Thursday, May 21, 2009

Creative Decalogue Writing Experiment

I wrote this for someone, it has a few of the ten commandments in it . . . Let's put as many different commandments as we can! I tag TRS to continue it . . .

"My name is Ira Cohen.

"As a child I was always fascinated with shiny objects. Bits of tiny foil, glass marbles, pieces of metal . . . I would collect them all. I knew they weren't worth much, but in my childish mind, they meant the world to me.

"I became so excited about my collection, that my friend Billy also got involved. One day, Billy called me over to his house -his voice full of excitement.
'Look!' he told me. His hands darted to his pockets - and slowly produced a small gold ring. 'Look what I have . . .'
"I wanted it, I wanted it right away . . . The desire gnawed at me, it began to distract me from everything - school, games, life . . . I needed it for my collection.
One day, at Billy's house, I saw the ring sitting on his desk. When he wasn't looking I stole it. That evening I ran home and put in my drawer with the rest of the shiny odds and ends in my collection.
As the days went by, I forgot about the ring languishing in my drawer. A week or so later, however, my parents came to me. They asked if I had seen a golden ring in Billy's house. Apparently it had been a gift from his Grandfather, and meant very much to him. Guilt welled up in my heart, but I couldn't bring myself to confess my wrongdoing. Though an honest, child - one who felt so ill at ease to lie . . . the word's seemed to flow so easily from my mouth.
'Nope,' I told my mother, 'I've never seen it before.'
'Are you sure?' They asked me.
'Yes!' I answered. 'I swear - I swear to G-d that I've never seen it before!'
'If you see it,' they pressed on, 'you'll let us know . . . right? It was a very expensive gift!'

"I became nervous, I couldn't bear the guilt of stealing something from my best friend.
'I didn't see it, ok!' I yelled at them . . . 'No leave me alone. Just leave me alone . . . I hate you, when you bother me like that!'

"The next day in school I couldn't bear to play with Billy anymore. I became distant from him and our other friends . . . I became depressed, and my grades began to drop. By the time I entered high school, I no longer fit into the system. I made trouble, got into fights . . . When I didn't pass the 11th grade, instead of repeating it, I quit. Working odd jobs, I continued my downwards spiral. At nights I would get drunk and hang around with wild guys and girls like me. I would even use drugs. I couldn't hold down a job with such behavior . . . so I turned back to the one thing I knew I could do . . . I began to steal.
"That's when things got really bad. One day I broke into an old house. I thought it was empty, but I saw old lady inside. Worse yet, she saw me.


We committed adultery. Then I worshiped satan. Then I violated the sabbath and murdered her.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Saved by the bar

...Continued from

The impersonator was preparing for his big day. Of course he had practiced for hours and hours before, but this would be the first time he would be performing live. All right, he had tried performing live once before, but it had been a complete and utter disaster. Or so he liked to believe. His belief's were of course his business alone, and he liked to keep them that away.

Point was, and this was what the impersonator always had to keep in mind, he was going to be performing. Before an adoring crowd. The press was rooting for him to win. The royal box would be occupied tonight, to see him, the impersonator, in his greatest triumph.
The King was complaining again. "Would you just shut up?" asked his wife, "Haven't you been king long enough to know that when these sorts of events happen a royal presence is expected?"

The king responded, "Why can't you just go yourself?"

"Because it would be quite improper for a lady to go unaccompanied to the theatre. Think of the scandal!"

"Why can't you go with some other guy then?"

"Because if I go with 'some other guy' (making quotation marks with her fingers) then people will think that he's cuckolding you, which would of course be highly embarrassing."

The king, who hated when the queen made quotation marks with her fingers, thought of a good idea. "Maybe I go alone?" he asked.

"Absolutely not!" said the queen, "Besides, people might think you were abandoning the eden that is living with me."

The king would have snorted, but he realized that it's improper to snort in front of ladies. Then he realized that this was absolute poppycock, but he still didn't snort, because he knew that if he did his wife would disapprove in the strongest measures.

The queen took a look at the king, wondering why he hadn't said anything, and proceeded to fill the void with, "Besides, I really do want to show that the royals support the arts, and what better way could there be than to attend a live performance at the state theatre?"
Later that night...

