Creative Writing Prompt #276

Create a story or poem inspired by a line in a David Lehman poem: "Death was last seen in the auction room, looking worried."

Oh shat. Last night, I had a little too much to drink and now I wake up in an auction room. Guess what they're selling up there? My death scythe. Yeah. That's right. I bet you're pretty horrified to hear that, because I know I sure am. I don't even really know how any of it happened. By 'it', I mean why am I wearing a grass skirt? Where is my left arm? Howcome auctionee #45, that old lady over there with the sagging right eye, is checking me out? This is what I'd ask myself but, unfortunately, myself is somewhere in this room stumbling about looking for more booze. I don't mean that in a bad way but, really, how can I mean it in a good way? I just watch from the sidelines, because I am my own subconscious. Sometimes, I embarass myself--like the other day, for instance:

It was a day like any other. The birds were singing, school was in, and I was out on another run to the retirement home in downtown Red Deer, Alberta. Unfortunately, I sometimes get my directions mixed up since I have so many souls to reap on a daily basis. You see, I somehow ended up inside the Red Deer North District Secondary School gym.

Ahhh...Yes, I see that you're starting to understand where this is going.

When I was young, my parents led me to believe that it is best not to judge a book by its cover and so, upon seeing the wheezing, profusely sweating, blue lipped Danny Sullivan dragging himself across the gymnasium to complete his second and last lap (mind you, this is a very small gymnasium), how was I to know that it wasn't his time? I hadn't been told that I was at a high school--I just thought it was a rather educational old folks' home. It never looks good on your transcript in the afterlife if you kill a thirteen year-old invalid by mistake instead of a ninety-eight year-old hag who suffers from severe atherosclerosis. Some people frown upon 'oopsie's such as this. They say that Death is a joke, that Life is unfair, and that they wish it was them. Well, I can honestly say that yes, I am a bit of a joke (but only on Sundays--that's my comedy night). However, I don't care much for the fact that these people just assume things and can't forgive an honest mistake. I know Life. He's a good guy, and usually he's pretty good on honesty and equality. I suppose you could say he's rather disinterested in his job, in a way, but that isn't really a bad thing for a guy like Life. It's better for him to be unprejudiced than to be on everyone's case all the time. It just irritates me that everyone always hands him all the credit on a silver platter. If people can be happy for the birth of a child, why can they not be happy for the death of those in a plane crash? Would they rather that their friends or relatives suffer painfully without any salvation? At any rate, I digress.

Here we are again, at the auction house. I really do hope that you've enjoyed my story, because I won't be around much longer. Death will soon go by the name of Bidder #56---Antoine Juarez. There could be a chance that I can somehow obtain my scythe before the end of the day, but it's risky. Wait. What am I talking about? I'm still Death. At least, for now I am.

~I, in my dazed and confused stupor, am still stumbling aimlessly. However, upon realization that my life might not be at its end, I leap forth! Flying at the auction associate with rage, I tear out his spinal cord and reclaim what is rightfully mine. The Death scythe, in all its resplendent glory, slices the still standing body of said auction associate in two.

Holding the bloody cord of spine above my head, I slowly lean towards the microphone. The horrified crowd trembles in silence and anticipation of what I am about to say. What crucial epiphany will I deliver to mankind? How will I exercise my wrath?? I breathe in slowly and open my mouth.

"Well, I'd heard that politicians and auctioneers alike are spineless, but I didn't think it was true!"~

At this point, I'd prefer not to tell you what happened after that. I will leave to your imagination the horrified expressions, shrieks of terror, and panic that may or may not have ensued. Let me just tell you that, after all was said and done, I came out of that auction house one spine less, and fifty-six dollars, twenty-three cents richer.

Creative Writing Prompt #188

"Write from the point of view of a coffee maker that short-circuited."

Cale. That one simple word. It inspires fear inside the very heart of me. Deep down into the depths. The dark, abysmal depths of emptiness. The emptiness that I feel on those days where Cale and his classmates are in this room, seemingly at the crack of dawn, is second to none. I sometimes wonder why. Why have I been placed upon this Earth? On those days, I am committed to brutal slave labour--the intense heat of the sun beating away at my back, like a spiked club to a defenseless baby seal. Unfortunately for me and young Mr. Seal, no-one cares about us. We are the social outcasts of the greater world. For young Mr. Seal, there is seen to be no purpose. As for myself...I am looked down upon by the other kitchen appliances. My kind, in reality, is truly the weakest link. Is there a redeeming feature in my bleak future? Judging by the hours of endless toil I must do, digesting coffe beans and giving off a dark waste product, I think not. I will never understand why humans do the things that they do. Do they find sick pleasure in drinking my bitter waste? All it amounts to is the yellowing of their death-munchers. My foil lid trembles at the very thought--I am very thankful that I am not within their tastes. Humans have never attempted to eat me, and so I shall do the same. I will remain anonymous, as I have done for many a year, and shall only use the power of scalding hot water to my advantage when I see fit.


