one's highest logic, no, that emotion is not fear. It is a different one, one that derives its strength in its rarity and in the intensity of the acts it wills those afflicted with it to do. That most powerful emotion is hatred, and although only a select, unlucky few fall prey to it in its most genuine form, anyone can, especially in large cities. Where overwhelmingly large amounts of people of many varying conditions are forced to live close to each other, resentment of one's fellow man is bound to follow, and with it, a higher chance of an occurence of true hatred. The potential is always there, in good men, in bad men, in something in between, and even in those who are more machine than man. All these types of people have one thing in common: when that potential becomes reality, destruction is inevitable.

Milton sat casually on a park bench outside a modern-styled corporate skyscraper on a crisp spring afternoon. While he seemed to be in a deep calm state from an outer view of his motionless, expressionless face, behind his sunglasses his eyes flitted about madly, latching onto every face that passed him by. You're invisible, Milton, he thought to himself. Go ahead and take a look at all of them. They're like ants, just scurrying aimlessly to meet their own needs, and like ants, they are all so simple, so alike, so stupid. And now they scurry in fear because of you, Milton, only they don't know it yet. How you hate them, your inferiors in every way. Good thing them and their precious city will all crumble to the ground, and you hardly have to lift a finger. Only two more odd jobs, and they'll be at each other's throats. Best part is, nobody'll ever know it's you. There's only one person in this whole city who knows who you are, and he can be taken care of soon enough. It's almost time now, Milton, just keep your eyes peeled.

A woman entered Milton's field of vision as she walked through the doors of the building. Milton pricked his ears up, and then slowly got up from his seat. He walked around the side of the building, with not a single falter in his step or a twitch on his face, methodically, mechanically. In a dark alley on the building's side, he stopped near a thick, rusty door, locked shut with all manner of bolts. He rapped softly on the door exactly six times until a young man in a security uniform opened the door.

"Alright, I let you in, where's the mo-" the young man's body toppled unceremoniously to the floor, with a figurative knife in his back and a real one in his chest. Wrenching his knife loose and placing it in the pocket of his coat, Milton entered the dimly lit security room. There was only one other guard present, a slovenly fat man fast asleep at the camera monitors. After a small bullet-hole in the back of the head lowered the risk of waking the man up, Milton disconnected each monitor, one by one, methodically, mechanically. He stopped himself, though, before disconnecting the lobby. Walk away in plain sight, Milton. Let the ants feel their own stupidity once it's too late.

Once inside the main building, Milton took an elevator straight to the top floor. With sunlight still shining through the large-paneled windows, he entered a conference room. A group of old men were seated around a long, polished table, with the woman standing in the front of the room giving a presentation. Every head in the room was affixed on Milton, with their eyes wide open and their mouths agape.

"Who are you? We're in the middle of a meeting here!" the woman barked at him. Milton's expression did not change. He began to slowly make his way around the room, gently tapping his fingers on the table, methodically, mechanically. His mouth opened, and smooth, whisperey words escaped his lips.

"I suggest you all leave the room."

The terrified men gave each other confused looks. One hissed "it's him! It's the killer!" and at that, they were out the door and running for their lives. The woman stood her ground with her arms folded, glaring at Milton.

"What do you want from me?" she uttered, her voice beginning to shake. Again, whisperey, almost inaudible words came from Milton's mouth.

"I don't want anything from you. I hate you, and I hate all people like you."

"And what kind of person is that?" She was now desperately trying to find conviction in her voice. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"All...people." The muffled pop of a silenced pistol was heard by only two people, and felt by only one. Milton walked out of the lobby with a smile on his face, adjusted his tie, and began to walk down the street, still darting his eyes at everyone who passed him, feeling the same seething hatred for each one, methodically, mechanically.

And that's just the first part. I'm planning a couple other things from different peoples' perspectives. Tell me what yall think!

Interesting group. Writing is something I enjoy most, an exposure of how I feel at the time. Alot of my flash work revolves around little or no plot... Though I keep alot of ideas in-store, I would love to one day have time to put the effort and feel of my stories onto flash. But for now, they will remain in word documents.

Heres a short script I wanted to implement into a flash. It follows the second person view of yourself, and the reveal of a new girl. There would be a narrative perception, a few words now and again... so here it is.

Going Home With A Stranger:
by Mark Aberdour

You’re lying in bed. The ceiling above you is staring back as you dwell over your thoughts of the holidays to this point. So far… they’ve been shit. The last couple of days you’ve been looking forward to a party, your best friends… damn it’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid, this seems almost the perfect opportunity.

You roll over, the roof no longer contains your interest and you now start staring at a bottle of alcohol over on your shelf. You want to drink it now, but you must leave it otherwise your going to be the only sober person at the party.

The minutes pass, they seem longer than they ever have before, you try to close your eyes and they just open again… at this point you realize your not going to get back to sleep and you sit up. The second your blanket falls off your chest you get hit with a rush of cold, you walk to your closet and get dressed, though it feels weird doing so… seeing how its 2:30am.

Force of habit makes you sneak upstairs towards your living room, but then you realize your parents have gone to see relatives inter-state for a couple of weeks. It’s good to get a break from them, being the only child they pay far to much attention to you anyway, it can get annoying. You walk around your house looking for something to do, you then look outside. You know nobody is going to see you, their all probably asleep. You walk back downstairs into your room, open your closet and unfold a shirt you haven’t worn in years, underneath you find a small stash, you grab a single joint and walk outside.

You start walking down your street, its cold but intriguing. The moon is at a half, slowly reflecting rays towards the road your walking down slowly. Each lamppost sparking the street into a dim light with a small florescent tint. You pull out your lighter and spark up. Straight from the first puff you feel so much warmer, and soon you start to relax… things start to slow down, everything is so much more calm.

