Setting the scene game, Mark II

[Zubi-Ondo]

In a telecabin style ski lift

(Not that I’ve ever done this before, but…)


“We’re nearly the first ones here.” Kaylan said with obvious glee. His words puffing white frozen water vapor into the air as he spoke.
Rhett could see the big grin on Kaylan’s face, despite the tinted goggles, floppy eared fuzzy red hat, and bright purple scarf that obscured most of his head. He wouldn’t be hard to find in a snowdrift Rhett thought to himself. “Yeah man, fresh powder, here we come!” Rhett replied.
Their movements through the early morning snow resembled knights in armor; Stiff boots force each foot to dig a heel, drop its toe, and sink a bit as the other leg swings slowly past. Skis fit together base to base, balanced firmly on one shoulder held by an arm on top of the front end. Behind their heads, the back half of the skis swing perilously around, compelling skiers in lines to keep some distance from each other.
Waist high ropes outline the passage up to the giant lift barn. Maroon wooden walls rise up to meet rows of window panels that define the top half of the building. The window panels tilt further out on top, and follow the curvature around the back of the structure. On the uphill side of the building, thick braided metal cables run out the front, and up the hill to the next tower, and the next on up the hill. Cabins are suspended on the cables, heading up over snowy dales and pine treed patches until they disappear from view over a ridge.
Rhett and Kaylan file through the big open doors on the side into the loading bay. Downward cabins come in on the opposite side and turn around at the back slowing to a crawl, and opening their automatic doors for the passengers. The horizontally mounted pulley wheels are massive, at least 5 meters in diameter, and the cables ride smoothly through a groove around their rims. Hook-pinned somehow at the top, the cabins’ outer shell is a smooth enameled surface, with rounded bottom edges never touching the ground.
The kindly lift attendant takes sets of skis or a snowboard from each passenger, inserts them into the rack mounted on the outer shell of the cabin, and they climb in, grabbing the aluminum pole in the center to swing down into the hard bench style seat. Two people on the uphill side, two on the downhill side makes for a cozy ride.
Once the car exits the lift station, it moves with greater velocity, but not too fast to enjoy the view. The windows partially fog up, and Kaylan reaches over to slide the window open a bit. A glimpse up the hill reveals almost virgin terrain. A lone skier swishing along one side of the run is the only visible traffic so far.
The sun filters through wispy clouds, projecting speckled shadows across the cabin. Some blue sky showing here and there beckons the possibility of good visibility today. Down the hill, the maroon lift station is a small red box in the mosaic of checkered shapes – the lodge building, the shops, the parking lots all look like a miniature scale model of a small town for a toy railroad.
Gusty wind blows on the cabin car noisily from time to time, becoming quieter when a barricade of evergreens blocks it. The cable gripping mechanism attached to the top of the car rubbing on the roller wheels rumbles and vibrates the cabin every time it passes a lift tower. Its fun to try to talk while that’s going on, since your words rumble too.
Approaching the final lift station at the top, the riders get ready. The doors open, they amble quickly if not clumsily out of the car and grab their gear from the side of the car before it rounds the big wheel and heads down again. One must be quick, else the embarrassment of telling the operator and waiting a whole cycle for your gear is at stake. Out the main doors, and on to the snow you go. A quick look at the map board to verify your run route while you’re attaching your gear, and you’re off.


(Too long? Sorry, I haven’t been up yet this year and I had to write it as though I was doing it.)

- Z.


On top of the Empire State Building In New York City on a Windy Day

 

[Interference]

So happy to see this thread's return, but is Animal Lover anywhere to be found? No time right now to contribute, but I'll be back later. Just popped in to say thanks to Tal for reviving it - I enjoyed it, too

 

[WafflesToo]

On top of the Empire State Building In New York City on a Windy Day
The winds whipped around him as he stood on the observation deck. He felt his stomach lurch as the building gently, almost imperceptively swayed beneath him. He held tightly onto his jacket to keep it from being whipped and jealously watched his girlfriend next to the wrought-iron fence encircling the gravelly platform. She was at the telescope taking in the view beyond and seemed to be having the time of her life with it. Even stepping close to the edge had sent him into such vertigo that thinking of it made him dizzy. One of the many pigeons that roosted up here stared at him, mocking his discomfort. He quietly choked, "Shut it you stupid bird..."

