Write another paragraph, you can write absolutely anything. If I were to write about a man getting in a car, then you could write about him driving to the moon and massively chage the plot. Before you continue, write a small note to warn people not to post before you cos that would be crap The heavy stench of liquor was slowly drifting in from the bar next door. In the room, three men were seated each with a glass of whiskey in hand. For a full five minutes not one man spoke. Each was consumed in his thoughts about the problem. The first to speak was the oldest man, seated in the corner furthest from the door. His voice made the others jump, they had almost forgotten about the others in the room. "What about The Star," he asked in a deep, gruff voice that held such a threat of violence it had the ability to stun even the most hardened convict into silence. The man seated closest to the door rose and went to look out the window, a flickering street lamp was shining in, casting the only light into the room. "He's getting convicted next week, death sentence more then likely. He shouldn't have shot those kids, poor bastard." The man returned to his seat and took a sip of his whiskey. Now it was the third mans turn to speak "Listen, if we don't get this problem sorted out within a month tops we face the possibility of losing every single political contact that we have, and if that happens we better face the facts - that we are up shit creek without a paddle and I doubt very much that we will come up clean." With that the three men leave the room, into the cold, bitter night.
Out of nowhere came a bus. When all three men got on they realized everyone on the bus was looking at them weirdly. One man pulled out a gun! "alright all of you, get on the floor!" he screamed BANG! BANG! BANG! the man fell over with a bloody hole in his back
Astonished, the three men looked hurriedly to see who was their saviour. With trembling hands the then great emancipator stood: a skinny white guy with messy brown hair and glasses. As the crowd looked upon him in awe he broke down, crying.
The three men looked at their crying savior "Whats Wrong?" one asked the man didnt answer but when he looked up I saw what was wrong. He looked a lot alike as the man he'd just shot. It was his brother! The man slowly walked out of the bus
Yet, as he walked out of the bus. An armoured column of T-99 tanks came and decimated the place into oblivion. There was still hope as the brother came and shot his JAVELIN at all tanks before getting killed himself. Everyone immediately lost hope. However there was an armoured column of Abrams that came and defeated the T-99's. So a man came and it was the father of the brother for they were half brothers. The brother was revived, however.
"That was an odd daydream," thought one of the men on the bus. The two other men from the bar flanked him as they cautiously proceeded down the aisle. Finding a seat close to the back of the bus, the man took a look out the window. It was raining heavily outside, and a dark, overcast sky loomed above. Barely visible through the downpour, the man could see several uniformed figures gathering on the street corner towards the front of the bus. They were carrying rifles, though it was entirely impossible to make out what kind. The bus door closed as the hiss of pneumatic mechanisms and rumbling of the bus engine began to set them in motion. Just as the bus was passing the street corner, the man caught the gaze of one of the uniformed figures. There was a mean look in his eye.
The mean look in his eye was however not what it meant. His eyes were only bloodshot from the previous battle that happened yesterday in the borders. The soldiers from the 5th Mechanized came marching through the rainy streets. It was a gloomy day for they had not only lost the battle but had to suffer more casualties. Civilian men from the nearby building were being armed with a standard rifle and body armor. I thought to myself ,"They're desperate, they're arming even the civilians."
Suddenly, there was a loud thump & the ground shook violently - the building was crumbling now. Everyone inside frantically rushed to the exit, pushing & knocking each other down whilst small drops of water leaked in through the ceiling. Barely escaping the building with his life, the accountant from a local supermarket pondered, whilst cradeling his knock-off AK-74u. Then out of nowhere he heard a whistling noise unlike anything he had ever heard, he adjusted his head, as to hear it better, when a man with blood shot eyes screamed, "Get down!"
ill start. Two kids were playing basketball outside their house when a mysterious white van pulled up to the curb. One of the kids went back up to the van as the others waited and watched. After 5 minutes the van pulled away and the kid turned around with a nice big vanilla ice cream cone in his hand. He said to the others, "Too bad u guys didnt have the $2.50 for the ice cream!" :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
The others then ran away to their other friends of about 15-20 people. One of them, little Billy, had just read the Communist Manifesto. He gave a long speech about how they controlled the means of the future and that it should be from each according to his ability, and to each according to his need. The other kids immediately agreed, but without the rights of vote or even so much as Free Speech, they had to do something. Little Billy, the amazing tactician he was, plotted out the location of several Ice Cream Parlors in the town. They decided the largest and most unprotected was the Ice Cream shop, 'The Winter Palace'. Little Billy rallied his comrades and they went marching down the streets cheering, being sure to be extra loud by schools and other Child Gathering Spots. Children put down their pencils and papers and joined the march. As they reached 'The Winter Palace', Little Billy ordered an all out, mass assault and looting of the Ice Cream Parlor. Holding the Ice Cream Men hostage, they went through the shop eating every last morsel of Ice Cream. With that, they believed they could do anything as one.
Afterwards, CheFlegel's phone rang. It was the North Korean secret service. "Yes?" he asked, as he put the phone to his ear. The commander spoke to Che slowly and clearly. Che looked confused for a moment, then nodded. "I understand. It will be done." he replied, then put the phone back in his pocket. Che got back in his car, put the key in and turned on the engine. As he pulled out he put on the North Korean national anthem and hummed along to it. His car was bedecked with North Korean flags and communist symbols. He continued humming the North Korean anthem as he drove to Vancouver. Note:No offense Che, it's just satire.
