Plagiarism

[Deviate]

taking the first line from a book i'm reading and using it to start collaborative fiction.

please join me, will you, and plagiarize your favourite authors to create something fantastic that they never intended. well, something they never intended, anyway.

-----

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.
Of course, the reason I did not realize it was because for a long time I was, in fact, not dead.
Riding the trans-temporal modulation machine or ttmm for short, I skimmed through the galaxy and arrived at zz9 plural z alpha, known to some of the better-traveled hitchhikers of the galaxy as that most dull and harmless planet, earth, which, as scholors of galactic history know, began as the computer designed by Deep Thought to ponder the primordial question - the question of life, the universe, and everything, whose answer is 42. Interestingly, the Earth is 42 orders of magnitude greater than the Planck length - but that is for another story.

Young Zaphod began to wonder again what he was doing here. He read the memo he had stored on the ship’s intellapod. “Go to zz9 plural z alpha. Make sure everything is “perfectly safe.”

Puzzling over this, Zaphod bonked his heads together and let out a long sort of sighing sound. Make what perfectly safe, one of his heads asked the other.

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.
Of course, the reason I did not realize it was because for a long time I was, in fact, not dead.
Riding the trans-temporal modulation machine or ttmm for short, I skimmed through the galaxy and arrived at zz9 plural z alpha, known to some of the better-traveled hitchhikers of the galaxy as that most dull and harmless planet, earth, which, as scholors of galactic history know, began as the computer designed by Deep Thought to ponder the primordial question - the question of life, the universe, and everything, whose answer is 42. Interestingly, the Earth is 42 orders of magnitude greater than the Planck length - but that is for another story.

Young Zaphod began to wonder again what he was doing here. He read the memo he had stored on the ship’s intellapod. “Go to zz9 plural z alpha. Make sure everything is “perfectly safe.”

Puzzling over this, Zaphod bonked his heads together and let out a long sort of sighing sound. Make what perfectly safe, one of his heads asked the other.

“Don’t Panic,” read the big fuzzy letters on the cover of the compact dictionary unit. Zaphod ran his fingers over the letters and tried not to. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of his communication equipment buzzing. The voice on the other end sounded rather Vogon. In a voice that resembled a dozen wolves roaring like hippopotami while gargling with pea soup, the Vogon said “I am commander Gobbledygook. The CCX-7 trans-galactic spaceroute was planned to pass through zz9 plural z alpha. We have sent the required notice 700 years ago- if you didn’t bother to read it, that’s your problem. The phase sublimation beams are warmed up- If I were you, I’d be very unhappy. I’d also consider the merits of getting out of my way. Thank you, and have a nice day.” The comm unit clicked off. “Oh, yes,” one of Zaphod’s heads said to the other. “I remember now- we have to stop the Vogons.”

The brief moment of cheer Zaphod enjoyed in figuring out what he was supposed to do was immediately quelled by a very depressed-sounding voice. Marvin the robot said “But how are we going to stop them. We are going to die here.”

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.
Of course, the reason I did not realize it was because for a long time I was, in fact, not dead.
Riding the trans-temporal modulation machine or ttmm for short, I skimmed through the galaxy and arrived at zz9 plural z alpha, known to some of the better-traveled hitchhikers of the galaxy as that most dull and harmless planet, earth, which, as scholors of galactic history know, began as the computer designed by Deep Thought to ponder the primordial question - the question of life, the universe, and everything, whose answer is 42. Interestingly, the Earth is 42 orders of magnitude greater than the Planck length - but that is for another story.

Young Zaphod began to wonder again what he was doing here. He read the memo he had stored on the ship’s intellapod. “Go to zz9 plural z alpha. Make sure everything is “perfectly safe.”

Puzzling over this, Zaphod bonked his heads together and let out a long sort of sighing sound. Make what perfectly safe, one of his heads asked the other.

“Don’t Panic,” read the big fuzzy letters on the cover of the compact dictionary unit. Zaphod ran his fingers over the letters and tried not to. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of his communication equipment buzzing. The voice on the other end sounded rather Vogon. In a voice that resembled a dozen wolves roaring like hippopotami while gargling with pea soup, the Vogon said “I am commander Gobbledygook. The CCX-7 trans-galactic spaceroute was planned to pass through zz9 plural z alpha. We have sent the required notice 700 years ago- if you didn’t bother to read it, that’s your problem. The phase sublimation beams are warmed up- If I were you, I’d be very unhappy. I’d also consider the merits of getting out of my way. Thank you, and have a nice day.” The comm unit clicked off. “Oh, yes,” one of Zaphod’s heads said to the other. “I remember now- we have to stop the Vogons.”

The brief moment of cheer Zaphod enjoyed in figuring out what he was supposed to do was immediately quelled by a very depressed-sounding voice. Marvin the robot said “But how are we going to stop them. We are going to die here.”

The words echoed through his brain: we are going to die here… we are going to die here. As the sound of the Vogon phaser guns reached an unbearable noise level, a strange, obnoxious beeping sound tore through the air. No, no the cell phone. Not the alarm system. What is it?

