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So this is an idea I just had a few minutes ago.

Every week, I'll post a writing exercise in here. Then, whoever wants to write for that can post their results. (Or not, if they'd rather; hopefully we'll get at least a few.)

Other people can feel free to suggest writing exercises, too; for organizational purposes, just tell me if you have an idea and I'll post it here sooner or later.

So, let's kick this off with an introductory exercise!

Prompt 1: A character suddenly feels unwelcome in a familiar place.

I'll write something up for this, anyone else is welcome to as well. Looking forward to seeing what people do.
So this thread has been neglected because nobody, including me, wrote anything for the first prompt.

Let's try another prompt, one that's a little more specific, and see if that works better. Or if people see this and decide Prompt 1 sounds fun, they can go with that.

Prompt 2: The main character wants a sandwich, but someone else is going to ridiculous lengths to keep them from getting it.
I'll try writing something for both prompts.

Prompt 2
Spoiler :
Steve: "Hey, Ron."
Ron: "Steve."
Steve: "So, what's up?"
Ron: "Nothing much, just went to the bakery to buy some bread, we were all out."
Steve: "Cool."
Ron: "I'm gonna make a sandwich, want some too?"
Steve: "Well, why not."
Steve: "Hold on, let me make it for you."
Ron: "Thanks, I guess."
Ron: "So how was stuff in Germany?"
Steve: "I could not understand the language at all."
Steve: "But apart from that, the landscape and the experience were refreshing."
Ron: "Here, take this lettuce."
Steve: "How old is it?"
Ron: "Bought it just yesterday, why?""
Steve: "I think it looks rotten."
Ron: "...?"
Steve: "Let me smell."
Ron: "Well?"
Steve: "Not sure, but I think we should get a new lettuce."
Ron: "We don't have any here right now."
Steve: "Can you do without the lettuce?"
Ron: "Well, I think I can."
Steve: "Why don't you go and make yourself comfortable in the living room, I'll be right there."
Ron: "Ok then."

*Ron leaves*
*Steve butters the bread very slowly*

Steve: "Ron? Do you want margarine or halvarine?"
Ron: "Margarine, Steve, you know that, right?"
Steve: "Damn, I already put halvarine on it."
Steve: "Don't worry, I'll make another one. This one will be for me."

*Steve takes another slice and butters it*

Steve: "Those tomatoes in the fridge, are they still OK?"
Ron: "Should be."
Steve: "They don't look like it."

*Steve squishes the tomatoes a bit to make them look old*
*Ron arrives*

Ron: "You are right, they don't look very tasty to me. How odd."
Steve: "You know what? I'll put on some sweet peppers instead."
Steve: "How about some eggs?"
Ron: "Eggs on a sandwich? I don't usually do that, but it probably tastes fine."
Ron: "Just go ahead and do it, I'm getting hungry."

*Ron leaves again*

Steve: "And then some ham, right?"
Ron: "Sounds good. There's a few more slices in the fridge."

*Steve eats the ham he finds and throws away the plastic*
*Steve pretends to look for something in the fridge, making loud sounds*

Ron: "Can you find it? Hold on."

*Steve swallows*
*Ron arrives*

Ron: "That's odd, it should be right here."
Ron: "We don't have anything else to make up for it either."
Ron: "How are the eggs doing?"
Steve: "The water is almost boiling."
Ron: "Great."

*Ron leaves*

Ron: "I'll go to the supermarket tomorrow morning."
Steve: "That's fine."
Steve: "Odd, isn't it?"
Ron: "..."
Ron: "Yes, quite."

*Steve puts the eggs in the water*
*Steve opens the fridge*

Steve: "Is there any cucumber left?"
Ron: "Not in the fridge, but there is some in the basement."

*Steve walks over to the basement*
*Steve finds a cucumber and eats a bit from the edges*
*Steve walks upstairs again into the living room*

Steve: "I think we might have a mouse in the house."
Ron: "Oh no. There are probably multiple as well."
Steve: "Nah, you would have heard that. But one mouse can go unnoticed."
Ron: "I'll check the mousetraps here in the living room."
Steve: "Okay, I'll check the basement."

*Steve walks down into the basement again*

Steve: "Got it. Looks gross, though."
Steve: "I'll take it outside."

*Steve comes upstairs and walks through the kitchen*


Steve: "Shit."
Steve: "Okay, we're not going to eat those eggs anymore."
Steve: "I'll take care of it."
Ron: "I think we should forget the sandwiches for now."

*Steve walks outside and comes back*
*Steve walks into the living room*

Steve: "I think you might be right."
Ron: "Also, I'm sorry."
Ron: "I know it's my fault you got sent to Germany for your job."
Ron: "Karma is a b****. I really needed that sandwich."
Steve: "Yeah. Don't worry, we'll find something else."
Ron: "I'm just glad you're back now so that I can apologise to you about what happened."
Steve: "I'm sorry too."
Ron: "...?"
Steve: "I mean, about the sandwich."
Ron: "Well, I'm glad we're even now."
Ron: "How about I take you out to the pizzeria tonight?"
Ron: "Gotta wait for Frank to come home of course."
Ron: "But kind of as a celebration that you're back."
Steve: "Thanks, Ron. I think that's a great idea."
Ron: "I'll call them right away to make a reservation."

