Let's Write a Story TOGETHER

[Rainbow]

Already being blind, it still hurt like hell. For the next ten minutes Algwen sat in would-be tears as shkler eye sockets bled, but the director thought shkle should put more emotion in and told shkler to do Suzuki. Gwenal stood up on ane foot and contorted her body as the blood from her eye sockets drenched her. She died that way. Benjamin Franklin came to find shkler like this. She died rigor mortis, but her director insisted that she wasn't totally still. Benji was taken aback to say the least, but he knew he could still do something about the rip in spacetime that would bring her back by taking time back to before shkle died. The stitches had not worked the first time, but this time, he would staple!

[AHMETxRock]

And truly, a staple of the american culture would be to blame the muslims. Angrily, Benjamin franklin raised his feather pen into the air and unleased a small time portal. He would travel to the future, and find a Muslim man so annoying that everyone would unify against him in order to avoid taking responsibility for their own contributions to the entire farce.
Obviously traveling through a time rift portal allowed him to master the art of time travel. I mean, if you're in a time portal rift and you DON'T learn how to time travel, you pretty much suck.
I digress...

[Cirtur]

Out of the story, at what point do we call it the end and post it all together? I am willing to put it together, along with avatars next to the sections.

[AHMETxRock]

The story so far. To read, I'd just quote it, delete the size and color code right after this line, and maybe on the last line if you're stingy. You are welcome folks.

George was a young man when he moved to Manhattan. The place had always had an appeal he refused to find in the countryside, so the 6'1'', strapping lad had left his parents and even his girlfriend behind the minute he could to pursue a life there. He meant to be in business, but when he came to the city the idea faded away, like other dreams to move to Chicago or LA. His biggest mistake was moving to New York for a dream. The reality of the place was cold and much harsher than his boyish fantasies of the place made it to be. When he arrived there, a country boy with a southern draw and no concept of city life, he found himself lost and disheartened at the truth of the city.

But this story is not about him. Rather, it is about the small orphan child that he ignored on the way to the Big City. Lost, alone, half-starved, the child wanted only a friend to help him survive in this cruel uncaring world that took his parents at such a tender age.

The only thing his parents left him when the left this world was a name. Benjamin Franklin.

And so, one September Friday, young Benjamin crawled into the saddlebags of a merchant's camel, determined to seek out wealth and fame in some more hospitable land.

However, the moment he entered the saddlebag, he realized that the entire thing was filled with gold! This man was obviously a gold trader, and the pieces of cloth at the top of every basket were merely a way to hide all the gold that he was hiding. Benjamin grabbed a bejeweled dagger from the pile and began to plot how he could murder the merchant and abscond with the bounty.

He ran his finger along the edge of the bejeweled blade, going over again and again his murder of this merchant. He felt his blood boil and his heart freeze. He raised the dagger with his sweaty hands and greedily eyed the landscape of potential wounds across his quarry's back, but before he could bring this suspenseful scene to a bloody close, Benjamin Franklin was interrupted by his old friend...

Morning Wood!
"Drat!" Benjamin thought to himself in an aside that the merchant, as of the moment, was unaware of. "I have a hard on from thinking of all the debauchery I shall enact with this gold. Surely I must do something to send this boiling blood of mine back to my brain, rather than my head!"

The following incident would be known as the time when Benjamin Franklin first tested the properties of electricity...

But as Benjamin tried madly to calm his RAGING BONER with electric, something was afoot. At the foot of his bed, actually. Underneath his bed there lay a dead hooker. The hooker was not Benjamin's, nor did it belong to anyone around. The hooker, as it were, was from space. It just so happened that the electric shock on Benjamin's hard-on surged to the body and activated the hooker's space powers, reincarnating her and allowing her to rise from under the bed to Benji's side.

Her eyes glowing with an inhuman ferocity, the hooker lifted the trembling Benjamin from the bed and began to shake him violently. "I am Selan Arthigkhanesh, The Hooker in whose image all other Hookers were cast. Because you have returned me to the Universe of Space, I am compelled by gratitude to grant you three Space Wishes."

Benjamin screamed in shock, but sobered up rather quickly. "Three space wishes? Are those like wishes? In space?" Selan replied in the affirmative and Benjamin put on the widest grin you'd ever seen.

