Here's what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don't know how realistic it is, but that's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out.
If you are one of the carriers of this story virus (i.e. you have been tagged and choose to contribute to it), you will have one responsibility, in addition to contributing your own piece of the story: you will have to tag at least one person that continues your story thread. So, say you tag five people. If four people decide to not participate, it's okay, as long as the fifth one does. And if all five participate, well that's five interesting threads the story spins off into.
Not a requirement, but something your readers would appreciate: to help people trace your own particular thread of the narrative, it will be helpful if you include links to the chapters preceding yours.
I hunched down to see what it was, but as I did, the bus violently veered to left. I was thrown up against a heavyset Asian woman with blond hair. I pardoned myself, but she faced forward with no reply. Just then, a man wearing a jumpsuit of silver and gold stood up at the front of the bus. He was holding a megaphone and a box of graham crackers. He held the megaphone up to his face and began to speak... (Some Guy)
As is evident in many of my comments, I like to make up stories so I was thrilled when Some Guy tagged me this week to participate in a story virus. From what I've heard coming out of the CDC, the virus started when man of many blogs and interests, Splotchy, went outside in the freezing cold with wet hair. After that, well, you know how it is here on the Internets - we hardly ever go outside, accumulating germs like Pokemon cards, and once we're sick we medicate with whiskey - so yeah, this thing spread like wildfire.
I'm not good at following instructions so I sure as hell can't regurgitate them. Here they are as originally posted by Splotchy:
- COMMENCE -
The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn't prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me. (Splotchy)
"Yukon Cornelius was the greatest prospector that ever lived!" Waving the box of graham crackers over his head, "And the silver and gold nuggets in this box were mined by him at the North Pole!"
It was then I noticed the box under the seat was also filled with graham crackers. Not name-brand ones made by the tree-dwelling elves, but the generic kind that come in white boxes meagerly labeled in big black letters: GRAHAM CRACKERS. Probably made by a guy named Butch who masturbates at lunch and doesn't wash his hands.
"And I had a whole bunch more right here on this bus until one of you misfits stole it! Gimme back my silver and gold!"
As I contemplated the man's sanity the bus stopped at a red light, throwing the woman next to me into a fit of rage. Before I knew what was happening she had tossed me out of her way onto the floor and was lunging for the kook with the microphone. Her wig flew across the aisle as she jumped on the man's back and sunk her toothless gums into his shoulder. The two of them went down like a pine tree headed for a Boy Scout lot.
The driver, startled by the commotion, looked up into his overhead mirror, accidentally removing his foot from the brake, and the bus rolled into the busy intersection.
- FIN -
We're watching you.
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