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fist or no fist!
I found this site by way of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
edoran. It's called the drabble-matic and it works much in the same way that mad-libs works. Only better! And it writes a little drabble for whatever pairing you chose. It's friggin' HIGH-larious! Observe.
Mocking Love
Jack finished packing. Ever since Sawyer, his own true love, had been lost at sea, Jack had been disturbing.
There was nothing left for him anymore, nothing pushed him, all was hard. So today, Valentine's Day, he was going up against the wall to become a fetching mango.
Just then, there was a thick knock at the door. Jack opened it and stood there roughly for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising his neck.
When Jack came to, Sawyer was holding his lips and looking pungent. "My love," Sawyer said easily, "I'm sorry for the cracked shock. I've been shipwrecked on a dreadful island for the last ten years, living like an engine that won't turn until you find just the right part. I was only rescued last week." He paused. "I lost my fist in the wreck. Can you still love me?"
Jack could hardly believe his Sawyer had returned. "I will always love you, fist or no fist. Besides, you can cover it up with a gun."
They embraced briskly and vowed to never be parted again.
And all was filthy.
-fin.
and
The Hellhound Prince
Sam was walking through a dusty meadow, laughing at the butterflies flitting around his head when he spied a saucy little hellhound lying under a tree.
Sam skipped over to see the dear thing and was thick to find that he was hurt! A gun had pierced his salty little neck and he whimpered weirdly with the pain.
"My measly little friend," Sam said. "Let me help you!" He took out his Leatherman Multi-Purpose tool and pulled out the gun, as evilly as he could. The hellhound cried out and Sam's heart ached, like a musket without gunpowder and no finger on the trigger. "You'll be all right," Sam whispered. "I'll take care of you. I'll call you Dean and you can live with me forever!"
Scooping Dean up in his arms, Sam carried him home and made a bed for him beside his own. For seven days and seven nights, Sam nursed Dean, cleaning his neck and feeding him Axe-brand hellhound chow.
On the eighth night, Dean climbed into bed with Sam. He burrowed under the covers and drunkenly mashed Sam's chin. It made Sam giggle and he cuddled close to Dean, stroking his bicep and singing disturbingly to him.
They continued that way for a long time. Every day, Sam hurried home so he could curl up with Dean. It gave him a cracked feeling whenever Dean mashed his chin.
Then one night, Dean looked up at Sam and said, "If you kiss me, I will become a rusted prince."
Sam screamed heartily, he was so surprised. How could a hellhound talk? He must have dropped off and dreamed it.
"You're not dreaming," Dean said. "Kiss me."
"Don't tell anyone I screamed like that," Sam said and kissed Dean on his bicep. The air swirled and suddenly, there stood a rusted prince! With a crown and everything!
"I'm Prince Dean," he said. "I was cursed. It's a long story."
"Is it really you?" Sam said.
"See?" Dean said and showed Sam the scar from the gun on his neck. Then he kissed Sam and they tumbled behind a gun and did a lot of very rough things, some of them involving a hard door.
"I love you," Dean said when they were done. Sam clasped him close and they lived together happily ever after on all the prince treasure Dean had stashed away.
And if Dean didn't know about Sam's visits to the hellhound sanctuary, well, it wouldn't hurt him.
-fin
edoran. It's called the drabble-matic and it works much in the same way that mad-libs works. Only better! And it writes a little drabble for whatever pairing you chose. It's friggin' HIGH-larious! Observe.Mocking Love
Jack finished packing. Ever since Sawyer, his own true love, had been lost at sea, Jack had been disturbing.
There was nothing left for him anymore, nothing pushed him, all was hard. So today, Valentine's Day, he was going up against the wall to become a fetching mango.
Just then, there was a thick knock at the door. Jack opened it and stood there roughly for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising his neck.
When Jack came to, Sawyer was holding his lips and looking pungent. "My love," Sawyer said easily, "I'm sorry for the cracked shock. I've been shipwrecked on a dreadful island for the last ten years, living like an engine that won't turn until you find just the right part. I was only rescued last week." He paused. "I lost my fist in the wreck. Can you still love me?"
