I think I’ll spare you guys my fairly bad Weiss Kruez fanfic that I found in my writing notebook…the dangers of using an old notebook, I guess. Perhaps I’ll have a bad fanfic post, as another notebook I use has a fantastically bad CSI: Miami fanfic in the back of it. I think I just figured out what I’m posting on Friday!
Prompt #1
Plan your own funeral
Picture it: mounds of flowers; slow, sad music. A plush casket up front where the body is laid out reverently, perfectly dressed, makeup almost lifelike. Mourners gather around the casket, tears in their eyes as they tell stories about the deceased’s good deeds, generous heart, and loving nature.
Now.
Scratch that.
Instead, you’re outside somewhere pretty, maybe next to a stream. There’s no casket, no pedestal, no blown up pictures. Just someone holding a small, understated urn and a small group of mourners. They’re still telling stories, but there are no tears–just howls of laughter. “Remember te time she–” someone will begin, and someone else will jump in with a story. Eventually, there will be a moment of natural silence, and the person holding the urn will say a few words, then sprinkle some (not all) of the ashes into and near the stream, and the group will drift off. The urn will be relegated to some relative’s bookshelf, where it will creep out the younger generations for a long time.
Prompt #2
Unicorns. I love unicorns. There are others in my writing group, however, who do not like unicorns unless they’re fileted and served up on a hot stone.
“But Twilight Sparkle!” whined Rarity. Twilight Sparkle sighed and turned away from her book on Unicorn History.
“What, Rarity?” she asked, annoyed at her childhood friend. She had a huge test tomorrow in Unicorn Physiology and a paper on the impact of unicorns on Equestria’s history due the day after. She hadn’t even started the paper yet. Spike had thrown a party the previous night, inviting all his dragon buddies over for a hellacious kegger.
“You promised!” Rarity said, crossing her hooves.
“I know, I know,” Twilight Sparkle replied, sighing heavily. “It’s just that–”
Rarity cut her off. “No excuses Twilight!” she said angrily. “You’ve blown me off three times already!”
Ahhh, the unicorns of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Applejack is my favorite, but she’s not a unicorn so she doesn’t appear in this truncated vignette.
Prompt #3
You’re dead, then what?
Unfortunately for the police officer that found me, I’d been dead for almost a week. It wasn’t pleasant–I’d contracted the virus that had killed and reanimated me like some sort of sick meat puppet–thousands before me. I was slowly rotting in my studio apartment, afraid to leave. I’d watched the news–anyone who’d been infected had been re-killed horribly. All I’ll let you know is it involves disarticulation and dismemberment. I really think you don’t want to know any more.
I guess I can’t blame the uninfected–most of us that caught TFC-103 and re-animated were violent–angry at their lives being cut short and taking it out on the still living, I guess. Anyone who was attacked by a TFC-103 victim would end up loosing any body part that came in contact. There weren’t many survivors.
I’m not sure who sent the police officer–I’d had the presence of what was left of my mind to call in sick to work, and most of my family was long gone. Maybe it was one of my neighbors–I guess a week old reanimated corpse doesn’t smell so good. I wouldn’t know, I’d lost my sense of smell when I’d died.
I don’t know what possessed me to answer the knock at the door–it’d taken quite an effort to unstick my gloppy buttocks from my pleather couch. I know, pleather…but it was free.
The officer’s first instinct was to draw his service weapon, but I was pretty speedy for a dead chick.
That story was a fun one to write. I may end up adding onto it and developing it into something more. I’m sure you’re interested in finding out what happens to our luckless police officer.
If you haven’t done so yet, don’t forget to check out and enter to win the books from my last post!
A Random Flood of Words... 