Next
Deep underwater

 

[Interference]

Deep underwater

Pressure from all sides, crushing inward. Even through the suit I can feel it. Feel my head throbbing, head aching like the worst kind of headache. Aching legs, heave and pull at them to get them to move. Think about dropping the weights, letting myself float a bit. Would that be safe? Can't think. Damned headache. Think. Loosen the weights, does that help me move or would it make me too buoyant? Can't think. Swing the leg forward. Making progress.

I'm too old for this.

Damned Disneyworld.


Stranded in a snowdrift

 

[Zubi-Ondo]

Stranded in a snowdrift

The blistering heat hit his face like hot waves from a blasting furnace... oops! Erm, no that's not it.

Which way is out??!! He heard the words echo in his mind. Poor Sheila was shivering even though he held her closely inside of his jacket. How could a simple snowmobiling joy ride turn so terribly bad so quickly? The wind kept whipping curls of powdered crystals into a swirl, blocking his view of the sky, or the trees, or something. Anything! The sensation of cold biting his toes had become like needles stabbing his feet through his boots. He looked up and saw blue sky, but snow kept pouring into the hole filling his goggles with sprays of white dust. Leveraging his feet against the snow wall before him, he leveraged his weight against the packed snow behind him, and pushed with all of his might. The snow behind him gave way; only but a few inches. He began kicking the face of the snow in front of him, just above where he had packed it with his feet, creating a hole in the snow wall. He angled his leg out some more, balancing Sheila on his other leg. He packed the snow again with the flat bottom of his boot just above the new hole. Then another hole above that. I'll make a ladder, he thought. Once he had made three consecutive steps he could reach no higher, so he decided to try it. He pushed his back against the snow behind him, and stepped into the first hole he had made. He was now at an angle. He now began to wish that the crater they'd fallen into was more narrow. He stepped up one more notch, inching his back up the snow wall behind him. Sheila was now lying almost prone on top of him. He reached with one leg to get his feet to the next hole, and whump! They both fell into a heap at the bottom of the hole again. "Dammit!" His voice was muffled by the thick snow around them. "Sorry, sweetie." he said to his daughter. "Don't worry. I'll get us out of here." He knelt, and struggled to stand up. Suddenly, something yellow and thin entered his field of vision. After a moment to focus, he saw it. A yellow nylon rope. He could hear muffled voices overhead. "You okay down there?"

Mission Control Center, Cape Canaveral, 30 seconds from Blast off. The first manned launch to Mars.

 

[WafflesToo]

Mission Control Center, Cape Canaveral, 30 seconds from Blast off. The first manned launch to Mars.

On the large overhead screen Kevin Sheppard looked over their spacecraft. Like a spire reaching into the heavens the third vehicle of the 'Mars Express' mission waited patiently. This one was special though; unlike Express 1 or 2 this one carried a crew of 14 men and women on mankinds first trek outside of Earth's orbit.

"T-minus thirty..." the loudspeakers droned, its montone contradicting the energy in the room.

Row after row of monitors and thier attending personel buzzed with excitement of it all. The last time anything like this had happened was July 16th, 1969.

"T-minus twenty..."

Each one watched thier dutystation carefully, ready to scrub the launch at the first sign of a serious failure. They all knew thier jobs well, they had been training and preparing for this moment for close to a decade.

"T-minus ten..."

He felt his heart jump slightly, the ship was quickly coming to life in the last few seconds. In nine more seconds they would make history...

"T-minus eight..."

