You guys are ****in' cowards. You can't wait for inspiration. Inspiration is a stingy bitch that only comes around when none of her other booty calls are picking up, and she always makes you wrap it up.
If you wanna write, you've just gotta ****ing write.
Like, here, I'll write a story in like five seconds.
Colossus
"I got a huge dick you know."
WWWP snorted a laugh through her beer. "Yeah? How big?"
Hawk gave her a grin that could eat all the **** right out of an asshole factory. And leaned back in his chair with outstretched arms, cheap wood creaking underneath the weight of his old-dude gut. "Huuuuuuuuge."
"Oh sure." She dropped her bottle back to the table. Spun it around a couple times on the soaked napkin she had been using as a coaster. The wet paper finally tore, little bits of white sticking to the sweating brown glass. "Even my dog's probably got a bigger dick than you."
Passing by in time to hear the last, Batlord made sure to bump into her in a sort-of-unintentional-but-not-really way as he hoisted two massive jugs of something purple and possibly acidic back to his table. "Bet you know a lot about your dog's dick."
At the sound of his voice, she instinctively lashed out in a Pavolvian response, sending a slap in his direction. Instead of a chubby cheek, she got a handful of the raw potatoes that Mindfulness was holding for some reason.
He responded with a smile. And a picture of a shrugging celebrity that he just happened to be carrying in his pocket.
"Okay seriously I'm sorry about that but what the **** is up with those potatoes Mindy?" asked WWWP, unable to contain her laughter.
"Damn," chuckled Hawk. "Dos some big taters. Almost as big as my cooooock."
"Lololol don't worry," grinned Mindfulness, with that sort of innocence that just made you feel like a ****head bully for ever calling him out on anything. Sort of like an autistic child. "I know they're raw. I'm not gonna eat them. Lololol."
WWWP held back on her instinct to smack-a-bitch. "Okay that's great but what are they for?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"Yes what?"
He stuck a hand down the front of his pants.
"Woooaaahh, what the f-"
His hand came back out, gripping another picture; a snapshot of Laughing Drake high-fiving a rare pepe.
She threw up her hands, almost knocking over her beer. "Forget it. Just ****in' forget it."
"You know what you won't forget?" asked Hawk, loading up his piece-of-**** $20 revolver in the off chance that a passerby happened to invade his dog's personal space. "My cock. And how huge it is."
She turned to him with a sigh, eyes wide with a mixture of impatience and amusement. "You know what Hawk? How 'bout you shut the **** up about your baby penis? How 'bout that, huh?"
He grinned. Seemed to consider her words for a moment. And finally leaned foward, giving her an 'ay-come-closer' nod, as if preparing to divulge a secret.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh ****ing what?"
"Do you like planting tulips?"
She didn't consciously smash the bottle over his face; it seemed to move all on its own, sending him to his ass and shattering into a brilliant cloud of glass that almost seemed to make a rainbow as it caught the lamplight above.
Exo stumbled over with a "Psssh," and a hearty laugh. "What're we, in a ****in' movie? As if bottles actually shatter like that when you hit someone with 'em."
"Movies suck!" yelled someone in the corner. Probably Elph. ****in' dork.
"I like movies," shrugged Hawk, snapping the chamber of his revolver into place. "They're larger than life."
WWWP immediately turned to him with a glare. "Don't."
"And you know what else is larger than life?"
"NO."
"My co-"
The table flipped with a crash.
The first bullet hit the lamp, turning the struggle into a dance of inky shadows.
The second bullet hit one of Mindfulness's potatoes. "YES!" he beamed, leaping out of his seat and tossing the rest of the vegetables into the air. "They really can stop bullets! L-I-F-E-H-A-C-K!"
And the third bullet? That one finally found home.
Though which home, I can't say. Because this is actually one of those artsy Horror movies that Frown loves, and thus the ending must be...
C-O-L-O-S-S-A-L-L-Y A-M-B-I-G-U-O-U-S
Fin!
See? Easy. Ten more minutes, and I could really give you some Pulitzer ****.
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