Freestyle/Fudged up Topic!

A set of the weirdest sentences I could make!

I started writing, combining many languages (all I know, German, French, English, Romanian) and called it Freestyle Writing. It's a thing that, actually, has some potential. I wrote a poem and there's many things you can do. French and German combined sound fantastic! Different phrases formed in Freestyle can define a character's personality. A movie in Freestyle could be glorious fun, and subtitles could be in any language, since the primary language is kinda hieroglyphs to everybody, but sounds nice! It also brings the aspect of foreignness, which is pretty cool!

Also, I recently wrote in another weird style (Weird, WEIRD writing) which was playing with the topic and changed words. So, this is Freestyle combined with seriously fudged up topic! Enjoy and may Google be merciful when helping you understand this! At request, you could ask me what one sentence means and I will guide you through every single detail, just write it down in the comments section!

Gehn'ich Weld in col-Stuck-lecten Fire for. Have-now-be, Mark, ecout-und Vat-dein-er.

Haven lang wir searchen, re-kein mais-sult.

Und freaca die Maimutzen menta, und lassen die Bananen sad sein.

Je suis dans ein Papier. Look'ich dann am sol und seh-ich deux lignees: suis-j'un stickman.

Crois-je l'il j'ai killed.

Crois'j'il est mort.

Einingstens Geld kann'ich t'offre: hier.

Crois j'ich bin weird, ai-je d'amis pur ce confirm.

Et so pouvais le genial savant ce box hiden.

Mais peux-je ne pas write quand hor'ich voices.

So then.. hat anyone verstanden was ich gesagt hab'?

Pick j'up mein Sword und stab s'ich.

Pern'open ich stabbing, find ich le treasure!

Risen die Soldaten das Flag of Hate, angry'st le Konig.

Protect carpet pricy one with cheap.

Ai-j'il, control j'il, est-il mein.

K'inghope c'u'll read, write ce Ko.

Aime'ich l'album das dieser genial artist, Blank Banshee, die hat Vaportrap inventen, qui j'adore, weil es ist hip hop avec de electronic und plunderphonics mit instrumental: genial!

Sehr mag'ich tein Cup!

Danc'ich shame-kein ball-dans-Zimmer.

Lookn m'at Menschen, bin'ich-und embarassed.

Fight-ich l'embarassement, cont-ich, und-inue dance.

Known wir nicht de c'action criminal... hab'ich nicht de clues enough... Ah, ist-ce case most frustrantement!

Ah, Michelangelo, ist t'arte genial, war-mais-rum le nudity?!

Drinkn, Pirats, gehn-wir denn tre-hunt-asure-ing!

You can now comment!

I had the setting off; well that was stupid.

COMMENTS EVERYBODY!!

Three Dice

Three dice. On a table. Seeking a destiny. A purpose. Something... legendary. Something different from being used as dice for Monopoly, when every time one of them would sit out, alone, being the third, and cry in silence. The dice need unity and a greater purpose.

So what can they do? Where cab they start? Well, first off, they have to jump off the table. Which means unbearable pain. Of course they can make it and nothing will happen to them, but it is the most painful thing for a die to fall. It is a sacrifice needed to make.

So the three dice jump, and scatter all across kitchen floor. One of the dice falls inside a basket, another falls under a chair, and finally, the last one rolls through the floor, and finally hits the trash can.

The die in the basket looks around, and sees a garlic clove. It gets close to the die and says: “Oh, how long has it been since I got to see another fellow!”. Its breath stinks and spreads all around the basket. “Forgive me”, says the die, “but I must go. It has been nice meeting you, but my destiny is for something greater. Also, need I meet my brothers I so dearly love.”. “What is this?”, replies the clove of garlic. “Oh, you thought you had a choice, didn't you? No, you're not leaving me alone here! I will not let you!”. The die looks at the clove and thinks. “Then, why don't you join us in this adventure through the unknown?”, suggests the die. “As much as I would like to, I too have fellow brothers I care for and need I not abandon them”. “Well,” says the die, “where are they?”. The clove stares at the die. “Oh, for how long did I not accept the harsh, harsh truth... Yes, indeed, they are not here anymore... The master made garlic sauce... It was a horrid thing but thought I if I forget such event or think of the possibility of another head of garlic broken into cloves for sauce I might still... believe in their existence. It is time to face reality and head for a greater destiny than a miserable life in an empty basket, waiting to be eaten away by some insect or rat or turned into garlic sauce...”

And so the garlic clove joins the die, both in the spirit of adventure. “Where are my brothers?”, the die thinks.

Under the chair, the second die looks around. It still feels pain, but is slowly recovering, as in the distance he sees a pencil sharpener. The pencil sharpener cries.

“What is the matter?”, asks the die. “Oh, for how long have I been forgotten under this stupid chair. Nobody wants me and I do not know what to do... I cannot move as I am full of pencil shavings... “. “Well, let me help! I am lost as I landed under this chair and I have been separated from my brothers by fate.”, it says as it opens up the pencil sharpener and frees it of its weight. “Oh, thank you so dearly much! But, after the way people treated me, I wish not assist them in any more of their drawings. The children have grown and do not draw any magical dragons or beautiful flowers for me to see their sweet innocent childish part; now they do homework and essays I cannot even comprehend and don't care about me, the one I watched them fully grow up, and abandon me under this stupid chair! I wish to join you in your marvellous adventure of curiosity, searching for the best, hoping for fate to offer you more than the boring life of objects!”

