I have seen this being done on a number of forums and thought I would try here.

A one paragraph story is a collaborative effort to end up with a story in which a number of authors can participate in without knows the outcome - actually the goal is to have NO finish to the story, just an endless twist of plot and sub-stories.

So I thought I would do a conspiracy/UFO/paranornal based story.

Rules:
Keep the post to one paragraph, no limits to size, it can be a sentence or half a page if nessessary.

Post your addition in italics.

If you want to comment, keep the comment small and at the bottom of the post, not in italics.

Serious posters only, ie no hijacking and running down.

If the story is going somewhere, and you wish to change it, do it with tact.

And finally Keep the ball rolling!

EDIT: You need to ask for author status for this forum by U2Uing 'John Bull 1' requesting access.

So here goes:


It's 0240 and my mind is racing too fast to sleep, I guess it's trying to process what I've just learnt."




[edit on 7-9-2004 by Ezekial]

[edit on 8-9-2004 by John bull 1]

Your death will be slow and painful.

Let the flameful trolling begin.

Oh, for further clarification...

I abhor these threads, they belong in BTS. Keep your hands off the sacred prose.

No offence intended, I just REALLY REALLY REALLY hate these threads.

A search would show that weve DONE these before. Theyv all filaed horribly except for the ORIGINAL 3 word story, that was the first one here.

It's 0240 and my mind is racing too fast to sleep, I guess it's trying to process what I've just learnt." "Why did'nt i saw it sooner? All the signs where there."
John gets out of bed to watch some television to get his mind of of things. But how much can a man handle? How long can you walk along with this kind of secret that will influence so many people?



So, this is my adding. On to the next... Cheers

"How can I convince my colleagues the validity of the information I have been confronted with?" he ponders.

John sees the phone in the corner and contemplates who he should call first to inject the truth with. He reluctantly picks up the reciever and dials a Washington DC prefix.

"....click...You have reached the number of Edward Nickols....I am unavailable at the moment...please leave your message and a forwarding number and I will return your call promptly....beep"

"Damn", John thinks. "I haven't got much time left if what has been presented to me is true." He begins to explain his experiences from over the past month that has brought him to this moment.




There you go. Sebastiaan; thanks for participating!


[edit on 8-9-2004 by Ezekial]

It's 0240 and my mind is racing too fast to sleep, I guess it's trying to process what I've just learnt." "Why did'nt i saw it sooner? All the signs where there."
John gets out of bed to watch some television to get his mind of of things. But how much can a man handle? How long can you walk along with this kind of secret that will influence so many people?

"How can I convince my colleagues the validity of the information I have been confronted with?", he ponders.

John sees the phone in the corner and contemplates who he should call first to inject the truth with. He reluctantly picks up the reciever and dials a Washington DC prefix.

"....click...You have reached the number of Edward Nickols....I am unavailable at the moment...please leave your message and a forwarding number and I will return your call promptly....beep"

"Damn", John thinks. "I haven't got much time left if what has been presented to me is true." He begins to explain his experiences from over the past month that has brought him to this moment.

"Edward, please call me back as soon as possible, i'fe stumbled on some information thats vital for you to know. Remember that i said that some high ranking goverment figures are not what they seem to be?", after taking a deep breath, "... Its true, so please call me back!". John sits and stares at the tv screen. “How could i be so blind and not see this?”, said John to himself, “I even helped them with making this beast, this unhuman, unholy creation!


Here you go, Ezekial...

Edward was home all along. In fact he was aware of what John had discovered. It was his job to contain the information. He had failed, and the reason he couldn't pick up the phone was evident by the crimson stain on the hardwood floor of his private study.

John had stared at the TV for too long. The numbing quality of hours of Cheers re-runs had failed to pacify his thoughts. "What am I doing," he quietly uttered to himself as he raised up from the couch and grabbed his coat, "What am I doing?" The door slammed behind and the cool rain began to splash his face. Out of the corner of his eye was an unmarked van. "I better be carefull." With only his folder of notes and a pack of cigarettes John headed towards DC.



[edit on 10/9/2004 by earthtone]

As John had anticipated, the van started following his car. Evidently these people, whoever they where, knew what they were doing, keeping their distance as to not cause concern even by the most paranoid individual. "#!" John said to himself, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. "How the hell could I let myself get into this mess?!".

The journey was a long one, John's eyes glued to the rear view, taking every chance to lose the tail and get to Washington without the audience.

Okay folks. Time for an Uncle Nerdling Rant.

Do you know what makes a story good?

PLANNING!

Yes, that's right. Planning. Not skillful use of verbs, litotes and the avoidance of transferred epithets, but PLANNING is the key to a story. You can't possibly write a decent story in this manner as it will reek of mistakes and stupidity.

I believe this is a noble attempt and not point whoring, but lets face it guys.

Writing like this should not a team effort.

Good point well taken Nerdling.

But let them experiment.

Go ahead guys.

What are you suggesting we do Nerdling to make you happy? I think the start of this one is going alright actually. You interupted the flow now. Tut tut tut tut and so forth.

Thanks JB1. I agree that planning will always make it better, but as the man said, let us experiment .... .. .. .

"Look at him run. He knows we are onto him." States a shadowy figure, illuminated only briefly by the street lights as they pass.
"Are all the preparations made for the capture?" Another asks.

Meanwhile in his SUV, a small grin has emerged on the side of John's face. He has secretly being uploading all of his findings to a silent partner from his Ghost-cell hooked up to his laptop which he left in his car earlier.
A Ghost-cell is a cellphone using a glitch in the US AMPS cell structure and isn't registered at the network level.

"Not so clueless now am I secret agent man?" He s'n-word's.

"Yes! All done!" John quickly disconnects his laptop. "Now to do away with the evidence." John says to himself while he prepares to erase the files from his hard drive.

John is just about to empty the trash can when he realizes he can no longer see his followers in the rear view mirror. "Damn it!" John had only taken his eyes off the van for a couple of seconds - and now it was gone! Had he been wrong about the van? In an attempt to locate the van, John is just about to turn his head when something violently slams into his SUV from the right hand side. "What the #?!" With his heart pounding, John struggles to gain control of the vehicle as he realizes what had just happened.

A Hard Disk finishes writing a chunk of data. Dark hands illuminated by the glow of a screen type frantically across the screen. An onscreen prompt notes the arrival of a "Last Hope" transmission. This protocol is only used when a field researcher of the group in which John is a member is in serious danger. Pending further investigation John's status is classed as MIA with a simple click on the console.

You can see a flashing confirm or deny prompt asking to empty the trashcan. A hand moves over to cancel the command.

Come on guys, get into it!

The masked face, although working for the pursuers, pressed the Confirm Button before his collegues notice.
"The data is now lost, we cannot recover what he may have learnt." States the guilty agent.

Who is this agent, what are his modivations for helping a fugitive with sensative information?

Come one, hot potato - pass it around.