Creatia
Go to group page
"The Bag" 1 Sentence Project- Editor Kaedance
Here's another 1-sentence project for all you Creatians (Creators? Creations?). The rules are the same as before: suggest one line at a time. After a while, I'll pick the next line from the replies and we'll build a story together. No real word limit on this one, but let's keep it under novel-length, ok? Below is the first line.
"It all started with a green bag."
Discussion started by kaedance , on 05 January 05:22 PM
Wall
You will need to be a member of this group first before you can post a reply.
It's Scotty....thank goodness, he's always just in time! cried George
Monday, 23 January 2012 14:01
“George - that light,” she said dazedly as she struggled to pick herself up from the floor, “it reminds me of . . . of . . . “
Monday, 23 January 2012 13:39
Dispatcher gives us a hint as to where we might find the prism (or does he...?), so I'm going to go with his submission this round. Steve gets an honorable mention for making me laugh, as always.
Our story so far:
It all started with a green bag. Or at least it should have been a bag, it was there and even though your eyes saw something else, your brain was screaming, IT'S A BAG, IT'S A BAG, JUST SAY IT'S A BAG AND WE CAN GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE ALIVE!! The girl carrying the bag at a brisk pace down a crowded Manhattan street on that particular stuffy, hazy, early summer morning didn't have a whiff of an inkling of the near-catastrophic, mind-bogglingly complex events she would set in motion by her simple decision to carry that bag down that street at that moment and on that day, she just thought it matched her shoes rather well. It sat quietly on her shoulder, casual and innocuous among the other garments of white, black, and blue, and yet the passersby seemed to give it a wide berth, frowning in confusion as they hurried on down the sidewalk to rejoin the rest of their safe, sensible lives.
George, who was immune to the mind control, followed her at a safe distance, but close enough so he could still see the green tendril attached to the back of her neck. It wasn't the first one he had seen - all over the city people were walking around with strange things attached to their necks, bags, books, and even a shopping cart. They took a different form for each person, but as far as he could tell, he was the only one that saw their true forms....and that worried him the most.
He rushed the girl, snatching the creature from her, breaking the connection, and in one smooth motion stuffed it into a garbage can. She stood gaping, wide-eyed and breathless until she asked in a grating whisper: "do you know how much that bag cost?" Holding her by both shoulders and looking down, he whispered; "shut up and reach into my pocket." Transfixed by his gaze and compelled by something purely instinctual, she fumbled with the front of his jeans until he shook his head with a tired smile and said, "My JACKET pocket."
In the pocket, she felt a metal disk, but as soon as she touched it, it was as if everything around her became more clear. She began to notice that some people were carrying around rather strange looking things: A man carrying a large squirming worm like a briefcase, a woman pulling a scaly thing on a dog's leash, a pair of joggers with lizards wrapped around their shoulders, a skateboarder with a toad-like creature poised on his back - they were all around her, yet no one seemed to notice anything strange.
"What's going on?" She asked George, her attention spreading from across the road to all around her; she couldn't quite seem to figure out how any of it was possible, it was like some sort of dream, where she was struck dead still and helpless. "I'll tell you everything, but first we have to get out of here before the creature I took off of you comes after us," George said urgently. George towed the bewildered girl through the crowded streets, driven by the HURRY HURRY HURRY in his head, knowing that they were being watched, knowing that at any time the Overlords could make their move, knowing that they had no choice but to try to make it to the basement of the Macy's on the corner of 7th and Main.
In the shadows of the basement there lurked an unusual creature, a large slug thing, but he was not one of the neuroparasites. George cursed as he banged his head against one of the low-hanging lights, which caused the shadows to swirl, confusing an image of distorted, grotesque, and glistening alien flesh. The girl recoiled as she saw the creature, which slid forward and said in a crisp, clear voice, "What's wrong, my dear? Haven't you a hug for your father?"
Jazmin squeezed the disk in her hand so tightly that it hurt, and said "You bastard - whatever you are - the Overlords took my father years ago!" Her eyes grew large as the creature started making noises that could have been described as laughter or as trying to use a grater on slate. "How did I know that?" she whispered.
“That construct,” said the slug thing in its thick, wet, meaty voice, “I’m sorry to say, was not your true father, my dear, but built rather as a necessity of the times out of a small pack of toy poodles to help protect both your, and my, true identity from the Overlords.” Sluggo, as she seemed to imagine its name, then began coughing up little replicas of itself and gasped; "You'll need these when they've matured enough to scout out the location of the Prism!"