The die and pencil sharpener leave in search for the other dies. From behind a deep mumble can be heard: “I am not stupid...”, says the chair.

Near the trash can is the third die. The one that rolled all across the large kitchen at high speed then hit a trash can. It is most in pain and starts to scream.

“Oh, shut up!”, says something from the trash can.

“Who are you?”, the die asks.

Out of the trash can come out orange skin pieces. It's a horrible view, but the die is polite and says “I am sorry to see you in such shape”, to which the orange replies “It's ok. I am one of the ones not eaten as a whole, like garlic. But our fate is worse than theirs, as we are let to rot in the trash bag. You either die here or you die in the dump. Us organic objects suffer way more than any of you.”. “I feel bad to hear such horrible things you need to go through”, the die says. “Maybe I can help. Me and my two brothers are letting fate decide where we shall be taken, following no road, looking for a greater purpose. Do you wish to join us?”. “What you talk about intrigues me, but I have to lose more than a nine tenths of myself to join you, as only one piece of my skin can come along. However, I am willing to sacrifice a tenth of myself, so that I can leave this trash can once and for all. In my dreams will I see through my other tenths the horrible dump and feel rotting, but this piece shall live along these three noble and adventurous dice, following them in the riskiest of adventures! I might have little life left in myself, but I wish to use it to the max!”.

And so, after 5 minutes, the dice meet, together with the clove of garlic, pencil sharpener, and orange piece. And so they leave the kitchen, their eyes (which do not exist, they are invisible, surreal objects which define the object's field of vision) shining with hope.

Do you want a series of this? It's real fun to make, and if I see you guys like it I will make sure to continue!

NEWS NEWS: I am stupid

I realised I wish not limit myself while writing! I just write! Some might connect to the Whackyverse, some might not! No themes, as then I would not want to continue them, as it is annoying to be limited.

Anyways, new text coming real soon! In less than an hour kind of soon!

NEWS: New Approach

I will be taking a new approach on the blog:

I will create more short stories, each around a theme. Most themes will be around the Whackyverse, though there will be a few other ones. I am jumping into the world of short fiction blindedly, currently unknown to me, so I need to get more into it and start reading some, which is a hard task, considering how busy I am and the thing I need to do when I am 'free'. Currently, I am having an important exam this year, so this is one of those years...

During school breaks I will be writing more weird fables like The Tissue, over this school week. See you next weekend!

Weird, WEIRD writing

I tried out this SUPER weird style of writing. Who knows if I'm gonna continue writing stuff like this occasionally?

Hope Ko Lu like! <3

Legend:

K(o)-I, We, Me, Us.

L(u)-You.

M(e)-He, Him.

N(e)-She, Her.

J(u)-It, in general (not used for objects).

sol-And.

los-But.

Y-Why.

Ere-Where.

Oo-Who (same with other 'wh' questions)

Ot-Not.

ing[VERB]-[VERB]ing.

K'inghope Ne come, stay K'ingwatch television. Get bed K'ingwalk fridge toward out, get sol Ko butter out. Throw floor K'ingcry butter on. Be y here N'ot?! Rip shirt K'ingscream, step butter K'ing-slight-slip on. Fall K'ing-desperate-cry. Hear Ne K'ing-on-floor-be N'ing-door-unlock. Happy Ko be. Hug Ne Ko prepare. Shock Ko be in. Find Ko neighbor upset, M'ing-Ko-tell behave. Be naked sol embarassed Ko. Go bedroom bed Ko in. Sleep Ko.

Hear sound Ko. Late Ju be. Think Ko, come home Ne. Walk fridge toward K'ing-happy-be. See los thief Ko. Punch-desperate thief Ko. Be ground Ko M'ingleave on. Be knocked Ko out. Fall asleep Ko.

Walk Ko up, see los Ko N'ot, be los Ko sad. Have money K'ot, have Ko-N'ot, have nothing Ko. Shoot Ko Ko. Die Ko Ko. Say bye Lu Ko...

Fable - The Tissue

The people of the tribe in the come around the log, for the leader to tell them a story. They all sit on hot steaming iron, under which is a great fire. The shaman gets on the log, while everybody is sweating, and tells the story:

There once was a man, wearing dark clothes and dark robe, his face covered in black cloth. He went to a man of the tribe. He was wearing white clothes and washing a tissue in the river, getting rid of the black dirt on it. The dark clothed man kept watching the man, until he turned around, looking at the dark man, smiling, and said “Hello, my friend. What took you so long?”, and hugged him, accepting his fate. The dark man then stabbed the pure man. The pure man felt a short, painless death, with a smile on his face, a cold metallic blade piercing through his heart. He fell to the ground. The dark man then hid the pure dead body in a bush, and washed away the blood with the tissue, which he then washed and placed at the river's shore.

Many weeks later, a man stood by the river, fishing. And blood came pouring through, and blood told him of the dark man's crime. And the man told the tribe, and the dark man was killed. The fisherman then looked at what the dark man was carrying, and found a white tissue, filled with blood.

Cycle of Life

A car. A blue car. On a grey street. The street is empty. Nothing surrounds the street, but pitch black darkness. The street is blank, just a long curvy line going into a spaghetti of cement into the void. And inside the car is water. Dark blue water, with shades of dark green, seaweed. Salty water. The car's seats have sand and little rocks on them. In the water are some fish. Little fish. As little as a finger. And jellyfish. Small jellyfish. The size of a hand jellyfish. Swimming, near the swimming fish. The fish and jellyfish live in harmony.

