[Ash]: 102.Contests.Famous First Lines.October 2008

Electrocution is never pleasant, and this time was no exception. As Maya’s foot draped along and snagged the cord she tripped in along with the hair dryer. He looked up at me, stopped and returned to the pages of my story for the contest. “It sucks. Where’s the fun and excitement, you have mental disorders, use them, Kid-o.”

My friend threw the story back at me. “I have to use the first line, I told you it was a contest.” Sighing I took the story and began reading through. “So, where can we start improvements?” I licked my thumb and was about to flip through the pages and he stopped my hand.

“Monkeys… with shock sticks. Think of it, it’s an unpleasant end, you’re racing through the jungle and the monkeys with shock sticks get you.” He said his fingers curling up like Mister Burns. He smiled and looked over hopefully. I tossed the story back. “Come on, it’s a good plot.”

“No, it isn’t, now… just go through with your grammar skills.” I argued. He stopped and grabbed the page back and began working on it slowly. “Maybe I should have done a guy on death row.”

“There’s no fun in that.” He said and I reached across the table and poked him angrily. The door opened and in walked another person who cam in and sat down. “What’s up?”

“Not much, got bored. What are you reading?”

“Not reading, correcting. Like ‘this’ and ‘corrective’ and every other word.” He said making a face. I pointed to him and turned to the other, “smack him.”

“Can do.” He did smack him and he laughed after a long ‘pity me’ “Ow-e.” “So anyway, ran over this squirrel today, it’s scampering across the road and I see it and the guy next to me, his truck broke down so I’m lifting it, anyway he totally freaks out and starts screaming because my big cab won’t stop in time. I just start laughing. It was sweet.”

“Nice…” I said liking squirrels. “Anyway, how’s the story coming?”

“Boring… Annoying… Any other words that will aggravate you.” He said putting the page and pen down. “It’s done. Well written but slow and expected.”

“I know, it’s how I write though, you’ll get over it.”

It went quite for a while until the squirrel killer pulled out a deck of cards, “Magic?” We each reached into our pockets and place our desks up on the table. “I like how we’re all over prepared.”

“Yeah, we know.”