Mertyn

Now I have no idea about the structure, the first 500 odd words were written pretty carefully (thinking back I think they may be quite boring) but after that I got on a roll, so there could be spelling mistakes and i'm sure my speech marks are all over the place. Also the title is a work in progress - sounds a bit naff really. All in all i think i'm aiming for dark humour, lets hope i've kinda pulled it off eh?

My girlfriends called Jenny but shes not half as much a nutter as this girl is although she will probably cause me pain when she reads this!

Finally it's loosly based around Portsmouth, UK. I'm at university here, the probably only accurate thing is that we have a pretty busy port, i doubt theres an Informer. and I know precisely squat about how newspapers are made, although I seriously doubt, actually i'm pretty definate that newspapers dont make their own paper (servere artistic liscense!).

Right I really hope you enjoy it, all criticism will be taken and quickly ignored !
No seriously, by just writing a story I already feel like i've achieved alot it feels good!

Lemmie Know what ya think!

Mart




Jenny watched, transfixed by the heavy rollers as they pounded the wood pulp into an off-white blanket. For as long as she could remember she had had an interest, one could even say passion for journalism and everything that surrounded it. Going on a school trip to the local newspaper was like a dream come true. This could not be said for the majority of the other girls in her class.

“Come on Miss! Why are we here? It’s pathetic” whined Marcy Trump. Marcy was the kind of girl that strived for both popularity and attention, but on the whole failed to get either, none the less unlike Jenny she was accepted.

Jenny pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, an unconscious reaction she had picked up that occurred when she was annoyed.

“Ok girls settle down! Remember you are all ambassadors for the school so please be on you best behaviour!” reasoned Mrs. Atkins.

Mrs. Atkins, Sarah, was your garden variety teacher, she had long since given up trying to connect with or even teach her pupils instead graciously accepting her role as a glorified baby-sitter. In the past when asked at dinner parties how she coped with the rigors of modern teaching she would quite simply reply “Cope? Those who can’t - teach” which to this day still made her crack a smile.

“Now, Miss Hardbody has very kindly agreed to take time off from her very busy schedule show us around so lets all be attentive and show our appreciation – Miss Hardbody!”

“Thank you can call me Hannah, ok guys firstly I’d like to welcome you to the Portsmouth Informer. We have been printing non stop since 1945, the end of world war two. You may have noticed that as well as printing our own newspaper, we also make the paper itself, although this process is being phased out as it is now cheaper to purchase the paper elsewhere. Ok as you can tell by the rollers we’re now in the paper production room, after this I’ll show you the printing room and then we will finish up in the office”.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, granted her last story had strayed a bit far from the truth but the case for libel should never have even made it to court let alone cost the informer a hundred thousand pounds. Hannah was lucky to have kept her job, even if it meant dragging a group of snotty-nosed posh kids around a warehouse on her day off.

“So as I was saying although the paper began in 1945, paper was fist produced here in the late 50’s…”

Jenny found all these pointless facts incredibly boring and quickly zoned out, she was more interested in how the newspaper worked; she hummed a nameless tune whilst adjusting her Nikon’s lens to bring the press into focus. Her parents had offered many a time to buy her a newer digital camera but Jenny did not feel this was necessary; the Nikon worked fine and besides she took a lot of comfort in processing her photos in the dark room at home.

Quickly cutting in, in her unintentionally arrogant manor, Jenny called out “So what has been your biggest story so far?” This was a habit which won her few friends, even the teachers, instead of being impressed by her eagerness to learn, were often taken aback by her abrupt nature and slightly cold demeanour.

Caught off guard Hannah was slow to respond “um… I guess I quite often report on new Navy ships to enter and leave the harbour…” almost apologetically to a sniff of disinterest from Jenny.

“Anyway! As I was saying the Informer was originally funded by…”

Just as quickly as Jenny had entered the conversation she had left it, she had just spied directly below her a particularly impressively looking roller, considerably bigger than the rest, Jenny quickly summarised that it would easily crush a human body in an instant.

“Now! We are about to move off to the printers but before we do, does anyone have any questions?” Enquired Hannah.

“Yes!” piped up Marcy, “I’d like to get in your paper, what would I have to do? God knows I’m more interesting that some old ship!”

“Marcy! Language” Chastised Mrs. Atkins.

Hannah had only been with then for twenty minutes but had already her fill of these public school brats.

“Undoubtedly you’d be more interesting news; perhaps you could get your daddy to donate a few quid to a local hospital or something”. Jenny chuckled, receiving a sharp glare from Marcy.

“Right, on that note shall we move on to the printers?”

Mrs Atkins, Hannah and the majority of the school children dutifully trundled off to the next room. Jenny had stayed behind to look over the magnificent machine that lay below her one last time before, she either did not notice or was unconcerned by the fact that Marcy and two of her friends had stayed behind too.