Kinsey woke up and realized that she had been sleeping too long. There was a something weighing down one side of the bed. She heard someone breathing. Hurridly, she got up, only to see it was only Jonah. A grin was spread across his sleeping face, as if, even in sleep, he was infused with the pleasure of the night before.

[straymonk]

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.
Of course, the reason I did not realize it was because for a long time I was, in fact, not dead.
Riding the trans-temporal modulation machine or ttmm for short, I skimmed through the galaxy and arrived at zz9 plural z alpha, known to some of the better-traveled hitchhikers of the galaxy as that most dull and harmless planet, earth, which, as scholors of galactic history know, began as the computer designed by Deep Thought to ponder the primordial question - the question of life, the universe, and everything, whose answer is 42. Interestingly, the Earth is 42 orders of magnitude greater than the Planck length - but that is for another story.

Young Zaphod began to wonder again what he was doing here. He read the memo he had stored on the ship’s intellapod. “Go to zz9 plural z alpha. Make sure everything is “perfectly safe.”

Puzzling over this, Zaphod bonked his heads together and let out a long sort of sighing sound. Make what perfectly safe, one of his heads asked the other.

“Don’t Panic,” read the big fuzzy letters on the cover of the compact dictionary unit. Zaphod ran his fingers over the letters and tried not to. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of his communication equipment buzzing. The voice on the other end sounded rather Vogon. In a voice that resembled a dozen wolves roaring like hippopotami while gargling with pea soup, the Vogon said “I am commander Gobbledygook. The CCX-7 trans-galactic spaceroute was planned to pass through zz9 plural z alpha. We have sent the required notice 700 years ago- if you didn’t bother to read it, that’s your problem. The phase sublimation beams are warmed up- If I were you, I’d be very unhappy. I’d also consider the merits of getting out of my way. Thank you, and have a nice day.” The comm unit clicked off. “Oh, yes,” one of Zaphod’s heads said to the other. “I remember now- we have to stop the Vogons.”

The brief moment of cheer Zaphod enjoyed in figuring out what he was supposed to do was immediately quelled by a very depressed-sounding voice. Marvin the robot said “But how are we going to stop them. We are going to die here.”

The words echoed through his brain: we are going to die here… we are going to die here. As the sound of the Vogon phaser guns reached an unbearable noise level, a strange, obnoxious beeping sound tore through the air. No, no the cell phone. Not the alarm system. What is it?

Kinsey woke up and realized that she had been sleeping too long. There was a something weighing down one side of the bed. She heard someone breathing. Hurridly, she got up, only to see it was only Jonah. A grin was spread across his sleeping face, as if, even in sleep, he was infused with the pleasure of the night before.

He turned round and listened, and soon there could be no doubt: some one was singing a song; a deep glad voice was singing carelessly and happily, but it was singing nonsense:

"Hey dol! merry dol! ring a ding dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!"

Half hopeful and half afraid of some new danger . . .

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.
Of course, the reason I did not realize it was because for a long time I was, in fact, not dead.
Riding the trans-temporal modulation machine or ttmm for short, I skimmed through the galaxy and arrived at zz9 plural z alpha, known to some of the better-traveled hitchhikers of the galaxy as that most dull and harmless planet, earth, which, as scholors of galactic history know, began as the computer designed by Deep Thought to ponder the primordial question - the question of life, the universe, and everything, whose answer is 42. Interestingly, the Earth is 42 orders of magnitude greater than the Planck length - but that is for another story.

Young Zaphod began to wonder again what he was doing here. He read the memo he had stored on the ship’s intellapod. “Go to zz9 plural z alpha. Make sure everything is “perfectly safe.”

Puzzling over this, Zaphod bonked his heads together and let out a long sort of sighing sound. Make what perfectly safe, one of his heads asked the other.

“Don’t Panic,” read the big fuzzy letters on the cover of the compact dictionary unit. Zaphod ran his fingers over the letters and tried not to. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of his communication equipment buzzing. The voice on the other end sounded rather Vogon. In a voice that resembled a dozen wolves roaring like hippopotami while gargling with pea soup, the Vogon said “I am commander Gobbledygook. The CCX-7 trans-galactic spaceroute was planned to pass through zz9 plural z alpha. We have sent the required notice 700 years ago- if you didn’t bother to read it, that’s your problem. The phase sublimation beams are warmed up- If I were you, I’d be very unhappy. I’d also consider the merits of getting out of my way. Thank you, and have a nice day.” The comm unit clicked off. “Oh, yes,” one of Zaphod’s heads said to the other. “I remember now- we have to stop the Vogons.”

The brief moment of cheer Zaphod enjoyed in figuring out what he was supposed to do was immediately quelled by a very depressed-sounding voice. Marvin the robot said “But how are we going to stop them. We are going to die here.”

The words echoed through his brain: we are going to die here… we are going to die here. As the sound of the Vogon phaser guns reached an unbearable noise level, a strange, obnoxious beeping sound tore through the air. No, not the cell phone. Not the alarm system. What is it?

