Saturday, May 17, 2008

Well, Dean Wormer tagged me to continue a story...

I had been shuffling around the house for a few hours and already felt tired. The doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw a figure striding away from the house, quickly and purposefully. I looked down and saw a bulky envelope. I picked it up. The handwriting was smudged and cramped, and I could only make out a few words. (Splotchy)

"Meet me at two o'clock at Grisham Square. Don't be late!"

What? I already had an appointment at that time. In fact, that was the only reason I had even taken off work that Wednesday. But, when I saw the photos, I knew I had to go and see what the hell was going on. Oh gosh, now I wish I hadn't, but how was I to know then that Elizabeth would take this whole thing so far? (
Freida Bee)

She had exposed the nefarious Republican oil-for-neckties program, skillfully dismantling its diabolically brilliant mind control scheme, giving each man, woman and child his or her freewill back, and this had made her a national, nay, worldwide, heroine, but -- the fear -- the look of stark, otherworldly terror on the -- could they even be classified as faces anymore?

No, I had to swallow the overwhelming dread that was threatening to force me into complete shutdown, collapsing on the hallowed ground where I would silently, naively wish it all away until it came for -- me. Fruitlessly wiping away a flood of icy sweat, I knew I had to steel my resolve, look upon those photos once more and let them burn their horrific images in my psyche. Permanently. (
Randal Graves)

Yet something was tickling my psyche, trying to work it's way to the surface of my consciousness like that bad memory for grade school I buried long ago. The one where I had to give a speech to the whole class and was trying to imagine them in their underwear so I wouldn't be nervous, when I suddenly realized I was the one who was in my underwear as I had forgotten to wear pants. I realized that the faces in the picture weren't faces after all. I was holding the picture upside down. (
Dean Wormer)

Ah, that was better. What had first appeared as people and then abstract art now resolved into pictures of cells. Plant cells. I stifled a chuckle thinking the cells were heads of people, but wait! The lower row of cells had twice as many chromosomes as the first row. Then it hit me, the gaunt figure striding away from my door was Elizabeth's old botany professor. His ambling gait percolated back into my consciousness. What could he want with me and why give me pictures of mutated cells? (Don Snabulus)

I tag Moody Minstrel, DewKid, TheHim, and Hypatia


Moody's thread is here.


Pandabonium said...

...and how do I make my voice sound like this?

Splotchy said...

Nifty twist! I like where it's going.

Thanks so much for being infected.

Dean Wormer said...

Ha! Very nicely done. Much better than mine.

Don Snabulus said...


I tag you to if you want a stab at this increasingly convoluted plot.


certainly! Interesting idea.


Nah. It is all fun so far.

The Moody Minstrel said...

Okay, it's done.

Am I supposed to notify the people higher up on the list?

DewKid said...

Am I supposed to continue after Moody's, or after yours?

Swinebread said...

mmm I haven't done this maybe because my writing sucks

You done a much better job than I could have done

Don Snabulus said...


After mine.


No biggie. Tagging should not bring pressure. You have plenty of great content without chain blogging anyway.