Short stories of the Damned

[Duchess of Doom]

I have an idea  :idea:

Let's write short stories, strange twisted short stories. Each
story under a psuedonym.  Then we publish the book
under the name of 'Short stories of the Damned.'

Of course we would all write the stories logged in under
our real discordian names so we could receive proper credit and money!

What do you think?

[Wishfarple]

Once upon a time, there was a puppy named Bink.  Bink was a good puppy!  He never pissed on the carpet, or gnawed too heavily, or barked all freaking night.  He played and yipped and chased his tail and also things that were not his tail.

One day, Bink met a man named Yu.  Yu was kind of a jerk, so he cooked Bink in a pot and ate him up.  That was mean, but Bink was given new life inside Yu's tummy by the elder gods of terror and hatred, and ate the heck out of Yu's intestines.  Needless to say, Yu barfed up Bink, who peed zombie-pee on Yu's head and left.  

Moral of the story?

Yu can't keep a good dog down.



[WARNING: story might have involved a bad pun.  Go back in time and don't read it if you hate that.]

[Ben]

A Matter of Life and Death
Once upon a time there was a person who did many things then died.
THE END.

[fluffy]

i'd write one
but i only do bedtime stories

i think roger's mr. stevie
should be your lead story

it would help sell the book
if people read that first

after all
i heard gnimbley going around
muttering "that damn roger"
after reading the story
so it must be a natural
for a book of the damned

[chaosgraves:agentoferis]

Space Low-life Thought Sequencers Contaminting Global Meme-network

Case History: Epsilon Sigma-14 "The Cross Man"

The "Man" carries a foll size crucifixion device on his "endless" crusade to "witness to the masses". The rants that he believes to be the word of "God" are transmissions from a supra-dimensional satellite array stationed in near hyperspace in a low earth orbit on a duality metaplane frequency. due to massive misimprint trauma of the mythic psychocircuitry ,of the subject, warnings become a high noise thought burst that becomes intertwined on the symbolic level with "armegedeon" symbology.

His dire predictions involving the " True Identity" of the "Anti-Christ" is misimagined as George "Dubya" Bush. the actual Message was to read "The man Known as George "Dubya" Bush is being fed false reality parameters by a sub standard nexus entity and may act in diametric opposition to the true quality of his spiritual nature".

The major poblem in this occurance seems to be that those who percieve the filtered message dismiss the information as "lunitc ravings" rather than disecting the situation that allows for the truth to come out. As he tries to spread the theory to others some who should heed the words only turn a deaf ear.

[LazyGoatfucker]

i think roger's mr. stevie
should be your lead story

it would help sell the book
if people read that first

I concur!!!

Fnord fnord fnord!!

[East Coast Hustle]

Fucking bastards. I can't let them get away with it. If I don't put a stop to it now, it'll just be that much uglier when this all comes to a head. I'm going to go find them. I'm going to seek them out and systematically exterminate them, like you would any common termite or roach. And they're going to know why before they expire. They're going to know what it felt like...the fever...the mad, exhilarating rush of blood to your head...the blood pounding in your temples...raging hard-on, bulging veins, bugging eyes. Yeah, they're gonna know what their indifference has cost the world. They're finally going to see the end result of their denial-based mentality. How else to explain it? How else could they possibly justify what they did? How could they just sit there, indifferent, while I hacked a whole room full of people to death with a chainsaw?



Oh.





They were already dead you say? Just leftovers from the last go-round?

Ah, well, forgive me friends...you know I tend to get myself a little worked-up from time to time...

[LMNO]

::high fives TCT::

[East Coast Hustle]

*bows*

[Bella]

Demonica will be so proud of you all.  

[Felix]

One time I saw a guy boil a whole turkey in oil.  It was one of those 55 gallon drums, full of it.  I hear it was used for radioactive waste, because when they turkey came out, it was an evil psychic ghost turkey, and it destroyed them all.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I have an idea  :idea:

Let's write short stories, strange twisted short stories. Each
story under a psuedonym.  Then we publish the book
under the name of 'Short stories of the Damned.'

Of course we would all write the stories logged in under
our real discordian names so we could receive proper credit and money!

What do you think?

WAY ahead of you...

http://principiadiscordia.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=5515

[Irreverend Hugh, KSC]

I'll do it, but only if I can bring the goat head out and show the neighbors.

[Bob the Mediocre]

There's something in my mirror. Mom asked me why I hid it in the basement yesterday. She brought it up again that night, "after all, it was a present from us."

I could hear it gibbering from the bathroom when I was brushing my teeth. I snuck into my room, trying not to creak the floorboards, trying not to breathe, trying not to let the baseball bat I clutched to my heart tap the walls in the dark. The mirror welcomed me back, although it was too dark to see and I knew I hadn't made a noise.

It said, "Petey, you can be great, you know that. You will be an avenging angel for those who renounce me, and the descendants of those who trapped me here. Blood will rain from the sky and the rivers will run with bile. All you need to do is help me."

It felt like I was breathing fire. I could feel my heart beating under my ribcage, moving blood around, but still my arms felt weak. I could not let this abomination get free. I could feel it tempting me somehow, somehow that had nothing to do with the voice that continued unabated, telling me of my reward for freeing it.

Filled with hatred, I hefted the bat I still held in my thin arms. I summoned up all the strength I could and swung the cold metal at where I knew the mirror was. I felt the shards impact my naked flesh, and felt the hot trickle of blood just before the sting of pain.

From the darkness came a voice. "Thank you for setting me free, Petey."

[The Good Reverend Roger]

i'd write one
but i only do bedtime stories

i think roger's mr. stevie
should be your lead story

it would help sell the book
if people read that first

after all
i heard gnimbley going around
muttering "that damn roger"
after reading the story
so it must be a natural
for a book of the damned

Thanks, Bunny!