nav[aria-label="Primary Navigation"] { padding: 0; & ul { list-style: none; width: 100%; display: flex; flex-direction: row; justify-content: start; align-items: start; gap: 30px; padding: 0; & li { margin: 0; } & ul li { list-style: none; } } }

Child Item

A short story. Opinions: What do ya think?

Badgers

Yeah so I'm writin' a short story and here it is. Not all of it, a short part of it and it should be enough to find out if I should bother finish it or not.

It's a god-damn true story so be careful with the comments. I'm a weak man with weak eyes, tears come easy to me and my days are long. Don't break an old man heart with a careless comment. Try to be constructive and make my long story short.

So here we go...

Ted was a....god-damn it. Hold on.

Ok, here we go....

Ted was a young man, not much older than you are now. He was fond of runnin' and dancin', the usual stuff. He liked lots of other people but he had a pretty god-damn huge secret. This secret made him sweat so much at night that his mother thought he was wetting the bed and would hit him with steak in the mornin'.
So he goes to this priest and is asking him all quiet like, something about something that has nothing to do with anything...trying to ease his way into asking about his secret.
Ya see the mind is a terrible thing if it's left alone to think of things to torment itself with. Ted was only four years old when he first saw a shooting star and god-damn it he was scared. That was his secret and he felt he was living a lie if he didn't come clean about it to someone, and soon.

(I'm gonna put some stuff in here about Ted's story)

Then Ted lay on his death bed and was shocked by how small his mother appeared. She was wearing a mohair sweater and this made Ted sneeze. The mother in the mohair tickled his god-damned nose and he died as a result.

THE END

Now I can't say I'm that happy with it but what do you think. I'm gonna enter it in a competition if I can get the word amount up to higher.

Find more posts tagged with

Quick Links

Comments

RossFixxxed

That was so terrible I think you just gave me cancer!

Promote that man.

Dr. Loon

Genius! Needs more profanity though. Something stonger than Godammit.

Kali

Thats beautiful. Touchs the soul.

Badgers

Originally posted by Kali
Thats beautiful. Touchs the soul.

I'm fightin' the tears here guys, fightin' the tears. And in this fight there's no winners.

Except maybe the tears.

Karoma

it touched me in a place that nothing ever has.. not even the priest. needs something though... like 'todger'... or 'pissflaps'..

quarryman

he was on his deathbed? so there's a few years missing then?

Rabies

I look forward to reading your column in The Star or The Sun

Karoma

only a wee bit of the story is missing....like the whole middle...

Crash

It'd be better if you replaced every second word with fuck.

Exit

You son of a bitch!! You stole my idea for a story!

Kalina

Badgers, are you on drugs?? Or are you 5 years old perhaps?

Good story if either of those are true.

Badgers

Originally posted by Exit
You son of a bitch!! You stole my idea for a story!

Yeah I steal lots of things. I'd steal a god-damn sheep if the farmer left town for a while.

Davey Devil

Originally posted by Badgers
Yeah so I'm writin' a short story and here it is. Not all of it, a short part of it and it should be enough to find out if I should bother finish it or not.

It's a god-damn true story so be careful with the comments. I'm a weak man with weak eyes, tears come easy to me and my days are long. Don't break an old man heart with a careless comment. Try to be constructive and make my long story short.

Your a woman over on personal issues

Originally posted by Badgers
Don't like sex?

I'm a woman and I could live without it.

Lots of women don't like sex. Many women prefer foreplay.
There's no guarantee that you'll ever like sex but one thing is for sure if you don't de-stress about it you'll never know. Relax and if the feelings don't come then you got to hope you find an understanding partner.

If you've any questions about all this then just ask. We're here to help.

Karoma

it's Divine II (with added imagination)

quarryman

yeah its someone who forgot to logout alright.

time to get the feds in...........

Badgers

Originally posted by Davey Devil
Your a woman over on personal issues

I'm a woman with a man's body. Love me or leave me you can't ignore my advice, sex is beautiful, just ask for more info.

Pigman II

Badgers, congratulations! Whether you've realised it or not you've just written the next David Lynch script.

Just trim it a bit and don't proceed with any of the '(I'm gonna put some stuff in here about Ted's story)' ideas of yours and it'll be a shoe-in.

ykt0di9url7bc3

Originally posted by Pigman II
Badgers, congratulations! Whether you've realised it or not you've just written the next David Lynch script.

where see written, insert plagurized

Badgers, you make me sick

quarryman

*vomits*

*bins keyboard*

Funky

Originally posted by Davey Devil
Your a woman over on personal issues

There's Something About Badger ?

smoke.me.a.kipper

ive seen better **** after it flowed and squelched out my arse, after a night out.

i really hope that doesnt put you off your writing. follow your dreams and all that.

Badgers

Originally posted by SearrarD
where see written, insert plagurized

Badgers, you make me sick

Yeah I make you sick, I make everyone sick, the truth is a stone lodged in the gullet of all those god-damned idiots who're too stupid to open their eyes. Don't push a man beyond his limit boy, or the next tale told will be one of woe with you as the star.

