Goofing Around-7

I can’t help myself.  You’re writers–you know what I mean.  I have to play around with the words.  They lure me. 

So while I’m working with students in class on the Fearsome Four sentences of Assignment 7, I have to share the love.  

Take sentence #2–The leaves are red.  Whoever gets here first, please improve on it and post your version.  From there on we can build on whoever’s sentence comes before you.  Surely we can construct something good (a story?  a poem?  the world’s longest sentence?  more surprises than any of us could have imagined?) together.  Who’s first?

68 responses to “Goofing Around-7

  1. The leaves are red with dripping blood.

  2. C’mon guys, let’s entertain Ann. I think she’s using this site as respite from the Fearsome Four sentences.

  3. The pathway is blocked by the fallen tree.

  4. The first hikers to come across the massive fallen oak tree stand aghast at the sight of dark red blood pulsing from the enormous crack in its trunk.

  5. A single crow perches atop a tree branch behind the hikers, its course caw piercing through the silence.

  6. “The legend is true,” whispered the black-haired hiker.

  7. “What legend?” Callie whispered back.

  8. “You know,” said Toby, brushing his long dark hair from his eyes, ” the one gramma always taled about.”

  9. “You’ve heard it, Callie. The story Gramma and Grampa told of when times are bad, some trees try to carry the burden of sadness in their branches to protect us humans. If the load becomes too heavy, the tree falls, breaking its trunk and the misery bleeds out,” said Toby.

  10. “But the oak will always sing, ‘He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother’,” Callie whispered.

  11. Suddenly, an ominous shadow loomed
    across the hikers. Gramma’s words echoed through the limbs of the fallen tree: “The weak must perish.”

  12. “If dying is part of your legend, Toby, I’m not listening,” Callie whispered. The wind picked up just as the crow flew to another branch above them. A coal black feather landed on Callie’s jacket sleeve. She started to reach for it but Toby grabbed her arm. “Don’t touch it!”

  13. Toby’s held Callie’s arm tightly. “Don’t move. Now listen to me. The crow has a part in the legend. The sound of the falling tree drew the crow here. It purposely shed one of its feathers and if it had come to rest on an animal or human, that living creature would be doomed to forever keep vigil beside this tree’s bleeding corpse. The feather didn’t actually touch you, only your jacket so you aren’t under the spell,” explained Toby. “Just let it fall on the ground and let’s get out of here.”

  14. A branch of the fallen tree reaches out and captures Toby around his ankle.

  15. “Yikes!!!” screamed Toby. “Don’t let it eat me. Man, this is too much Blair Witch foe me.”

  16. The creeping bough entwined itself around Toby’s knee while distant winds thundered and rainbows of light flashed across the heavens.

    Laughing and dancing the crow was quite pleased with the celestial orchestrations.

    Yes, indeed, the weak must perish.

  17. Callie kicked at the tree branch as hard as she could again and again. It weakened and hemorrhaged as Toby pulled himself free. They stood up and began gagging at the sight of their blood splattered hiking boots and jeans.

  18. “Let’s get out of here!” shouted Callie. “WE are not weak, Toby, and we are not perishing! Not today!”

  19. After their gagging ceased, Toby and Callie scrambled away from the nightmare they’d just lived through. As they hurried through the woods, they came upon an unfamiliar, and yet remotely familiar yellow brick road. Their eyes followed the curve in the road and their mouths dropped open. Dorothy, the scare crow, the cowardly lion and the tin man were skipping arm in arm in their direction.

  20. Toby,” said Callie. “I’m never eating mushrooms again!”

  21. Great. Now, if we could just have a few people step forward and volunteer to act this out, please… I’ll be the cowardly lion… Walk, I think you’d be great as the crow. Gully, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to play Grandma (in flashbacks)…. Anyone else? Please?

  22. Well, we held it together for 22 posts, even though Walk always sets up a challenge. Any way we can erase the whole thing before Ann sees what we’ve done? Yeah, okay. I’m good for gramma.

