"I don't like peaches and with pears I'm through.
" I don't like doctors, and I don't like YOU!"
"Should I be amused?"
"Doctor, you can be anything you want to be. Frankly, I don't give a rat's a..."
"Mr. Beckwith," Doctor Perryman quickly interrupted. "When did she start to respond in... ah, this manner?"
"I already told you doc. You not the listenin' type?"
"Tell me again."
Beckwith paused, eyeing the doctor up and down as if attempting, Perryman supposed, to find find some anomaly, some fault, some little label that whispered, "I'm not a real doctor. The real doctor is down in Half Moon Bay playing golf. I'm just the doorman at his apartment uptown he hired and gave a white coat to and oh-golly-you-got-me!"
Good thing the stethascope hung just right from Perryman's neck and that he had ordered extra starch in all of his gleaming labcoats.
"Good thing I shined my shoes," Perryman smiled to himself in mock relief. "And that the diploma framed in gold on the pale wall was from a real university instead of those mail-order ones. "Guess I'm really a doctor," Perryman's eyes answered when they met the grudging surrender of Mr. Beckwith's stare.
"I'm not stoppin' cause I'm havin' fun
"Billy Joe Gardner had better run!"
"Billy Joe?" the doctor wondered aloud.
"Classmate," Beckwith replied. "In her class at Frable. Poor boy ain't been t'a school though since Lutice here's been rhymin' on him,"
"Can't really blame him, the poor kid," mused Beckwith. "Ever since they found Emily Shivers drowned down the..."
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Story Starters for Starters
Hello kiddies, I have been asked to create some potential story starters. I don't mind doing this but... It is up to you to supply the characters' emotions, characteristics designed to face whatever "problem" they encounter and advance the story. Also, the setting that I provide can be fluid. The rising action, climax and falling action leading to whatever conclusion or inconclusion is yours to include.
Hey- It's like having a party. You are providing the food, the music, the games and the guests. I am simply providing the hall...
#1. Of course Blitney knew how to handle the Straussman 88. Fully loaded, it could spray a cool ninety seven shots as steady as the shooter was steady; right to left, left to right, above the defender, below, if the attack came from downhill. Heck, the patented seismic sensor would even whip the base around and flatten any threat sneaking or slithering from behind. Even miniscule change in the air pressure within fifty feet- a slight disturbance in the earth's harmonics caused by footsteps of an average-sized human would shock the Straussman into action. And God help the man or woman in the path of the weapon's splattering apocalypse for it did not differentiate friend from foe... only live from dead. No, Blitney knew how to make the corridor all red and slippery in the space of seconds. He'd done it before and had not wavered. Only this time, this moment he paused, mouth dry.
"Hesitate is death, hesitate is..." his thoughts raced. For the shadows approaching Craig Blitney were half-sized, child shapes and their hypnotic moans quivered in high ranges. No training, no experience, no emotion had taught him to gun down...
Out of the shadows skimmed the first of the child-shapes. Pint-sized it was, with baby-like legs wobbling. Blitney was almost taken with the baby fat calves and thighs waving to find their balance. First one, then another staggered closer. A slight smile crossed the hardened commando's lips as he remembered the futive first steps of his own little ones. His smile froze sharp when he glanced the faces of the half-sized attackers. For they all had, frozen on their baby faces murderous, snarls. Sharp teeth protruded from each soft lip. Snorting sounds gurgled from each rictus mouth. Still... all at once, as the dozens of others came into the half light, it struck him. Every last one of the baby bodies supported a fully grown head- each head a dead ringer for a dead singer... "NOOOOOO ELVIS!" Craig bellowed. He opened fire...
Hey- It's like having a party. You are providing the food, the music, the games and the guests. I am simply providing the hall...
#1. Of course Blitney knew how to handle the Straussman 88. Fully loaded, it could spray a cool ninety seven shots as steady as the shooter was steady; right to left, left to right, above the defender, below, if the attack came from downhill. Heck, the patented seismic sensor would even whip the base around and flatten any threat sneaking or slithering from behind. Even miniscule change in the air pressure within fifty feet- a slight disturbance in the earth's harmonics caused by footsteps of an average-sized human would shock the Straussman into action. And God help the man or woman in the path of the weapon's splattering apocalypse for it did not differentiate friend from foe... only live from dead. No, Blitney knew how to make the corridor all red and slippery in the space of seconds. He'd done it before and had not wavered. Only this time, this moment he paused, mouth dry.
"Hesitate is death, hesitate is..." his thoughts raced. For the shadows approaching Craig Blitney were half-sized, child shapes and their hypnotic moans quivered in high ranges. No training, no experience, no emotion had taught him to gun down...
Out of the shadows skimmed the first of the child-shapes. Pint-sized it was, with baby-like legs wobbling. Blitney was almost taken with the baby fat calves and thighs waving to find their balance. First one, then another staggered closer. A slight smile crossed the hardened commando's lips as he remembered the futive first steps of his own little ones. His smile froze sharp when he glanced the faces of the half-sized attackers. For they all had, frozen on their baby faces murderous, snarls. Sharp teeth protruded from each soft lip. Snorting sounds gurgled from each rictus mouth. Still... all at once, as the dozens of others came into the half light, it struck him. Every last one of the baby bodies supported a fully grown head- each head a dead ringer for a dead singer... "NOOOOOO ELVIS!" Craig bellowed. He opened fire...
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