The BLF Game - ZEFRANK.COM

Penut · 07-26-2006, 08:18 AM

It was eary quiet as Detective Jame P. Moss crept past the shelf of hearing aids, he spotted a spot on the ground and bent down to check it out, as he looked through his looking glass he realised he was looking at some glass, a smashed window he thought, though the thought smashed his last idea out of the window. Maybe thats where the glass had come from, no thats absurd, he was talking crazy now, Moss thought to himself as he struggled to push his pet racoon back inside his space suit.

(I needed more full stops!!!)

dddrum · 07-26-2006, 12:28 PM

It was Brillig, and as Mimsy Borogove gyred her slithy toves into the squalid little closet-cubicle I presumptuously called an office, my heart gimbaled in her wabe, and I scarcely heard her say, "Good evening, Mister Momerath," over my own Inner Outgrabe chortling, "Calooh! Callay!" in its frabjous joy.

noxxville · 07-26-2006, 09:29 PM

If things were bad, things were even worse.

Hyakujo's Fox · 07-26-2006, 10:22 PM

It wasn't the best opening line for a novel ever written, but it was the opening line of this novel, and despite it's reluctance to embark on the subject matter proper of the pot boiling crime story that he hoped would soon follow it, Marcus Bales, author, raconteur, and occasional hedge-burner, was happy with his work.

Brynn · 07-27-2006, 04:37 AM

While facing the barrel of the smoking gun, I found myself mentally running through my list of things to do that weren't yet done, which explains why I dialed my dry cleaners' number to take care of my blood-stained shirt instead of calling an ambulance, but it doesn't explain how this story is being told by me, the dead narrator, and it never will - which is exactly why it's a convention I despise with all of my (now constantly bleeding) heart.

xfox · 07-30-2006, 01:13 AM

Take your poison and prizes as follows:

Master_Jedi you get to bite the bullet and read the Hardy Boys.

funkytuba you may Come Die With Me, but please elaborate on your plan.

Coffee you win the Murder Mystery Dinner Party Weekend and the menu will include custard and flashlights and Macintoshs for all the guests.

dinz you get the Agatha Christy Comic Copy Cat Character award.

Hyakujo's Fox is awarded the Golden Juror Medal for literary excellence for your first entry and for the second, the PD James, Provoke Me and Die prize.

trisherina earns the Dashiell Hammett Memorial award for her account of death by second-hand hormones which is, no doubt, sticky.

Penut you take the Mysterious Spot and Strange Pet distinction, and no crime, there.

dddrum morphs the Slippery Star award for a mysterious paragraph.

noxxville is victorious in second place with the It's Elementary Watson win for:

It was quickly evindent by the evidence presented in my presence that the obvious choice was obviously correct: this murder was the work of a murderer.

and,

If things were bad, things were even worse.

The brilliant Brynn really got me with sex, violence, blood and guts:

BLAM BLAM BLAM went my gun, sending an accidental bullet into her gorgeously draped cleavage - and even though I've got the EQ of a fistful of rocks, it still hurt my feelings a little when she said "I never cared for your type anyway," as she slowly chewed a final bite of her grilled cheese sandwich until she could no more.

and,

While facing the barrel of the smoking gun, I found myself mentally running through my list of things to do that weren't yet done, which explains why I dialed my dry cleaners' number to take care of my blood-stained shirt instead of calling an ambulance, but it doesn't explain how this story is being told by me, the dead narrator, and it never will - which is exactly why it's a convention I despise with all of my (now constantly bleeding) heart.

Congrats , Brynn, I feel for you, but you're the winner of this round.

Next genre?

Brynn · 07-31-2006, 04:48 PM

Holy Smokes! Thanks!

The next format should reflect your very worst attempts at simile and/or metaphor, in any genre of your own choosing.

07-26-2006, 08:18 AM	#1
Penut The One, The Only. Join Date: Jul 2006 Posts: 51	It was eary quiet as Detective Jame P. Moss crept past the shelf of hearing aids, he spotted a spot on the ground and bent down to check it out, as he looked through his looking glass he realised he was looking at some glass, a smashed window he thought, though the thought smashed his last idea out of the window. Maybe thats where the glass had come from, no thats absurd, he was talking crazy now, Moss thought to himself as he struggled to push his pet racoon back inside his space suit. (I needed more full stops!!!) __________________ Reassuringly Twatted!

