Silliness writes the great American novel...

I know there have been attempts before, but I feel they've been concentrating too much on form. While this can be a good exercise and may even, in the hands of a true master, yield extraordinary results, I feel that it is not the right approach for such a diverse group of creative talents. So I propose that everyone writes just as little or much as they see fit. Let's make literary history together!

The fog had lifted and there was a soft breeze coming in from the sea. It was quite warm, so Johnny took off his jacket, but then he felt chilly. He did not mind, though, and in fact felt like taking off all his clothes and run, just run as fast as he could, feeling the sun and the cold wind on his skin. And he realized that he could, now. There was not a person who would complain.

Johnny liked to climb over the dunes. In his youth, they had been the fortresses and deserts of his adventures, where he saved countless maidens. As a teen, they had shielded him from the taunts of his female classmates, who he could not help but stare at in their recently filled bathing suits.

And then...

one day, Cindy Lewis...

killed everyone.


The End.

*round of applause*

*cries*

EPISODE V

Carlo Spicyweiner looked out over the frozen landscape, and to his horror, saw a herd of giant robot camels marching towards him.

Their crystalline hides glinted in the burgeoning dawn. A closer look with the scanner revealed the details of their peculiar armament: Kangfire cross-weave integrated with Athian spider-silk. These robots were fucking expensive.

Jesus then came back to earth, smote the living fuck of everyone and raptured all the good people to Disney. The Bush family was not invited.

The end.

EPISODE VI - THE CONTINUED EXPLOITS OF CARLO SPICYWEINER

('Scuse me Darke, but I feel like we had a good thing going there.)

As Carlo witnessed the thumping army of death giant robot camels he couln't help but wonder why he had such a porn name

It probably had something to do with his mother.

Lardessa Count-talon the Vth had not only been his mother, but she was also the second ranking member of the Committee for Advanced Progress, an heiress, a dowager, and a bit of a straight-up conqueror.

In addition Lardessa Count-talon Spicyweiner VTH was also Carlo's mother, sister, and somehow, his uncle.


The county she ruled in West Virginia was used to being assaulted by giant robot camels. It usually happened every other Thursday. Weather permitting, of course.

It was true, she spared no expense. The Kangfire was just the start. The peasants had to be kept on their toes, and she wasn't about to use the standard Hegemonic-issue carbonium throw-aways. The peasants would just scavenge the carcasses and make trouble for her constables later. And she didn't like any harm coming to her constables...

Carlo saw a naked figure run into the space between himself and the camels, who tumbled in confusion for a few seconds and then began to retreat.

"Spicyweiner," Carlo exclaimed while extending his hand, as the panting boy stopped about two yards away. Johnny blushed. "Err, thank you sir!" He looked around wide-eyed. "Please, would you mind telling me which year this is?"

"What are you on about, laddie? Everyone knows it's 1985!" Carlo couldn't help but notice the odd tattoos encircling the youth's waist, but he made sure not to stare. The boy's greenish skin was also unusual, now that he thought about it.

"1985? 1985, what?" the boy asked.

"1985, FD, of course!" Carlo answered.

And then, for some reason, the world blew up.

The End.

EPISODE I: A SPACE ODYSSEY

Rudie looked around, a satisfied smirk on his face. Finally, finally, his plans to blow up the world had succeeded. Why did he hate freedom? Why did he hate America? He honestly couldn't tell. Perhaps it was because of his mother. Yes, blame it on mom! That always worked. And indeed, Lardessa Count-talon Cant-Fail had been...

... a pupil of Guy Fawkes (yes, her youthful countenance did belie her true age) from whom she learned the properties of incendiaries and explosives, and from whom she was also instilled with the philosophical principles of the anarchist. She also was afflicted with a late onset personality disorder, which over the centuries grew into a cold kernel of fury within her until her thoughts and her passions were dominated by only one desire: to blow shit up.

Her loins burned for it

...until this burning sensation crescendoed into the agony of childbirth, and on the 7th new moon of the 7th month of the 7th age of Kneptonikon, Rudie was born, with a suit of chain mail and a battle axe in each hand.

...Rudie immediately got rid of the medieval arms and armor, donning instead naught but an Astros cap and a pair of brass knuckles. He was now ready. But... was the world?

He burst forth from the maternity ward with a fiendish cry of, "Laydeez, can I fist you?!"

And that's when he saw her. She had hips like Cinderella, wore a nun's habit made of rubber, and her smile alone would have made the hordes of Genghis Khan halt in mid-gallop, jump from their horses and throw themselves to the ground. "My name is Al," she said, "and I eat n00bs like you for breakfast." Rudie knew, he had found the one true love of this life.