Three-Legged Improv

I'm rather fond of Ghost, Trees, Sci Fi

They had cleared the planet of all indigenous life. The moon was now a lifeless red ball stripped of the great forests that had covered the northern hemisphere, the terraforming project ahead of schedule. It had been fourteen rotations now but still he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched, the ghosts of the trees where tormenting him.
 
Man : "Are you sure it's not one of the re-mades, I heard they had started hybrid experiments"
Second man: "No it was a real animal, all orange and hairy. I have called for a priest"
Orangutan: "Gentlemen, I believe you called for me?"
 
Last edited:
"Mr President, please try to understand robotic satalites, with the capability of shooting down ballistic missiles, will require an enermous amount of funding."
Reagan smiled and took another spoonful of his morning porridge before calmly responding to his Secretary of Defence.
"Casper, all we have to do is convince Moscow that this is real and that we can make it happen."
 
Last edited:
I'm gonna have to step in to break this literary ping pong you guys are having. :cool:

The elven princess had nothing else to trade for her meal. The jailor could smell the sweet smell from her tunic through the cell bars as she stripped, a sadistic, expectant grin on his scarred face. Elves are so graceful... the jailor'd never thought about the possibility of the lovely, golden haired princess having a dong--total buzzkill.
--------------------------------------------------------

Chainsaw, super-advanced alien civilization, weird western
 
As the Almighty Thread Starter, I'll invoke section 2F, clause 167-b of Forum Law, and give the next three in Droflet's stead to maintain the flow of things:

-poison, merchant, high fantasy

PS: Droflet also incurs a penalty of -3 points in my newly-made Penalty Chart. I'm keeping an eye on you Drof--just another Breakfast Club troublemaker going against the system. Tsk tsk tsk. If you want to contest my verdict, you will have to take it up above the local powers, all the way to @The Judge.


I could have sworn I posted something. Sorry about that guys. So, Ihe, I'm in the penalty box, am I? :cry:
 
@Droflet, you'll be sitting facing the wall. And all your classmates are allowed to throw at you up to 3 water balloons each.
 
As the Almighty Thread Starter, I'll invoke section 2F, clause 167-b of Forum Law,

Section 2F clause 167-b! No Baking is to be undertaken by members during a visitation from the Mongolian ambassador? Really Ihe it's hardly the time to be worrying about some Victoria Sponge and visiting dignitaries.
 
Their favourite game involved folding to a primitive planet, using their temporal displacement drive to grab some basic creature, and dropping it in a dangerous situation from its species past.

There was a flash of light, a crash of sound and suddenly the lumberjack found himself in the middle of an old style saloon, surrounded by grizzly men chewing tobacco and drinking whisky. He clutched the chainsaw he’d been holding when it all began as one man stood, made a small adjustment to the dark and muddy sombrero upon his head, and drew his revolver.
 
Cake is always important. You should know that. It says so in Section 1A, clause 1, and specifically for Victoria Sponge you can check clause 1c. But yeah, I was writing upside down that day (don't ask why), I meant to say Section F2 clause b-761. My bad. Good eye.
 
Cake, Sewer Maintenance Worker, Court room drama.;)
 
"The defense calls Edward Lillywhite Norton."

"That's me, Ralphie boy!"

"Please direct your remarks to the court, Mister Norton."

"Okie-dokie, Your Honorable Judgeship Sir. What's on your mind?"

"Can you confirm that the defendent, Alice Kramden, did not steal a birthday cake from Ogleman's bakery last Thursday."

"Indeedy-do I could, Mister Lordship Sire. I happen to know for a true fact that Alice wasn't even in town that day. Old Ralphie-boy sent her away."

"And where was that, Mister Norton?"

"To the Moon!"

_________________________________________________________________

Water, salesperson, romance
 
"I'm terribly sorry Miss, but could I trouble you for a glass of water?" the dust-covered man on the doorstep croaked, leaning heavily on the doorjamb.

"Ah guess," she said, warily eyeing his briefcase, "but don't you go tryin' to sell me nuthin'."

Years later, he still called her his oasis.

---

Bottle, Preacher, Cyperpunk
 
Last edited:
*CRASH*
To win the supreme grand prize I'd have to tell this irritating game-show host whether it was the bottle, the Preacher or that spiky cyberpunk kid from Seattle who'd smashed onto the studio floor from the high gaming platform over behind orange velvet curtain number 2.
"Normally I'd use the one question allowed under international game-show law to inquire as to the spread pattern of possible debris resulting from the violent impact we've just heard here in the studio, Mister Master of Ceremonies, but I am ready to make my guess; clearly the entity, or matter, lying on the floor behind the orange velvet curtain number 2 is the spiky cyperpunk kid from Seattle."
After waiting an appropriate time for the audience's incredulous gasping to fade away, I continued: "My reasoning is as follows: had it been the bottle to have been pushed off of the high gaming platform behind orange velvet curtain number 2, the audience would have sniggered in anticipation at the possibility of my guessing either Preacher or cyberpunk...for who would care about the fate of a simple glass container for a sugary, carbonated thirst soother...I heard no such sniggering; had it been the preacher who'd been pushed to his death from the high gaming platform, certainly the audience would have 'oohed' and 'ahed' at the shamefulness of a man of the cloth having his life ended in such a senseless endeavor...I heard no such oohs or ahs of sorrowful reflection; finally, had it been that spiky cyberpunk kid from Seattle who'd smashed onto the studio floor from the high gaming platform over behind orange velvet curtain number 2, there would have been loud laughter and applause from this cynical group of voyeuristic simpletons you've named 'audience', for we all know, the world is a cruel, uncaring place for spiky cyberpunk kids of any country, color or political denomination...as I heard laughter and applause after impact, I deduced that planet Earth is tonight missing one spiky cyberpunk kid from Seattle...I'd like my supreme grand prize to be the blue Toyota Tercel, please."
#####

eggplant, deodorant, succubus
 
CC, you're too clever for your own good :D. Careful, or this might become a thread about who can cram the most words in 3 sentences. Maybe we should make a "Run-On Sentence" contest thread.
 
Apologies for being a party-pooper but I'm not sure everyone's aware that the three words are supposed to belong to specific categories:

The simple rules are as follow: You give: an item, a profession, and a setting or genre, and then the next person must write up a story (or fragment of one) in no more than 3 sentences using these elements, direct or indirectly.

@Ihe, I think your penalty points system may need some additions.
 

Similar threads


Back
Top