(Psst: Looking for a title? Hit "CTRL+F" or "CMD+F" to quick search!)
Asterisks = Author's Favorites. Brackets: Genre
Titles in Alphabetical Order:
*12 Billion Eyes [Drama]
A Realistic Fighting Cartoon [Prose, Experimental]
Ad Council [Humor]
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and the Pillsbury Dough Boy [Humor]
*Alight Romance [Romance]
All You Wanted Was a Cookie. [Humor]
Alone Again [TO COME LATER]
Another Misguided Lamb [Humor]
AT&T VS. TMOBILE [Humor, Fanfic?]
*Blood Trails [Humor, Drama]
Brandchael [Humor]
Bunny Cafe [Humor, Murder Mystery]
The Bus is Late [Humor]
Chunks (It's About a Lesbian That Eats Her Own Vomit) [Humor]
*Cookie Clicker: The Movie [Humor, Script]
The Corner of Carl's Jr. [Humor]
Crab People [Humor]
Ephemeral [TO COME LATER]
*Fladeboe [Xkybo]
The Hash-Slinging Slasher [Horror]
*Hi [Horror]
Himchan Miracle Story [Humor]
Hotel Apocalypse [Humor]
I Gotta Feeling [Humor]
Joker&Bane: Friends4lyfe [Humor, Fanfic]
Mecha-Hitler 2.0: The Infinity Reich [Humor, Sci-Fi]
Megan's Adventure [Humor]
Mint Chocolate Sushi [Humor]
Mushroom Soup [Horror]
*Naruto [Humor, Fanfic]
Only You Can Prevent Wildfires [Humor]
*Oscar [Humor]
Paper Trails [TO COME LATER]
*Samuri the Last [Humor]
Story Title [Humor]
Superman Loves the Sun [Humor]
Tales from the Mushroom Forest
Unrecognizable [Humor]
*The Wonderful World of Wombats [Humor, Informational]
Author's Note
Oct 14, 2013
Sep 17, 2013
UPDATE: Proof that I'm Still Writing
Woah, whaaaaat? Three weeks without a new story? And back-to-back update posts? You can't be serious.
Oh, but unfortunately, I am, dear readers. I am really, really sorry about how long this stories post is taking. I didn't anticipate it to be so much work. Even though it's similar to my names story, it's actually a thousand times harder because I actually have to conceptualize each story, as opposed to "(Your Name Here)," where I could base stories off memories.
Plus, I'm now a Junior in high school, which has certainly added to my workload and I've been getting involved with the San Diego Film Festival, so my free time is very rapidly diminishing. I only have two or three hours a day to work on stories, so I'm only finishing two, maybe three stories a day at max, which is HORRIBLE.
I really do feel bad for taking this long to write a story, so as a sort of consolation, here's a sneak preview of one of the stories in "(Untitled)." One of my favorites.
Oscar
"And the Oscar for 'Best Written Non-Sexualized Supporting Actress Personality' goes to..." Justin Timberlake panted into the microphone. Andy nervously bounced in his seat. He was one of two nominees and he was sweating from anxiety. Was he about to win his first Oscar?
Justin Timberlake tore open the envelope. "Oh god..." he said under his breath. "Andy Wasillakowski!" Timberlake said unenthusiastically.
"HELL YEAH!" Andy screamed as he stood up. Nobody around him clapped. He faced Kenny (the other nominee), made a circle with his index and thumb, brought the shape down to his groin, and humped it repeatedly. "SUCK MY DICK, KENNY. EAT SHIT," he screamed. Kenny, who was only seven years old, started sobbing.
Because the Oscars were live, the entirety of America saw and heard what Andy said. But Andy didn't care. He wanted to relish in his fame.
He sprinted down the steps toward the stage, slapping the back of James Franco's head on his way, sending James Franco's toupée flying into the people who sat in front of him. James Franco, who was only seven years old mentally, also started sobbing.
Andy stepped foot on the stage and snatched the microphone out of Justin Timberlake's hands. "WOOOOOOOOO!" He screamed into the mic. He tapped it a few times with the palm of his hand, saying "Is... is this on?" as he did so. The crowd in front of him nodded in displeasure.
He cleared his throat. "About time I've started getting recognized for my work. I knew from the start that I would win this because my movie's awesome, and Kenny sucks balls and should kill himself." In a distant corner of the venue, Kenny's wails could be heard.
"So, since I knew I was gonna win, I decided to write out exactly what I needed to say in thirty or so seconds on this here piece of paper." He pulled out a piece of lined paper from his inner jacket pocket, then cleared his throat again.
"Thanks a bunch to that nerdy old Liam McClencherton, AKA Stinky Pits, for letting me cheat off his tests in film school and for being a good sport about all the nutshots and the Sharpie tattoos drawn on his face while he slept, and the superglue on his pubes. Thanks a bunch, Liam!" The crowd was appalled, except for Seth MacFarlane, who burst a blood vessel from laughing.
"Mom, dad, thanks for giving me money for film school, even though I dropped out Sophomore year and used the rest of my tuition money to support my heroin addiction. No thanks to Maria Masterston, who refused to go with me to prom. I hope nobody finds out you have every STD known to mankind-I mean, oops!" he said sarcastically. At this point, the entire crowd wanted Andy dead. Gary Oldman actually whipped out his pistol and aimed it at Andy, but Christopher Nolan stopped him at the last minute.
