Hello Internets – Kris here,
Tina and I had a bit of a longer chat this week discussing the upcoming month of writing our butts off as well as a quick 20 minute project we did for funsies. Our project was to write for 10 minutes to get a story setup, and then trade and finish the others’ for the next 10 minutes. It’s good practice, and a bit silly – highly recommended if you have anyone nearby who’s fun and likes to use their imaginations!
I’ll go ahead and post the stories below the blogcast in their mostly un-edited forms (to better illustrate differences in writing styles) for your perusal; leave us a comment if you have any topics or story starters of your own and we’ll be happy to take ’em for a ride! Fair warning, the stories are super short on account of being written in 20 minutes by two people, and also have a bit of a potty mouth in case any impressionable eyes are wandering nearby.
“God damn it!”
Jessica was so pissed. These damn curbs had been built purposefully just to piss her off and she was THIS close to stomping one into dust.
The problem of course was the interviewer at the other end of this email chain wasn’t going to wait for her to rent out a bulldozer or something. She drafted up a quick reply and bolted across the street to catch the light.
Stupid tequila, stupid brad. Stupid alarm! The best shot of her entire career was flushing itself down the proverbial toilet. Jessica cursed and muttered to herself as she shouldered aside both young and old, man and woman. She remembered a shortcut behind the shoe warehouse and ducked under the gate, hoping to God it wasn’t locked at the other end.
It was locked.
“Oh hell! I wish it was last night again!” Caution to the wind, she flew like a bat out of hell, flailing out of control as she slipped on yet another storm drain.
She hurled her purse across the parking lot into the shadowed alcove of the-
Her heart skipped a beat. It was mid day seconds ago, why was it night?
“What in the hell?”
“You really shouldn’t throw your things into dark holes.” Brad chirped from behind her.
“Jessica spun on her heel to see Brad wearing the same attire as last night. The street behind him also showed a flurry of activity only known to the city during what Brad called “party time.”
“I-I was just…” She trailed off looking down to see not the smart dress suit she had fallen asleep on and wrinkled to hell, but her cute gold shimmer dress and heels.
“Girl, get your bag!” Brad looked around. “Some creep is gonna try and mug us if you don’t hurry and I love this watch!”
“Jessica turned and went to pick up her purse when she noticed her good luck charm had fallen out. She retrieved the shiny silver token that had been given to her by her father, shortly before he was killed by a freak lightning strike that night. He had told her it was a faeries token, stolen or given by the fae to her way back Grandmother in Ireland. It made it across the ocean and survived the Titanic with her grandmother.
For bonus points, see if you can tell where the story swapped hands! Tina and I are horrendously opposite as storytellers so it should be pretty easy.
The vampires didn’t just appear overnight. It wasn’t like a newly formed species that came from space. Some of them had been here for much longer than any living being had a right to exist.
Then again, when you live that long are you really alive?
Some of the myths that were quickly dashed when they came out was that you had to die to become one. Really, it didn’t take a death to change you. Just a pact and some sort of magic ritual. Oh, and magic was real.
My name is Sonny and I’m a plumber. Yeah, yeah. Like Mario. However, in this new world of vampires, my job is to plumb people. Rather crude, but I set up some vamps with willing humans and discard or remove defective or broken ones. I am human, however, my payment is in extended life without the thirst for blood. I’m not faster or strong, just 30 for a couple hundred years longer than others. Some of the nerds started calling humans like me Elves, based on old fantasy lore.
Well if they could hear what I hear, they would clamor to become a plumber too.
A couple of the big ones started talking the other day about some trick they had in mind. Sounded like a big operation, whole cities turned to feeding ground. Humans penned like cattle. You know the drill. One of ’em was talkin’ about how the plumbers were gonna be kept in separate apartments from now on for safety; you know, some of the young ones get overzealous when they start sucking that stuff.
Well I might be selfish, rich, and young, but I ain’t stupid. I know that fella with big ears heard me in that hallway so I set out to record this message in case they come for me. It’ll ship out to every country in the world if I don’t reset the calendar each week.
Why a week? Well listen, sometimes when I’m out gettin’ the stink eye from those normies, I just wanna snap, you know. It’s been over a hundred years since I got laid over here! Still, I can’t wish everyone dead. Whoever said money can’t buy happiness was never rich, even if the broads are clamoring for magic nowadays.
So you’re probably wondering why this letter is in your fine hands. Well my friend, I am dead or dying I can only assume, since the timer seems to have expired. You can bet your Betty-who’s that they’ve read the message by now and probably the addressees as well. I’d estimate you probably have about two hours from the sent stamp to copy this and get the hell away from there.
Remember: New York, Boston, London and Berlin may be first, but the whole damn world is about to get drained if you ain’t quick.