  23. And the crow replied, “Evermore”. Sounds like fun maureen.

  24. What the heck, I’ll get my sparkly red shoes out and play Dorothy.

    Dorothy (stopping in her tracks upon seeing Toby and Callie): Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!

  25. Dorothy (trembling and confused at the hideous sight of Toby and Callie, approaching her and traveling companions): Quick! Quick! Where’s the script? I’m sure this gruesome scene isn’t in it.

  26. Hey, wait a minute. I just caught on to me playing gramma in “flashbacks.” What the heck? I never did that stuff!!!

  27. The crow landed on Dorothy’s shoulder: “That guy with all the hay in his trousers scares me.”

  28. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. You scared me half to death flying down without being invited and then perching on me like that. Besides that, you’re a cowardly crow and a sissy if the hay in scarecrow’s pants frightens you.”

    (She whispers to the crow) “Let me tell you! That’s not all he’s got in his trousers.”

  29. “SQUAWK” cried the crow, “TOO much info…TOOOOOO much info. I am scared of him, after all he’s a scarecrow.” The crow flies to Gramma’s house to get away from the frightening four. Where’d that lion get that goofy grin anyway?

  30. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Up, up and away he went. I think I scared him more than you did, Mr. Scarecrow. I didn’t mean to, but I offended him and the next thing I knew he was squawking and saying TOO much info…TOOOOO much info. Oh well, he was quite wimpy anyway. Speaking of wimps, where’s our cowardly lion?”

  31. Oh, is, um, someone l-l-looking for m-m-me?
    I, um, really d-d-don’t have anything to say right now! Do you, Mr. Scarecrow? Mr. Scarecrow? Where could he have run off to?
    Why, Dorothy, I believe Mr. Scarecrow may have been offended just now…. You know how sensitive he is about his overstuffed trousers.

  32. “Psst. Psst. Toby?” whispered Callie. “Who are these weird characters? If we have to hang around wih them to escape that bloody snatching tree, I want some more of those mushrooms after all.”

  33. “Here Callie, take this atomic mushroom, and then click your heels together and say, ‘There’s no where like home, there’s no where like home.’ Just maybe Gramma will come to save us.”

  34. “Excuse me, but I overheard you two talking. I’ll gladly offer you my ruby slippers to wear while you click your heels. They’re magic and it appears the two of you could use all the help you can get,” Dorothy offered.

  35. The crow lands on Dorothy’s shoulder once again, “Evermore, Callie, Evermore. The scarecrow stuffs his pants, Dorothy stuffs her bra. SQUAWK.”

  36. “Well look who’s back, squawking in my ear again. I’m going to overlook your rude accusation regarding my undergarments due to the urgency of this situation,” Dorothy says with restraint in her voice.

    “Tell me this, ye olde crow. Is Gramma in any shape to come and transport these grandkids of hers to a more agreeable place or do they need to rely on my magic ruby slippers? Speak up and no more squawking, please!”

  37. “Evermore, dear Dot, Evermore. Gramma’s at the shores of Evermore.” The crow’s eyes turns cobalt blue and flies back into the forest.

  38. Dorothy listens as the old crow describes his time at Gramma’s house. She shakes her head and replies, “you really played on Gramma’s sympathy with your over wrought tale of fearful encounters in the woods, didn’t you! Sitting on the arm of her rocking chair, you filled her head your delusions of a scarey scarecrow and the frightening four. Shame on you!”

    Crow quietly listens and stares emotionlessly at nothing in particular. Dorothy continues, “after feeding you a steaming bowl of hot chicken soup and tucking you in bed for a nap, she finally settled back in her rocking chair again. I hope you’re proud of yourself for taking advantage of a sweet old lady’s kind heart and compassion.”

    Dorothy concludes by saying, “I suspect she’s had enough trauma for a while. We’re going to have to use magic. Shine up my ruby slippers with a couple of your tail feathers instead of sitting there doing nothing. We’ve all got to get busy.”