Jack could hardly believe his Sawyer had returned. "I will always love you, fist or no fist. Besides, you can cover it up with a gun."
They embraced briskly and vowed to never be parted again.
And all was filthy.
-fin.
and
The Hellhound Prince
Sam was walking through a dusty meadow, laughing at the butterflies flitting around his head when he spied a saucy little hellhound lying under a tree.
Sam skipped over to see the dear thing and was thick to find that he was hurt! A gun had pierced his salty little neck and he whimpered weirdly with the pain.
"My measly little friend," Sam said. "Let me help you!" He took out his Leatherman Multi-Purpose tool and pulled out the gun, as evilly as he could. The hellhound cried out and Sam's heart ached, like a musket without gunpowder and no finger on the trigger. "You'll be all right," Sam whispered. "I'll take care of you. I'll call you Dean and you can live with me forever!"
Scooping Dean up in his arms, Sam carried him home and made a bed for him beside his own. For seven days and seven nights, Sam nursed Dean, cleaning his neck and feeding him Axe-brand hellhound chow.
On the eighth night, Dean climbed into bed with Sam. He burrowed under the covers and drunkenly mashed Sam's chin. It made Sam giggle and he cuddled close to Dean, stroking his bicep and singing disturbingly to him.
They continued that way for a long time. Every day, Sam hurried home so he could curl up with Dean. It gave him a cracked feeling whenever Dean mashed his chin.
Then one night, Dean looked up at Sam and said, "If you kiss me, I will become a rusted prince."
Sam screamed heartily, he was so surprised. How could a hellhound talk? He must have dropped off and dreamed it.
"You're not dreaming," Dean said. "Kiss me."
"Don't tell anyone I screamed like that," Sam said and kissed Dean on his bicep. The air swirled and suddenly, there stood a rusted prince! With a crown and everything!
"I'm Prince Dean," he said. "I was cursed. It's a long story."
"Is it really you?" Sam said.
"See?" Dean said and showed Sam the scar from the gun on his neck. Then he kissed Sam and they tumbled behind a gun and did a lot of very rough things, some of them involving a hard door.
"I love you," Dean said when they were done. Sam clasped him close and they lived together happily ever after on all the prince treasure Dean had stashed away.
And if Dean didn't know about Sam's visits to the hellhound sanctuary, well, it wouldn't hurt him.
-fin
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The Battle For The Song
In a corner, Jack shouted his song. He had been busy with the song for hours and now wanted nothing more than a heroic cuddle or a mesmerizing massage from his lover Sawyer.
He said this last thought out loud, and all of a sudden his talented Sawyer appeared at the door, grinning amazingly.
"Put down the song," Sawyer said pleadingly. "Unless you want me to slap that song on your toenail."
Jack put down the song. He was sensual. He had never seen Sawyer so glorious before and it made him musical.
Sawyer picked up the song, then withdrew a shoebox from his nostril. "Don't be so sensual," Sawyer said with a glorious grimace. "A weasel bit my earlobe this morning, and everything became hilarious. Now with this song and this shoebox I can pleadingly rule the world!"
Jack clutched his lonely earlobe briskly. This was his lover, his talented Sawyer, now staring at him with a glorious nostril.
"Fight it!" Jack shouted. "The weasel just wants the song for his own talented devices! He doesn't love you, not the heroic way I do!"
Jack could see Sawyer trembling briskly. Jack reached out his toenail and touched Sawyer's nostril pleadingly. He was talented, so talented, but he knew only his lonely love for Sawyer would break the weasel's spell.
Sure enough, Sawyer dropped the song with a thunk. "Oh, Jack," he squealed. "I'm so heroic, can you ever forgive me?"
But Jack had already moved in a corner. Like a donkey that never shuts up, he pressed his toenail into Sawyer's nostril. And as they fell together in a hilarious fit of love, the song lay on the floor, musical and forgotten.
This place is amazing. I love it!
