Hi, I challenged myself to write the most ludicrous story I could, so here is the first part.
December 2, 2004 Hello there!
These are my memors. Or is it spelled memours? Well, whichever way that it’s spelled, this it what that is. I decided that another generation of mischievous masterminds could profit from my genius.
Yeah, my name’s Bardus. I think my dad said it had roots in Latin, but I haven’t investigated further. I’m a computer champ, spelling superstar, mathematical maestro, history…er…historian, and masterminded mastermind. (Yeah, so I can’t think of good alliterations. So what, huh?)
So yeah, this is my first entry. Read on to see some of my devious exploits.
December 21, 2004
Hey guys, I’m back with an awesome mullah-making scheme! I did a lot of thinking and investigating, and I’ve decided that I could be rolling in the green ones if I exited the rat race, got a brick, and knocked out all of the other rats. I call of this out-of-the-box thinking.
Other people call it crime.
Anyways, my idea is to market a book I wrote, The Adventures of Serlock ‘Olmes. People will think that it’s actually Sherlock Holmes, and buy it up like crazy. And Doyle’s dead, so he won’t be able to stop me! No one will! Haha!
December 22, 2004
I’ve finally finished my first story! This writing business is much more tedious then you think, people, but because I’m really good at this, I’ve come out with an awesome story!
You know, I should add ‘witty writer’ to my title, don’t you think?
Here it is:
The Story of Serlock ‘Olmes #1
Jelly Jones, a heavily mustachioed police chief, faced the five men standing before him. One, the one who was currently talking so fast that his second chin was vibrating, was gesticulating wildly with his bloody hands and pointing accusatorily at the other rat-faced chaps. The rat-faced chaps were, (quite transparently) denying everything with shocked faces.
“-and one of those darn stupid knaves just runned in and then he just grabbed my green ‘uns then he runned but lucky I woke up and I came and runned after him and he threw that rock at me and I got hurt but I kept running and he runned down my stairs and runned out the door and I tried to catch him but he just runned real quick and I couldn’t get him so I just gave you dudes a call and you got him and I have to say that was a real good catch ‘cause that guy runs real good.”
Jelly Jones acknowledged the compliment with a modest shrug, even though he had done nothing at all. In fact, he himself had been enjoying a good doughnut when his officers had tracked the thief down and arrested him and his cronies. Unfortunately, his nitwitted officers had confused the thief with his pals, and now they didn’t know who had committed the actual crime.
“He’s a big liar!” screamed a particularly evil looking guy. “I didn’t do nothing!”
“I bet you did,” another criminal muttered. “If you’re not a thief, then I’ll eat my own hat.”
The denials went on for several minutes until Jelly Jones banged the table furiously. Even though it hurt, police never showed pain in front of criminals, so he ignored it and shouted at the top of his lungs. Police always shout at the top of their lungs in front of criminals.
“I HAVE REACHED A DECISION!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. There, thankfully, was dead silence. Jelly Jones held up one finger as a signal to wait, and then selected a jelly doughnut from his respectable stash.
Mr. Double Chin scowled.
After Jelly had finished his doughnut, he shouted, (at the top of his lungs, of course) “I HAVE REACHED A DECISION!”
“Here comes the jelly doughnut,” muttered one of the criminals.
“MY DECISION—“ Double Chin threw a nervous glance at the window and relocated himself to the other side of the room “--IS THAT ALL OF YOU WILL SERVE TEN WEEKS IN JAIL!” Officers filed in and clapped handcuffs on the four criminals, while Jelly Jones found another doughnut and devoured it and Double Chin left the room, skipping out the door happily.
Outside the room, Jelly talked the matter over with his brother, Serlock ‘Olmes.
“Ya can’t just put all of ‘em into confinement!” yelped Serlock. “They’ll file a lawsuit or something!”
“Hey, how am I supposed to know which of ‘em did it? Huh?”
Serlock thought it over all through the night and all through the day, and, by reading Sherlock Holmes, came up with a solution.
At precisely six o’ clock in the evening, Serlock held four hairs in his hand, one from each criminal. The hairs had tape around them, with the criminals’ names on them.
“These hairs are magical hairs,” Serlock said, who was reading right out of a fat book entitled, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. “That unlucky one who is the true criminal will have his hair grow one centimeter overnight…and then we’ll see.”
There was a nervous stir among the criminals, and one long-nosed man seemed particularly unhappy. It seemed that most of them were superstitious.
The next day, the whole procession returned to the station. Originally all the hairs were the same length, and now one was exactly one inches shorter. HOW COULD THAT BE???
A man made a furious dash towards the lake, but was quickly surrounded by officers. He was shepherded towards the jail, and the others jumped and danced in glee, shouting profanities at the chagrined criminal.
Serlock was lauded a hero back at home, and a party was thrown in celebration.
