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Old 08-22-2015, 03:50 AM
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Default Who's game?

There’s this fun game I played a couple of times (in Dutch). Let me explain:

A first writer starts a story and stops at exactly 250 words (might be in the middle of a sentence).

A second writer takes over and continues for another 250 words, then a third one and so on, until the tenth writer finishes the story in exactly 250 words. The final product is a short story of 2500 words, as the mathematicians amidst you already understood.

So there’s only four rules to the game:
1) You write exactly 250 words.
2) You do not alter what’s been written before (not even edit your own part afterwards). Just one exception: you add your (nick-)name to the ‘by’-line if you participate.
3) You only take one turn, so in the end there’s 10 different writers who participated.
4) The 10th writer finishes the story (again in exactly 250 words).
There is not one single further restriction.

Technically, I guess you can just quote what’s been written before and continue from there.

If we hit the jackpot, the story turns out a bestseller, translated into 73 languages, turned into a movie with 4 sequels, skyrocketing merchandising,… I guess we’ll just have to split up the rights :-)

Let’s go!

__________________________________________________ _________

Who’s game?
Marc Haertjens and …

Fred had been toggling his fingertips on the table for fifteen minutes now, Eloise was painting her toenails - having finished her fingernails before Fred started toggling – and Bill was playing with his iPhone. They had been waiting for Sandy for over an hour.

Thursday night, 8:30 PM sharp was when their RISK-nights started, thus it had been since they initiated the routine two years back. It was 9:42 and Sandy was not there. The game board was all set up for four in the center of the table.
Of course you can play RISK with three players, but they didn’t even consider this possibility. It bordered the unthinkable, they had always been four.

Bill had just gone off to get some more beers from the fridge, when his mobile he had left on the table started performing the ‘Moonlight Sonata’. Fred picked it up and stared into Sandy’s smiling face. When he answered the phone, she did not sound as if she was smiling. Even Bill in the kitchen could hear her sobbing.

“I will never drive a Lexus again in my life,” Sandy was eventually able to put in between sobs. Her car had broken down while hurrying to join her friends – she was always afraid of being late. She got hold of her mechanic, who happened to be a friend too and who had reluctantly come over to have a look. There was nothing he could do: the board computer seemed to have gone crazy. He warned


“It’s the artist’s responsibility to balance mystical communication and the labor of creation.” Patti Smith, Just Kids
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Old 08-22-2015, 08:36 AM
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He warned

By Max Crash

That he had been hearing some bad news over the radio. There were some confirmed UFO sightings in the valley.

“They’re being blamed for screwing up a lot of electronic devices.”

She looked at him like he was nuts and then smiled, “You’re putting me on.”

“No, no I swear, it seems the aliens may be invading any computerized thing they can find – caused a lot of trouble.”

She smiled, “So I have aliens in my computer.” She laughed, “You’re nuts.”

He laughed.

She asked “Can you give me a ride to a friends?”

“I suppose, do you want the car towed?”

“Yes, how much is this going to cost me?”

“You buy the computer and I’ll put it in. The tow could cost you dinner and a movie I suppose?”

“You’re still with Sally, right?”

“Oh, not me; Marie that drives the tow truck, she’s got the hots for ya.”


“You could just pay the tow bill.”

“Hmm, Marie and be wined and dined…”

He laughed. “Not really, her idea of a very nice evening is a Taco, and whatever is on at the dollar movie.”

A weird crackle filled the air and a UFO stopped over their head. Beams of light moved quickly toward them; striking them. The light was drawn into their bodies.

She looked at him, “shakna pas liquy# lubro.”

“Speak Earthling, Lieutenant. I have it on good authority that this is one of the Risk-night war planners. We must infiltrate the group.”

“Yes commander.”
if you're writing over your readers head - tum etiam, ut graece scribens --- the secret of success changes;the truth of failure remains constant; if you try to please everyone you will fail.

Last edited by max crash; 08-22-2015 at 08:36 AM.. Reason: format
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Old 08-31-2015, 12:46 AM
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