Mexi's Finger-Lickin' Story-Startin' Contest(Yeehaw)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
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This is my first ever contest!

Submitted: September 07, 2009

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Submitted: September 07, 2009

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Listen up, everybody!
I have my first ever contest, so here goes it,
1) From the little story starters below, you must write a piece that begins with the first sentences written there. You can exclude some of the end sentences if it suits you, i.e. if the sentence was, “he didn’t want to jump, but he had to, because of his dog”, you could exclude”because of his dog” if you didn’t want your story to involve that.
2) It can be anything; an article, a riddle, a novel…If it is a novel, I will only count the first chapter or, if you notify me, the second chapter.
3) Leave a comment stating what your piece is called and which story-starter you chose. Don’t tell me what it’s about, though!
4) The prizes are;
1st prize; I’ll send a fan request, include your story on my user and advertise as yours, of course. I will comment on everything new you have and advertise you in comments to other people.
2nd prize; I’ll send a fan request and comment on the next six pieces you write. I will also advertise you.
3rd prize; I’ll send you a fan request, and comment on four of your current pieces. I might also advertise you.
5) Please, keep it PG. No extreme gore, sexual scenes or profanity…I don’t really go for that stuff.
 
The Story Starters
1) If anyone were to ask me which of my parents I preferred, I would probably say my father. After years of being treated as, “the prodigy”, I don’t think I could look my mother in the face without feeling the need to slap it.
2) It was an inky night, but it was even darker underneath my skin. I could see the tavern light on down the road, speckling the cobblestones with yellow light. I knocked on the battered door, and, upon no answer, opened the crude door handle, made of a piece of leather and rope.
3) “He’s hot.”
“So? You’re too young.”
“But…he’s hot.”
“So? You’re too young.”
“But...he’s hot.”
“How many times am I going to say this? We’re here for the book signing, not so you can drool all over his argyle jumper, you spazz!”
4) “Let me…go!” I say, kicking out at the guard. His stomach feels like a wall. His face looks like a wall.
They lower me into the chair, and I gnash my teeth as they restrain my arms and legs. I’m not going anywhere. I see a familiar face standing outside in the viewing room; he has come too late. He has come at the very moment I am going to be killed.
“Daniel?”
5) It’s like, ugh, you know what I mean? Four weeks of sitting in cow crap in WhoCaresVille with some stuffy old ancients. I’m not, like, gonna do anything.
Rumour has it they don’t even have a freaking television.
 
That’s the stories, good luck!
Byee!
Mexi


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