The JPP Novel

Mott the Hoople

Mott the Hoople

Sweet Jane
Let's write a JPP novel where we all just contribute a few paragraphs/chapters at a time. The most difficult part of writing a group story like this is maintaining a central plot. So I'll choose a plot. Ours will be "Watermarks deep dark secret"

Begin.
 
Mott the Hoople said:
Let's write a JPP novel where we all just contribute a few paragraphs/chapters at a time. The most difficult part of writing a group story like this is maintaining a central plot. So I'll choose a plot. Ours will be "Watermarks deep dark secret"

Begin.
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"Watermarks deep dark secret is that he wants to Lynch Yurt."

Next??
 
It was a dark and stormy night! Wow, what a cliche way of starting a book. I mean I'm angry and I want my readers to be mad as hell and want to throw the book at me. What better way to start then with a tired old cliche like "It was a dark and stormy night." Well fuck that. It wasn't dark and it wasn't stormy. It was a typical hot, humid southern day in the delta. You know the kind where it's to hot to exert yourself so you sit around on your porch drinking day old ice tea or cheap beer while wearing your wife beater t-shirt and your converse high tops. So you sit on that porch and you stew. You stew about the injustice of the world and it's inevitable unfairness. You stew about the hot red head next door that blew you off with a moi of disgust when she see's you like she stepped on a dog turd. You stew about the crazy old man who stands in front of the Piggly Wiggly trying to sell Jesus to a bunch of half witted peroxide blondes in capris. All that heat and stewing around can make you angry, real mean angry, but that's not what I"m pissed off about.
 
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Yurt said:
one fine spring morning, USF walked out the closet.....
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"one fine spring morning, USF walked out the closet and said "No Yurt, you can't have sex with my chickens. Now stop asking and get out of my walk in closet". Then Yurt began to cry, again."
 
USFREEDOM911 said:
"Well, at least I kind of got us back on track", the engineer said; as the locomotive slowly began to creep forward.
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Suddenly there was a massive explosion, and everyone on the train was instantly killed in a blast of fire, coal, and twisted metal. From behind his monitor, Watermark viewed the debris and the long stretch of now missing track. More people would die before word got out of the incident. He smiled and laughed audibly. Then he typed into his IM window, Grind, I am truly incredible. The quick reply came back. Uh, okay... Good to know. Why eaxactly are you incredible? Watermark cackled to himself. Turn on the news in 20 minutes. I think we're about to see the workers rise up against the rail industry. Long live communism! Grind didn't respond, as he hadn't bothered waiting for a response before getting up and running off to an important rendezvous about his DeathPool group. Watermark leaned back in his chair, bringing up pictures of Paul Krugman he had saved. He began to masturbate furiously.
 
Mott the Hoople said:
It was a dark and stormy night! Wow, what a cliche way of starting a book. I mean I'm angry and I want my readers to be mad as hell and want to throw the book at me. What better way to start then with a tired old cliche like "It was a dark and stormy night." Well fuck that. It wasn't dark and it wasn't stormy. It was a typical hot, humid southern day in the delta. You know the kind where it's to hot to exert yourself so you sit around on your porch drinking day old ice tea or cheap beer while wearing your wife beater t-shirt and your converse high tops. So you sit on that porch and you stew. You stew about the injustice of the world and it's inevitable unfairness. You stew about the hot red head next door that blew you off with a moi of disgust when she see's you like she stepped on a dog turd. You stew about the crazy old man who stands in front of the Piggly Wiggly trying to sell Jesus to a bunch of half witted peroxide blondes in capris. All that heat and stewing around can make you angry, real mean angry, but that's not what I"m pissed off about.
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Monkey #1, banging on his keyboard....turns to the other 999,999 monkeys and says "Next!"......
 
these threads never work. it always consists of 50% that try to ruin the story and 50% that have no sense of humor. O_O
 
Mott the Hoople said:
It was a dark and stormy night! Wow, what a cliche way of starting a book. I mean I'm angry and I want my readers to be mad as hell and want to throw the book at me. What better way to start then with a tired old cliche like "It was a dark and stormy night." Well fuck that. It wasn't dark and it wasn't stormy. It was a typical hot, humid southern day in the delta. You know the kind where it's to hot to exert yourself so you sit around on your porch drinking day old ice tea or cheap beer while wearing your wife beater t-shirt and your converse high tops. So you sit on that porch and you stew. You stew about the injustice of the world and it's inevitable unfairness. You stew about the hot red head next door that blew you off with a moi of disgust when she see's you like she stepped on a dog turd. You stew about the crazy old man who stands in front of the Piggly Wiggly trying to sell Jesus to a bunch of half witted peroxide blondes in capris. All that heat and stewing around can make you angry, real mean angry, but that's not what I"m pissed off about.
Click to expand...

What pissed you off is that someone stole the last piece of cake. And you wanted that cake. As rivulets of sweat roll down your back, staining the already stained wife-beater shirt, you plot your revenge. Someone was going to pay.
 
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