1. I wish anyone that ever called themself mountainmage shall never ever get to touch a woman, even if this means rewriting the past.
2. I wish that The middle east is able to prosper.
3. I want a pony with a cup holder and a jetpack saddle. Make that a unicorn, actually.

I think, though, my desires against those that go by 'mountainmage' are rooted in my own virginity. I am sexually frustrated and I can't help but put my anger out on other because I am ugly. It's just so hard sometimes! I know I am hideous and there is nothing I can do about it, but I also can't help but to insult those named mountainmage. If I had that unicorn things would be better, I know.

I did once have a unicorn named Jeremy. He used his horn to satisfy my needs and in return I game him sugar lumps and ruffled his mane. But of course, all that had to come to an end with the advent of Television. A man had videotaped mine and Jeremy's sexual congress and had sent it to a news station. I cried and against my better judgement, my father sent Jeremy to France, until this scandal blew over.

It never did.

Thought James as he awoke. His mind rolled with vague images of the strange and rambling dream. He could recall only a unicorn as he tugged off his sheets. A unicorn and a strange man. James tore from the bed, then, and rooted for his journal in the mess about his room so he might record this dream. His mind was hazy with a picture of a stupid imagining, but he got the feeling the dream was cool. As he sat cross-legged on his bed he suddenly grew tired, though. He fell back, as shot by an arrow, and slumbered again.

"Yes!" shouted the Agents of Gamma Force Five as their sleep rap began its work on James' fragile body. They were sending the rap sub-neurally and as it entered James' mind he began to hum the hook line.
"Bang Bang - Those motherfuckers go to sleep" he whispered as he lay back, as he fell asleep and as Agent Leroy crept into his room. The codes must be in here somewhere, though Leroy.

While searching for the codes, Leroy came upon something most fowl.
Rosie O'Donald Porn! Truly, this was agony! A most devious fail-safe that ensnared his mind.
If someone went through the effort of getting this, however, than Leroy's target must surely be within reach.

He knew now, that this was serious and he should turn back. He promptly did. As he made his way back through the horrid porn and other obstacles, he thought quietly of a plan to get a sandwich. He promptly did. On his way out of Subway (he hated Quiznos) he spotted something strange, however. In the middle of the restaurant there stood a forty foot giant mechanical spider. His name was Jim. The odd thing was that Jim had a name tag that said Tim. In his curiosity, he approached the young mechanical spider. "What's wrong with your name tag?" he gasped.
"The printers got it wrong." He said in his mechanical spider voice that coincidentally sounded exactly like Bill Cosby.
"Oh." He said, and left.

While munching on his five, five-dollar, five-dollar foot-long our eponymous hero got to thinking. What am I doing with my life? I feel obligated to fulfill the prophecy my mom told me when I was a child. As long as I live, I'll never forget the words on that fortune cookie's mystic scroll. "You will do great things." After tossing the wrapper into the garbage, he knew what he had to do.

Benjamin Franklin tied his shoes and straightened his tie and marched dutifully towards the patent office. He was about to undertake a herculean task. He was about to invent...the internets...

Four days later and the work was still bitter. The patent office had reminded him that he should invent things before he came to them, so he had burned down their offices with liberty. He sat at his desk. Waiting. Waiting for the spider in the invention to die. He glanced down at his blueprints. Wait, perhaps he didn't need dead bugs in the internet! Maybe he could use alive ones!

Hurrying outside he knocked over a small child, who promptly apologised for being in the way and hung himself. Not stopping, Benjamin Franklin marched into Al's Ants and Bees Emporium.

He opened the door to find a gigantic rift of anti-matter or something of the sort that was sucking in all the bees and ants, as well as the rest of the things in the building. Al was grasping a pillar for his dear life, his body parallel to the floor as the force of suction grew almost as powerful as MM's mod edits, whoever that person might be.
Benjamin Franklin knew what to do. He pulled out his ball of twine and leaped at the hole. With handiwork far too quick to be comprehended by the human eye, benjamin began to stich up the tear in time. Within seconds he was finished, save nine stichings that had to be made from the inside.

Benjamin leaded inside the center, knowing that waiting for tomorrow what he could kick ass right now would be folly, as the threads would weaken and come undone. Moments later, the rift vanished, and Al fell to the floor and broke his nose.