Kinsey woke up and realized that she had been sleeping too long. There was something weighing down one side of the bed. She heard someone breathing. Hurridly, she got up, only to see it was only Jonah. A grin was spread across his sleeping face, as if, even in sleep, his body remembered the pleasure of the night before.

He turned round and listened, and soon there could be no doubt: some one was singing a song; a deep glad voice was singing carelessly and happily, but it was singing nonsense:

"Hey dol! merry dol! ring a ding dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!"

Half hopeful and half afraid of some new danger, he looked at Kinsey, saw her insane, Einsteinian hair sticking up everywhere. “Who’s that?” he asked Kinsey.
“I don”t know,” said Kinsey.
Suddenly out of a long string of nonsense-words (or so they seemed) the voice rose up loud and clear and burst into this song:

Hey! Come merry dol! Derry dol! My darling!
Light goes the weather-wind and feathered starling.
Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight,
Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight,
There my pretty lady is, River-woman's daughter,
Slender as the willow-wand, clearer than the water.
Old Tom Bombadil water lilies bringing,
Comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing?
Hey! Come merry dol! Derry dol! And merry-o,
Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!
Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away!
Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.
Tom's going home again water-lillies bringing.
Hey! Come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?

[funkytuba]

I did not realize for a long time that I was dead.
Of course, the reason I did not realize it was because for a long time I was, in fact, not dead.
Riding the trans-temporal modulation machine or ttmm for short, I skimmed through the galaxy and arrived at zz9 plural z alpha, known to some of the better-traveled hitchhikers of the galaxy as that most dull and harmless planet, earth, which, as scholors of galactic history know, began as the computer designed by Deep Thought to ponder the primordial question - the question of life, the universe, and everything, whose answer is 42. Interestingly, the Earth is 42 orders of magnitude greater than the Planck length - but that is for another story.

Young Zaphod began to wonder again what he was doing here. He read the memo he had stored on the ship’s intellapod. “Go to zz9 plural z alpha. Make sure everything is “perfectly safe.”

Puzzling over this, Zaphod bonked his heads together and let out a long sort of sighing sound. Make what perfectly safe, one of his heads asked the other.

“Don’t Panic,” read the big fuzzy letters on the cover of the compact dictionary unit. Zaphod ran his fingers over the letters and tried not to. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of his communication equipment buzzing. The voice on the other end sounded rather Vogon. In a voice that resembled a dozen wolves roaring like hippopotami while gargling with pea soup, the Vogon said “I am commander Gobbledygook. The CCX-7 trans-galactic spaceroute was planned to pass through zz9 plural z alpha. We have sent the required notice 700 years ago- if you didn’t bother to read it, that’s your problem. The phase sublimation beams are warmed up- If I were you, I’d be very unhappy. I’d also consider the merits of getting out of my way. Thank you, and have a nice day.” The comm unit clicked off. “Oh, yes,” one of Zaphod’s heads said to the other. “I remember now- we have to stop the Vogons.”

The brief moment of cheer Zaphod enjoyed in figuring out what he was supposed to do was immediately quelled by a very depressed-sounding voice. Marvin the robot said “But how are we going to stop them. We are going to die here.”

The words echoed through his brain: we are going to die here… we are going to die here. As the sound of the Vogon phaser guns reached an unbearable noise level, a strange, obnoxious beeping sound tore through the air. No, not the cell phone. Not the alarm system. What is it?

Kinsey woke up and realized that she had been sleeping too long. There was something weighing down one side of the bed. She heard someone breathing. Hurridly, she got up, only to see it was only Jonah. A grin was spread across his sleeping face, as if, even in sleep, his body remembered the pleasure of the night before.

He turned round and listened, and soon there could be no doubt: some one was singing a song; a deep glad voice was singing carelessly and happily, but it was singing nonsense:

"Hey dol! merry dol! ring a ding dillo!
Ring a dong! hop along! fal lal the willow! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!"

Half hopeful and half afraid of some new danger, he looked at Kinsey, saw her insane, Einsteinian hair sticking up everywhere. “Who’s that?” he asked Kinsey.
“I don”t know,” said Kinsey.
Suddenly out of a long string of nonsense-words (or so they seemed) the voice rose up loud and clear and burst into this song:

Hey! Come merry dol! Derry dol! My darling!
Light goes the weather-wind and feathered starling.
Down along under Hill, shining in the sunlight,
Waiting on the doorstep for the cold starlight,
There my pretty lady is, River-woman's daughter,
Slender as the willow-wand, clearer than the water.
Old Tom Bombadil water lilies bringing,
Comes hopping home again. Can you hear him singing?
Hey! Come merry dol! Derry dol! And merry-o,
Goldberry, Goldberry, merry yellow berry-o!
Poor old Willow-man, you tuck your roots away!
Tom's in a hurry now. Evening will follow day.
Tom's going home again water-lillies bringing.
Hey! Come derry dol! Can you hear me singing?

"We like humans. We trust humans. We have dealt profitably with humans. It is our advantage to encourage humans, since they will certainly reach the Lesser Cloud before we do."