I walked towards the grave, fists clenched, blood dripping from the hand that held the “flowers”. The man on my left held his rifle steady, to my right the same. I could feel the anger course through my vain’s. I saw him behind the headstone, that monster, who took them from me. I saw him smile with a cruel glee, and I smiled back. As we reached the grave stone I prepared to salute, I felt the timer tick. At the last moment I yelled lange lebe anarchie! Ese Lebe die volksrevolution! Then the bomb went off, and I took Adolf Hitler with me to hell.
Nov 8 2013 02:05
Nov 8 2013 16:51
That bad?
Nov 8 2013 17:02
Not at all! I'm hedging for a partnership. Is there a paragraph 2?
Nov 8 2013 17:05
I tried to make an attempt at describing my time in economics class, which I am sitting through as I am typing right now. It sucked, so i just deleted it.
But yeah, this sucks. Everybody, students and professors, sound like future state administrators. They have good intentions. But its annoying because they speak all the time in the language of capitalist economics. They think they understand these problems, but they dont.
I just wanna say out loud, "its capitalism stupid!"
Nov 8 2013 17:08
Plasmatelly,
That was funny btw. "Alarm clock screamed like a goat fleeing a naked man in wellies." I wish i could come up with something along those lines.
Nov 8 2013 17:16
"We get into all of these problems because we are no longer childlike anymore." - professor
Nov 9 2013 13:35
So where's the 2nd paragraphs to your stories? iexist? plasmatelly?
Nov 9 2013 15:10
I'm waiting for iexist!
Dec 4 2013 19:08
I dragged my tired body out of bed, I looked over to my brothers bed he was still asleep so I couldn't turn on the light. I slouched over to the drawer and pulled out some random clothes and headed over to the bathroom. I turned the water on and waited for it to run warm then I climbed in and started washing. At the end I hit the freezing cold option to wake myself up. I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. In the kitchen I pounded back a coffee and got myself some cold oat meal. When the bus honked I headed off to school. Halfway through the bus ride I remembered, it was the big day!
Dec 4 2013 20:26
You forgot to dry yourself! Always use a towel.
Dec 5 2013 01:08
That was the character not me.
Dec 5 2013 01:22
bad post
Dec 15 2013 14:23
bump bump bump
Dec 15 2013 15:43
The Big Day, the Agency and the Job
He drove steadily behind the school bus, following its path patiently until it pulled up beside its destination. Block by block, he kept a safe distance but with his eyes on his target at all times.
Was he nervous? Of course not. He did this many times before; it was his professional day job and it put more than enough on his table to keep him and his family satisfied. Did he ever ask questions? No. He never thought about asking questions. It was his job. And he knew he had no other choice.
The bus pulled up in front a school, obviously. 'The High School' it was called. And it had a long clear entrance to allow for enough space to identify and lock onto to his target. As the bus unloaded its students, the man shifted to the passenger seat and lowered the window. He was parked a block away, but it wasn't far enough to keep him out of sight.
He pulled out his rifle, and scoped in on the students. He knew who his victim was. Excuse me, the agency's victim. It wasn't his fault and responsibility that the boy turned up against the law. He was just doing his job. When the man identified the boy several feet away from the entrance door, he noticed something peculiar about him.
"Hmm, that damn boy's clothes is wet. In fact, he looks wet from head to toe. Doesn't that punk know how to dry himself?"
Well, it concerned him no more. He took a shot. Missed. But wait, it hit the entrance door and ricocheted back towards the boy, piercing him in the forehead. The bullet would punch a hole in the back of the boy's head, spewing blood on the students behind him. They screamed in horror.
The man burst out laughing at the situation unfolding, finding it unbelievable.
"I guess I can make myself laugh sometimes."
The boy lay dead on the ground, before he had his Big Day. It was another victory for the agency. And the man drove away. How long this can continue is uncertain. But what we do know is that its happening. What will happen next you ask? Find out by staying tuned to the thread, 'first paragraph of a book I'm writing'.
THE END. (of this chapter)
Dec 15 2013 16:12
Quote:
"Hmm, that damn boy's clothes is wet. In fact, he looks wet from head to toe. Doesn't that punk know how to dry himself?"
Hehehe!!!
Dec 15 2013 20:33
(iexist: sorry for the cop out, but I'd rather not have Julie ((the POV character)) die, and lets keep the action movie stuff to a minimum lets make a rule everyone gets 3 cop outs, this counts as my first, and you can't cop out a cop out)
The eraser woke me from my dream, it hit me square in the jaw and bounced onto my lap. I looked around stupidly until I saw Jason laughing his ass off. Of course it was him, only the schools star pitcher could throw like that.
