Enthrall us in 10 lines

[mixed]

10 lines maximum. Write something, anything, fiction, fact, whatever. Entertain. i'll start the thunderball roll

It wasn’t that I had wanted to kill her particularly. I had thought that she was a beautiful thing as I held her head against the blue plastic moulded chair. The strap on her little red dress was broken, it snapped when she got rough. I could see her bra, brown with a floral pattern which I couldn’t quite make out from this vertical angle. The image aroused me slightly. Her face was puffed up all red. I’m not sure how long I’d been holding her, but she had cried to exhaustion to achieve this effect. Her mascara had ran but only a little. I knew that she used the brand you see on the television breaks, claiming it will stay on the whole day. I knew this because I had rummaged through her bag when she wasn’t in the room. Just to inhale her scent, comprehend her. I was her stalker, I was addicted to her. To me she was my teacher. A woman twice my age.

[kiddo]

Cool topic. I'll bake a little story right now, without further thinking...

A man wearing a huge, black coat, that kind of reminded me about how silly my aunt Lilly looked like in that brown suit she wore constantly, was walking past a couple of lively kids that played soccor, or something. He walked fast, was in a cold sweat, hallucinating. One of the kids said: "Hey, mister! I like your moustache. Can I borrow it?". The man stopped, looked curiously and perplexed down on the little, red-haired boy that had asked him such a absurd, but at the same time vital, question. The man walked quickly away, as if he suddently discovered the meaning of life. They never saw each other again.

[Clark Nova]

Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders
Screw Flanders

[ie]

The
Meaning
of
Life
consists
of
these
three
awesome
things...

[eatawiiner]

Skeet
Skeet
Skeet
Skeet
Skeet
What?
Huh?
Huh?
What?
YEEEAAAA!!!!

[captainofbeef]

Wrinkled lines covered a weary face as the man in black hugged the woman that he loved. Tears trickled down both of their faces, blending together in a watery mixture of pain and sadness. She released from his grasp and headed towards the moving van. Suddenly, a crack echoed through the air, forcing the man in black to look into the murky grey above him. Seeing nothing, he then turned to his beloved. She lay on the pavement, dark red flowing from her neck creating a puddle. The man in black removed his cell phone from his pocket, striking the number 8, speed dial commenced and a women picked up. "The deed is done," he stated, closing his phone and walking away.

[mixed]

Thats cool Beef, you fit a lot into such few lines.

[captainofbeef]

Thanks!

[criterionmaster]

Yeah, I liked everything you guys have posted so far, especially eatawiiner's! Keep 'em coming.

[kiddo]

Kiddo is trying to be philosophical ( ):

Why are you here?

Because of you. And those people over there, in addition to those people you can't see where you now are standing.

Oh, but where should I stand then, so I could get a look at them?

Well, you can go to the left, and you can go to the right. But, and this is important, no matter which way you go, you will physically die.

But do I need to see those people you're talking about? I do not want to die without a reason.

Well, you can stand still, and still be able to see them.

How?

[agentknight]

Captain Kchshulichge sat in his leather chair, piloting the SS Lpzchpul with a warm smile erupting violently from within his toothy mouth. Lady Zschplzschzgh entered from the rear door and said in her sultry voice "morning, captain," before briefly revealing her lippy clit. His eyes widened. "Are you blushing, Kchshulichge?" she queried daintily. "Perhaps a little," said the captain, his usually limp penis quickly becoming a throbbing thick red rocket. Noticing this, Lady Zschplzschzgh removed her top revealing three perky breasts. "I didn't realise you were a Breastonian," said the captain. "I told you at last years VzChioircsch Ball," she said. "Ah yes, I must be getting forgetful in my old age - SIX HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FOUR YEARS OLD."

[criterionmaster]

Masterful!

[lordofdance]

Leroy could feel himself getting choked up as he looked proudly upon the finest army of bitches ever a assembled by any one pimp. "Bitches", he began, his lip quivering,"there so much fine muthafuckin' booty gathered here tonight that muthafuckin' astronaughts can see this shit from outer muthafuckin' space!" The bitches cheered his empowering words, their breasts and booties jiggling with unbridled enthusiasm. All grew silent as Leroy was about to continue, but before he could begin a fiery haired amazon emerged from the shadows. "Leroy" her voiced boomed, "I'm here to take control of your bitches. Give 'em up or face total castration." "Bitch, I'm gonna bust yo...", suddenly Leroy became speechless as he watched his genitalia fly through the air. "Punk ass mutha" the amazon said, guiding away Leroy's bitch army. "Shiiiit" was the last word he uttered before going into cardiac arrest.

[dontdigonswine]

This is similar to something we did in my creative writing class, except it was in 55 words or less. I'll post a couple of those on here, I suppose:

Manny gripped his rope elegantly and tugged with haunting glee into the oversized cube he was standing in. He remained silent; he was always silent when everyone was watching. All confused bystanders shrugged unimpressed. Manny, pale face still painted on, sluggishly climbed out of his invisible box and packed away his rope. Another harsh crowd.

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

A confused clown paid to persuade,
The crowd’s quiet faces into amusement,
Artificial happiness on the face; smeared with paint,
Silent seclusion only adds to confusion.
Puddles of distilled tears on her pillow at dawn,
Like rainforest’s morning dew,
Just realize when her routine is on,
At night she dreams of killing you.

[dontdigonswine]

Just whipped this up too:

He sifts through the fragments of his victim's life, his grey eyes the bleak reflection of the sadness he stares at. Pictures of joyous occasions, mementos of spectacular events, the moments that no one now remembers. The man gently gathers all items together, the crisp, dusty photographs rustling like fallen leaves, and places them in the right pocket of his coat. He searches the rest of the house for other significant knick-knacks, the objects that may have had an impact on his victim; the objects that would be thoughtlessly thrown away by relatives as reminders of a happy existence yet abrupt death. He reaches the kitchen and is approached mournfully by a tan, shivering feline. The man picks up the poor beast and heads home. He arrives at his small, dark dwelling, sore from the day's tremulous work, and walks to the back room of his house, kitten in hand. Entering the room, dozens of other cats eagerly meet him, purring with excitement. The man sets down the new addition to the group, and walks to a distant corner of the shadowy room. Photographs cover the entire corner like a memorial of once blissful faces- a hitman's only family.

[Evan]

Dont be so harsh I'm not the best at writing great stuff.

The Man had no idea who he was, where he was, or what he was doing. He only knew that he was alive. He checked all around him only to see nothing. Suddenly, the Scars and battles of what were his past life surrounded him. He rushed through them trying to find a way out only to find himself alone again. He was wondering if he would ever see the light of day again. As he walked forward into the unknown, he started to see what appeared to be a table with a loaded Pistol on the top.He pondered on what to do with it. He questioned just keeping it, leaving it away or his last resort:Suicide. The man was not suicidal in the least bit. Enraged with his thought he snatched the gun and fired all of the rounds into the forboding darkness. He awoke to find himself huddled on the damp, cold ground holding the gun, with a Dead Man beside Him in a pool of blood.