What do you say? Amazing, no? I’ll make a fortune!
December 2, 2004
Hello there!
These are my memors. Or is it spelled memours? Well, whichever way that it’s spelled, this it what that is. I decided that another generation of mischievous masterminds could profit from my genius.
Yeah, my name’s Bardus. I think my dad said it had roots in Latin, but I haven’t investigated further. I’m a computer champ, spelling superstar, mathematical maestro, history…er…historian, and masterminded mastermind. (Yeah, so I can’t think of good alliterations. So what, huh?)
So yeah, this is my first entry. Read on to see some of my devious exploits.
December 21, 2004
Hey guys, I’m back with an awesome mullah-making scheme! I did a lot of thinking and investigating, and I’ve decided that I could be rolling in the green ones if I exited the rat race, got a brick, and knocked out all of the other rats. I call of this out-of-the-box thinking.
Other people call it crime.
Anyways, my idea is to market a book I wrote, The Adventures of Serlock ‘Olmes. People will think that it’s actually Sherlock Holmes, and buy it up like crazy. And Doyle’s dead, so he won’t be able to stop me! No one will! Haha!
December 22, 2004
I’ve finally finished my first story! This writing business is much more tedious then you think, people, but because I’m really good at this, I’ve come out with an awesome story!
You know, I should add ‘witty writer’ to my title, don’t you think?
Here it is:
The Story of Serlock ‘Olmes #1
Jelly Jones, a heavily mustachioed police chief, faced the five men standing before him. One, the one who was currently talking so fast that his second chin was vibrating, was gesticulating wildly with his bloody hands and pointing accusatorily at the other rat-faced chaps. The rat-faced chaps were, (quite transparently) denying everything with shocked faces.
“-and one of those darn stupid knaves just runned in and then he just grabbed my green ‘uns then he runned but lucky I woke up and I came and runned after him and he threw that rock at me and I got hurt but I kept running and he runned down my stairs and runned out the door and I tried to catch him but he just runned real quick and I couldn’t get him so I just gave you dudes a call and you got him and I have to say that was a real good catch ‘cause that guy runs real good.”
Jelly Jones acknowledged the compliment with a modest shrug, even though he had done nothing at all. In fact, he himself had been enjoying a good doughnut when his officers had tracked the thief down and arrested him and his cronies. Unfortunately, his nitwitted officers had confused the thief with his pals, and now they didn’t know who had committed the actual crime.
“He’s a big liar!” screamed a particularly evil looking guy. “I didn’t do nothing!”
“I bet you did,” another criminal muttered. “If you’re not a thief, then I’ll eat my own hat.”
The denials went on for several minutes until Jelly Jones banged the table furiously. Even though it hurt, police never showed pain in front of criminals, so he ignored it and shouted at the top of his lungs. Police always shout at the top of their lungs in front of criminals.
“I HAVE REACHED A DECISION!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. There, thankfully, was dead silence. Jelly Jones held up one finger as a signal to wait, and then selected a jelly doughnut from his respectable stash.
Mr. Double Chin scowled.
After Jelly had finished his doughnut, he shouted, (at the top of his lungs, of course) “I HAVE REACHED A DECISION!”
“Here comes the jelly doughnut,” muttered one of the criminals.
“MY DECISION—“ Double Chin threw a nervous glance at the window and relocated himself to the other side of the room “--IS THAT ALL OF YOU WILL SERVE TEN WEEKS IN JAIL!” Officers filed in and clapped handcuffs on the four criminals, while Jelly Jones found another doughnut and devoured it and Double Chin left the room, skipping out the door happily.
Outside the room, Jelly talked the matter over with his brother, Serlock ‘Olmes.
“Ya can’t just put all of ‘em into confinement!” yelped Serlock. “They’ll file a lawsuit or something!”
“Hey, how am I supposed to know which of ‘em did it? Huh?”
Serlock thought it over all through the night and all through the day, and, by reading Sherlock Holmes, came up with a solution.
At precisely six o’ clock in the evening, Serlock held four hairs in his hand, one from each criminal. The hairs had tape around them, with the criminals’ names on them.
“These hairs are magical hairs,” Serlock said, who was reading right out of a fat book entitled, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. “That unlucky one who is the true criminal will have his hair grow one centimeter overnight…and then we’ll see.”
There was a nervous stir among the criminals, and one long-nosed man seemed particularly unhappy. It seemed that most of them were superstitious.
The next day, the whole procession returned to the station. Originally all the hairs were the same length, and now one was exactly one inches shorter. HOW COULD THAT BE???
A man made a furious dash towards the lake, but was quickly surrounded by officers. He was shepherded towards the jail, and the others jumped and danced in glee, shouting profanities at the chagrined criminal.
Serlock was lauded a hero back at home, and a party was thrown in celebration.
What do you say? Amazing, no? I’ll make a fortune!