Jazmin gingerly picked up the creatures, using a tissue to keep from getting slime on her hand, and placed them carefully into a handy green shoulder bag. George jumped to his feet in alarm, 'Jazmine, where did you get that bag? I thought I threw that in the garbage!' Jazmin looked down at the bag, a sort of fog drifting across her eyes. 'I got it upstairs in Macy's,' she smiled dully, her mind already gone.
Before George could react, Jazmin's legs catapulted her forward and she landed on top of Sluggo - bag first. "NOOOOOOOO!" screamed Sluggo, his eyeballs huge and bulging at the end of stiffened eyestalks as he writhed across the floor in a tangled knot of giant slug, Jazmin, and green bag, crashed through several abandoned sales displays and smashed into a group of mannequins at the end of the basement.
George dashed forward, but before he could reach the entangled mess, a ferocious bark stopped him in his tracks: standing in front of him, teeth bared and growling, were a half-dozen toy poodles - and they weren't cute. At the same time, the mannequins pulled their stand posts out of their bases and crawled on all fours towards the pair, turning to wield the base posts as menacing weapons.
Shrieking in horror, Sluggo heaved the girl up and tossed her across the room, as the green bag fastened onto his side and incredibly, began to swallow, gulping it's way inch by inch up the giant slug's glistening body.
"Quick", the giant slug gasped as his body continued to slide into the bag's maw, and retched up a single tiny slug onto the floor. "This is the last one, and your only chance to find the prism. I'm sorry my dear, it appears that I won't be able to help you."
A shaft of light caught the slug's slime trail, dazzling Jazmin's eyes with its rainbow hues.
So what's next?
Our story so far:
It all started with a green bag. Or at least it should have been a bag, it was there and even though your eyes saw something else, your brain was screaming, IT'S A BAG, IT'S A BAG, JUST SAY IT'S A BAG AND WE CAN GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE ALIVE!! The girl carrying the bag at a brisk pace down a crowded Manhattan street on that particular stuffy, hazy, early summer morning didn't have a whiff of an inkling of the near-catastrophic, mind-bogglingly complex events she would set in motion by her simple decision to carry that bag down that street at that moment and on that day, she just thought it matched her shoes rather well. It sat quietly on her shoulder, casual and innocuous among the other garments of white, black, and blue, and yet the passersby seemed to give it a wide berth, frowning in confusion as they hurried on down the sidewalk to rejoin the rest of their safe, sensible lives.
George, who was immune to the mind control, followed her at a safe distance, but close enough so he could still see the green tendril attached to the back of her neck. It wasn't the first one he had seen - all over the city people were walking around with strange things attached to their necks, bags, books, and even a shopping cart. They took a different form for each person, but as far as he could tell, he was the only one that saw their true forms....and that worried him the most.
He rushed the girl, snatching the creature from her, breaking the connection, and in one smooth motion stuffed it into a garbage can. She stood gaping, wide-eyed and breathless until she asked in a grating whisper: "do you know how much that bag cost?" Holding her by both shoulders and looking down, he whispered; "shut up and reach into my pocket." Transfixed by his gaze and compelled by something purely instinctual, she fumbled with the front of his jeans until he shook his head with a tired smile and said, "My JACKET pocket."
In the pocket, she felt a metal disk, but as soon as she touched it, it was as if everything around her became more clear. She began to notice that some people were carrying around rather strange looking things: A man carrying a large squirming worm like a briefcase, a woman pulling a scaly thing on a dog's leash, a pair of joggers with lizards wrapped around their shoulders, a skateboarder with a toad-like creature poised on his back - they were all around her, yet no one seemed to notice anything strange.
"What's going on?" She asked George, her attention spreading from across the road to all around her; she couldn't quite seem to figure out how any of it was possible, it was like some sort of dream, where she was struck dead still and helpless. "I'll tell you everything, but first we have to get out of here before the creature I took off of you comes after us," George said urgently. George towed the bewildered girl through the crowded streets, driven by the HURRY HURRY HURRY in his head, knowing that they were being watched, knowing that at any time the Overlords could make their move, knowing that they had no choice but to try to make it to the basement of the Macy's on the corner of 7th and Main.
In the shadows of the basement there lurked an unusual creature, a large slug thing, but he was not one of the neuroparasites. George cursed as he banged his head against one of the low-hanging lights, which caused the shadows to swirl, confusing an image of distorted, grotesque, and glistening alien flesh. The girl recoiled as she saw the creature, which slid forward and said in a crisp, clear voice, "What's wrong, my dear? Haven't you a hug for your father?"