    Dorothy turns to the characters gathered on the ground beside the yellow brick road. “Lion, scarecrow, tin man–front and center. Toby and Callie, get ready for lift off.”

    [Hey fellow writers. Stop me if I’ve gone too far for too long. Sometimes I don’t know when to quit, as you well know. Please, please stop me or rejoin this madness called writing]. madnesscraziness.]

  39. [I’m sorry Walk. Your story lines came in and I didn’t see them before I submitted mine. Do you mind if we pretend you didn’t fly back into the forest? Please, pretty please? Or maybe we should stop this madness and beg Ann for a new assignment.]

  40. “Psst, John,” said Martha. “Are they gone?”

    John removed his bleeding oak tree costume and stood up, rubbing his ankle. “That girl kicked me!”

    “Stop whining,” Martha said, checking her look in the mirror. “Am I not beautiful. Will you not love me forever?”

    “Where did Dorothy get to, I wonder.” John peered past Martha. Were those flying monkeys darking down out of the sky or was he still dazed from Callie’s beating? “I thought the Oz story was supposed to be about hating to grow up. Looks to me like it’s about grannie and her mushrooms. ”

    “Party pooper.” Martha sniffed and looked around for the Scarecrow. He did have a rather nice build, after all. She examined her red shoes, turning her feet this way and that. Just like autumn leaves, she thought.

    “Can anyone count to eight,” whispered the crow in John’s ear. “Or is that just too much goofing around?”

  41. eight (multiple ellipses)
    Who do we appreciate?

    nine (multiple ellipses)
    Writing prompts so fine! (uh-oh, a no-no)

    ten (multiple ellipses)
    Marrying paper and pen.

    eleven (multiple ellipses)
    Died and gone to Heaven.

    twelve (multiple ellipses)
    Deep inside we delve.

    Leave it to a writing instructor to edit the mess we made and wrap it all up.

  42. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

    Thanks, Ann. Speaking of bail outs!!!!

  43. Ann: Didn’t you learn your lesson when you left us on our own during BWW-Assignment 8? (I think that was when we all went haywire) Wasn’t that when Orlando pulled up in his fancy red convertable and smoking his big cigar? And we begged him to take us all to the Secret Beach? But all he wanted to do was cruise around town looking good. So Ann, you should know better than to leave us unattended. We’re like sheep without the shepherd. A swarm of bees without the queen bee. Coffee without donuts. Goofing Around 6 would be a great place for you to write what you’ve learned about leaving us to our own devices.

  44. The crow replies to Martha, “And as my cousin the Raven says, ‘Nevermore’ to this giddy goofy six.”

  45. On February 13th, this all started. I fear that I screwed things up with my aggressive manner of participation.

    I’ll try to behave in Goofing Around 8. Bring it on, Ann.

  46. You didn’t screw anything up, Shaddy. That’s my job, so keep your hands off! You introduced new and exciting elements, and if I’d ever read or seen The Wizard of Oz, I probably could have joined that trek. And, please, don’t ever promise to behave. We know it isn’t possible. You just keep being the Shaddy we love! Hugs, Gully

  47. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, Gully. I’m relieved to hear your thoughts. And I have to agree with you that behaving is impossible for me, even when I’m wearing the magical ruby slippers.

    You’re more than dear.

  48. Behave??? I thought the whole point of goofing around was misbehavin’. I say let’s continue on with the “Quest Of The Ruby Slippers” and see what the forest with it’s red leaves takes us. How many wrenches can we throw at each other? It’ll be Fun Fun Fun til Ann takes the goofing away.

  49. How the heck can a guy who lives in Oklahoma be a Beach Boy????

  50. It’s all beach. Just no ocean.

  51. Ah, Maureen, with the wise and discerning eye of a writer! LOL.

  52. Shaddy: Here is the definition of “Behave”. I looked it up in the dictionary.
    To conduct oneself in a particular and proper way.
    Are you sure this is what you want to do? I certainly hope not.