He couldn't take his eyes from the overhead. Streams of smoke issued from the vents as pumps came to life within the rocket, warming themselves for thier 30-minutes of glory before being thrown away with the rest of the expended rocket.

"T-minus four..."

The umbilical dropped free, the ship was entirely under its own power.

"T-minus three..."

The supporting tower started drawing away from the nose of the craft.

"T-minus two..."

He glanced at the crew cheif who gave him a huge grin and a thumbs up in return.

"T-minus one..."

White smoke streamed from the base of the rocket as the pumps began streaming fuel into the heated engines. A moment later there was a tremendouse flare of light and the rocket began to lift off from the pad.

"Ignition,... we have lift-off"

The rocket accelerated steadily, riding on a spike of flame and trailing a plume of smoke like a column back to the ground. Cheers went up throughout the control room before quickly quieting back to the hum. Thier ship had left, carrying a dream with it.



Next:

A sailboat in the middle of the sea.

 

[Interference]

We was idling, you know, like you do on a sail boat in the ocean, throwing food for the dolphins, watching them glide through the water beside us, when this great, hulking mass of scorching metal fell out of the sky and capsized us. What's that? Identifying features? Yeah, it had "Mars Express" written all down one side.


Next: A television studio during the worst hurricaine on record

 

[WafflesToo]

You are that thumbtack on the chair of life

Anyway,
A television studio during the worst hurricane on record.
The anchor looks into the monitor with practiced concern using a face that cost millions to sculpt. With a smile that took thousands of hours to perfect he says, "Looks like it's going to be quite a blow down there Ted."

The field reporter in the monitor looks beleaguered just to stand; his rain gear whipping around him as loose derbis flies past him in the background. He shouts to be heard, "That isn't the half of it Dan. Just moments ago civil authorities forcefully evacuated most of the block around us. As you can see the winds have blown peices off of some of the buildings near us, the damage, the damage is incredible."

Still smiling, the anchor imperceptively shifts his eyes to look at the teleprompter. Taking a split-second to read the lines he says, "Ted, I just got a report in from the analyst that states that it will be increasing in force in just a few moments. Are you in a..."

Too late. The building behind the field reporter explodes in the force of the hurricane. The camera shakes uncontrollably and several people, including Ted can be seen diving for cover.

"Ted, are you still with us? Ted?" he asks with a small hint of genuine concern.

The field reporter stands back up into view and looks releived. Looking into the camera he says, "The winds are finally subsiding! The devistation to the countryside is phenominal! And that finally concludes the first half of the vice presidential debates..."

next:
Hitchhiking on a stretch of lonely highway.

 

[Pyan]

Hitchhiking on a stretch of lonely highway.

Come on, come on, come on...there's gotta be a car soon...

It was getting past comfort now, as the sun started to flatten out at the top of its arch. On both sides of the strip of tarmac, the dun, dry ground stretched away until the boundaries of sky and desert met in a shimmering haze, blurring the horizon as if someone had dragged a thumb through the pastel border of brown and blue.

The thin black strip seemed like an endless seam through the dust. Where the ends vanished into the growing haze, strange figures seemed to dance, like a vision of hell through the wrong end of a telescope.

Someone's gotta be wanting to get to the city today...


I sat on my suitcase and waited, with the sun on my neck, and dreamed of a long, cool beer...




Pavement Cafe, Paris, 1925...

 

[Interference]

as if someone had dragged a thumb through the pastel border of brown and blue.

I liked that.

"Jean, you're a fool," he said as he sipped his absynthe and smiled pleasantly at his friend's howling error.

"Because I see magic in art? Yes, even in your amateurish scrawls, my friend."

"Magic in art, magic in art, you see things always in the reverse. It is the art that is the magic. Magic is nothing without the vision."

"Whose vision? Yours? Is your painting of your studio a vision of magic or a pedantic reiteration of pragmatism in disguise? Look at your work, my friend. Follow your own advice - say what you see."

