The New Bad Writing Competition...just for laughs! (LANGUAGE)

[Gumby]

“Do you come here often?” crazed mercenary Lance Ironstaff mused to the comely female replacement next to him in the foxhole.

The buxom huntress brushed back her diaphanous locks, then drew her compound bow back effortlessly. A crisp release, and she deposited a broadhead into an enemy’s brisket while he was a at full gallop. The bow had a serious draw weight, and she had led the target with practiced precision. A good strong female lead.

“The name’s Skylar,” the archer stated flatly, “You got any rations with you, Slick?”

“Give you my last candy bar after seeing you make a shot like that, ”Lance quipped, “No breakfast?”

“I can’t kill on a full stomach, but scoring a point makes me ravenous,” she gushed.

“Scoring a point?” the mercenary spit.

“Yeah,” Skylar responded, “I keep score, it’s just a diversion. The game is the hunger…”

Hey, what did you expect me to write?

Wow! What an amazing strong female lead! If I were about 40 years younger, I could totally see myself being her. I've always wanted to be buxom and have diaphanous hair. I have to give you points for such original dialog, the back and forth between the mercenary and the strong female lead was really scintillating! I had to go smoke a cigarette, that's how good it was, in fact, I'm still smoking as I type. Wonderful work, T!

[Foxee]

I've tried to get my locks diaphanous but that seems to be the one thing that Pantene doesn't make a shampoo for.

[The Tourist]

@Gumby and @Foxee, you weren't supposed to like it! It's supposed to be "bad writing."

BTW, I must comment on the "strong female lead" remark. The bow Skylar used had a firm draw weight. To pull that much, you'd need a 'strong female.' The guy she whacked was running. When you shoot at something moving, you aim in front of it, this is known as "leading the target." Hence, when Lance Ironstaff referred to the shot (not the female) he opined it was a "strong female lead." Inside joke, obviously a bad one...

My wife read this opening. Now get this, she thinks I should write YA! She reasoned that in Disney cartoons, Walt inserted adult humor. With my bizarre outlook on life, she figured I could write an interesting story for the kids, and lampoon the genre at the same time.

[Gumby]

Well, you shouldn't write bad stuff so good if you don't want us to like it! In this thread really bad is really good!

[The Tourist]

Well, you shouldn't write bad stuff so good if you don't want us to like it! In this thread really bad is really good!

How far do I have to sink if my lead is named "Lance Ironstaff"?

[Foxee]

@Gumby and @Foxee, you weren't supposed to like it! It's supposed to be "bad writing."

You'd be amazed what we can like.

BTW, I must comment on the "strong female lead" remark. The bow Skylar used had a firm draw weight. To pull that much, you'd need a 'strong female.' The guy she whacked was running. When you shoot at something moving, you aim in front of it, this is known as "leading the target." Hence, when Lance Ironstaff referred to the shot (not the female) he opined it was a "strong female lead." Inside joke, obviously a bad one...

BTW, already knew all that which is why it was funny! oo, if I already knew does that mean I can be a 'strong female lead', too? Seriously, I'm shopping for that Diaphanous shampoo next.

My wife read this opening. Now get this, she thinks I should write YA! She reasoned that in Disney cartoons, Walt inserted adult humor. With my bizarre outlook on life, she figured I could write an interesting story for the kids, and lampoon the genre at the same time.

Hey, stranger stuff has made it to the top.

[The Tourist]

Foxee, I'm exchanging PMs with another member as we speak. I had fun writing the piece, and I guess you don't have to like a genre to actually compose something.

I must admit that I'm getting attached to diaphanous Skylar. This is going to draw flames, but I'm seriously thinking about writing a decent YA short story, just to get my feet wet. I cannot believe I just said that...

(Don't worry, I have about ten inside jokes already to go!)

[Jeko]

Welcome! Glad you stumbled in. I see you wasted no time with this celebration of annuity and Russia. When I read that his hair was swept back like it had been swept back it caused wonder of a sort, like wondering. Congrats on a masterful piece of...stuff.

Thanks! I might do a paragraph about his chest hair next.

[NathanBrazil]

It Burns
It burns and yearns. The fleeting dove of my mind caresses the thoughts of my heart. I light the match in the dark cave of my brain and wonder, where it all went wrong.

I am the light and the darkness. Smell me. Smell my sulfurous undulating thoughts that pulsate through my blood and out of my mouth.

“Hallo . . .” a disembodied voice shouts above me. I am at the bottom of the pit – the hole that swallowed me up – a dilapidated, abandoned well. “Hallo . . .”

My voice, scratchy and ragged, tries to claw its way out of my throat. “Hello.”

“Someone is down there.” Three heads merge together at the top of the well and form a white pulsing blob – my eyesight blurred from days of inconsolable weeping – the agony of solitude. “Did you need some help?” they ask in unison.

“No,” I reply. I hear the sound of retreating feet. “Maybe a rope? I was joking, you idiots!”

My friend the rat was nibbling at my feet again. Or was I nibbling the rat’s feet. “You are not my master, Rat Feet!”
My mind was swirling down the drain of despair again – toilet water.

Someone tosses a coiled rope down the well and it lands at my feet. “I can’t move! Please I could use some help!”

“No. I don’t think so.” Jesus flips a bible down the hole and says, “The lord helps thems that helps themselves.”

The rat is nibbling again – nibbling and niggling. Maybe I have time for a little light reading. The bible is just inches from my arm – bent at an odd angle that only pipe cleaner arms can bend. I’d like my light bible reading now.

A light feels me hole. My hole. They haul my body out and it detaches itself from my withered, emaciated, whisper of a soul. “Dude, that dude is dead,” says one.

“Yep,” says another.

But I’m still here. Burning and yearning.

[Gargh]

O-M-G! I never saw that coming!