Monday, December 24, 2007

Writing Exercise Results

Stranded on a frozen tundra, you look up to see a vast herd of reindeer stampeding toward you. It could be time to use your time travel device, but there's no telling where and when it'll deposit you.

Tighe shoved the ball into the underwater goal. He gestured both thumbs up to his nemesis, an over-muscled red-haired swimmer. Red grabbed Tighe's wiry body but Tighe squirted out of the man's grip and dove under him. Red dove afterward. Out of air, the other underwater rugby players gave up pursuit. Tighe bounced off the bottom of the pool and spun Red upside down wrapping his arms and legs around Red. They grappled, their arms a blur of movement over slick bodies. After a moment, the two men stopped. They weren't out of air or ready to black out. They just stopped, crouched down and kicked to the surface. They surfaced at the side of the pool. Cody and Dane watched them get out of the pool still not breathing heavy.

"How do you guys stay underwater that long?" Dane asked.

"Mind over matter." Tighe pulled off his white Speedos, wrung the water from them and toweled off. The paleness of his skin betrayed the temperature of the water. He slid dry Speedos back up his legs. Red toweled his body dry. His thighs were as big as Tighe's waist.

"I don't think about breathing. I just stay underwater and protect the goal. I surface after you guys give up," Red answered.
A brilliant white flash filled the pool. A man dressed in artic clothing fell into the water with a grand splash. His clothing dragged him under the water.

"Where did he come from?"

"Should we let him drown?"

"Nah, dead bodies spoil the water."

--Dave F.

Reindeer!{click} Knife poised for my chest. {click} Geez, more reindeer...I thought they were endangered. {click} Gorillas! {click} 72 virgins. Hmmm...nope, don't want to be a dead Muslim. {click} Reindeer? No . . . plain old deer I think. {click} Is that Mt. Vesuvius? {click} American Idol set? It really must be my time to go. {click} A young Isabella Rossellini in lingerie. {click} No!!! I didn't mean to click and this freaking thing doesn't have a rewind button. I'm just going to kill myself now and get it over with. What's this? A lounge singer convention. No!!! {click}

--Bill Highsmith

A brilliant ball of energy blasted across the ice field leaving a dozen reindeer charged, antlers foreward into the mist where a lone man once stood.

"Where did he go?" Rudolph demanded, rearing rampant, antlers slashing the air, red nose glowing through the evaporating mist.

"He must have hidden a time teleport in his suit." Donner answered, smashing the ice with his fore-hooves. Thunder echoed over the icy plain. Vixen and Comet crashed horns to disperse their anger. Blitzen shot lightening bolts from the tips of his antlers as he pawed the ground. The rest of the stags snorted.

"Whoever's responsible better own up to it now." Rudolph's body twisted, reformed. The feet and ankles grew larger. From the waist down the reindeer remained furry animals with short white tails. Form the waist up, their torsos transformed. Forelegs grew into massive arms, pecs formed, shoulders broadened, bearded faces appeared from under furry skulls. A dozen half-man, half-stag anthromorphs stood flexing, stretching. Their ears pointy and fur covered. Their antlers proudly displayed from their foreheads, bellowing affirmations. Antlers crashed together. Fists pummeled big guns, hard abs, other fists.

"Who was to guard the human?" Rudolph demanded in voice that rumbled the very ground he stood on.

"Prancer and Cupid..." Donner proclaimed, his voice like thunder.

"Prancer and Cupid? Did you lose your mind in the last rut?" Rudolph's voice rose to a high-pitched crack reeking of sarcasm. "I'll be Prancer did the damn Cha-Cha with the man and Cupid, well Cupid most likely stuck that prong of his in the wrong place again!"

"Now see here Rudolph, it was a Tango."

"Don't sass me, you cretin."

--Dave F.

4.A 200 foot wall of ice to my left, a ravine to my right; it was warp out or get trampled. I warped.

I immediately found myself in the study of the Earl of Oxford, Edward de Vere. He was working on a manuscript. In fact, the room was filled with manuscripts. I picked up a few of them. Hamlet. MacBeth. King Lear. Othello.

"Are these first editions?" I asked, thinking I might snatch a few for an ebay sale if I ever made it back to the twenty-first century.

"They're unpublished," he replied. "I wrote them this year. And by the way, who are you?"

"Evil Editor," I told him. "If you like, I'll take a look at them, I've got some publishing connections."

"Be my guest."

I returned the next evening. He asked me what I thought.

"Drivel," I answered. "Of course plenty of drivel does get published. But if you value your reputation you'll take my advice and use a pen name."



Dave F. said...

This is a BEAST of a scenario! So much is specified - the icy plain, the Deus ex Machina device, the peril of rampaging reindeer. Why reindeer?

Also, I had trouble with the guy or girl this was happening to... I kept thinking of all those around him. They're more interesting. Their reactions are going to frame the story.
The motivation of the anthropomorphic deer was fun and the swimmers who casually say - "should we let him drown?"

If Bill's were done visually - movie or video - it would be called an "AVID fart". I like it because it reeks of today and state-of-the-art videography.

EE lands in Shakespeare Land. Another editorial nightmare. Gee, he's exorcising his demons on Christmas!.

And I've been online too long today. It's a peaceful Christmas lunch with Mother before the rest of the family arrive. Yesterday was the big family meal. Fish, Fish and Fish and two types of spaghetti, a beefsteak for me, two bottles of wine, a few dozen gifts for everyone else. Novel Deviations for all. Ice cream, coffee and chestnuts.

Merry Christmas

Anonymous said...

I liked EE's. Maybe he could have worked in a shoving match between between the earl and Francis Bacon. --Bill H.

Evil Editor said...

Why reindeer?

On Easter we can try it with bunnies.

Sarah said...

"It's just a bunny."

Bunnies could be very fun. Vampire Bunnies, Zombie Bunnies, and, of course, Weredingo Bunnies.

I love the writing exercise entries. All very fun.

Happy Holidays!

Dave F. said...

Easter will be easy, he man on the ice will be Jimmy Carter (formerly President of the USA). He's already had a confrontation with a killer bunny.