Jean beckoned an attractive waitress, but attracted the ugly one instead.

"Oui, messieurs," she said in a corrupt variant of the French.

"What accent is that?" Jean enquired politely after giving their order for luncheon.

"I'm from Madrid," the girl replied. "I came for l'Exposition Des Arts Décoratifs." She spoke as though she had practiced the words at length.

"And what do you expect to see there?" Jean said coldly. "Magic? Or mere Art?"

"Pah!" his companion snorted. "You misrepresent my words, as ever."

"I will see wonders, messieurs. I will see the future."

"You renew my faith in Spaniards, my pretty one. It is magic you speak of, pure and simple," Jean declared triumphantly. "The alchemy of the age as it turns from the epoch of base metal to the era of purest gold."

"And now you confuse magic with science. You are absolutely incorrigible, my dear M. Cocteau."

"I see far into the future, Pablo," Jean said having dismissed the girl with the barest of gestures. "I see a world where there is no difference between these three divisions, where scientists will dream poetry and artists will explain the universe. Do you dare to live in that world, Pablo? Do you dare to explore the history of man's future with the fellows of my movement, my Prieure de Sion, Senor Picasso?"

"Do you wish me to join you, my dear friend?" Pablo enquired. "Or to lead you?"


A Subaquatic Hotel

 

[Moonbat]

A Subaquatic Hotel

The hotel was a dream, like something out of an Aquaman comic, a huge underwater castle, sculpted to look like coral, painted to bring colour to the depths of the ocean, lit up by several hundred underwater spot lights. The approach really took your breath away, it actaully left Ulrika speechless, for about three second. But that's where the dream ended.
It's just bloody typical, you come all the way to the bottom of the ocean, on a holiday of a life time; a holiday that'll take a lifetime to pay for, just to show your new woman a great time, to impress her with your lifestyle and what happens? It turns into the worst holiday from hell in the history of fawlty tower disaters. First of all she got seasick, then when we dived she got underseasick, then we arrived and it was all 'oh wow' and 'how grandiose'. Of course all the hotel staff were eyeing her up, most of them were conspicously chatting her up, she loved every minute of it, the attention that is. At dinner she was almost stolen from me by an oil magnate, but she was only teasing. That night was grandiose, she didn't dissapoint there, but it might have been the start of our more serious problems. She could scream you see, scream for Europe, you be afraid of that if you were trapped under 20000 leagues of seawater with her. I have to say I'm usually proud when I make her make that sound, but I didn't expect it to have such devastating consequenses. I thought I'd been told the windows in the hotel were made of glass so strong it couldn't be broken by shark tooth, or bullet, or even whale song; apparantly it can be broken by a Swedish Screaming Orgasm!

Taken from Rufus Palemont's memoirs


The Cleanest Toilet in Windsor Castle

 

[Interference]

Yeah, hi, Monica, yeah, it's great, you know, not many reporters allowed to view the Royal Royal Dalton, but ever since he was crowned King of the Jungle, an insider source has suggested His Royal Highness has been flushed with pride, no pun intended - much ... So, let's take a look, shall we, and see if we can guess Whoooooose Bathroom?

If you'll follow me ... this is Adrian, everybody. Adrian is our cameraman for the day, by appointment, as you might say. Don't be put off by that vacant look, he's been engaged at great expense, another pun not intended. In here, Ade.

Now this is the door, we'll have a look at it first, because it's quite some door, I think you'll have to agree. I'm told it's solid oak, I'll just give it a knock ... you hear that? That's what we call a tap on the bathroom door. They think of everything, don't they? I intended that one.

Let's just go in ... hope there's nobody in here ... nope. The light's on, all right, but there's nobody home.

So this is what it looks like on the inside. Wine red tiling all round, as you can see. Just the one mirror, surprisingly. You can just imagine whoever uses this bathroom standing in front of it, asking who the fairest of 'em all is.