07-26-2006, 12:28 PM	#2
dddrum Amateur Human Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: The Hills north of Mouseland, sunny FLA. Posts: 1,264	Opening line from Spillane's unfinished novel, "To Kill a Jabberwock" It was Brillig, and as Mimsy Borogove gyred her slithy toves into the squalid little closet-cubicle I presumptuously called an office, my heart gimbaled in her wabe, and I scarcely heard her say, "Good evening, Mister Momerath," over my own Inner Outgrabe chortling, "Calooh! Callay!" in its frabjous joy. __________________ ...or words to that effect. Last edited by dddrum : 07-26-2006 at 12:33 PM.

07-26-2006, 09:29 PM	#3
noxxville Disco Maven Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: NC...seriously....how did that happen? Posts: 2,024	If things were bad, things were even worse. __________________ Call that guy butter because he's on a roll!

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07-26-2006, 10:22 PM	#4
Hyakujo's Fox left hanging Join Date: Sep 2003 Location: between the click of the light and the start of the dream Posts: 10,071	It wasn't the best opening line for a novel ever written, but it was the opening line of this novel, and despite it's reluctance to embark on the subject matter proper of the pot boiling crime story that he hoped would soon follow it, Marcus Bales, author, raconteur, and occasional hedge-burner, was happy with his work.

07-27-2006, 04:37 AM	#5
Brynn constantly amazed Join Date: Feb 2005 Location: in the labyrinth of shared happiness Posts: 6,206	While facing the barrel of the smoking gun, I found myself mentally running through my list of things to do that weren't yet done, which explains why I dialed my dry cleaners' number to take care of my blood-stained shirt instead of calling an ambulance, but it doesn't explain how this story is being told by me, the dead narrator, and it never will - which is exactly why it's a convention I despise with all of my (now constantly bleeding) heart.

07-30-2006, 01:13 AM	#6
xfox slightly effective Join Date: Aug 2003 Location: >>> Posts: 2,404	Take your poison and prizes as follows: Master_Jedi you get to bite the bullet and read the Hardy Boys. funkytuba you may Come Die With Me, but please elaborate on your plan. Coffee you win the Murder Mystery Dinner Party Weekend and the menu will include custard and flashlights and Macintoshs for all the guests. dinz you get the Agatha Christy Comic Copy Cat Character award. Hyakujo's Fox is awarded the Golden Juror Medal for literary excellence for your first entry and for the second, the PD James, Provoke Me and Die prize. trisherina earns the Dashiell Hammett Memorial award for her account of death by second-hand hormones which is, no doubt, sticky. Penut you take the Mysterious Spot and Strange Pet distinction, and no crime, there. dddrum morphs the Slippery Star award for a mysterious paragraph. noxxville is victorious in second place with the It's Elementary Watson win for: It was quickly evindent by the evidence presented in my presence that the obvious choice was obviously correct: this murder was the work of a murderer. and, If things were bad, things were even worse. The brilliant Brynn really got me with sex, violence, blood and guts: BLAM BLAM BLAM went my gun, sending an accidental bullet into her gorgeously draped cleavage - and even though I've got the EQ of a fistful of rocks, it still hurt my feelings a little when she said "I never cared for your type anyway," as she slowly chewed a final bite of her grilled cheese sandwich until she could no more. and, While facing the barrel of the smoking gun, I found myself mentally running through my list of things to do that weren't yet done, which explains why I dialed my dry cleaners' number to take care of my blood-stained shirt instead of calling an ambulance, but it doesn't explain how this story is being told by me, the dead narrator, and it never will - which is exactly why it's a convention I despise with all of my (now constantly bleeding) heart. Congrats , Brynn, I feel for you, but you're the winner of this round. Next genre?

07-31-2006, 04:48 PM	#7
Brynn constantly amazed Join Date: Feb 2005 Location: in the labyrinth of shared happiness Posts: 6,206	Holy Smokes! Thanks! The next format should reflect your very worst attempts at simile and/or metaphor, in any genre of your own choosing.