Three-Legged Improv

[Joshua Jones]

(Never done Noir before, but why not give it a go...)


Rain poured on the wicked city like confetti for a morbid parade.

The mourners, soaked to the bone, carried the casket of the last schmuck to cross the Horizon Corporation down Main Street.

A gun rested under my trencher, and bullets in my fedora; I had been hired to ensure this was the last parade of tears in Paradise City.


Now, for my attempt at breaking the thread...
Vegetable, scientist, Mil SF

 

[Randy M.]

Rats. You beat me by moments but I'm sending it anyway!

----
Down the mean city streets, labyrinthine between towering sky scrappers the dead men marched, stepping high and slow, some dropping an arm and some a leg and a few just a toe.

The mayor sneered, "That'll keep the living joes and jills in line for a while."

The necromancer, pocketing his fee, smiled.
---

Vegetable? Scientist? Mil SF? Hoo, boy ...

 

[Joshua Jones]

Rats. You beat me by moments but I'm sending it anyway!

----
Down the mean city streets, labyrinthine between towering sky scrappers the dead men marched, stepping high and slow, some dropping an arm and some a leg and a few just a toe.

The mayor sneered, "That'll keep the living joes and jills in line for a while."

The necromancer, pocketing his fee, smiled.
---

Vegetable? Scientist? Mil SF? Hoo, boy ...

Well, if we don't get any takers for that, we could use what you would have picked as an alternate. I definitely enjoyed your blend of Noir and urban fantasy.

 

[Randy M.]

Horseless carriage, blacksmith, Beat lit.

 

[chrispenycate]

The troops retreated before the latest invaders - accelerated triffids, any fraction of which rerooted, and grew.

There only hope was to slow them until the maddest scientist (he who had produced the mutaion in the first place) could develop an effective weedkiller.

Meanwhile civilisation was torn apart and fields hunted their own fertiliser.

Nanotechnology, brachiation, dieselpunk

Dig this, dude, the blacksmith's back, repairing pot-holed chassis.

No software fix, no GPS,

No horse dung neither - classy.

 

[Coconut_Sundae]

No one had thought that society's best intentions, its most sacred efforts, would be what brought the apocalypse in the end.

The trees, enhanced at the molecular level, grew many kilometres tall and covered the Earth - Herman and the other rare survivors, too lost in the ever climbing jungles to breed, cared little for the species now.
They merely swing between the branches, hunting steampunk lemurs and whichever else of the animals can survive the ever climbing woods of... The Tree-cherous Earth.

I couldn't help it, puns are my weakness xD
The whole thing wasn't just a setup for that joke, honest.
_____

Damascus Steel, Dragon tamer, Deepest ocean

 

[chrispenycate]

Damascus steel, case hardened with the watermarked blade, was originally invented as a particularly nasty means of execution - a yellow hot sword blade was quenched in the victim. They then discovered that the sword itself was more flexible, while the edge was harder and would sharpen more. As their first (not over scientific) theory was that the spirit of the executee ended up in the blade, there were a lot of executions to supply the market, but fortunately, before depopulating the city they discovered that several blades could be case hardened in one criminal, that it didn't matter whether he was alive or dead (as long as he hadn't been dead too long) and that a sheep or dog could give identical results.

Dragon hunters like long spears, but you can treat the steel heads the same way, if you can stop the shaft from catching on fire - and you don't even need the forge fire, if you can get the beast angry enough.

But a wooden shaft is too easy to burn through, while a metal shaft was too heavy for any rapid movement, so ultimately the remaining pike-length spears were traded off to the mermen, for disposing of irritating krakens.

Post-armageddon aristocracy, angler, housekeeping.

 

[Joshua Jones]

Post Armageddon Aristocracy? I thought I was evil...

Just to make sure I know the rules, do the actual words need to be said, or just the ideas, and do they need to be in order? Also, are there any limits to how many sentences can be used? I have an idea, but I want to make sure it is within the rules.

 

[nixie]

Post Armageddon Aristocracy? I thought I was evil...

Just to make sure I know the rules, do the actual words need to be said, or just the ideas, and do they need to be in order? Also, are there any limits to how many sentences can be used? I have an idea, but I want to make sure it is within the rules.

Ill revive the thread by answering @Joshua Jones question.

I. You can use the idea instead of the actual words.
2. No they don't have to be in order.
3. Three sentences only.

 

[Graymalkin]

Post-armageddon aristocracy, angler, housekeeping

"Rad darling - I've caught the Mrs. Beetons - and it's mostly intact," said Inertia, as she unhooked the weedy mass from father's favourite Royal Wulff.

Both siblings climbed the river bank to stare hopefully towards the sprawling, teetering, crumbling, irradiated and exhausted ancestral home - smashed as it was, beneath the lurid streaks of ionising sky.

With the servants long gone before the first strike and Rad soon to go gloriously insane, couldn't they still keep busy and pretend it was nothing more than a doll's house and that they were children once more?

Taxi rank, Witch, birthday

 

[Graymalkin]

Taxi rank, Witch, birthday

Ahem. Idiot. Let's try again.
Alien desert. Swimming instructor. Fridge.

 

[Joshua Jones]

Alright, let's give this a go...

"Well, looks like the planetary survey was wrong..." Jessica said as she looked out over the waves of sand standing in place of ocean waves, adding, "not much work for a swim instructor here, I suppose."

The villager shook his head and said, "Bad luck, Miss; my wife and I will make you some dinner."

As she walked out of the transport, the villager pulled out his communicator and said, "Honey, clean out the fridge; we'll have a big harvest tonight, and two more tomorrow!"

Let's do an easy one and see if we can get participation up...
Military officer, gas giant, space fighter.

 

[Graymalkin]

Hmmm ... sounds to me like the planetary surveyor's in on that little arrangement.

 

[nixie]

The military officer approached the space fighter.

" Andrew old chap, it's time to give this thread an airing"


"Captain, the amount of time I've spent on the gas giant, I need plenty of air"

Harmony, elephant, myth

 

[farntfar]

How the elephant came to be.

"Has anyone seen my Harmony hairspray?", cried Quiff, the hairy mammoth

"I just pray my offspring don't have this problem!"

Postage stamp, pilot, travelog

 

[Alex The G and T]

I'm usually an air mail pilot.
Not a single piece of mail, today, had an air mail stamp.
I walked, rode a bus, and took a train; to deliver the mail on land.


Swimming pool, lifeguard, Post apocalyptic SF

 

[Graymalkin]

Swimming pool, lifeguard, Post apocalyptic SF
Swapping my trunks for overalls, I confirmed the ph with Sylvia before the six of us set about sowing the pool with squash, runners and a late variety of potato.

The Enemy had departed in their ships having murdered half the population to steal our precious soil.

So the pool seemed the logical place to gather our dead now, their blood and meal nurturing a few remaining lives still to be watched over and guarded.
A Tank, a ballet dancer, zombie horror

 

[Hummus]

A Tank, a ballet dancer, zombie horror

They were cornered at last; amongst rot and dry tears, blood and broken limbs.
The Enemies approached slowly through the mud; from one side, a rusted tiger tank; from the other, a gracefully dancing, breathing, independent woman.
Oh f*ck, the zombies thought, not keen to die twice, at least not now, not like this.

chopsticks, a bartender, urban legend

 

[Graymalkin]

chopsticks, a bartender, urban legend

The Licked Hand​

Full of his bar tips, Al flopped onto his bed, drifting in and out of sleep, to the friendly lick of his young Staffy Bert.

He dreampt of his fight with the restaurant owner -- how dare they call Al a racist -- and awoke with the notion to set Bert on him.

"Berty," his laughter cut short as he leant over to stare at a pair of decorated chopsticks, a red smear on his carpet and the sticky fingers of his hand

grasshopper, motorbiker and romance

 

[Daysman]

grasshopper, motorbiker and romance...

He'd told his wife he was repairing the bike for sale, but today, seeing the fully restored chopper on the drive, he knew he'd never let it go. It was too much a part of how they met and he said as much in the anniversary card he left on the kitchen table. Of course, he knew it was all okay when she appeared on the drive wearing her old leather jacket, with its grasshopper logo, and her usual come hither look.

hedge maze, beekeeper and magical realism...