*jane*
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That's the best piece of literature ever written! LMAO. OMG. *dies from the laughter*
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Oy, I used to LOVE mad-libs! ♥♥♥
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Heh, I typed "my work here is none" first. Which is a lot more true. *snort* ;)
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Haha, crack like that in the morning is just about what the doctor ordered *holds stomach laughing*
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Here's what I got:
The Adventure Of The Tiger
John and Jo were out for a strong Valentine's walk on a desk. As they went, Jo rested her hand on John's stomach. It was the most romantic walk ever. But even though the day was so burning, John was filled with vital dread.
"Do you suppose it's relaxing here?" he asked roughly.
"You steady silly," Jo said, tickling John with her shoe. "It's completely gorgeous."
Just then, a slow tiger leapt out from behind a boot and touched Jo in the mouth. "Aaargh!" Jo screamed.
Things looked pretty. But John, although he was fast, knew he had to save his love. He grabbed a bed and, like the world stopping on its hinges, beat the tiger wearily until it ran off. "That will teach you to touch innocent people."
Then he clasped Jo close. Jo was bleeding tenderly. "My darling," John said, and pressed his lips to Jo's butt.
"I love you," Jo said strongly, and expired in John's arms.
John never loved again.
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Nothing tastes better than unrequited love
Warm Lang Syne
Jared sipped huskily at his drink and stood warm behind a swiss army knife. He wasn't sure why he had come to this New Year's Eve party in the first place. He was no good at parties anyhow. They always made him feel soft and he ended up like he was now, hiding and hoping nobody noticed how hairy his hand got when he was nervous.
Well, truth be told, Jared knew very well why he was at the party: to see Jensen.
Ah, Jensen. Just the thought of him, the chance of a glimpse of his wet neck made Jared's heart beat like a wet match.
But tonight everyone was masked. Jared peered gingerly through the crowd, trying to guess which guest was Jensen. There, he thought, the man over by the shot gun, the smooth one with the budgie mask. It had to be Jensen. No one else could look so hard, even in a budgie mask.
He began to walk Jared's way and Jared started to panic. What if he actually talked to Jared?
Jensen came right up to Jared and Jared thought that he was going to faint.
"Hello," Jensen said tenderly. "What are you doing over here all alone?"
"Oh, just looking at the teddy bear," Jared said and immediately wanted to die because that sounded so calloused.
Just then, a windy voice began to count down. "Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven ..."
Jared's heart leapt. If they were together at midnight, that meant that Jensen might ...
"Happy New Year!"
Jensen swept Jared into his arms, bent him through the air, and kissed Jared sweetly, slipping him the tongue and groping his tongue.
Jared could hardly believe it. How wonderful! And now that it was after midnight, it was time to take their masks off. He reached out harshly and pulled Jensen's mask off his face. It was Jensen! "I knew it was you," Jared said and took his own mask off.
"And it's ... you," Jensen said. "You know, I'm just going to go get some punch."
Jared watched him go. He would be right back, Jared was sure. Just as soon as he had his punch.
And then they would fall in love.
Re: Nothing tastes better than unrequited love
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A Shotgun In Time
On a horny and naughty morning, Jo sat on the back of the Impala. It was Valentine's Day and she was all alone. Her neck ached in sorrow for the secret love that she could never share. How could she expect Dean to love someone with a singing vagina?
Boldly, she began to recite a poem she had composed. "Ah, my love is like a frail bad stone, all on a summer's day. I wish my Dean would kiss me, in his own cute way..."
"Do you?" Dean sat down beside Jo and put his hand on Jo's breast. "I think that could be arranged."
Jo gasped sensually. "But what about my singing vagina?"
"I like it," Dean said unexpectedly. "I think it's sexy."
They came together and their kiss was like Ellen's smile when she watched porn with Ash.
"I love you," Jo said soon.
"I love you too," Dean replied and kissed her.
They bought a DVD, moved in together, and lived joyously ever after.
-finito
LOL.
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"And all was filthy." - The perfect ending to anything Jawyer! ;)
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I was laughing so hard.
I love this drabble-matic thing.XD