I've seen things. I've seen them with my eyes.

Dave

Badgers I think you're a legend. Don't mind these people, that short story was fantastic.

catsup

now dont get me wrong...im not a critic, but this has to be said. the story needs to be finessed a tad. only a tad mind you, dont ruin it by putting in too many words...

like dave said, am liking your stuff badgers. keep it coming.

Iron Petes

It certainly has a thew quality, crisp and light prose with a touch of early Theroux, it captures man's incessant struggle with his human condition. Its brave duality of luculent dialogue and the ludricous is a deluge of fresh air. I think we've witnessed the birth of a fresh vibrant new voice ..................or eh ..........maybe just the nonsensical ramblings of a loon. I prefer the former!

dod

I have to say the little excerpt that we were treated to made me smile. I'd certainly read more of it.

Put pen to paper Badger to complete this story, don't bother with replying to directionless criticism on this thread.

Go for it and come back to us with a draft of the finished article.

Doctor J

Elvis flinched, his face twisted in terror. His upper lip curled in trademark fashion but this time in raw disgust rather than in a cold act of calculated seduction.

"Colonel," he croaked, "Colonel, no!"

The Colonel paraded in front of Elvis in a curious dance. He was entirely naked but for his stetson hat and snakeskin boots. The Colonel was greased thoroughly, from his neck to his knees, over and into every plentiful roll of flab. Tears of oil rolled lazily over the tight lips of his boots, which stretched taut around his chubby legs.

"Whipped cream" he sang tunelessly, "Put it all over my bodayy" and scooped a two-fingered dollop of cream from the bowl he cradled to his chest and smeared it messily in circles onto a bloated nipple "Whipped cre - yee - yee - yeam."

He continued to dance back and forth in front of Elvis, in a sort of obese shuffle, perforated by an occasional, disturbing lashing out of his hips. Each thrust made the King wince. Elvis had considered evacuating the toilet but, he realised, this was impossible due to the tight jumpsuit he had struggled to undo and which snugly enveloped each ankle, tying it to the other and leaving him practically immobile. Elvis was aware there was little
he could do but sit here until fortune presented him with an opportunity to end this madness.

Yet still the Colonel danced and sang in semi-circles around the Graceland toilet. His tight string vest was
saturated in oil and his flabby torso glistened in the Memphis sunlight which shone brightly in throught the small window. Elvis could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead and roll down his worried face until they dripped from his double chin onto his exposed, tanned thighs. He was sickened to see similar tracks of sweat, mixed with oil, meandering down the Colonel, most of which found their way to the gathering pools of liquid over the lips of the Colonels boots.

"I made you, you owe me" said the Colonel, stopping suddenly. There was a coldness in his voice. He stared directly into the King's eyes. "YOU" he screamed and thrust his hips to emphasise his point, "OWE" thrust again, "ME!"

Each syllable and corresponding flick of his hips had caused the Colonel's penis to flap madly. Elvis had tried not to look at it, but now couldn't take his eyes off it.

"YOU - OWE - ME!" yelled the Colonel again, again thrusting his hips with every word. This time, however, both men's gaze was taken by a small projectile which flew upwards from the Colonels flapping cock as he finished his sentence. They gazed, with all the intensity of Russian villagers looking to the sky at Gagarin's epic first voyage into space, as it looped it's way high towards the ceiling on a long arc towards the prostrate King. As Elvis' eyes followed the missile, his attention was suddenly taken as his gaze met that of a small squirrel, sitting on a tree outside the window. The squirrel was looking directly at Elvis, and Elvis could not help but to return the look.

He was brought back with a crash, though, as the force of gravity brought the projectile careering down onto his lower lip. It splashed into his mouth and onto his chin.

"Oh my God," said Elvis, "it's salty!"

Elvis whole body seemed to convulse at once. An obscenly large turd, almost seven inches in length and two in diameter, shot from Elvis' ass as if fired from a cannon. He spat furiously to try and rid his mouth of the intruding liquid. The Colonel, seeing the consequences of his birthday jape, backed slowly out the door.

As Elvis tried to regain his composure he, again, noticed the incessant gaze of the squirrel. The squirrel was holding a nut in it's mouth. The squirrel seemed to wink at the King and bit down hard on the nut. Immediately, Elvis felt a sharp bolt of pain shoot out from his chest and engulf his whole body. Then the darkness closed quickly in...

Iron Petes

Excellent!! Truely talented! but did Elvis not die from an apoplexy?

Bard

Utter crap.

This story was much better

blondie83

Originally posted by dod
I have to say the little excerpt that we were treated to made me smile. I'd certainly read more of it.

Put pen to paper Badger to complete this story, don't bother with replying to directionless criticism on this thread.

Go for it and come back to us with a draft of the finished article.

Seconded - great story, keep it coming badger!:ninja: