Writing Prompts #13

Wow, it looks like it’s been quite a while since I’ve posted one of these–I didn’t post the ones from the first meeting in November, as they all ended up being part of the NaNo project, and then I missed 2 meetings in a row (though the first one in December didn’t involve writing anyway.  I think our moderator gave everyone a break from writing and they played a board game instead.  I had dinner made FOR me that night, and I didn’t want to discourage my husband from cooking, so…).

But!  I’m back, with some great stuff, I think.  We did an “end of the world” theme with the prompts, and it was so much fun.  The moderator also let us run with no time limit on each prompt, which led me to be very…very…wordy.  The 2nd prompt ran over 3 handwritten pages.  We also were at one of my favorite spots in the area, Wally Waffle.  I hadn’t been in quite a while, since college, I think, but it was just as yummy as I remembered.  I had a pecan belgian waffle with honey butter while others had an Elvis waffle (waffle with bacon and peanut butter chips baked in and topped with bananas and whipped cream), chicken and waffles, and the BIGGEST PANCAKES I’ve seen outside that episode of Man Vs Food.  ENORMOUS.

Prompt #1–you are a cult leader trying to lure people in with the End of the World, what would you say?

Repent your sins, the end of the world is near!  We will all meet our maker in a fiery ball of death in one week!  Aliens will come–I can hear them through my electric toothbrush in the mornings and evenings, and they are very angry at us, the human race.  They’re upset with the mess we’ve made of our environment, how we desecrate animals for our own entertainment and nutrition!  They hate how we fight and pollute the oceans with the packaging from our material wants.  But most of all, they are angry with our pollution of the air in space with our obsessions with Snooki and the Situation, and all things involving rigged, ear-splitting singing competitions.  They’ve heard us from millions of miles away and will be here in one week–two at the most–and they will vaporize us!  They have the technology to dig to the core of our planet in the blink of an eye, where they will use the heat and pressure against us, and the planet will explode,  leaving only small chunks to mark our once green planet.
Repent, my brothers and sisters, repent!  The end is nigh, and only I hold the key to your salvation!

Prompt #2–it’s the end of the world and the only two people left alive are you…and Richard Simmons

I could hear annoying 80s pop music blaring through my closed and bolted bedroom door.  I groggily opened my eyes, trying to figure out why I was hearing music–my apartment had been deadly silent the night when I’d gone to sleep the night before.  There had been no garbage trucks, honking of angry taxi drivers, or even the arguments of the transvestite prostitutes that worked the corner below my window.  Usually I fell asleep to Destiny hollering at Cherry Pie to give her back her best Dolly wig, or Starlight crying to anyone who would listen about her no good, cheating boyfriend. I thought that last part to be ironic, considering Starlight’s chosen profession.
The music continued to pulse, and I gripped the baseball bat I’d salvaged from my neighbor’s apartment and slept with last night, my arms curled up around it like a lover.  I looked out the window, and saw the same abandoned street I’d seen the day before.  The battery had apparently finally run down on the car that sat haphazardly in the intersection, right blinker on.  I’d found no sign of anyone yesterday, so who was in my living room this morning, playing that annoyingly cheerful music?
I unlocked the padlock I’d stolen from the hardware store down the street (just because I couldn’t find anyone didn’t mean I was alone, so one can’t be too careful) and slowly opened the door.  I crept down the short hallway and peered around the corner.
Standing in my living room, dressed in a spangly pink tank top and matching way-too-short exercise shorts, danced Richard Simmons.  He had found the copy of “80s Blast Off!” I’d inherited from my grandmother and I’d sworn I’d given away.  The bat clattered from my fingers in shock.  Just my luck, the world ended and the only other person on the planet was Richard Simmons.

Prompt #3–Mayan Zombie Apocalypse.  Where is the toxin and how is it released?

Found journal, dated December 25th 2012

I swear the zombie apocalypse wasn’t my fault.  I totally did not bring about the end of civilization as we know it.  And before you ask, I don’t know how I survived being infected–I’m sure there are others out there like me, I can’t be the only one!
I guess I should back up a bit–to 5 days ago.  My friends and I decided that we wanted to see the apocalypse up close, at a Mayan ruin.  We’d scrimped and saved, and someone decided it’d be awesome to road trip our way there.
It wasn’t awesome.  We constantly ran out of gas (Mexico, once you get off the highly tourist laden coasts, is not exactly swimming in gas stations), we got ripped off by the locals, and I don’t even want to talk about that flat tire, so don’t ask.
So, we finally got there after five days of brutal travel.  Samantha, my best friend and college roommate, and I brought along our dogs, and we figured they could use a little non-car time and set off.  I found a trail that led off the parking lot so we set off, the dogs happily sniffing all the new vegetation.
We were about half a mile from the car when both dogs just went…apeshit and pulled the leashes out of our hands and zoomed off of the path.  We chased after them, trying to shield our faces from low hanging branches while trying to keep on our feet in the thick undergrowth.
My dog growled, then barked sharply, Samantha’s dog answering with a high-pitched yelp.  We caught up with them in a small clearing.  Honestly, we should have known something was up–the flowers in the clearing were almost neon bright in color and the low hanging tree branches seemed to move independent of a breeze.
Teh two dog had found a strange oblong container and were snapping at each other over it.  I tugged it out of my dog’s jaws and examined it.  It was some sort of glossy wood, covered in strange symbols.  I shook it, but heard no sound from within it.  I examined both ends and found one end screwed off.  I popped the lid off and coughed as a strange dust burst out and covered my face.  “Ugh!” I exclaimed and sneezed violently all over Samantha, who had come over to investigate the odd container.
The next day, Sam got sick and within minutes, the entire group was ill.  I had to watch as they died, and then, to my horror, reanimated.  I took refuge in a tree as they tried to follow me, but their death deadened limbs and brains wouldn’t coordinate enough for them to follow.
So, you see, the apocalypse wasn’t my fault, it’s was my dog’s!

Prompt #4–Zombie sport (this is set in the same universe as above)

The great Zombie apocalypse of 2012 left the world bereft of a lot of things–people, food, electricity, and more.  Gradually, though, those humans who had somehow escaped the disease started banding together and making a dent in the ravening horde milling about trying to make a meal out of their brains.  Doctors thought it was from a gene mutation only found in about 1/10 of the population.
In 2213, most of the remaining zombies had been corralled and gathered into large holding pens.  Unsure of what to do with them and noticing a lack of organized sports that their ancestors had enjoyed, a group of enterprising people, descended from team owners and pro athletes (for some reason, athletes seemed to have a higher chance of having the gene mutation) got together and created zombie forms of the most popular sports.  Sports such as Zombie Football, Zombie Basketball, and Zombie Baseball were born.
The sports were similar to their original games.  Zombie football was played with one zombie as the ball.  However, instead of throwing the zombie–they were too unwieldly to throw very far–the opposing teams had to chase the zombie into their end zone, or keep the opposing team from doing so.  Extra points were awarded for punting the zombified head through the uprights.
Zombie baseball probably had the most changes.  The pitchers were given a zombie each, and they tried to keep the opposing team from hitting the zombie body parts being hurled at them.  If a part was hit, the pitching team had to chase it down and reunite it with its body before the batter rounded the bases.  Zombie baseball was infinitely more interesting than the original game, as each body part would run away from the people chasing it, leading to some hilarious play.
Zombie basketball didn’t make it very far off the ground–they discovered early on that zombie heads wouldn’t bounce no matter how hard you tried to dribble them–they would just splat on the court and leave smears of rotted brains on the glossy floorboards.
A favorite elementary school game, however, was Zombie Dodgeball–you never knew if that body part your classmate just hurled at you would try to eat your eyeballs out or not.  Good clean fun for the kids!

Story #3, I think, could be developed into a book, and story #4 was just way too much fun to write.  I wanted to add in a scene during the 2225 World Series and chasing a zombie hand around the stadium with hilarious results, but everyone else was done and waiting on me to finish.  It’s left over from NaNo, being way too wordy.

Published in: on December 17, 2012 at 12:22 pm  Leave a Comment  
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