Jenny was carefully focussing her Nikon on a small set of gears and was unaware before it was too late of Marcy creeping up behind her, her camera had been snatched and arm grabbed before she could react. Marcy spun her around violently.
“You think me being in a newspaper is funny? You would even make the back page if you shat a golden egg!”

Jenny was disliked but it was widely know that confronting her was not a good idea, school gossip was that she had been expelled from her last school for stabbing a girl in the leg with a pair of scissors. She calmly grabbed Marcy by her throat and squeezed.

“Give me the camera and walk away”, she ordered.

“No!” coughed Marcy

Jenny gave her no second chance; she had a good stone on Marcy and was considered unnaturally strong for a girl of 15 years. In an instant she had spun Marcy around, her back against the railing, twisted the camera from her now panicked grasp and proceeded to hoist her over the edge of the balcony.

The fall of 15 feet did not kill but stunned Marcy, this did not stop the look of horror as she realised that Jenny’s favourite roller was within inches of her feet. Rolling onto her stomach, she scrabbled desperately through the sodden pulp but was quickly taken with the tide.

Jenny was right, Marcy’s body put up little resistance to the extreme pressure the roller exerted, her ankles and shins snapped almost instantly, the noise of her bones shattering accompanied almost musically by her blood curdling screams mused Jenny.

The roller was shut off quickly by an engineer but the damage had been done, the rollers had reached the tops of Marcy’s thighs, she was dead, blood had flowed heavily out of all her facial orifices, the build-up of pressure inside her body would have lead to extreme internal haemorrhaging.

Hannah, closely followed by Mrs. Atkins was taken aback by the grim sight that greeted her; Marcy’s friends had slumped to the floor, holding each other, sobbing. The engineer had checked Marcy for signs of life before vomiting heavily on the floor. But throughout this truly horrific experience, the most spine chilling sight was that of the inquisitive girl, Jenny she though her name was, calmly adjusting the focus on her camera and taking a series of photos.

“Isn’t it strange…” muttered Jenny between flashes, “She had just been saying how she had wanted to be in a paper…”

Hannah looked around her, Mrs. Atkins had fainted, and the girls were in various states of hysterics.

“One hell of a story… and I can still make the evening press.”

Emmett89

I enjoyed it, but this paragraph seemed kind of out the blue, but it fit of course considering the ending, but maybe try to fit in the rollers a little less conspicuosly.

Blackhawk_t

I liked the story. It does have a Stephen King sort of twist. I also agree with the comment by Emmett89. It did come of the blue, and once I read it, it did kind of spoil the ending.

As far as misspelled wurds. Thar wuz a few. That you can go back and edit a little later. You also had a lot of quotations where there was a conversation, but you had a habit of not putting any punctuation at the end.

I would rewrite this. I had to read it a few times before I caught the pauses. Maybe you could rewrite it a little differently. Not content, but punctuation. It also sounds like she's yelling at Miss Hardbody.

This is your first piece, and I liked it. I won't try and critique anymore. I would recommend proof reading it one more time, slowly. You have some places where words are missing. Overall, excellent job. Kept me entertained.

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Mertyn

Emmett: Looking back it was such an obvious slip up, even my little bro picked up on it, maybe if the story was longer it would have worked but i agree i have to be more subtle. I think i was trying to show how cold and calculating she can be. Thanks for the comment!

Blackhawk: Thanks for the comments! I know i should have proof read it before i put it up, but i finished it at around half 1 last night and i was just too excited about what you guys would think.
I'll definately go over it with a fine tooth comb, replace the offending paragraph and hopefully have an ok story!

I'm glad you guys found it entertaining, thanks for reading!

Mean

Actually, to be technically correct, the process for making paper requires a plant that no newspaper could afford to operate. And after the wood is pulped, it enters a series of purifying processes before it is pressed flat, dried and put on gigantic rollers. My advice would be to remove the part about making their own paper, because I think a reader would find that fetched a bit far. Besides, coming up with a new way to kill Marcy could prove entertaining for you . I mean, a fresh roll of paper is roughly 30 feet long and can weigh up to 20 tons.

I chose to read past spelling, grammar and punctuation errors, because you warned us about that in the disclaimer. I enjoyed it though. Whatever you do, don't stop writing. I liked it better than anything I've ever read by Stephen King. Of course, I don't really like King...at all. Take that as a compliment.

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MEAN:
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Chris Miller

"Just as quickly as Jenny had entered the conversation she had left it, she had just spied directly below her a particularly impressively looking roller, considerably bigger than the rest, Jenny quickly summarised that it would easily crush a human body in an instant."

Wow! That is the most adverbs (7) I have ever seen in one sentence. Are you going for the record?

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