  53. To goof, or not to goof: that is the question:
    Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to endure
    The slings and arrows of outrageous writings,
    Or to take arms against a sea of verbs,
    And by opposing end them? adjectives: adjectives only;
    More; and by a muse to say we write
    The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
    That words is heir to, ’tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish’d. To write, to write;
    To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
    For in that sleep of what dreams may come
    When we have shuffled to goofiness,
    Must give us pause: there’s the respect
    That makes calamity of so long sentences;

    With respects to Sir Shakespeare, sorry Bill.

  54. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. There’s quite a crowd loitering here on the yellow brick road. Let’s see, we’ve got Toby, Callie, Gramma and the crow; Dorothy, the scarecrow, the tin man, and the cowardly lion; and last but not least, John and Martha.

    Alrighty, then. One of us goofballs needs to step up and attempt to get this hodgepodge of characters rocking and rolling along the yellow brick road again. Gully, Walk, Maureen, KathyH, Ann?

    As I’ve been kindly reminded by many of you, any manner of nonsense is permitted and, in fact, is most welcome and highly respected.

    Let the games begin, again!

  55. May I repeat, let the games begin. Hello! Is anybody home?

  56. Scattered in the grass, some in costume and some not, the motley crew is relaxing and savoring an itsy bitsy portion of the chocolate bar Martha found in her purse and passed around. Except for one member of the troup.

    “John, what are you doing?”, Martha asks with her mouth hanging open and a scowl on her face. Everyone one else bursts into laughter when they realize what’s happening. John is walking back and forth on the yellow brick road, wearing the sparkly ruby red slippers. He’s totally caught up in the sharp staccato sound each of his footsteps creates. He’s oblivious to the audience he’s drawn.

  57. The crow flew through the forest of Evermore and finds Gramma on the shores of Lake Wallycumbyeya. He lights on her fishing pole, “The legend is true, the forest is bleeding. No ruby slippers will save them.”

  58. Excuse me fellow writers, but I have to speak to one of our members, privately.

    This submission is specifically for Mr. Walk,

    Listen to me and listen closely!!

    Why do you constantly refuse to go along with the story we’re supposed to be creating here? Huh? Cooperation is imperative. If you don’t know what that means, look it up. If I could get my hands on you, I’d…I’d…make YOU bleed heavily and then I’d completely bury you in nasty old forest debris and then I’d return to my desk to continue writing a proper story.

  59. What do you expect from a crow?

  60. [Oh, I get it. You want the story to revolve around you, the crow. I should have known!]

    The motley crew realized their errors and traveled all the way to Lake Wallycumbyeya because that’s where their beloved friend, the crow was.

    They moved with great haste and were soon at the water’s edge. In unison, the weary troop declared to Gramma, “harken only to the words of this fine-feathered gentleman. We have only recently realized that he is the singular wise one among us; the rest of us are all morons. He has spoken the ultimate truth from a perch on your fishing pole; our words are useless. Join us, Gramma. Let us all bow down and follow his lead.”

  61. Sorry, can’t handle the crow. Now, if it wre a raven seeking a following, that would be another matter,” said Gramma.

  62. “Alas at last I take my leave,
    A crow a raven, neither to believe.
    You fate within your muse,
    Is left for you to conceive.”
    With a rush of wing the crow departs.

    (Oh, by the way Shaddy, I’m sorry for the change of story but you posted as I was writing the little forest ditty. I didn’t see your John and Martha story line.)

  63. Oh dear, oh dear,
    Or
    Oh door, oh door,
    Or
    Oh odor, oh odor,
    Or
    Oh dear
    there’s an odor
    in here.

    Bottom line:
    Our story is stinky.

    [Walk–I hope you know I’m having a ball messing with you. Actually, I’m quite harmless in spite of all my ranting and raving. I reckon I’m just going through a creative stage and you know how temperamental we artists can be.]

  64. Looks like a giant meltdown to me.

  65. As stories goes, this one should.

  66. Shaddy, I like to dish it out so I can take it, the only thing leaving is the crow.

  67. I flushed it.

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