GAME: Hook my first line and sink her in to a paragraph!

The old tavern had closed for the night, and the bartender had just finished washing the last glass and placing it on the shelf when the door, which was locked, squeaked open and the stranger walked in.
"Whiskey, barkeep." grated the nine-foot-tall alien Ostrich.
"S- Sure, mister anything you say." The bartender sloshed the whiskey into a glass and slid it along to the monstrously-threatening creature, who snatched it up and knocked it back while saying:
"So. Where's the action in this burg?"
"They say the Peacock hotel, Mister."
"Peacock? Hhn, I don't like Peacocks.. but where is this dump?"
"Two blocks west, mister, you can't miss it."
The alien grunted and snatched the whiskey bottle from the bartender on his way out. "Okay if I take this, mister?"
"Sure, anything- just get me out of this paragraph."
"Huh. This is more than a paragraph bud. You worried about somethin'?"
"No, oh no, I'm not. I just- "
"Like maybe somethin might happen if I stick around a while in your precious paragraph? Like maybe you are way over your paragraph word or sentence limit and are gettin' a little nervous?"
"I- no, I... "
"Haw. This's gettin' to be more like a short story now, bartender bud-boy." The gangling monster alien re-entered the bar. "I'd say you were gettin' a little nerv_"
But the bartender had gone, and as a primary POV character, the paragraph/story could not continue without him.

Time spent under the apple tree with Fenwick made Cynthia dream of wilder times.
 
(Hah! I love it.!)

Time spent under the apple tree with Fenwick made Cynthia dream of wilder times. She remembered bobbing for apples at the harvest festival. She thought of the glorious evening dances on the square beneath bright lanterns, the popping of the fire as the turkey legs cooked and the flirting gazes they had given each other across it. And then, to her surprise, he kissed her.

--------------------------------------------

Dustin Belcher didn't consider himself an eccentric man, he was just very particular.
 
Dustin Belcher didn't consider himself an eccentric man, he was just very particular. Freshly ground Jamaican Blue coffee, cold-brewed overnight, to start the day; a white carnation in his lapel, purchased on the way to the university; lectures starting exactly on time and ending exactly on time, no matter how the students reacted to his analysis of ancient Mesopotamian history; precisely one hour of brisk walking through the local park, regardless of the weather; a single glass of Tuscan red with a meal of elaborately spiced legumes, grains, and vegetables; two hours of chamber music followed by six hours of deep sleep. It was with some surprise, therefore, that the Dean received the news that Professor Belcher was taking a sabbatical to pursue a career as a travel agent in the South Pacific.

_______________________________________________________________

The glass walls of the room glowed with soft blue light, as if they were underwater.
 
The glass walls of the room glowed with soft blue light, as if they were underwater.
Kragg knew, however, that the blue coloration was not caused by water, but in fact by Nepthazindium Oxide gas, mere molecules of which would kill him in seconds, should the walls be breached and he inhale any of it. He continued thinking, as he had for the last forty years, about how to escape his prison, but he kept running into the fact that his abode floated in outer space, orbiting the horror-planet Schmegmalia, and he was probably better off where he was.

Deana crept into the attic and concealed herself as whatever-it-was entered the house below.
 
Deana crept into the attic and concealed herself as whatever-it-was entered the house below. she could not believe that her aunt had calmly unlocked the door and let the intruders into the house directing the intruder in a steely voice to her room. and even now was calmly sipping tea in the gazebo with her uncle. she had barely enough time to get through the loose panel and tighten it behind her and up the closed up servants stairs to the attic. there was an old wardrobe and a large mirror balanced against the wall. some small boxes and a rolled up carpet tucked up against an old iron bedframe. she looked at the dormer window and realized that even if she didn't slip down the twenty six feet to the cobblestones below, there was no way she could not be seen on the face of the house. she was trapped and she heard the pounding through the house. a slow methodical search that was getting closer and closer.. then she heard her aunts voice as she unlocked the door to the garden to the attic, "I don't know how she would get up there, but you get her." she was seconds away from being discovered. then they were there. and the trunk and the wardrobe were the first places searched. she held her breath as danger came closer and closer. then the jackboots were inches away from her trembling form. "Zecken alte Hexe... Unterrassen e Tunte. Töten sie die Juden!" she heard them swear and then they lifted the mirror and saw there was only the all behind it... after her aunt and uncle left the house three hours later she crawled out of the wall from the hole concealed by the mirror's base. quickly packing, she jimmied open her aunts drawer and stole her cousin's passport. now walking to switzerland seemed a very good thing.

He ran his fingers over the base of the statue, and with a click, the wall panel opened.
 
He ran his fingers over the base of the statue, and with a click, the wall panel opened. The book, the precious book, was there, as he had hoped for, prayed for through these many long years. Years spent searching for an answer, a clue, a mere hint to the solution he needed, nay, must-have - a way to get published, become a known Author - or die trying. And now the book was his... he picked it up with trembling fingers and blew dust off the dust-jacket as he mouthed the one-word title aloud: "Punctuation."

He pounded on the keyboard furiously but the caps key would not unstick and he knew there was only one option left to him. )
 
He pounded on the keyboard furiously but the caps key would not unstick and he knew there was only one option left to him. it was time to change all his passwords to lower case.


There was a distinct scent of blueberries on her hands as they danced.
 
There was a distinct scent of blueberries on her hands as they danced. Something about the particular tang of whatever sub-species of blueberry was creating the aroma alerted Krannigan, an expert in exotic alien poisons, to potential danger. He let go of her and started dancing a lewd version of the twist as he moved steadily away. People stared as Krannigan gyrated obscenely out of the room, and some laughed, but they weren't laughing a few seconds later when the deadly blueberry knockout gas took effect.

The object in the sky grew steadily larger and Barney stopped slopping the hogs and gawked at it.
 
The object in the sky grew steadily larger and Barney stopped slopping the hogs and gawked at it. He gulped and put out a futile hand, seeing the ominous, red glow that suffused the ageing Dreamliner. Darkness covered the ground, but the aeroplane was clearly visible now, against the evening sky. The aeroplane turned, shedding the drenching, orange glow of the setting sun, and was suddenly nothing more than an old workhorse, heading in to land.

The sow pushed her way slowly but inexorably through the unlatched gate. Too late, Barney remembered that it is never wise to turn your back on Porcus giganticus.


"Record 71286" The message appeared, in small lettering, in the bottom right corner of the screen. Sulo sighed. It was already 921 records too late.
 
"Record 71286" The message appeared, in small lettering, in the bottom right corner of the screen. Sulo sighed. It was already 921 records too late. Five million dollars in-the-making and the "intelligent" data-mining algorithm still made these little under-graduate errors. He let his gaze fix on the notification for the half-second it took the computer to notice the grab command. He meant to glance it off into the screen corner and digital oblivion but an uninitiated twitch in his left eyebrow tossed it at the top-center of the screen instead. This opened the record and with a corrective glance he would have closed it if not for those three words glaring back at him from the document: "Ten million found."



There were those days of great clarity and other days through which my mind swam in and out of reality like a fog - and then days like this: surreal, so lost to illusion that I doubted every experience, every thought and every action as if it mattered to do so.
 
There were those days of great clarity and other days through which my mind swam in and out of reality like a fog - and then days like this: surreal, so lost to illusion that I doubted every experience, every thought and every action as if it mattered to do so.

So it was that at first I sceptically disregarded the incandescent, glorious figure that beckoned to me from a far doorway. Then it smiled and I went to it willingly, surrendering my being to its mastery.

A fiery pain clenched my chest and the pacemaker woke, striking again and again, winning control over my life. Worse than the pain was the fear that followed, that I would never know the peace I had so nearly attained.


It is undeniable that Thadunk was born to be master of the world.
 
It is undeniable that Thadunk was born to be master of the world. That's what was scribed upon every flag and banner the army of secret police had placed upon every building. The lights dimmed for a second as the electric surge fed the slaughtering pen. Just another group of citizens to have publicly denied Thadunk, being reeducated... permanently.