Now look. Just look at these. Look at these taps. These are some taps, I think you'll agree. Solid gold, they look like. What would that be? Anyone? Eighteen carrat, something along those lines?

Anyway, these taps, and there are two more of them over here - or fawcets, if you're of an American persuasion - are probably a major cost, worth more than your salary and mine put together, Monica. These are what I would call, in the original Latin, a pair of fawcet majors! Now let's have a look at the - I think they call it whiteware in polite circles.

I can see my reflection! I'm not kidding. I can see my reflection in the porcelain. Come here, Ade, and take a look.

A look, I said! Honestly, I don't know where we get 'em from.

So, there you have it. A bathroom, but not any old bathroom. A Royal bathroom. But whose? Here's a clue. It looks like it has never, ever been used. So who do we know, who is of the Blood Royal, who finds using the convenience too much of an inconvenience?

The lines are open.


Midnight, Hallowe'en, in a Waxworks Museum

 

[briantm]

Tweaking the cigar in his mouth, Groucho froze me with a glassy stare. He knew I'd stolen Mike's keys and didn't much approve. Harpo didn't seem to care. "We drop an E and finish our cans in the waxworks." Seemed like a great idea when Joey saw Mike had left his jacket. Now I think I got a bad pill coz I'm on the edge of a downer. Joey wasn't pleased when I refused to go into the horror icons aisle but I could feel the paranoia setting in. He's more than happy now though, sharing a brew with the King. Couldn't find the lights so we were illuminating the familiar faces with our zippos.

Oh ****. Bette Midler!

"Hey Joey, lets head back and check out Frank and the Wolfman."


Next setting: Japanese Arcade

 

[Zubi-Ondo]

Next setting: Japanese Arcade

"Tsing Tsao Ping!" "Arigato. You lose..." Lights blinked at Najii in different colors, but the display no longer responded to the "Joy" stick. "Dang Sakajawea game! I go try the Pinball wizard. Maybe I win again."

A fury was whipping up on the next aisle as the American one they called Tommy was still going on the same game after 39 minutes, and a crowd of at least 15 onlookers were cheering for him.

"How can deaf, dumb, and blind one beat me!" Cried Najii. He stomped across the rows until he found a quiet little game called 'The Acid Queen.' Maybe I have better luck with this one. He dropped 4 quarters in the slot a he soon found himself in a room with a very oddly dressed young woman.

"Hmm... What happens next?" Najii said, looking around at the dark curtains and the round crystal ball on the table in the middle of the room.

(Okay It's a Who rip-off. I doubt they'll mind.)


A crowded street in Las Vegas, Nevada. A hooker approaches a man and his wife, asking them lewd and unsavory questions.

 

[Interference]

The rain had eased off, or perhaps it was just starting to gather itself together for another onslaught, and the streets were becoming populated again with people declaring that they never expected this much rain in August, for crying out loud.

"What do you reckon it is," someone said. "Government cloud-seeding program, or armageddon?"

"Cumulo nimbus," a road-sweeper who had heard the question replied.

Alan Marsh laughed a little and his wife nudged him and smiled. Perhaps no two other people in the world, Al thought to himself, would have either heard the exchange or shared a moment of amusement over it. He held her arm tighter to him and squeezed her hand a little and she leaned her head on his shoulder for two more steps.

"Hey, Al! Where ya been? This yo liddle lay-deh?"

Al looked around and met the wonderous eyes of Wanda Wellcome (he hadn't believed it was her real name when she'd first told him it and, though he'd read all the James Bond books ever written and seen two of the films, he couldn't get it out of his head that she had taken her name from an Ian Fleming).

"Hi, Wanda, yes, this is Patty. Patty," he said turning to his wife, "this is the hooker I've been telling you about."

"Oh, hullo," said Patty, "Al has told me so much about you, I really can't wait until New Year's eve."

