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Short Stories as Advertisements

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posted on Jan, 25 2006 @ 10:59 AM
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A few years back I was involved in a writing group and one of the exercises we did was writing really short stories (as close to 300 words as possible) that ended in an advertisement slogan. The slogan was sort of a punchline, or the "twist", of the story. I thought this might be something fun for people here. It was soon discovered that the more disturbing the story, the better the "punchline." To be clear, the stories aren't really promoting the product or company, which is obvious from the following example submitted by myself:

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Most of my friends are from out of town. I live and work beside one of the busiest interstates on the east coast. I watch the traffic and imagine the road is an artery and the vehicles are the blood, pumping life from here to New York, and then back down to Miami. I know a couple of people who work at the Waffle House next door, but they never come see me at the motel. My real friends are the motorists who stop and spend the night.

I make sure the rooms are clean and the bathrooms stocked with towels. I take care of them. That's what friends are for. People who stay in Room 212 are my best friends. I can tell a 212 as soon as they drive up. Young couple in an older car, no kids, usually running away from something or chasing a dream. You can tell who they are.

It's hard always making new friends, especially in an out of the way place like this, so I usually keep my best friends around as long as possible. I've got a recipe for that. The last ones lasted nearly 2 years.

I watch the traffic and sometimes it makes my heart ache at how many friends pass me by. All the old cars with young couples, trying to find someone or some place that understands them. All they have to do is stop by. I'm open 24/7 and welcome anyone who wants to stay the night... or longer. I wish there was a way to let them know that "Vacancy" means "Love." After all, of all the motels on the interstate they pick mine, being friendly is the least I can do.

I'm Tom Bodett for Motel 6… We'll leave a light on for ya.

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Add your own! It's fun!




posted on Jan, 25 2006 @ 11:01 AM
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Way to slide in your FREE AD!



posted on Jan, 25 2006 @ 11:15 AM
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~~

ah-ha....

that could have been very subtile product placement

i leave it to the jury to decide



posted on Jan, 25 2006 @ 12:14 PM
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Yeah, product placement with an ad about a Tom Boddett being a serial killer? I assure you, it's just a fun writing excercise, nothing more.



posted on Jan, 27 2006 @ 09:21 AM
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Ok, here's another:

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One foot after the other, one hand after the other. That's all Tom was thinking, all he ever thought when he was climbing. His spiked boots dug into the ice as he inched his way up. A nylon rope connected him to the mountain and to his wife Maxine, who was about ten meters lower on the frozen face. Over the years Tom and Maxine had built up a trust for each other that surpassed any typical marriage vow. They trusted one another with their lives, and proved it every weekend.

That's what Tom was thinking when he fell. There was no avoiding the panic, but he also knew there was a protocol for this sort of thing. If he survived the fall, there would be things to do. He started thinking through the scenarios in his head. He felt the tug and snap of one of the spikes giving way, and then another, and finally his right shoulder cracked against the ice. It wasn't a bad hit, and he didn't think it was broken. He flailed around for a handhold, sliding now instead of falling. After a few meters he was once again air born, falling headfirst toward a ground he couldn't see.

All at once, he felt the soft snow envelop him, and then for just a heartbeat he was in the air again, and then he hit hard on solid ground. He looked around and knew he'd fallen into a crevasse and was now lost in an otherworldly underground snow bubble. His shoulder hurt, but he could move. It took him a moment or two of inexplicable agony to realize his leg was broken.

Luckily the rope was still connected to his belt. He yanked on it and instead of becoming taut it gave way. His heart quickened as he reeled in the slack rope like a fisherman. Finally, the rope ended exactly where he knew it would, on the belt of his wife, who fell lifeless to the floor of the crevasse.

He used the knife she'd given him on their last anniversary to cut the rope free from Maxine. Till death do us part. Tom knew he couldn't get out. He had taken the precaution of notifying a Park Ranger about their intended climb and they were due to check in with him the next day.

It would take a while for the Ranger to realize he and Maxine were missing, and then probably a few days searching to actually find them. He had enough thermal packs to keep from freezing, and with Maxine's pack he had enough water to last a few days. Tom gazed over at Maxine's limp body, and knew there was only one other thing he needed. Maxine was there to save him, one last time.

Lance Crackers - Don't Go 'Round Hungry!



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