Ok, not really but I thought I’d spice things up in EE for a change.
How about a forum game. Someone take the title of this thread and treat it like the beginning of a story, whoever posts next writes the next line, etc. and we see where it takes us.
It was a bloody affair.
This shit is just all fucked up. I vote this thread dies.
That was two.
And yet I carried on.
It started off as a typical Monday evening with a few pints of beer at the pub, followed by me stumbling along the same tired route back toward my flat.
And then I murdered a prostitute.
Fumbling with keys I was approached by the stranger, red heels and red lips, bewitching a face that could kill upon a glance.
Amanda? Oh, man, you know that’s not her real name, right?
Pampers are a girl’s best friend.
Before I go on, allow me to indulge in a long-winded, hundreds-of-pages-long exploration of my childhood in rural Montana, that you might better understand what lead to this most disagreeable of occurrences.
Suddenly, a squirrel sprang from the shadows!
Most of which entails the murdering of prostitutes.
Because the squirrel was, indeed, dressed like a prostitute.
That squirrel was my Mom who was a stripper prostitute who danced under the moniker Squirrel Lady of the Evening and that night was dressed as a prostitute dress as a squirrel who dressed as a prositute.
Maybe it was the booze?
I for one can’t wait to see the banner ads that will come from this thread.
Or the acid, who could be sure?
She didn’t cry.
She couldn’t, she was a squirrel, which was the reason for all the lighting and the strife back in Montana.