"What's happening New Year's eve?" Wanda asked, somewhat befuddled.

"Oh, Patty, now, come on, I told you it was meant to be a surprise," Al said and though his words were sternly uttered, his eyes twinkled whimsically.

"It's still going to be a surprise, hon," Patty said. "I haven't told her anything more than the date."

"We havin' a date?" Wanda asked. "You into t'reesomes, then, Al? That yo bag, man?"

"I'll thank you not to refer to my wife as a bag, if you don't mind," said Al, but he performed affront so well that only Patty could be sure he was kidding.

"So, what you an' the stick here got lined up for us New Year?" said Wanda who was not entirely aware of her surroundings, let alone the subtleties of conversational exchange. "Sump'n wit' baby oil, I'll bet. Yo hubby sho likes his baby oil, Martha."

"Patty," said Patty. "Yeah, I know he does."

"You know what else he loves, Tandy?" said Wanda.

"Pretty much," Patty replied and she smiled at her husband's faux embarrassment.

"I'm still here!" he said. "I have ears, you know. Honestly, I've never been embarrassed like this before."

"Plenty of other ways, I'll bet," said Wanda. "So, come on. Spill. What's up New Year's eve? Or should I say, 'who's up'?" She laughed outrageously at the wit and humour of her own remark and attempted to nudge the couple alternately with her elbows but gave up as she felt herself begin to teeter unsteadily.

"Oh, go on, Al, let me tell her. I'm so excited and she's so drunk."

"Oh, all right, as long as she'll forget everything we say in the morning, you can tell her."

Patty clapped her hands gleefully and took Wanda into a pornographic tatoo parlour doorway for some privacy. The door opened, so they moved.

"Don't tell a soul," said Patty, and Wanda swore she wouldn't, half wondering why she would tell anyone about whatever private party this couple had planned, and then she thought of a couple of people so she swore again more vehemently. "We're destroying Vegas at midnight, New Year's eve."

"You bet," said Wanda.

"Al here's an angel, you see."

"You bet he is, sweetie," said Wanda, winking at the man in question.

"So am I, if it comes to that."

"I'll bet," said Wanda again.

"He does the raining fire," said Patty, "and I do the pestillence."

"I've never heard of those," said Wanda who thought she knew every position there was.

"We're cleaning up the planet, starting with the whore palaces and gambling houses, then we're moving on to the money lenders and corrupt politicians. It's really so exciting. My first, you know."

"Yeah, well, honey, way I see it, you'll always remembers yo first," Wanda said and she winked.


The Engine Room of a Toy Factory

 

[Moonbat]

The Engine Room of a Toy Factory
Sally was tired, her arms ached, her wrists were beginning to sound as brittle as weetabix, her mouth was as dry as a desert's wit, her throat as sore as an alcoholic's pride and the ringing in her ears had devolved from a high pitch scream into a dull rythmic roar. She walked the dog, and rocked the cradle, if only to give her mind something to concentrate on. That was usually what killed them, not the repetitive strain injuries or the lack of clean air, not even the meagre rations that they had to eat through straws, but the monotony of yo-yo-ing for 24hrs a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. But she couldn't stop, she had seen what happened when children stopped yo-yo-ing. The factory always required lubricant and the driver liked to say 'there aint nothing as slimy as the blood and guts of naughty children'
So sally kept on yo-yo-ing


Driving along the world's longest and most remote road, in a milkfloat

 

[Interference]

Day 12: Drove over a bump this morning. Nearly spilled some milk. Close, or what!

Day 42: Refrigeration unit must be on the fritz. I can smell something rotten in back.

Day 121: Last night's bend has left me shaking like a jellyfish. Why can't they put up signs warning about things like that? Had another cheese sandwich for breakfast. I think the cheese is off, now, as well.

Day 238: Nearly there, now, I can see the smoke from the chimney against the sky. Boy, will they be glad to see me. Getting colder these evenings, but I have mum's scarf.