The road goes straight, after going through the spaghetti route, and keeps going. But, suddenly, something different from the blue car with dark blue water with shades of dark green and sand and little rocks and fish and jellyfish, the void and the blank grey road can be seen: a traffic light. Red. A red traffic light. The car stops at the traffic light. Slowly. And then, chaos begins: the jellyfish and the fish are hungry. The fish eat seaweed, but the jellyfish do not have anything to eat... but the fish.

The attack starts: one jellyfish from the dark blue water with fewer shades of dark green heads for a fish consuming seaweed, then eats it. The fish start to spread out in the blue car, but they have no escape. The size of a hand jellyfish consume the little as a finger fish. The water in the blue car is of a dark blue with shades of dark red, blood.

The traffic light turns green and the blue car with the size of a hand jellyfish in the dark blue water with shades of dark red continues to go on the spaghetti blank grey road in the pitch black void. But, far away, from the void, appears a shark. A giant shark. The size of a zeppelin. Heading for the blue car on the grey street. It opens its mouth and consumes a part of the grey road. The spaghetti blank grey road now has a gap, in the shape of a mouth. There is no more blue car, no more dark blue water with shades of dark red, no more the size of a hand jellyfish. And the size of a zeppelin shark leaves into the darkness of the void...

Dr Burrow's Hidden Box

I did this because I was made to write a text with a given sentence in the body for an English contest. But the text felt so short (I had written 200, the limit being 140), I decided to make it bigger! I don't think I am making a Part 2 of this by the way

Hope you enjoy!

Long have they been searching for Dr Burrow's buried item, but never did they own the right equipment. The party was almost jumping to the conclusion that there was no possible way to hide an object so deep inside the cave's walls.

The person reading this might be wondering what this is all about and thinks to itself I might clear out its questions. Well, on the 22^nd December the year before, the rich, solitary, and brilliant scientist Dr Burrow passed away of old age. And in his will was found an enigmatic riddle, a beautiful subtle combination between literature and science: truly a work of art. The poem presented very exact geographical characteristics of the area in which Dr Burrow's son, Timothy's heritage was buried. The news about this mystery was first announced in the local newspaper Gallon, but soon gained massive amounts of interest all throughout the United States.

Timothy soon received aid from a group of scientists from the National Scientific Research Insitution of America. They decided to help, hoping that Dr Burrow's enigmatic “buried secret” all throughout important American newspapers and magazines would consist of more valuable sicentifc discoveries made by the famous wealthy scientist.

But, as previously mentioned in the beginning of this text, unfortunately the little party did not own the corresponding equipment. Their months of dedication on the riddle lead to Green Cave, known after its rare species of moss abundantly spread all across its rocky walls. The cave itself wasn't too big, but no matter how deep they have dug into Green Cave's walls, they discovered nothing. It was unbelievable how anybody could hide an object so deep inside the cave, yet still no sign of digging was left behind, anywhere. People began thinking the group of scientists have found the wrong place, or that there was no buried inheritance. Second hand newspapers started gossip, suspecting Dr Burrow's mental health getting worse by his life's end, or accusing him of memory loss and deliriously mentioning an inexistant heritage. But the search party knew there was no other place that had the same distinct properties as Green Cave, most mentioned in the scientist's poem and didn't dare suspect his mental health. Other scientists believed the same. Could it be that Dr Burrow had discovered something incredible, something only thought of as pure myths? It could be, given by his high level of intellect. Newspapers spread rumors, from teleportation to a whole new scientific branch, an entire field of exploration discovered by the genius science man.

But now, the government has decided to help with the search by sending in their latest invention, a contraption of millions, the most performant digging machine. It took years to make and was designed by the brightest of minds.

The machine was triumphantly marching towards the wealthy scientist's native town, near which sits his enormous mansion. It was driven by six people slowly dragging across the heavy contraption.

By the time the machine arrived, the party had already found out its arrival. It was the size and weight of a tank. As it was imposingly being dragged on the hill, Timothy and the scientists were gazing upon the enormous contraption. Luckily enough, the cave was wide and tall enough for the machine to fit into. But the veichle's usage was limited by the government, which couldn't allow digging in too deep and risking the cave to collapse and destroy the expensive device. But its boundaries were still significantly larger than the scientists' reach.

The had been digging, slowly and safely, for more than a week, and the party was starting to lose hope. But, one day, after 9 days of digging, in a moment least expected, at the crack of dawn, the machine reached something and a loud metallic noise echoed throughout the cave, Timothy looked in shock and, as the machine was going backwards, he went to see what it was the machine had found: it was a small metal box. The scientists were looking in disbelief of Dr Burrow's achievement, and looked at his son opening the box and looking back at them disappointed: inside the box were a key, and a riddle attached to it.

The search was not yet finished, and seemed to take longer than anticipated...

