One: I know this is a strange prompt to begin the new year. Hopefully it's a sign of more strangeness to come?
Two: I've added to the Dream Kingdom at long, long, long last. Apologies for the delay. It may be finished or it may not. I feel like it could maybe use one more post to wrap things up but we are heading into the new year now, so... either way.
There are worse ways to start a New Year, I'm sure :) Threatening Pakistan, maybe? I've not had a lot of time today so I'll take a careful look at the Dream Kingdom over the weekend and see if you've anything for me to do :) From what I've read though I think you've handled it all pretty well. And... I've sent you an email about the year-long prompt :)
Jungle Jim The skinny thug was stood outside Sixticton's only cinema, shivering in the cold. He was wearing a mesh wifebeater and torn shorts, a red bandanna around his head, and pimped-up sneakers with gold trim, pumped soles and laces that looked like trapped laser beams. Around him snow was mounded up on the pavement where the snowploughs had cleared Main Street, and on the other side of the snow was the pavement in front of the cinema. Don Markov, Sixticton's Chief of Police, pulled up in his cruiser and wound down the window. "Kid," he said kindly. "Put a coat on." "Nu-uh," said the thug. "This is on fleek. I'm hangin' like a homo." Don's mouth smiled while his brain tried to process what his ears had heard. "Hanging like a homie?" he asked. "Pretty sure the homos all hang out in the bars where it's warm." "Unh-huh," said the thug. "Skeeve. I'ma come heavy." Don's smile faltered. "Are you really telling me you're carrying a concealed weapon? 'Cos that's just not clever, kid." "Wuh?" "Did the cold freeze your brain, kid? What are you standing around out here for anyway?" "Got a bad case of car crotch and you the Man, daddio," said the thug. "Gotta carpe all those diems, you jizz?" "If you haven't been smoking something, kid," said Don, "you really ought to have been. Seriously, what are you standing here for." The thug motioned to the sign above the cinema. "Jungle Jim?" Don shook his head. "Jesus. Kid, learn to read. That film doesn't open for another three days."
3 comments:
One: I know this is a strange prompt to begin the new year. Hopefully it's a sign of more strangeness to come?
Two: I've added to the Dream Kingdom at long, long, long last. Apologies for the delay. It may be finished or it may not. I feel like it could maybe use one more post to wrap things up but we are heading into the new year now, so... either way.
That's all for now. Happy new year!
There are worse ways to start a New Year, I'm sure :) Threatening Pakistan, maybe? I've not had a lot of time today so I'll take a careful look at the Dream Kingdom over the weekend and see if you've anything for me to do :) From what I've read though I think you've handled it all pretty well.
And... I've sent you an email about the year-long prompt :)
Jungle Jim
The skinny thug was stood outside Sixticton's only cinema, shivering in the cold. He was wearing a mesh wifebeater and torn shorts, a red bandanna around his head, and pimped-up sneakers with gold trim, pumped soles and laces that looked like trapped laser beams. Around him snow was mounded up on the pavement where the snowploughs had cleared Main Street, and on the other side of the snow was the pavement in front of the cinema.
Don Markov, Sixticton's Chief of Police, pulled up in his cruiser and wound down the window.
"Kid," he said kindly. "Put a coat on."
"Nu-uh," said the thug. "This is on fleek. I'm hangin' like a homo."
Don's mouth smiled while his brain tried to process what his ears had heard. "Hanging like a homie?" he asked. "Pretty sure the homos all hang out in the bars where it's warm."
"Unh-huh," said the thug. "Skeeve. I'ma come heavy."
Don's smile faltered. "Are you really telling me you're carrying a concealed weapon? 'Cos that's just not clever, kid."
"Wuh?"
"Did the cold freeze your brain, kid? What are you standing around out here for anyway?"
"Got a bad case of car crotch and you the Man, daddio," said the thug. "Gotta carpe all those diems, you jizz?"
"If you haven't been smoking something, kid," said Don, "you really ought to have been. Seriously, what are you standing here for."
The thug motioned to the sign above the cinema.
"Jungle Jim?" Don shook his head. "Jesus. Kid, learn to read. That film doesn't open for another three days."
Greg - thanks for the email. I'll read it again and then send a few questions your way, but I think it's something we can work with.
I don't know why, out of all those links, I chose to click on 'car crotch'. I guess I just had to know.
Anyway. Good to hear from the skinny thug, if only to know that he is somehow still alive...
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