Your about half way through the joint before you hear a sound, a vague sound from afar. You quickly put the joint under your jacket and look around.

“Who’s that?” you call out, and then you hear footsteps.

You turn around to see behind you the whole time, was a girl. Smiling… You can barely see her due to the small essence of light following her. Her hair is wavy and dark; her eyes though barely visible are gleaming at you, almost as if she’s hungry. You’re enticed by this unexpected exotic and begin a conversation.

“Hello” you say
“Hello” she replies

It goes quite for a couple of seconds, your about to ask her name before she cuts in.

“What you got there?” She said

Shit, you think. She’s caught me. She cant probably smell it, god damnit what if she knows who I am… what if she knows who my parents are?

“You just going to stand there or offer me some” she cuts in
“Uhh…” You reply confused “Sure”

You hand her the joint, it still has quite a bit left. She takes it from you and takes a hit, holds it for a while and then exhales slowly before going back again. You say your name and ask of hers.

“I’m Nicole” she replies “I haven’t seen you around here”
“That’s odd, I’ve lived here for a bit” you reply
“Is that so…?” she enquires before taking another hit from the joint.

Once again things go quiet; you become mystified by this girl. Who is she? Why haven’t I seen her before?... and why the fuck is she taking all my weed?

“Here” she says handing you what’s left of the joint, its almost as if she read your mind
“Thanks” you say taking the weed and you take a hit, its almost gone.
“You don’t talk much do you” she says looking at you puzzled
“Well I could say the same about you” you reply
“You’d think that because you don’t know me” she says, taking a step towards you

The last of your weed is gone, you drop the butt on the floor and crush it, she looks down and then back up at you. You find it awfully tedious, and try to look away… but she continues to stare. You look at her, she’s gotten quite close to you, your barely standing a foot apart… what is she doing? you think.

“I gotta go” you say and you attempt to dart off but you feel her grab your arm
“Don’t go, stay with me” she says looking at you

What the fuck is she doing? She’s still looking at you, as if she’s trying to break you down mentally. This bitch might be crazy, you decide to stay still, and you stare at her… again. After about a minute she breaks the silence.

“Come back to my place” she says
“Wha…….t?” you reply, to shocked to think what’s going on… this is going fast.

Before you say anything else she starts to walk, still holding your arm, pulling you along with her. Her hands are soft though she walks quite fast. After about 30 seconds you break the silence…

“Where do you live?”
“Just over there” she says pointing towards a house, its quite large, positioned right next to a small graffiti playground.

A few minutes pass and your at her front door, she lets go and turns around to you. She then moves closer, her lips are only a couple of inches from yours.

“Come in” she says and she draws back and walks towards the house.

Woah, looks like I’m getting laid before the party you think to yourself, and you follow her in. Her house is dark, and very very cold. You shiver when she closes the door, its almost as if it’s a freezer.

“What about your parents?” you say as she grabs your shoulders and pulls you towards her.

“Out, for the weekend. Don’t worry” she says and she falls onto a nearby sofa pulling you down on top of her.

She pulls you by your shirt towards her and you kiss her, the second your lips touch hers you smell and taste a very strong vodka presence. Is this girl drunk? Sure does seem like it. You don’t care though, you continue to kiss her but after a couple of seconds, she slides from underneath you and you fall onto the couch.

“Come on” she says, and you follow her once again along a corridor… towards a small room. You cant see a thing, and its colder than before… even under your jacket. She pushes you backwards and you land on a bed. You then feel her climb on top of you.

“Let me show you the pleasures of going home with a stranger” she says as she leans forward to you, you close your eyes awaiting her lips again… but they don’t touch. You scream, she giggles.

A pain, a pain like none other is emitted from your chest, you clutch it and yelp while this Nicole girl starts to moan. You put your hand to where the pain is coming from and you feel metal, a knife.

“Oh my fuckin… YOU FUCKING BITC” you scream, you don’t get to finish the sentence, you feel the blade exit you and collide with your throat. The girl starts to laugh louder and louder as you choke on your own blood, pouring out of you like a busted tap. Nicole starts to kiss you again, your blooded lips full of rage but you can’t stop… the pain is unbearable.

She grabs the knife once more, you can barely make out her figure in the dark, she raises it… and you learn the consequences of going home with a stranger.

As it would seem, the effort and timeless duty of creating this enviorment, characters and visuals would be gigantic.

At 2/28/07 08:29 AM, 2good2b4goten wrote:

As it would seem, the effort and timeless duty of creating this enviorment, characters and visuals would be gigantic.

It would be gigantic but it would be very worth it in my opinion.

I found it very interesting and I would like to see it made into a proper animation. So get to it :P

I'm almost finished with my new book, though I'm not a published author, I just do it for fun. I will post it here when I am finished, which should be within the next week.

At 2/25/07 08:23 PM, hanz1 wrote: I have read a couple of the sumbmissions of writers in this club. You are all very good. I almost feel like I don't belong here as a writer myself. Maybe I'll submit some of my writings in the near future. assuming no one objects with this noob doing so?

post away, my friend. All newgrounds peopel are welcome.

id like to join, i write stories and comics all the time!

Any opinions? Any constructive criticism? Just scroll up the page please....

I have a good idea, but i don't know if someone has already done it so tell me if someone has.

My idea is basically call this film "Pranks.."

Basically the whole thing is a bunch of game characters do pranks on other game characters. Not stupid pranks, the original pranks. I have a few in mind that I definitely want to be in there but other then that me and the animator can work things out. So tell me if you want to get in on this idea. I am willing to get 50/50 on this with them. since i made the idea and dialogue, and he animates it.