The Adventures of a Chair, Chapter II

The Adventures of a Chair

Chapter II

Diving in Soda

The chair sits. In darkness. Nothing surrounds the chair, but the pure pitch black void... But teacups start dancing around the chair, holding hands. All the teacups have inside is sugar. The dance, then grab sugar from inside them and throw it on the ground. The keep doing that until the black floor is covered in sugar and the teacups have nothing left. They smile as they slowly melt on the floor into more sugar. The sugar crawls on the ground, as it makes sandy noises, heading into one spot, creating a long cylindrical tube of sugar. It then starts to take shape into one larger teacup. It reaches the height of the fridge. It slowly walks around the chair, with its hands on the chair's back all the time, chanting something otherworldly... so mysterious, enigmatic, with a deep masculine voice... It then slowly moves the chair through the void. It keeps chanting. In front of the chair, from the void, a white crack slowly forms, and slowly opens... The light is blinding and the chair has to close its eyes for some time. Finally, it opens them and sees vast amounts of vegetation similar to one of a jungle's. The sky is of a strong light blue. Where the crack seems to have been is a mountain. Together with the crack disappeared the teacup... Where was the chair? What was happening?

The chair decides to walk around, see if it can find anything. But, out of nowhere, something in the shape of a bulb, attached to a long vine climbs down on the chair (the chair's eyes are on its seat back). It can see the bulb being torn down, and from the inside a green monkey-like creature being reavealed. It screams. The chair would scream, but it can't, but the monkey can feel the chair screaming. Then the monkey calms down. It can feel the chair relaxing too. The monkey stares where the chair's eyes should be and the chair stairs back. The chair focuses its mind on the monkey and pushes it off the chair. The monkey falls to the ground with an 'oof' then gets back up on the chair. It starts sniffing the chair everywhere. Its breath stinks so bad the chair would throw up. But the chair can't throw up, nor can it eat. So the monkey keeps sniffing. Then it starts making sounds. What is it doing? Is it alerting its comrades? Is it threatening the chair? Is it befriending the chair? How on earth can the chair know? But whatever is happening, it seems best for the chair to run. If it's in danger, running seems ideal, if it's not, running won't do anything bad.

So the chair runs. Then trips over a vine. And sits. It can't get up and can feel the monkey sitting near itself. It picks it up by its seat back and starts dragging it through the jungle-like biome. What could the chair do about that? It's a chair. It has the strength of a chair. That almost equivalents to 0. The monkey has arms, muscles.. The chair can't protect itself. Usually, the chair only sits around other living chairs and then normal objects. Nothing else alive but those of its... blood? The chair has no blood. It has wood. But not all chairs are of the same wood. The same... species? Species seems appropriate.

The chair keeps being dragged, being moved up and down at every vine on the ground. It is starting to hurt so it decides to close its eyes and hope to fall asleep.

The chair wakes up. It looks around itself. It is in a tribe from the jungle, from the looks of it. But, it just seems empty.. No sound can be heard, but the slow breeze of wind, no movement can be seen, from anywhere. But the chair was tied to the ground with rope. But, suddenly, from the trees, bulbs come down and crack open. Monkeys come out and circle the chair. They each grab a stick and... every one stabs the one to their right. Everybody killed each other. They fall to the ground, and the chair can smell rotting. But, in what seems like 5 minutes, their meat slowly compresses. Each monkey's corpse compresses into a different spot. And slowly the corpse turns white. And all of the corpses turn into 15cm diameter marble balls. Then they all crumble into a very fine sandy texture: sugar. Then they each form into a different pillar, then slowly melt on the ground, then form back again into... teacups. 5 teacups stand in front of it, then another 4 jump on the 5, then 3 jump on the 4, then 2 on the 3, then 1 on the 2, forming a 15 teacup pyramid. Then they all jump, simultaneously, hitting the ground hard. They change into one large teacup in front of the chair's eyes: the one large teacup from beforehand. It goes up to the chair and rolls and flips upside down. The chair is in the teacup. Darkness surrounds it. It can feel its bondage disappearing. It is in the void again. What was happening? Whatever was happening, it had to do with the teacup. And it knew it had to stop it.

The same thing as last time happens: teacups surround it, they get crushed, take shape of a bigger teacup and drag the chair to a crack in the void. It opens it eyes...

The chair is now in what looks like a normal small apartment precisely a bedroom. But, to its surprise, inside the bed is a living peace of flesh covered with pink skin in the shape of a humanoid, covered by a white thick blanket, with long black hair: a... human? But how could this be possible? The chair lived in the Object World.. it could not be! How is it... back?!

The Adventures of a Chair, Chapter I

The Adventures of a Chair

Chapter I

The War between the Kingdom of the Chair and the Kingdom of the Egg

The chair sits. How does a chair sit? A chair sits on a chair. Specifically, its chair. More specifically, itself. The chair sits, when it does not move.

The chair looks at the clock made of stone. It indicates where its soldier is. It is called a clock, because its hands indicate the soldier's coordinates in the 180x180 sqaures two-dimensional map. The chair can see its movement, slowly, towards north, heading for the fort.

Each square of the map indicates 10 meters. The chair can see its soldier move from X=38 and Y=56 to X=39 Y=66, to the entrance of the fort. The big hand slowly moves its way through 56 to 66, moving around the first third of the clock. Halfway there, at round-about Y=63, the small hand moves to 39. Finally, the big hand reaches 66. The soldier has arrived at the fort, like the chair ordered him. He is now safe from the invaders. The soldier is in the chair's kingdom. The enemy kingdom is ruled by an egg from a far, far place from the world.

