so I started to write about three different endings to this story but it ain't really going anywhere in a hurry. Here's my first paragraph of the last installment.
"With a large percentage of The Doc's formidable array of psychotropic substances dispensed amongst the rocks, the stage was set for an interesting evening of poker. The Doc and I decided to sit tight and wait for the sherbert to kick in, folding most of our hands and observing our opponents with greater than usual interest. We didn't have to wait long. About twenty minutes in and after another round of 'sherbert', one of the rocks began to exhibit signs of becoming unbalanced. This guy's nickname amongst the regulars is 'Splinter'. The origins of this monicker had puzzled me for many months so I queried its provenance one day with a dealer. "He's called Splinter" he said, pausing for effect, "because he's a pain in the arse". I had to admit that the nickname was well deserved as Splinter was undoubtedly a prick of the highest order, taking great delight in slow-rolling his opponents and keeping up a constant stream of unpleasant trash-talk."
I seem to have mislaid my Muse so here, without further ado, is El Stuntman's first-ever Reader's Contest!!!!
Yes, if you can write a suitable ending to this damn story, I will publish it here and give you a case of the finest beer known to man. It's the Tripel Westmalle down near the end. Get cracking etc...
el S
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment