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*DUN DUN DUN*

OH THE SUSPENSE!

The girl he loves returns...how romantic...

Keep Going Gantic!

KingRyan

*blinks at ryan* Wasn't it his inspiration that returns? Of course, that could be a girl...

I've missed your writings, Gantic.

I've missed your writings, Gantic.

If you could guess the intent of this thread, then you would best not continue reading, because it is neither rewarding nor dissatisfying less you lead your heart and mind astray. Though I'd like to infuse some life to writings and pull them out of inanity, for the lack a more apt word, I won't. The Stranger needs something to read while everyone's away. And I'm quite surprised that ROaTNO has over 1000 views when it only had 983 when I checked a week ago with the intent of posting. The old stuff continues getting views. From where did those extra 110 views come since the last post? Google?

But people are too hung up on longer works, when with their twists, should focus first on flash fiction. Minimalism at its finest, but I choose to inflate. Some of it doesn't count as flash fiction, just a joke or nothing at all, like this next one:

Cranberry and Coffee
There is a tall porcelain cup filled to the brim with coffee in your hands. It's handle is long, curving gently down the side like a sputtering spout of porcelain. The steam and aroma are overwhelming, but what about the cranberries? They're sour, yogurt sour, and red, cerise even. Then how is it you are thinking about blueberries and raspberries? Three blueberries, deep purply blue, four raspberries, bright red like maraschinos. Oh wait, there are two maraschinos, too. All around a triangular puff pastry lightly dusted with powdered sugar sitting on a porcelain plate. Two blueberries and a raspberry sit against the upper right edge, a raspberry and blue berry push against the longer left edge, and the other two raspberries are just lying about on the third edge. The maraschinos are sitting on top. The plate rests on a brown-orange carpet with short shag in between a simple brick fireplace and a four seat table set. Careful!

If you could guess the intent of this thread, then you would best not continue reading, because it is neither rewarding nor dissatisfying less you lead your heart and mind astray. Though I'd like to infuse some life to writings and pull them out of inanity, for the lack a more apt word, I won't. The Stranger needs something to read while everyone's away. And I'm quite surprised that ROaTNO has over 1000 views when it only had 983 when I checked a week ago with the intent of posting. The old stuff continues getting views. From where did those extra 110 views come since the last post? Google?

I understood the first half of the paragraph, mind saying the rest without the riddles?

The thing about nanofiction I like is that it will require more words to summarize the story than to write it. Funny how that works. Take this first entry as I consider my answer to "What is a noob?"

noob homicide: Former debate champion convicted.

Of course it can't compare to Hemingway's "For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn." Should there be a nanofic writing contest? Much easier than anything else.

This next one is unrelated to the previous entry.

The Biggest n00b

Disclaimer: All characters in the above are completely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons are intentional and approved by all persons associated.

Disclaimer: All characters in the above are completely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons are intentional and approved by all persons associated.

*blinks at ryan* Wasn't it his inspiration that returns? Of course, that could be a girl...

A Red Motor

I once had a red motor that didn't work properly. It was marred too, re doormat. (Using it to bridge a gap to a door wasn't a smart idea. A mat would have had a tamer odor.) I then realized its artistic value and considered it for an art demo or something, but the art people told me to do more art. Like they knew anything about door art. Me and Tom swore to dream or rot. Made me think about how I had my arm rooted in modernization, so we made a OMO retard to the engine, but it fell apart. Said Tom: Err? Ado about nothing! That's what it is. We'll never get into an art room, Ed. Moral: A red motor is useless. Then a moderator banned me after figuring out my code.

The Raptor Survival Club

I was the only one prepared. I had the vision. The sole surviving geneticist was successful in creating an adult-height theropods, raptors we called them, to eliminate the zombies. Initial trials were promising. Field tests were phenomenal. We celebrated until Ian realized that zombies don't reproduce. Henry, the geneticist, had disappeared in the midst of the party. Maybe he knew the raptors would need a new food supply. Zombie tactics were useless. Shotguns, chainsaws, makeshift cudgels. I was prepared. I had plans for Raptor-proof doors and barricades. Once the fortifications were built, we started building Robots to eliminate the Raptors.

Then a moderator banned me after figuring out my code.

My wordplay is too advanced for you. :P Not entirely witty though.

Reaching Out to Touch No One

"That's bull, man," the keeper said. He was right. It was bull. Not even I would believe what I said. "There's no space, cowboy, and you know it." That I did. Strange how it was though. The stranger thing was that I was usually keen on such things. "Are you even listening to me? There's no room for your stallion, man."
I mounted and called out, "Hey, Star! Straddle ready to go?"
"Yeah."
After we rode out a fee paces I said, "Must be bad luck. Bronco busters filled up the place."
"Yeah," she replied.
"Well I wasn't going to eat crow. Man! Did you hear him say man?"
"Yeah," she said.
"I will never admit to anything, let alone lying."
"Yeah. I know."

I could never finish more than half those bloody cryptic crosswords anyway...here's my notes so far:

Ado about nothing- possibly related to Much Ado About Nothing?

OMO is a brand of washing powder.

Red motor makes me think of a much ruder, definitely offensive to several people, I-can't-possibly-explain-myself-here joke.

And that's what throws me off so hard that I can't start.

I am completely confused.

And so I ate a chicken pie and walked across the street in a tutu.