The chair now looks at the wooden clock. That one indicates time in this section of the world: It is 'hog'. Time here ranges from wog to tog: wog, nog, fog, log, mog, sog, rog, solomin, kog, hog, jog, saog, paog, laog, tog. These are the 15 hours of the world. 'Hog' in theory translates to 'between 4:00 and 5:35 PM'. But, in this part of the Object World, a day is divided in two days and two nights, all equally divided: firstly comes the day, with wog, nog, fog and 3 thirds of log, then comes the blue night, with a blue moon, 1 quarter log, mog, sog, rog, and half of solomin, then comes the other day, with the other half of solomin, kog, hog, jog, and a quarter of saog, then comes the red night, with the red moon, with the remaining three quarter of saog, paog, laog, and, finally, tog. So, in reality, for our world, it is between 8:00 and 11:10 PM. The wooden clock has only one hand, which moves to the other hour each time the one before ends.

The chair needs to go to work when jog starts. But, for now, it needs to send orders in its kingdom. It slowly moves towards the staircase, then takes a turn to the left. This room is dimly lit by a low-power light bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling. The room has one large window , covered by thick curtains, and one large square table in the center. The table is separated vertically and horizontally by 179 lines, creating a 180x180 grid. On it can be seen very tiny grass, two forts, forests and some wild animals. The chiar moves towards one of the forts and sees soldiers all ready for battle. The chair concentrates its mind on the grid and sends out a group of hunters in search for some boars to kill in the nearby forest. But, as they walk around the forest, they see people moving. Knowing there shouldn't be any of their fort's soldiers outside, they realise they are enemy soldiers. They get out their guns ad shout. The enemy soldiers put their hands up and the hunters get them to the fort. Then the chair witnesses a horrifying dreadful event. The King goes to the soldiers and cuts them in half. Then he roasts them in front of everybody, to show what happens to their enemies. Then everybody feasts, eating human flesh. The chair looks in complete shock at its army, then decides to send it full power towards the enemies. An attack is planned. He decides to track the king on the stone clock.

The chair returns to its place and watches the stone clock move its big hand from Y=68 to Y=66, then its small hand from X=39 to X=33, then the big hand from Y=66 to Y=70. Now, the king and his army have left the castle and are heading towards their enemies.

The wooden clock's arm moves, reaching for jog. The chair needs to go to work. It moves, slowly moving its legs on the floor, until it reaches the staircase. It turns around and falls on its back, dragging itself on the staircase. When it arrives upstairs, it turns back around and continues towards its bedroom. On the bedroom's floor sits its uniform. It falls on its back on it and then gets back up. The chair is now dressed. To climb down, the chair presses against the wall and slowly falls.

The chair gets out on the street, then falls on its back on the door, thus locking it. Only it can unlock it back. It could have used public transport, but It gets on roller skates and goes towards his work place.

The chair navigates the streets until it reaches a large, 17-floor office building. It enters the building, then the elevator. Inside sit many more chairs. The elevator is pretty big, specifically a 2.10mx3.36m rectangle. Chairs cannot talk, so the elevator slowly climbs each floor, stopping for 10 seconds, then takes 5 seconds to reach the second floor; when it reaches the top floor, it goes back down. There are two elevators in the building. When one is climbing down, the other one is climbing up. They meet each other every 4 minutes at floor 8.

In 50 seconds the elevator reaches the fourth floor: the chair's stop. It leaves the elevator and heads for its desk. It reaches and desk and sits. It starts connecting its mind to the computer and starts work. As it works, it looks to its right, where a little square wooden table sits. The chair connects its mind to the table and an 8x8 grid pops up. On it are a person with a crown and a bunch of soldiers: the army. The chair moves through the 180x180 map with the 8x8 view to see how far the army has gone. The battle is afoot.

The chair needs to go to the toilet. It slowly crawls towards the bathroom door, and leans back onto the lock to open it. The door is found surprisingly hard to open and then...

Soda starts pouring out like crazy, onto the chair and keeps flowing through the fourth floor of the 17-floor building. The soda is covering the chair entirely and its vision starts to slowly blur, as things turn brown. The soda keeps pouring and the chair cannot breath, nor move. Everything darkens in front of the chair's eyes and darkness starts surrounding it...

Thread Raider: Vlad

This is me lol

He looks down, at the bathtub. He feels upset, angry, nervous, agitated. He leans back and comes back in force, smashing his egg head into the metal bathtub. His vision blurs, as he looks down on his hands: egg yolk is dripping. He is scared and leaves the bathroom. He makes a turn to the right and shouts for his grandma. He can barely hear a word of what he says. His grandma comes to him, agitated and scared. She keeps shouting things with a worried face, but he cannot understand any word. Every noise just mutes itself, deafens. His vision starts to darken and he keeps losing balance. He falls to the ground but can barely feel it. He can only feel and itching pain where his head used to be. He feels being dragged and keeps hearing deafened sounds. He cannot see anything.

He wakes up to nothing. He touches his head. A white bandage surrounds him. He can hear no sounds, nor see anything. He can feel his grandma's hands on his arm, hugging him with her skinny wrinkly hands. Tears start dripping on his right arm. He tries to cry but only makes the insides of his bandage feel wet. He has terminated his chances for a normal life...

Thread Raider: Bear

Bear has recently decided to leave the Thread Raiders, due to business issues. We don't have any problems with it, and this text was written before this! <3

-Shall I offer you another cup of tea, sir? Asks the human butler slave.

