• Hey Guest! Ever feel like entering a Game Jam, but the time limit is always too much pressure? We get it... You lead a hectic life and dedicating 3 whole days to make a game just doesn't work for you! So, why not enter the GMC SLOW JAM? Take your time! Kick back and make your game over 4 months! Interested? Then just click here!

The best stories!

S

SyntheticStorm9

Guest
Feel free to post your own stories.
here are some of mine.

"Mr. President, the sun is a exploding, Mr. President, what do we do?" "We call... Yoda, well don't just sit there, hand me the phone! ding, ding, ding, "coming I am, so loud the phone is." BOOM!!! "Exploded, the phone is.". "Soldier!! Why isn't he answering the phone!" "Well maybe he's... sleeping?" "Darn, now the worlds gonna melt." "Mr. President, What do we do?" "We call... Bob." Bloop, Bloop, Bung, "Hello?" "Yes." "Is this Bob?" "Yes." "We need your help, the sun, is exploding. What do we do?" "Well first ah you hafta shoot a dirty underwear into it then, you have to give me a thousand bucks." "Soldier! send someone to bobs house to give him a thousand bucks from the royal treasury, and tie some of my dirty underpants to one of our atomic missiles, then fire it at the sun." "Yes sir! Mr. president!" 1 Hour later. "Mr. President the missile is armed and ready to fire." "Okay, ready, set, fire!" and then all of the sudden Yoda barges in and stops the missile from firing by using the force "fire the missile do not.'' and Yoda stuck his hand at the sun and said "Don't explode" and the sun turned back to normal, and everyone except Bob lived happily ever after.

Dear Grandpa,

Ah! Geoffrey! I remember that old chap, quite an adventure we had together, with the squiggles and the dolly mangles, eh, horrible, nasty little critters. Oh! I haven’t told you that tale by any chance have I? No? Good! you won't hear a finer yarn in all of England. It all started on a dark and rainy day, "Oh, Bob, you left the lab unlocked, I hope the invention wasn't stolen it is still unstable!" "I didn't leave it unlocked I locked it!" "By the queens staff! Its gone! Call the police bob!" "we have lost all power to the building! we're to late." "help me!" a raspy voice cried from the shadows "hello?" said Geoffrey "help me!" the raspy voice said again. Bob entered the shadows and came out a minute later with a old man clinging to his arm like a cat that you are about to give a bath. "beware the walking snakes Beware..." he said as he slipped into unconsciousness "the walking snakes?" said bob "then the storm is already upon us." he said as a creature with emerald green eyes watched them from the raftors. "quickly grab the holographic light inducer and the prototype crystall boring tool! We have to get up to the study!" Geoffrey said as he hoisted the collapsed old man on the floor onto his back. As they were running up the stairs to Geoffrey's study they heard gunfire in the distance. "that confirms it, I fear we may be to late" "to late?" said bob as he shut the study door. "yes, search every inch of this room." he said as he gently placed the old man on t...


I looked up from reading my grandsons letter to a hiss and green eyes looking at me from a snakelike creature with legssticking to the wall. A gnarled, wrinkled and unclipped hand came from around the door frame into the room and grabbbed the creature by the neck and dragged it out the doorway as the creature was clawing at the wall and doorframe as it was pulled out of the room by the gnarled hand


That legendary day, that beautiful, carefree, restfull, serene and luxurious day, the day, my room cleaned, itself. I have been dreading cleaning day since the day after the last cleaning day. Cleaning my room was not pleasant, first there was the molding pizza boxes in the corners, then the dirty clothes all over the floor, then the bedding on the bed in the middle of the right wall, and the most dreaded of chores the floor. It looked like someone threw up on it and then did a very bad attempt to mop it up and then walked all over it with socks that had been soaked in sweat at one point. I was walking down the hallway headed to the living room at the back of the house when I saw a light under the door to my room flicker on with an electric click, I opened the door and saw a mouth open up in the wall and swallow up all the disgusting pizza boxes and disappear. If it weren't for the fact that it just got rid of the things that I have been dreading touching for 364 days I would be running to the phone to get the police. It reappeared below my bed in the right of the room and started steamrolling my sheets, sucking them off the bed and then propelling them back up the other side to land neatly atop the bed. It then began circling the room as its protruding tongue was dragged all over the disgusting floor, licking up every last bit of the grime, then formed a tornado like sucking motion in the middle of the room sucking up all the clothes. Once it got them all it went into the closet that is on the opposite side of the room and made cracking noises. After some time I walked over to the closet and and opened it, but there was nothing to be found but a neat pile of pants and some wrinkle free pristine shirts hanging from the rack protruding from the ceiling.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
R

roytheshort

Guest
This isn't a funny story, it's a tragic story. It's about how the former President gave into the hallucinations and shut out the real world, fragments still appeared, memories scattered in the wrong places, but most of it was gone.
 
R

roytheshort

Guest
Wait, is this a letter or a story? You changed it halfway in the middle of the letter and then when he stopped reading the letter changed it from first person to third person. What's going on?
 
S

SyntheticStorm9

Guest
Wait, is this a letter or a story? You changed it halfway in the middle of the letter and then when he stopped reading the letter changed it from first person to third person. What's going on?
Someone reading the letter.
 

Ninety

Member
Wait, is this a letter or a story? You changed it halfway in the middle of the letter and then when he stopped reading the letter changed it from first person to third person. What's going on?
Experimental postmodernism. Looks like we have a new Joyce on our hands
 
Top