Jazmin squeezed the disk in her hand so tightly that it hurt, and said "You bastard - whatever you are - the Overlords took my father years ago!" Her eyes grew large as the creature started making noises that could have been described as laughter or as trying to use a grater on slate. "How did I know that?" she whispered.
“That construct,” said the slug thing in its thick, wet, meaty voice, “I’m sorry to say, was not your true father, my dear, but built rather as a necessity of the times out of a small pack of toy poodles to help protect both your, and my, true identity from the Overlords.” Sluggo, as she seemed to imagine its name, then began coughing up little replicas of itself and gasped; "You'll need these when they've matured enough to scout out the location of the Prism!"
Jazmin gingerly picked up the creatures, using a tissue to keep from getting slime on her hand, and placed them carefully into a handy green shoulder bag. George jumped to his feet in alarm, 'Jazmine, where did you get that bag? I thought I threw that in the garbage!' Jazmin looked down at the bag, a sort of fog drifting across her eyes. 'I got it upstairs in Macy's,' she smiled dully, her mind already gone.
Before George could react, Jazmin's legs catapulted her forward and she landed on top of Sluggo - bag first. "NOOOOOOOO!" screamed Sluggo, his eyeballs huge and bulging at the end of stiffened eyestalks as he writhed across the floor in a tangled knot of giant slug, Jazmin, and green bag, crashed through several abandoned sales displays and smashed into a group of mannequins at the end of the basement.
George dashed forward, but before he could reach the entangled mess, a ferocious bark stopped him in his tracks: standing in front of him, teeth bared and growling, were a half-dozen toy poodles - and they weren't cute. At the same time, the mannequins pulled their stand posts out of their bases and crawled on all fours towards the pair, turning to wield the base posts as menacing weapons.
Shrieking in horror, Sluggo heaved the girl up and tossed her across the room, as the green bag fastened onto his side and incredibly, began to swallow, gulping it's way inch by inch up the giant slug's glistening body.
"Quick", the giant slug gasped as his body continued to slide into the bag's maw, and retched up a single tiny slug onto the floor. "This is the last one, and your only chance to find the prism. I'm sorry my dear, it appears that I won't be able to help you."
A shaft of light caught the slug's slime trail, dazzling Jazmin's eyes with its rainbow hues.
So what's next?
Monday, 23 January 2012 08:09
Jazmin sprawled on the floor, her eyes wide, and stretched a hand out to the giant slug.
Monday, 16 January 2012 07:18
A shaft of light caught the slug's slime trail, dazzling Jazmin's eyes with its rainbow hues.
(hint hint?)
(hint hint?)
Friday, 06 January 2012 15:30
We need to get this story back on track. We're still stuck in the basement, but we've got a new goal- find the prism. What is the prism? Where is it located? How will a single tiny slug help us? Where did Jazmin get that fetching green bag? It goes so well with her shoes...
Monday, 02 January 2012 09:55
As they walked past Sluggo's Deli a little old lady walk by them with two toy poodles on a leash. One it the dogs lunged for Jasmine's ankle. "Nasty little ankel biters." She said.
Thursday, 08 December 2011 18:43
Hah - great ending, Steve. I wonder if we can work the toy poodles in . . .
Thursday, 08 December 2011 16:28
Before anyone else can come up with a legit single sentence I thought I better post my happy ending.
As they were leaving the theater an usher came forward and offered her an olive drab green canvas bag with a faded US on it, a vintage pre-war gas mask bag. "Is this your bag miss?" He asked.
"Don't touch that! You don't know where it's been." George said.
As they walked down the busy side walks in the direction of what they still hoped was a safe house in Greenwich Village they passed a Deli named Sluggo's. The oversized man behind the counter waived at them in recognition.
"He sure looks different now, doesn't he." George commented.
As they were leaving the theater an usher came forward and offered her an olive drab green canvas bag with a faded US on it, a vintage pre-war gas mask bag. "Is this your bag miss?" He asked.
"Don't touch that! You don't know where it's been." George said.
As they walked down the busy side walks in the direction of what they still hoped was a safe house in Greenwich Village they passed a Deli named Sluggo's. The oversized man behind the counter waived at them in recognition.
"He sure looks different now, doesn't he." George commented.
Thursday, 08 December 2011 04:48
At that moment a portal opened and Sluggo bellowed, "Quick! Now is your only chance to escape to an upscale department store on Fifth Avenue!" at which moment the jumped only to find themselves in the dingy waiting room of a sleazy Forty-Second Street B-Movie theater. "Oh! We've been down graded!" they both shouted as soon as they became aware of their surroundings, and "Its the 1970's!"
Wednesday, 07 December 2011 17:29