The panda bear, wearing a black tophat, a fancy fake moustache and a monocle grunts.

-I'm sorry sir, but we cannot tolerate you speak in other languages than Bear English!

-Ohh, uhh... says the panda with a deep shattered voice... Yes.

-Alright.

The slave leaves, as the panda whispers something to another.
Agitating roars can be heard from a table in the center of the cafe. A grizzly is raging.

-Alright, alright!

The butler hurries to the grizzly and takes his order.

-And make it snappy! He says.

From a corner table, koalas can be heard calling the butler. It hurries to them, as they growl in an Australian accent:

-Oi, mate! We'll have some Eucalyptus tea, if ya please!

-I'm sorry, but we're out of Eucalyptus.

-WHAAAT?!

Screams come from all around the pub, as the koalas scratch the butler. He screams and runs, as all bears come towards him and scratch.

He lies dead on the floor. Everybody takes their seats in a gentle manner, licking their bloody paws. Another slave comes in to take their orders.

From a corner is watching a unicorn bear, terrified of the scenery. It slowly munches on a chocolate chip cookie, sipping some coffee...

Internet World

This is spam.

What is?

Spam?

Yes.

This.

What exactly?

Spam is a brand of canned cooked meat made by Hormel Foods Corporation. It was first introduced in 1937 and gained popularity worldwide after its use during World War II.

Are you sure that's what spam is?

That's what I found!

Well there may be more...

Oh, really? Prove it!

spam, verb=send the same message indiscriminately to (a large number of Internet users)”

Well this can't be it either!

Why not?

Well there is no large number of Internet users!

Are you sure about that?

Yes.

Oh reaaaaallly?

YES! There's only the two of us here!

Hey guys!

._.

Who is this?

It's... Henry!

Oh, hi, Henry!

who the heck is Henry?

Idk, act c00l.

You know, I can hear you guys!

Oh, right.... Sorry!! V_V

Is he like your neighbor?

Idk!!!

Omg ARE YOU ####### kidding me?!

Woah, dude.

No curse words!

Yeah, exactly.

You think we should ban him?

######!!!!

--Henry was kicked--

There ya go! We don't accept h8rs -_-

Yeah, we sure don't!

So, now that there were moooore people, was THAT spam?

"send the same message indiscriminately”

Oh right.

Oh right.

Oh right.

Oh right.

Oh right.

Please stop.

Why?

Why?

Why?

--P1 was kicked--

--P2 is too lonely--

---CONVERSATION ENDED---

The Fish

The fish was in the beer bottle, agitatingly knocking its head into its walls, desperately flipping around, at the bottom of the ocean.

The beer bottle was... happy. For once in his countless years of sitting alone, forgotten by society, it had company... It felt joy to see a living creature.

For many days has the fish been stuck in the beer bottle; it was the bottle's happiest time. But, one day, the fish stopped swimming... And silence settled in the depths of the ocean.... It starved to death...

The beer bottle was crushed, and has been crying raindrops ever since... which the ocean's fish started drinking, becoming stronger and stronger... And that is how the Beer Ocean appeared...

Tree People

Poem inspired by watching @Phreek10cent's stream! lol

Some people once lived in a tree.

They called themselves tree people.

They weren't elves, nor were they bees,

They were but simple people.

They loved trees so freaking much,

They wouldn't leave them ever,

They would apples, plums and bees,

And cleaned their butts with leaves.

But soon they grew.. and grew so many

That trees would sink in dirt,

But they had not noticed at first

And now the trees are IN dirt.

Their leaves died,

So did the trees,

And so did all the forest,

And all was the tree people's fault,

Who have been crying since.

A Drawn World

I aim by bow. It is made of very salty peanuts, so licking it would be awful. Not to mention how dirty it is. The arrow is of sharpened bread, crafted by the best baker blacksmith in town. I shoot.

-35! says a bald man with a very long sparkly purple party hat. Not bad, huh?

-Johnnie, I don't get this game, I say. What's the point of shooting if the number is random?

-I don't know, says Johnnie, scratching his beard. Show... entertainment? Someth' like that! People really like a good performance! Jacky can tell ya more.

-Where is he anyways? Back in that unicorn drawing of his daughter? Pathetic, the man can't let go of the past!

-Don't forget, he does pay you! says Johnnie.

-Yeah-yeah... But the show is tomorrow! The only thing we have prepared is that stupid random number machine!

-Hey, betting gives us a lot of money!

I humph and decide to head for Jacky. This drawing world is very weird... From all I've seen and all the drawing worlds I've spoken with, ours is the weirdest. You can draw something and make it part of it! We are ever-expanding and apparently live in a super server. Go figure..

Jacky turned his garage in his dead daughter's drawing. It's always unsettling to visit him, but I am in dire need of money and we paid a lot to hold the show. We need more.

I reach his house and notice the door open. I know the man is all alone, so I enter without hesitation. But to my surprise, a green cat is walking through the house.

I hide. Green cats are vicious thieves. People who joined the life of crime gain the ability to morph into one. Also, it's light green, which indicates it's dangerous.

