Writing Exercise: One Page, No BS
"No BS" in this case stands for "no backspace" and means that once the piece of writing is started it must be continued in some shape or fashion. Also anything written is permanent except for word substitutions and grammar corrections. It must be a page.
It does not have to be good or make any sense at all.
Jason glanced into the mirror and was somewhat horrified to see what he thought was a playful, cocky expression looked completely ridiculous on his narrow face-like he had bad gas and something in his left eye. He tried to think back to how many times he’d used it that evening and assess the collateral damage to his game.
1) Giving his ID to the Doorman. He first copped the look when the bouncer held the ID up to do a side by side comparison. There may have been finger guns as well. This could have been bad if he were gay and into fifty year old bikers.
2) Ordering his usual from the bartender. She didn’t even bat an eye, and she was a bartender-technically off limits as a matter of professional courtesy.
3) On the dance floor in the direction of three hot chicks. Ouch.
4) BAM CRASH!!! AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Just then a bunch of aliens burst in the room and killed him. They had been disguised as hot women but on their home world disingenuous facial expressions are tantamount to a mortal insult.
“Thank V’rall’a that horrible man is dead, Kl’Laktar,” the alien who looked like a hot light skinned black chick with an afro said.
The hot Asian one in the miniskirt looked frantically at all the blood in the restroom, “Uh-Oh... We shouldn’t have done this. We’re going to be in big trouble!”
The hot blonde chick alien was re-holstering her laser weapon which looked like a tube of hooker pink lipstick. “We’ll be fine, Mog’Rarlu. Let’s just find some blow so we can complete our mission and return to Traxia.”
“Hail Traxia!” the other two said.
“Oh look,” Mog’Rarlu exclaimed, “That horrible man must have been a drug dealer. He’s got tons of cocaine!!”
“Hooray!!!” The aliens cheered as they looted his body.
When they finally teleported back to Traxia the cocaine was enshrined in the temple of V’rall’a where it ruled justly for a thousand years.
Back on Earth there was a funeral for Jason-it turns out he had a son who would never know who his father was. Also his mother who had been sick, died of grief. Those who were left struggled on with their shattered lives and were forgotten by history.
The End.
It does not have to be good or make any sense at all.
Jason glanced into the mirror and was somewhat horrified to see what he thought was a playful, cocky expression looked completely ridiculous on his narrow face-like he had bad gas and something in his left eye. He tried to think back to how many times he’d used it that evening and assess the collateral damage to his game.
1) Giving his ID to the Doorman. He first copped the look when the bouncer held the ID up to do a side by side comparison. There may have been finger guns as well. This could have been bad if he were gay and into fifty year old bikers.
2) Ordering his usual from the bartender. She didn’t even bat an eye, and she was a bartender-technically off limits as a matter of professional courtesy.
3) On the dance floor in the direction of three hot chicks. Ouch.
4) BAM CRASH!!! AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Just then a bunch of aliens burst in the room and killed him. They had been disguised as hot women but on their home world disingenuous facial expressions are tantamount to a mortal insult.
“Thank V’rall’a that horrible man is dead, Kl’Laktar,” the alien who looked like a hot light skinned black chick with an afro said.
The hot Asian one in the miniskirt looked frantically at all the blood in the restroom, “Uh-Oh... We shouldn’t have done this. We’re going to be in big trouble!”
The hot blonde chick alien was re-holstering her laser weapon which looked like a tube of hooker pink lipstick. “We’ll be fine, Mog’Rarlu. Let’s just find some blow so we can complete our mission and return to Traxia.”
“Hail Traxia!” the other two said.
“Oh look,” Mog’Rarlu exclaimed, “That horrible man must have been a drug dealer. He’s got tons of cocaine!!”
“Hooray!!!” The aliens cheered as they looted his body.
When they finally teleported back to Traxia the cocaine was enshrined in the temple of V’rall’a where it ruled justly for a thousand years.
Back on Earth there was a funeral for Jason-it turns out he had a son who would never know who his father was. Also his mother who had been sick, died of grief. Those who were left struggled on with their shattered lives and were forgotten by history.
The End.