Every night there was a glowing green light from the cave in the cliff.
 
Every night there was a glowing green light from the cave in the cliff. Some said it was phosphorescence from seaweed that clung to the walls when the tide went out. Others invented lurid tales of glowing sea-monsters waiting to chop you into small pieces. I was the only one who knew the truth, and I wasn't saying a word. Being born dumb can have its advantages.


Last time I saw Emily, she turned into a swan and flew away.
 
Last time I saw Emily, she turned into a swan and flew away. Of course that may have been because I was high on Krystal Psi.

Now I was reformed, rehabilitated and re-assimilated into society. My heart filled with an aching pity as I looked down at Emily, huddled under the stone arch in filthy clothes. The ravages of the dimension-hopping drug I had introduced her to were clear on her sunken, jaundiced face, and the pity was washed aside with deep guilt. Ignoring the stench I picked up her frail, almost weightless body and carried her up the dark street. Maybe my mistress would save Emily, as she had me.

______________________________________

As I gazed over the rolling Wiltshire countryside I frowned. That herd of giraffes hadn't been there yesterday.
 
As I gazed over the rolling Wiltshire countryside I frowned. That herd of giraffes hadn't been there yesterday. The zebras and the antelope, where were they? The migrating wildebeest passed by in the fireground, and it wasn't even spring. It made no sense. Nothing for it but to reach for another pint of Marlborough Red...


Dungeon life was too bad - one meal a day, a roof over my head and best of all, completely hidden from sight.
 
Dungeon life was too bad - one meal a day, a roof over my head and best of all, completely hidden from sight. I leant back and let out a sigh of relief as the urine sodden straw cradled my aching, rickety back and the filth I called a pillow nestled my head in its disturbingly dank embrace. The air sweetened from its usual comforting foulness as I realised, to my horror, my wife was waiting behind the gate. A guard unlocked it with a clank as the penny dropped. After all these long, quiet, peaceful years she had somehow paid my bail.
-----------------------------

The numbers repeated endlessly, falling on deaf ears.
 
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The numbers repeated endlessly, falling on deaf ears. The hall filled with the uneasy exhalation of many nervous men, they could ignore the voice that crackled from the head of the hall, it was easy for them. They would sleep in their own beds that night, praying their thanks to very same god that had just forsaken me. The numbers kept sounding off, again and again, mocking me: 'Seven one three, seven one three,' that was my number, and that voice, it grated on me. This revolution was so easy for them, I thought, it wasn't their number being called out, it wasn't going to begin with them.
I placed my plastic cutlery down onto the pile of uneaten ground meat that sat unappetising and grey in the middle of my plastic food tray and I stood up. I smoothed my pyjamas with my hands and I stood straight and proudly, and at the top of my lungs I yelled a strong resounding 'no.'

---

That was the last of it.
 
That was the last of it. A single scarlet drop in the bottom of the glass. Evan swirled it around, teasing himself with the prospect of the last sweet taste. He raised it to his lips and drank. The last bottle of wine on Earth was gone. He wondered what grapes had looked like.

_____________________________________________________________

Between Hallison and Valer the road was rough and pitted.
 
Between Hallison and Valer the road was rough and pitted. Why, oh why couldn't I be assigned to another master. Master Hallison was alright to be around ordinarily, even pleasant once you'd fed him a decent meal, but stick him with Master Valer and send us all off on some crazy mission? There was nothing a slave like me could do to make the track any more tolerable. Master Hallison had deliberately stuck me right between himself and Master Valer so as to avoid direct communication. He had me relay everything he had to say as if they were children in the midst of the most serious game of silent treatment. Perhaps, I thought dangerously to myself, I should point out that they are in love with each other, that we've all known for ages and that they should just get on with it, but the road wasn't yet rough enough for me to loose my head over it. The young, I almost spoke aloud, then I made the fatal error, I tutted.

---------------------

A galexy of miniscule globules spewed from his tight "F" forming lips, he was a man who liked to curse.
 
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