I'm breathing heavily. Panicked, I pick up the table and scream. I can hear noises in the garage. The green cat looks at me and hisses. I throw the table at the cat. It morphs into its human form and dodges it. It gets out a sharp bread knife! I decide to run outside the house, the thief chasing me. I go to the nearest house, smash the door open and enter. Its inhabitants scream. I break a window and get out through the back of the house, and smash open another door of another house. Slowly, the entire neighborhood screams. What do I do now? I get in the middle of the street and wait. The thief runs to me, but suddenly pans started being thrown at him. He dies. Then at me. I start running and head to Jacky's.

-What the heck happened?! Says Jacky alarmed.

-A green cat. I started acting, running and alarmed the entire neighborhood. They killed the cat and now I'm wanted.

-What's wrong with you?!

-I... I don't know...

I don't... know... I don't know... I... don't know...

I fall on the ground unconscious. I feel like a million windows smash into my face. I feel sad, lonely, incapable. Everything turns black.

Where am I? Uhh.... I see Johnnie looking at me with a worried face.

-The entire neighborhood was murdered by our bull.. You're lucky to be alive.

-Johnnie, may I just say, this world makes no sense...

-And neither it should, he says.

I am in his house, up on a hill, far from civilisation. Johnnie goes and boils water for me. I decide to sleep...

My House

I present to you my house.

The Rusty Nail

It is holding a bench's back in the kitchen, but always dettaches itself on purpose. I believe it is of a demon's doing, when my house was insecure, and due to power outages, my demon protection wall broke. If I replace it, the rusty nail comes back. Again, and again, and again. And now the bench is immovable. Long have I tried to find a cure, but it will not work.

Dimension Painting

On the kitchen's wall is a painting, depicting a dark dungeon's cell, with moss on its rocky walls and a faint torch on the wall. The cell door is open and nobody is in the painting. This is my gateway to the Demon World. It leads to the ruins of a prison nobody comes to, being afraid of the false rumours spread throughout the Demon World. Nobody from there can come here, as it is a one-way travel. I am linked with my home so I can teleport here at will.

Demon Spoon

For the past 6 years I have been making travels to the Demon World through my Dimension Painting, seeking a demon I can oblige to obey me. I have found the strongest demon I can make obey and stuck it to a spoon. It is my only protection system when power is out.

Treasure Room

I get to the bathroom, at the towel hanger. I pull it, as it reveals orbs infused with magic in its iron bars. I draw a 6x6 grid on the washing machine and put each ball in the grid's lines' intersections. There are 35 orbs and the middle intersection has no ball. I stick my finger in it, which triggers a contraption which reveals an opening through a wall, leading to my precious items.

Disc Pet

Going to the living room I see a disc. And old vinyl, now 30cm thick, with tiny black legs. It is my Disc Pet, or familiar per se. I can see through its eyes and use it for scouting areas.

Rainbow Juice

It is a normal every day juice box, but with different color settings. Simply select one and the juice/water/liquid in the box will change colors. Nifty contraption for faking potions.

Castle of the Drawn World

On the wall from my hall is a calendar. In it is a castle. The calendar contains 13 drawn worlds, for all the 13 months. But I always have it set on Wizard month, because this world actually is able to exchange real resources. They can offer me a sword, I can store items in their castle. Although no living things can go into this drawn world.

Tentacle Scarves

Going in the guests' room, a huge cloth stand sits there, filled to the brim with scarves. The scarves have a hive mind and act as tentacles. They eats very little cotton every day. After my death, they will split in half, one half avenging me and killing the one responsible for it, whilst the other one will guard what's left of my house, ruling over all living things.

Illusion Window

Going to my bedroom, I approach my window wall. It reveals a busy traffic road. You can even hear it. Then it reveals a quiet forest, and the air is fresh. It is my illusion window and it is for daydreaming, confusing infiltrators, regular dreaming, inspiration and all sorts.

Bear Foot

Very few people possess this magical entity. It is a “gift”, as some call it, from birth. It is the bear foot.

According to The Lobster Wizards of the Human World's Guild's research, possessors of bear feet are chosen by the Bear Gods from the Divine World, apparently in order to show off their powers.

What are bear feet? Well, some people have a bear foot, very rarely two. Their foot is covered with fur, and has a mind of its own. It even has a face: the foot's toes are replaced with sharp teeth, and it even has angry black eyes and bear ears.

The person cannot wear shoes over its bear foot. Another consequence is a more aggressive personality. Also, the person needs to eat more, in order to sustain the bear foot's life. The bear foot may also have aggressive instincts, making so that everybody surrounding it is in danger.

The bear foot and the person are soul-bound; once either of them is dead, the other one dies.

Gary, whose right foot is a Grizzly, says: “It's a real struggle. Life's a burdain to me. To anybody that think having a bear foot is 'cool', they are more than mistaken. It's a misery, a mocking from the Bear Gods brought to us petty humans.”

There are no known cures of the bear foot, only myths who have been proven wrong by the LWHW.

Signed,

Chair, member of The Furniture of Research of the Human World's Guild

Remote Spirits and How They are Harmful

I am Wizard Zarathon, member of The Shrimp Wizards of The Human World's Guild. Recently, Vladimir Antofi, member of The Lobster Wizards of The Human World's Guild(LWHW), claims, on behalf of the guild, that remote spirits “ are not to fret, but cherish”, contrary of Wizard Palm's research 6 centuries ago. I am here to present arguments for his research.