Day 300: Celebrated my birthday this morning. Post man said he'd driven all night to find me. He did it in one night??? Starting to get ice forming on my windscreen. Never mind. Nearly there.

Day 358: Delivered milk to the Hutchisons at last. They didn't seem as pleased as I thought they'd be. Ah, well, better get back home. Recharging the batteries in their cow shed tonight, should be ready to head off in the morning.

Day 360: Just realised ... They have cows!!!


Flying the very first Kyte in ancient Japan

 

[Zubi-Ondo]

Flying the very first Kyte in ancient Japan

Kyoto and Wi had been friends from boyhood. Now reaching the beginnings of manhood, their dreams were getting bigger and more extreme. They dreamt of becoming great warriors, and joining the royal army. They had daily pretend battles with sticks for swords and drew battle game strategies in the dirt. One day, as they were drawing just such a map, a strong wind whipped through the outcropping of rocks around them. They had built a small box out of rice paper and sticks, meant to be a model of a fortress they were attacking. The wind blew the dirt and sand every which way and destroyed the drawings they had made in the dirt. Having covered their eyes to shield them from the dust, they didn't see the box blow up into the air until the wind had died down and they uncovered their eyes. The model fortress was being carried away with the wind higher and higher. It grew smaller in their sight as it blew up and away.
"If only we could fly." Wi said in a wistful manner.
"Yes." Kyoto replied with a sigh. As Kyoto watched the box flying away, his thoughts began to take a new course. He turned to Wi and said, "You know, if we had tied that box down it could only have flown as far as the string would allow." He was now smiling at Wi.
Wi began to smile as well. "Yes. Maybe we can't fly, but we can make our fortresses fly!" He said with glee.
The next day they went to the same hill, and the same outcropping of rock, where they took out the new makeshift fortress they had made, now having a string attached. They pinned the end of the string under a rock. They waited, and waited. No wind came. They started to doubt if they had really come up with a good idea at all. They got up to leave, and as Kyoto moved the rock that held the string the wind began to pick up. They exchanged looks of hopefulness, and soon a wind came and took the box out of Kyoto's hand. He fumbled to find the end of the string and the whole clump of string fell on the ground. Before the box had completely escaped with the wind, Wi stomped on the end of the string with his foot, and quickly after that, the sting became taught and the fortress was flipping around in the wind at roughly 40 meters above them. It spun in circles and began to tangle itself up in the string. Within minutes it had taken a dive and crashed into the ground.

They practiced their new art again and again in the days that followed. When they showed their parents, the parents laughed and said "Boys, you have come up with a most impressive toy. We will take this idea to the craftsman Jo-Shin in the marketplace, and see if he will go into business with us to build, and perfect this toy."

This kite eventually became known as the "SUMIYOSHI" kite, and was sold not only as a toy, but also used for signaling troops in times of war.


Two Outlaws in the American old west trapped at the top of a cliff by the sheriff and his trackers. The only escape available is to jump about 75 meters into a large, (and hopefully deep) river below.

 

[Interference]

"I can't swim, Butch."

"Guess we'd better give up, then."

"Okay."



A security officer and a homeless person together after closing time in a nightclub with a leaking roof during a thunderstorm.

 

[MistingWolf]

An Upscale Restaurant

The lights were dim, but there were enough of them to keep the restaurant lit. Couples in fine suits, sparkling dresses, and expensive wigs laced with cheap pearls sat at their respective tables. Each table stood with a sort of indignance in their red tablecloths perfectly centered over their tops. I shift uncomfortably in my chair, my high heels squishing my toes together, and trying to ignore the wedgie that had presented itself after I had sat down. The conversation of the others of our double date drifted around me as I only half-paid attention to their boisterous talking.

Oh, wait... I didn't see there was a third page >.> My bad.... Uh..... I got no ideas for Interference's setting ^^;

Next
At sea