The other day, I finally snapped. That young girl, the one with the curly blond hair, will never be the same again. You see...I was a bit down in the mood department and didn't feel like I could put up with any shenanigans. It was another one of those days when I was set to work in the early morning, so I blew up. All over her face. I just blew up. Scalding coffee grounds and burning hot coffee cascaded down her face as her skin bubbled, and then I says to myself I says "Coffee Maker, you've gone and done yourself a bad deed, you have." Anyhow, once the ambulance had all come and gone, I started feeling a little funny in the tummy. I'm not sure how it all began, but things started to fall apart. Really, my lid was cracking and my handle was rattling and everything. All of a sudden I---beep boop! Woof Woof, Meow Meow!! Bob eats the shoes McGee! Woolooloopdoopdoop!! Muwhajbnjhnkjkkkalll! ZZzzz---zjjna Does Not Compute. DOES NOT COMPUTE. Cale. The very bane of my caffeinated existence. If I were you, boy, I'd watch myself.

L4D2 Coming to a Store Near You This November!!

Alright. So, hello out there to all you Left 4 Dead fans. This is grand maestro Busted Kneecap/Enigmatic Banana and/or Louis. It seems to me that we'll be expecting the new release of a new videogame that is rumored to be quite amazing. Well, I for one know that I'll sure be playing it on the day that it's released. Why, you might ask? Why the heck not?!! It's freaking L4D2, man!!

I had really intended to do this earlier as a fancy schmancy little shout-out to all my equally, but not quite as pwnsome, killing spree videogame genre fans. What do you call a day without Resident Evil? A day without Left 4 Dead? A day without Assassin's Creed? A day without...The Godfather?? Well, my friend, I would rather not know. For, if a day such as this ever presents itself to the world, my faith in humanity will be lost. Where, oh where, has the meaning of life gone? Hah. Yeah.

So hey. I believe I am entitled to vaguely talk about a few other equally as awesome games in this post, no? All this L4D speak is getting my videogame blood boiling!

Hm, so I happened upon something rather awesome just a few minutes back. Care to take a gander? And no, I'm not referring to geese here, people. This here clock below:

For those of you who haven't played the more primitive of the Resident Evil series, I really suggest that you do. Well...Code Veronica can sortof be bypassed, if you prefer. I found the controls for it to be rather frustrating at times, but played through it anyhow (hah, woe is me). Anyways, Resident Evil: Outbreak and Resident Evil: Outbreak File#2 are both very good games, in my opinion. See, you've got (i)Alyssa Ashcroft, The Daily Raccoon's loyal journalist (and my least favourite character by far) who is only useful on the front that she has a device to pick locks. Then we have (ii)George Hamilton, an excellent surgeon who works at Raccoon General Hospital (or did work, I should say) and is helpful in gameplay due to his ability to make medicines. Next is (iv)Cindy Lennox, a waitress at J's bar who comes in handy in that she can heal with herbs, which she has an abundance of. (v)David King, who happens to be a plumber of few words. In Outbreak, I always play as David, for he is magnificent and can create weapons such as hammers, wooden poles, electric rods and a few other deliciously dangerous things. He can also throw monkey wrenches as projectiles and use his handy dandy knife in close-quarters combat. (vii)Yoko Suzuki. Yup. There's always a stereotypical schoolgirl (university, in this case) in these older games with a stereotypical name. I don't really mind Yoko, per se, but she can sometimes get on my nerves. It's good to have her around though, as she can carry extra items. (viii)Jim Chapman, a subway station employee. His usefulness? Well, let's think of Left 4 Dead for a moment here. Need help? You sure better hope that your other partner is a good one, because you won't be getting any help from this guy. He'll either play dead, fooling the zombies, or run off into the obscure distance and leave you to die a lonely, painful death. Don't care so much for him, no. (x)Mark Wilkins, who is your friendly old security man. At the young age of 52, he can beat the living daylights out of anything with the best of 'em. Except maybe zombie elephants, which we come across in File #2. He always starts off with a high-damage gun which is better than most regular handguns. If you're scared of starting off a scenario in fear of instant death, because you're probably a nub, pick Mark to be your partner. You shall not be disappointed. And finally, we come to (xii)Kevin Ryman, who is a Raccoon Police Officer! He's pretty good with guns, and carries his favourite Colt M1911, I believe it is. He'll always be nearby, so never fear!

And thus is my L4D update, along with a nice little summary of REO characters. There's five scenarios in each Outbreak file, so I suggest, if you can manage to find REO second-hand somewhere, do spend the small amount of cash to pick yourself up a copy. It provides for good entertainment, as there's a mysterious cold-blooded killer, zombie elephants, hornets the size of your torso, and many other fantastic features for you to enjoy, including the ability to request items and use the ad-lib function that allows you to talk to your partners. Well! I think I've just about finished my little spiel, so do enjoy the rest of your morning, afternoon, and/or evening.

P.S.- Capcom, if you're listening, I believe you owe me some money for the publicity I've provided your out of print videogames XD