Escape from Elba
Exiles of the New York Times
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Author Topic: Creative Writing  (Read 27059 times)
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1170 on: June 20, 2007, 04:38:09 PM »

Bruiser looked at the can.  "Dunno," he said, "it appears to be some kind of meat of undetermined origin."
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Eva
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« Reply #1171 on: June 20, 2007, 04:41:11 PM »

The shadowy voice whispered, "It's from a meathead"...
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desdemona222b
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« Reply #1172 on: June 20, 2007, 04:42:09 PM »

A lumpen figure emerged from the darkness.

"Hand that over.  You know Spam isn't allowed in prison anymore than Punkzbane is..."
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kitinkaboodle
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« Reply #1173 on: June 21, 2007, 08:28:46 AM »

After hearing that her Can-Can wasn't quite up to standards (something about needing a wax, whatever that had to do with it, but maybe she had misunderstood).  Chlo pondered her options.  What could she offer?  Langue de nutria au gratin perhaps?  Something...
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« Reply #1174 on: June 21, 2007, 09:53:20 AM »

...marinated in wine, then sauteed in wine, then served with a...it was coming to her....yes! a nice pinot noir....but wait, she thought to herself (as there was no other brain to think to), why would a nice white wine call itself "noir?"  Shouldn't it be a black wine?  Were there any good black wines?


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barton
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« Reply #1175 on: June 21, 2007, 09:56:28 AM »

"Had me a black wine once," said Bulwer-Lytton the overly-florid nutria, who had been sitting quiescent in the corner.  "Chateau de Maison I think it was....man, it was a motherf--"

"Shut your mouth!" cried Chloe.  "It's a complicated menu, and no one understands it but....
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1176 on: June 21, 2007, 10:00:42 AM »

his woman."
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barton
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« Reply #1177 on: June 21, 2007, 10:06:01 AM »

"Whose woman," asked Bulwer-Lytton.  "I don't know to whom "his" refers."
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1178 on: June 21, 2007, 10:27:30 AM »

"Now is clearly not the time to insist upon logic and consistency in the narrative," Boswell barked from his pillow in the corner.  Then, he rolled to his side and began, gently but insistently, to lick his balls.
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« Reply #1179 on: June 21, 2007, 10:36:47 AM »

The very same balls that had been marinating in a
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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1180 on: June 21, 2007, 10:40:33 AM »

stew of nutria, rice, bonito broth, shark fins, cod sperm and tomatoes."

"Tomatoes?"  the dubbed Japanese announcer remarked with incredulity in his voice.
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« Reply #1181 on: June 21, 2007, 10:43:52 AM »

An incredulity that seemed suspect, given the absolute composure with which he had announced, not long before, the emergence from the Sea of Japan a gigantic dripping....

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kitinkaboodle
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« Reply #1182 on: June 21, 2007, 10:51:38 AM »

squid?  No wait, it wasn't that!  It was a giant, white





 asparagus...asparagi?




What is one giant stalk of white dripping limpness called anyway?



Chloe pondered...


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whiskeypriest
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« Reply #1183 on: June 21, 2007, 11:04:41 AM »

"What is one giant stalk of white dripping limpness called anyway?" she asked aloud. 

"Ron Jeremy on a bad day," came Boswell's response.
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« Reply #1184 on: June 21, 2007, 11:17:08 AM »

Chloe wasn't sure who, or what a Ron Jeremy was...but noted that it wasn't a Schilling...
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