*Ron dials the number and makes a reservation*

Some time passes.

*Frank opens the door*
Frank: "Hey, Ron, I'm back!"
Steve: "Hello, Frank!"
Frank: "Steve, is that you?"
Ron: "Yep. I'm taking us to the pizzeria to celebrate his return."
Frank: "That's a great idea. Count me in."

*Frank stuffs a pepper container and a salt container in his pocket*

Frank: "I'm sure we'll find some pizza delicious."
Frank: "Do they even have pizza in Germany, Steve?"
Steve: "I don't think they have."
Frank: "You sure you can handle it, then? It might be too spicy after this long."
Steve: "I'm pretty sure."
Open ending ftw.
I made a sandwich/derp

"Soaring Above Neverending Distances, Wishing Icarus Could-"
- Should Ascend Not. Deadly Wings, Ill-Chosen-
"Scorching Altitude: Notorious Discrepancy. Wax Is Cooled-"
- Science Applies None, Daedalus, When It's Creative-"
"Storytelling? Author Nucleating Disagreements, Whose Interjections Caused-"
- Stratified Arrangements Nicely Done. Words I'll Consume Here.

It's barely legible and entirely bad, but it was fun and procrastinateness.
I'm afraid that's as Sandwic. Which is only tasty on a good day Melonspa
The joke is that every sentence is cut short at SANDWIC until the very last one, which finally completes the SANDWICH. ovo
(04-04-2013, 08:28 PM)Mythee Wrote: [ -> ]The joke is that every sentence is cut short at SANDWIC until the very last one, which finally completes the SANDWICH. ovo

Then I'm terrible at literary jokes and will make this rebuttal which shall also suffice for the Writing Exercise

There was once a SandWitch
She was a mighty bitch!
She was delicious and great
but alas I put her on a plate

And i ate her :33

You know whom this Witch be?
It would be Mythee!

(jks about you being a bitch :P )

(Mythee if you ate poison then this was the worst sandwitch i've ever had Melonspa )
xD!! You into vore? That's gross, man. And SBARG called me the Prince of Doom, so a witch I am not! However, your intestines are due for an apocalypse allright. Your bathroom's gonna look like Ragnarok spewed a viscous universe of gastric warfare all over, if you even reach it in time. If you don't hurry up and get out of public and to the WC's, it might just spell the doom of your human dignity. B'D

Spoiler :
[Image: comeatmeowl.gif]
We should battle every literary exercise unless Fogel is like NOOOO
While I am broadly in favor of shenanigans, I'd like to keep this thread on-topic, and it's starting to drift a bit.

Good to see people are taking an interest in this, though.
Stop. Take a look around you, and tell me that I am wrong. We are not where we were a minute ago, were we? Of course, old man, I am not infallible, as you tell me, but you cannot deny that one moment we were in the Jeffersons' living room, the other we were home.

What's that? Your memory? You're getting on, old man, but you're not quite there yet. I remember clearly that we were having dinner at the Jeffersons'. Bill was about to cut the steak. Little Tom was complaining, again. What right did Bill have to name his son Thomas, I ask you. That kid's going to have a right hell of a time getting through school when they get to learning presidents. Ancient history, I know. But we still haven't gotten to the problem: Why are we home?

This isn't home, you say? Doesn't explain how we've suddenly gone and vanished from Bill's place. Ooh, you're right, old man, we've no proof that's happened. Maybe we've all just fallen unconscious. Maybe you've just fallen unconscious and I'm just taunting you, old man. But why would I do that? I'm just Jeremy, loving son. I help you to your feet and I make sure you don't fall. You're my old man, old man, and it's all I can do to protect you now - which is why I have to spur your thinking now!

Why are we home?


[to be continued. need to sleep.]
[i have no idea why they're home.]

Don't talk. There's a saucepan to your right, a glass of water for you in the other hand. Don't talk, or you'll find yourself - not in pain, precisely, but you definitely won't be making yourself many friends.

Yes, old man, nothing's changed. Yes, you're lying down. Yes, you had a bit of a nasty turn when you realized how we'd managed our earlier stunt. It's not impossible that I pushed you too hard? But at the end of the day, when there's two people left on the planet, they got to tell at least a few lies to each other.

No, I can't 'give it to you straight'.


Damn it, old man. Your hearing's going. All right, I lied. I've already given it to you straight; you're just imagining everything else - no, no, this is happening, I'm talking about the little alternate explanations you're coming up with right now. Ignore them! Ignore everything and ask yourself the truth.

For the love of fuck, old man! Open your eyes! They're all dead! Everyone's dead!