Zephyr Flare
/pose
I'm working on a one shot/two shot/possibly more bit of writting currently. A humour thing that has a bit of a poke at all manners of things such as what is happening here in Britain, Pokemon games, bad fic writting as well as general wtf Ooness.
I realise it won't be to everybodies taste either since I'm very much a dark humoured lover personally. However, below is a sample of part of what I've written so far and may go over again a few times. Do you think you might be at all interested in reading, any ideas, is it TOO British?
If you live in this country you need humour
Apologies if the quote tags are soemwhat bothersome. Also, any ideas for a title would be much appreciated.
Anywho the sample:
I really didn't want to post the Lab part as I'm still working on it while trying not to laugh since it still is a bit rough round the edges, hopefully the above will be enough. If not however I will post a liddle bit more.
Thanks in advance, humour is a tad lopsided out my area, and help greatly welcome
Sandra
I realise it won't be to everybodies taste either since I'm very much a dark humoured lover personally. However, below is a sample of part of what I've written so far and may go over again a few times. Do you think you might be at all interested in reading, any ideas, is it TOO British?
If you live in this country you need humour
Anywho the sample:
To be 12 though and to have not left, a stigma fixates on that so strongly. I mean really, how would a mother live with herself for committing such an atrocity?! Bah she deserved such out-casting from her town, shunned I say!
‘This is for your oh so precious daddy,’ she would ramble endlessly, ‘you’re doing this for daddy, just for daddy, yes all done by daddy’s precious little boy!’ always while moving on the rather flimsy rocking chair within their home to the sound of each floorboard creak. These words repeated over and over about this utterly non-existent father, quite normal affairs really.
You must wonder of course how a boy with such an excitable mother, one who set about dancing and screaming till she was arrested and awarded an ASBO by the neighbours whenever she heard a word with the letter P in it, how on earth he stayed remotely “normal.”
Answer? Just a wandering miracle.
Today lacks any kind of speciality in reality other than being anymore than part of this formerly mentioned tale of woe. Just another Wednesday it is for the pick up of new starter Pokemon, all the other days are generally booked for the lab owner’s sunbathing and tan session you see. Why so weekly? Because who doesn’t love those little bundles of wrathful joy that is a new Pokemon generation!
All the more ideal for a deranged mother to shoo her son out the door while going
‘Stay out, you’re a big precious little boy now taaa~’, before blocking it shut with the rocking chair on the inside and then in turn rambling how her infinitely precious little boy is finally going out into the world.
So when a backpack is shoved into his arms and he is thrown out the door as he was momentarily before, what is he to do? Cause mild profanity and stomp over the to lab of course! It is a very good thing that those boots were made for walking as well as stomping otherwise they might be not as good for the agitated trainer to stomp in.
Now, standing before the door with a somewhat scowling face and crossed arms would be the hero of our tale, supposedly destined to save us all from imminent destruction according to some fanciful cryptic documents and to do what nobody ever could do before him.
At least, according to the script.
I really didn't want to post the Lab part as I'm still working on it while trying not to laugh since it still is a bit rough round the edges, hopefully the above will be enough. If not however I will post a liddle bit more.
Thanks in advance, humour is a tad lopsided out my area, and help greatly welcome
Sandra
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