"Hey, that's not funny" I yelled, but even as I said it I was smiling.
"Well who else was gonna wake you up sleeping beauty, we're almost there and you'd better get ready. We've put weeks into planning this, you'd better not screw up comrade." he said with a grin
"I can't wait to see the looks on the admins faces when it starts." Piped up Jesse. "It'll be an awesome way to announce our existence."
3 HOURS LATER:
The air was cold and crisp, everything was quiet as the announcer said
"Before kick off, Jullie MacDonald will sing the national anthem."
I stepped forward and opened my mouth I could see the flag raisers bringing the red and black to the pole, as it started rising I began:
"Arise ye workers from your slumbers
Arise ye prisoners of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of cant.
Away with all your superstitions
Servile masses arise, arise
We’ll change henceforth the old tradition
And spurn the dust to win the prize."
Pandemonium broke out, the administrators looked helpless, I quickly finished the song and said:
"This was a presentation by the High School Anarchist Alliance, we hope you enjoyed it and if you'd like to learn more please contact on our facebook group."
(I think it was worth it)
Dec 15 2013 21:58
May I suggest you call it the Future Workers of the World (F.W.W.), rather than High School Anarchist Alliance? Because students at all levels of the education system are workers-in-training, and regardless if they had education, they would still need to seek work.
I can imagine it becoming a big student union, with a chapter in many schools of close proximity. It could make for an interesting story.
Dec 15 2013 22:32
I need someone else to write the next part. Plasmatelly, Agent?
Dec 15 2013 23:08
Maybe the next part could be set in the offices of the school administration/head teacher or whatever, with them figuring out how to respond. This could set up a way to move the story forward, giving the reader a glimpse of what our heroes(?) are up against and when they are walking into trouble as well as giving some character to enemy - what their motivations are, their strengths and weaknesses etc. The bad guys are often the most interesting and, of course, are rarely completely bad.
Dec 15 2013 23:19
why don't u write it, webby?
Dec 15 2013 23:45
Communist poetry
The workers were
sweating
the workers were
bubbling
the workers were
fighting
against all
that they
had to
do
Up with the hammers!
Up with the banners!
Up with our mustaches and
skirt-tails too!
Death to the warmongers
Death to the wastemakers
Death to the capitalist class
who have robbed us
blue!
We are the workers,
we are the future,
we are the ones that clean up
the poo!
Dec 15 2013 23:58
iexist wrote:
I need someone else to write the next part. Plasmatelly, Agent?
Oh, I planned on writing the next part. But unfortunately I am busy studying for final exams, so if anybody wanna continue from where iexist left off, then do so. And I will follow from there.
iexist,
You might not like what my follow up is going to do, but I'm going to do it anyways. (Preview: somehow I will integrate my "action"-oriented story with iexist's cop out. And its going involve much more than school administrators and teachers) 
Dec 16 2013 00:36
Could u have it be something like the local fascists are in with the cops. I don't want like random agencies sniping high school students, its to random.
Dec 16 2013 05:36
Quote:
why don't u write it, webby?
Coz I suck at writing.
Dec 16 2013 12:51
Try, no one'll judge u
Dec 16 2013 18:55
Ah well, I'm also very lazy. Plus, I wouldn't want to spend much time on something I'm pretty sure would be rubbish.
One more thing - if I did give it a go it would definitely be (an attempt at) comedy. I guess that's not what you're trying to do?
Dec 16 2013 19:29
But we are doing comedy. At least I was (perhaps its bad).
Dec 16 2013 20:11
Webby wrote:
Quote:
"Hmm, that damn boy's clothes is wet. In fact, he looks wet from head to toe. Doesn't that punk know how to dry himself?"Hehehe!!!
As you can see, I thought that bit was funny but I didn't get the impression that the whole thing was supposed to be. If so, whoops, transatlantic misunderstand perhaps?
Nanner would have been good for this - where the fuck is he?
Dec 21 2013 17:06
Bump bump
Dec 21 2013 17:09
I've seen the word 'bump' on the site quite a few times - what does it mean?
Can comment on articles and discussions
The alarm clock screamed like a goat fleeing a naked man in wellies as the horror of my mundane existence jarred against the nightly dream of my decapitated head sailing ever upwards alongside the detached head of the leader of Third Reich. Oh gawd, another day in that bleeding shit hole. Wish it were Friday. Oh it is..
Any good? Any agents out there?