The LWHW found out remote spirits produce energy inside the owner's soul once free, thus “livening up” his life. But they belive that is in inoffensive, even beneficial. Although this has two big problems:

Firstly, electricity greatly affects the owner's life. We noticed shifts in personality and intersoular relations loosen up. The surrounding souls tend to reject the electrified one. Victims of remote spirits are what we call “mentally ill”.

We have found out that people who suffered from depression are very sensitive to increased soul power, thus experiencing huge reduction of soul energy, and by that decreasing soul power. The remote spirit consumes what it can from the victim, until it leaves the body. We found that out by using depressive cards on animals and by examining depressive indivuals who are also victims of the terrible remote spirits.

In conclusion, remote spirits are not friends, but enemies.

Train Raiding Cactus

Words: cactus, train, treasure

Once there lived a cactus, in the hottest of deserts. Although he was in the Human World, no human would ever visit him. He was all alone and even for cactuses, the heat is unbearable.

This cactus had a dream: of treasure! He always dreamed of being a pirate, scavaging ships filled with treasure, feeling the breeze of the sea! But not just any pirate: a captain! He would have control over his beloved ship!

But then he would wake up and remember his place in this world. What could he do? But wait! Trying to stretch outside his place on the ground, he comes out and falls face flat on the ground. He felt movement under his body... feet? Could it be real? His other two “heads” start moving... arms! Oh, how wonderful! This creature took shape of a humanoid by simply dreaming! But now, it was time to raid for treasure!

Long did the cactus travel along the desert, and finally it saw something else than the arid sand: a train track. Which signaled but his chance of treasure! Waiting for a train to come, days after days, he finally heard the distinct sound of a whistling train, and felt its movement in the ground. He got up, and prepared to jump. When the train reached him, he jumps and sticks to the train's wall. He got into the train. Nobody's inside, except for the man running the train.

He started looking for things to raid, but found nothing but wood. Which was really boring. But in the train's last compartment, the cactus found something amazing, that he would've never thought he'd find: GOLD!! And lots of it! He took a box he found and filled it with golden coins. Now the cactus had to wait for the train to arrive at a station, and make a run for it with the gold!

But... the train never stopped... Nor did the desert... He goes to see the man running the train, but where he thought he'd be a big dark red was waiting. It was a demon, with large dark grey horns. He runned towards the cactus, which was frozen in place. Never did the cactus feel more scared. Then the demon....

C. The cactus is not in the Human World

The demon looked at him and says: “What is a cactus like you doing outside our garden?”

The cactus was confused. What in the world??? The demon's garden?

“Mistress won't be very happy now, would she?”

The cactus, with a low, shaky voice, asked “What... garden...?”

“Well, don't you know? You, cactus, are in the Demon World. You used to be a pirate captain in the Human World and now my Mistress has taken possession of your soul. You are but a cactus soldier of her army. Now get back into the sand! We need you to grow bigger!”

The cactus jumped out of the train, sad... He found more about himself, but what he found out was horrible... He had a life, in the Human World, and it was taken away... Now he'd fight for the evil forces...

Or would he? Could he do something about this? Could he escape?

Geekspiel suggests awesome things.

To his surprise, he found an entrance to... sewers. He opened it and to his surprise a person came out. He was almost naked, but the clothes he was wearing were extremely dirty.

“*hiccup* now wassya doin' 'ere?”, he said.

“I am trapped in the Demon World, and don't know how to escape!”

The hobo drank from a bottle of what looked life Mad Dog 20/20. The bottle, now empty, magically filled up again.

“Now listen 'ere, punk! There ain't no escape in this foul world! Been 'ere ever since the 1800s and got no clue how to get out!”

The cactus stares at the tramp.

“You're THAT old???”, he said.

“There ain't no agin' in the Demon World! At least I think so...”

“Well, is there really no way out of here?”, he says, as he looks down into the sewers, where a barrel is burning. “And what the heck are you making fire in a desert?”

“Now, punk, there might be a way I know, but honestly, I don't remember..”, he said as he took another sip. “And ey, kid! Don't question my actions! Been 'ere for waay longer than you! This place gets real cold at night...”

“And do you think I haven't been here enough to be night?!”

“Not the actual night, ye dummy!”, he said. “The night's when the demons come and take the cactus idiots an' bring 'em into the army!”

“And when's that happening?!”, said the cactus alarmed.

“I don' know... ye think I count the days until y'all bastards go evil? Nah!”

What could the cactus do? He looked at the man, drinking and drinking. He didn't remember anything, but he could if he weren't drunk... But the drink always regenerated... Does he break it? What would happen next? Will the hobo jump at him? Wait, he's a spiky cactus! What could he be afraid of?

He took the tramp's drink and smashed it. He looked at the cactus, his eyes wide open, as if he was dying. His body breaks in half and from inside comes a white figure.

“Greetings, trapped human soul”, said an angellic masculine voice coming from withing the figure. “I am a gatekeeper, and can bring souls from a world to another at my will. But a foul demon fooled me with the sin of drinking. Now free, I can help you live your life again, to thank you from saving me!”

The gatkeeper raised his hands and the ground under the cactus suddenly vanished. He was being teleported!

The cactus found himself in a seaport. He was in the Human World! He could remember! All the dear memories of him and his crew, raiding ships for a living!

He stood by a ship, looking at the sun setting. His feet were in the water.

The perfect conditions have been met. The cactus breaks in half, revealing a person! He's back! He could now go meet his pirate friends! And so he did, and now he happily sails the ocean, looking for plunder!