The king may have been dominated by his wife, but he did have some powers. When they had first arrived at the theatre he had called the chief chamberlain over and told him to arrange drinks in the royal box, but on his side, so that the queen, a noted teetotaler, wouldn't be able to see what he was imbibing.

Being her usual eagle-eyed self she had in fact noticed the king drinking, but he had suavely turned the situation around by offering her a drink too, and when he handed her a Shirley Temple she was mollified. Obviously the chief chamberlain had followed her instructions and made sure that there was no alcohol in the building.
Half an hour after the show had started, just before the impersonator was to make his grand entrance, the king slumped forward to the floor. The crowd gasped, and the king's attendants rushed forward to help. A man leaped onto the stage and screamed, "Thusly to all tyrants!", and hundreds of guards swarmed forward to waterboard him (at least, that was the plan. First they'd take him into custody, book him, make a few press conferences, etc). The king was carried to a waiting ambulance, and as the sirens roared off into the night the king was transported to the bar of the theatre, his wife following behind the empty ambulance in the royal automobile.

The king's doctor was in the bar too, and he said, "My congratulations, sire, on that most brilliant escape."

"Escape??!!" cried the king, "I was deathly ill! The shock to the system would have killed any lesser creature!"

The royal physician arrived at that moment, and pushing the king's doctor aside, he said, "Yes sire, that assassination attempt would surely have killed any lesser man."

The king gave him a look that would have killed (if looks could kill), and said, "Assassination attempt? Putting ginger ale in my sixth Manhattan was an assassination attempt?"

At this moment the king's own surgeon arrived, and rudely pushing away the king's doctor and the royal physician he said, "Such a shock would surely have killed any lesser man, though I do declare, ginger ale in moderation can help the average diet."

The king, thoroughly disgusted by his inept medical team, wondered where he had gone wrong in life.

To be continued...

Sunday, May 3, 2009

No you didn't!

...Continued from

The King was discussing a plan with his chief economic advisers to sponsor a golf tournament. His advisers weren't particularly enthused with the idea, but they were dealing with the King, and they had to tread lightly. The problem, as they saw it, was that the kingdom didn't stand to gain much, if anything, from a sporting venture, and could quite possibly lose big. The king wasn't listening to all the king's men, and protested that if Monaco could have a grand prix and Luxembourg a tennis tournament, why couldn't he have a golf tournament?

The queen, meanwhile, wasn't impressed with the king's latest idea either, but she wasn't going to say anything. Yet. After all, hadn't she always gotten her way with sufficient cajoling? But now was not the time for such antics. After all, her opinion hadn't even been asked yet. Not that she expected it to be asked. No, the queen rejoiced in an advisory role that was above the asking of opinion. She made her views be known in a far more subtle way than an outside observer, seeing her gross manners and corpulent build, would have ever believed possible.

The king followed his meeting with lunch. His wife, the queen, had ordered cheese omelets, and the king began to eat his with gusto. After a few investigatory bites of her own egg the queen asked, "And how was your morning, dear?"

The king, instantly on his guard following such a patently false opening, guardedly responded, "It was satisfactory." The queen hadn't been prepared for such a brilliant strategic move on the part of the king, and was nonplussed for a moment. Only for a moment of course-she hadn't become the queen by failing to respond to such provocative statements instantly. Girding her wits about her, the queen said, "Well, that's nice. Was anything accomplished?"

Shocked by this completely unexpected rejoinder, the king pondered his next move, but only for the briefest of periods of time. Less than ten seconds to be sure, but possibly a little more than five. Regardless, the king soon gathered his thoughts, and let loose with a barrage of astounding clarity, "Not too much. We discussed various options for making it through the current financial crisis, and we're all pleased with the progress we're making."

The queen was blown out of her boxers by this incredibly coruscating retort, and nearly gave up the fight. She didn't, of course, because she hadn't become the queen by giving up the fight. When the going got tough, the queen got nasty. "So what you're saying, dear, is that you're interested in improving the kingdom's financial well-being with a well-timed stimulus package designed to bolster our workforce and improve morale in both the public and private sector with a series of interventionist measures calculated to dig us out of the morass we've fallen into?"

The king felt that this conversation had gone too far, and he fell asleep. The queen finished his omelet, content in her victory.

To Be Continued...
WHat happened to the post I put up here?