He touched his nose to see his dark blood was not crimson, but a deadly sort of indigo. Reality was altering. He looked over to Benjamin Franklin to find he was flying a technicolor kite and riding a lightning bolt. Not like a horse, he was having sex with it. Al turned briskly to sea that space time had collapsed into a lobster and that time had turned green. He cried out but made only the sound of a paleontologist. This was Hell. Worse than hell. As the duct tape of the universe ripped into pieces he knew he witnessed the end of everything. There was only one thing he could do.

Solemnly, Al unzipped his fly and cradled his genitals in his right hand. He began to stroke his penis as he imagined his picture of Jane Fonda at home.

"One last time," he whispered to himself, tears forming in his eyes, "One last time."

He promptly went blind.

In his blindness, though, he reached understanding. He knew that even if he made his conquest to save the world, the world still fucking sucked. He took this to heart and bought some hookers as he waited to die. Space Hookers. With the space hookers he ______ their ______ dirty________ _________with his ________ and _________ _______.

But enough of underscores, he had some serious business to get on with. But that light. That beautiful light. He reached up to touch it and felt a feeling of movement all through his body.

Al woke up. He rubbed his breasts gingerly. Al? His? Something wasn't right but he...she couldn't figure it out.
"Go back to sleep, Gwen." exclaimed his bed-mate, a young semi-attractive woman.

"BENJAMIN FRANKLIN'S WARP THROUGH THE TIME-SPACE RIFT MUST HAVE SHFTED REALITY!" AL/GWEN THOUGHT TO HERSELF. USUALLY HE WOULD NOT THINK OF SOMETHING THAT OUTLANDISH, BUT IN THIS PARTICULAR SITUATION THE HISTERICAL NATURE OF A WOMAN'S THOUGHT PROCESS JUST MIGHT BE SOMETHING SHE CAN USE TO HIS ADVANTAGE.
AL/GWEN PUNCHED OUT THE TEETH OF THE WOMAN NEXT TO HIM/HER, AND USED HE WOMANS TEETH TO GOUGE HER EYES OUT.

Already being blind, it still hurt like hell. For the next ten minutes Algwen sat in would-be tears as shkler eye sockets bled, but the director thought shkle should put more emotion in and told shkler to do Suzuki. Gwenal stood up on ane foot and contorted her body as the blood from her eye sockets drenched her. She died that way. Benjamin Franklin came to find shkler like this. She died rigor mortis, but her director insisted that she wasn't totally still. Benji was taken aback to say the least, but he knew he could still do something about the rip in spacetime that would bring her back by taking time back to before shkle died. The stitches had not worked the first time, but this time, he would staple!

And truly, a staple of the american culture would be to blame the muslims. Angrily, Benjamin franklin raised his feather pen into the air and unleased a small time portal. He would travel to the future, and find a Muslim man so annoying that everyone would unify against him in order to avoid taking responsibility for their own contributions to the entire farce.
Obviously traveling through a time rift portal allowed him to master the art of time travel. I mean, if you're in a time portal rift and you DON'T learn how to time travel, you pretty much suck.
I digress...

Now with more Fengwhore!

[Cirtur]

I think there's a bit missing. In between mountainmage and myself.

[AHMETxRock]

There is most definately a missing one, apparently. I shall hunt it down and kills it dead.

Edit: I've inserted it properly, but I didn't tweak Cirtur's code so things are messed up. Give me another moment.

Edit again: Oh yes, that's good. With approximately 33% increase in Fengwhore accounted for!

[Rainbow]

Are we reading it now? I didn't say you could do that.

[AHMETxRock]

It's hidden, and the thread is dead.
You could have showed some interest when no one was posting, perhaps insert a bit of flavor into that meatloaf of a story.
Perhaps when someone said "Oh, are we reading the story?" you could have answered.

[FengharTheNord]

It's hidden, and the thread is dead.
You could have showed some interest when no one was posting, perhaps insert a bit of flavor into that meatloaf of a story.
Perhaps when someone said "Oh, are we reading the story?" you could have answered.

Ohwhatdaaaamn

[Rainbow]

Fine. It's kinda obvious that it ends when you end it. Du-uh. Whoever concludes it concludes it.