"Jordan, you still owe me five bucks, you two-faced bastard. Nicole, I think this Oscar right here is plenty enough reason to dump your scumbag boyfriend and come have sex with me." At this point, Nolan regretted saving him and gave the gun back to Gary Oldman. However, it was in vain, as Gary Oldman had already fainted from Andy's rudeness. Thankfully, Andy only had ten seconds of speech left to give.
Andy's mouth went to maximum overdrive. "9/11 was an inside job, Hitler did nothing wrong, I think the civil rights movement was a mistake, women should be viewed as objects, I occasionally steal from charity collection boxes, eugenics is a wonderful idea. Good night, everyone!"
Everyone was furious. Several gunshots were fired at Andy, but Andy dodged all of their bullets and tap danced off-stage. He used his Oscar as a pretend cane and his tap dance shoes made an obnoxious "click clack" noise as he went behind the curtains and disappeared. The uproar of the crowd drowned out the lovely orchestral music they play at the end of every speech.
Andy quickly ran out of the venue and dove into the taxicab waiting for him outside. He took off the realistic, Mission-Impossible-style rubber mask on his face and revealed his true identity as Matt, the guy that Andy pissed off in 5th grade.
Matt cackled as he looked at the mask in his hands. "Revenge is a dish best served cold, Andy. Hope stealing my crayons was worth PUBLIC HUMILIATION!"
Matt drove away, throwing the mask out of the cab's window.
Oh, but unfortunately, I am, dear readers. I am really, really sorry about how long this stories post is taking. I didn't anticipate it to be so much work. Even though it's similar to my names story, it's actually a thousand times harder because I actually have to conceptualize each story, as opposed to "(Your Name Here)," where I could base stories off memories.
Plus, I'm now a Junior in high school, which has certainly added to my workload and I've been getting involved with the San Diego Film Festival, so my free time is very rapidly diminishing. I only have two or three hours a day to work on stories, so I'm only finishing two, maybe three stories a day at max, which is HORRIBLE.
I really do feel bad for taking this long to write a story, so as a sort of consolation, here's a sneak preview of one of the stories in "(Untitled)." One of my favorites.
Oscar
"And the Oscar for 'Best Written Non-Sexualized Supporting Actress Personality' goes to..." Justin Timberlake panted into the microphone. Andy nervously bounced in his seat. He was one of two nominees and he was sweating from anxiety. Was he about to win his first Oscar?
Justin Timberlake tore open the envelope. "Oh god..." he said under his breath. "Andy Wasillakowski!" Timberlake said unenthusiastically.
"HELL YEAH!" Andy screamed as he stood up. Nobody around him clapped. He faced Kenny (the other nominee), made a circle with his index and thumb, brought the shape down to his groin, and humped it repeatedly. "SUCK MY DICK, KENNY. EAT SHIT," he screamed. Kenny, who was only seven years old, started sobbing.
Because the Oscars were live, the entirety of America saw and heard what Andy said. But Andy didn't care. He wanted to relish in his fame.
He sprinted down the steps toward the stage, slapping the back of James Franco's head on his way, sending James Franco's toupée flying into the people who sat in front of him. James Franco, who was only seven years old mentally, also started sobbing.
Andy stepped foot on the stage and snatched the microphone out of Justin Timberlake's hands. "WOOOOOOOOO!" He screamed into the mic. He tapped it a few times with the palm of his hand, saying "Is... is this on?" as he did so. The crowd in front of him nodded in displeasure.
He cleared his throat. "About time I've started getting recognized for my work. I knew from the start that I would win this because my movie's awesome, and Kenny sucks balls and should kill himself." In a distant corner of the venue, Kenny's wails could be heard.
"So, since I knew I was gonna win, I decided to write out exactly what I needed to say in thirty or so seconds on this here piece of paper." He pulled out a piece of lined paper from his inner jacket pocket, then cleared his throat again.
"Thanks a bunch to that nerdy old Liam McClencherton, AKA Stinky Pits, for letting me cheat off his tests in film school and for being a good sport about all the nutshots and the Sharpie tattoos drawn on his face while he slept, and the superglue on his pubes. Thanks a bunch, Liam!" The crowd was appalled, except for Seth MacFarlane, who burst a blood vessel from laughing.
"Mom, dad, thanks for giving me money for film school, even though I dropped out Sophomore year and used the rest of my tuition money to support my heroin addiction. No thanks to Maria Masterston, who refused to go with me to prom. I hope nobody finds out you have every STD known to mankind-I mean, oops!" he said sarcastically. At this point, the entire crowd wanted Andy dead. Gary Oldman actually whipped out his pistol and aimed it at Andy, but Christopher Nolan stopped him at the last minute.
"Jordan, you still owe me five bucks, you two-faced bastard. Nicole, I think this Oscar right here is plenty enough reason to dump your scumbag boyfriend and come have sex with me." At this point, Nolan regretted saving him and gave the gun back to Gary Oldman. However, it was in vain, as Gary Oldman had already fainted from Andy's rudeness. Thankfully, Andy only had ten seconds of speech left to give.
Andy's mouth went to maximum overdrive. "9/11 was an inside job, Hitler did nothing wrong, I think the civil rights movement was a mistake, women should be viewed as objects, I occasionally steal from charity collection boxes, eugenics is a wonderful idea. Good night, everyone!"
Everyone was furious. Several gunshots were fired at Andy, but Andy dodged all of their bullets and tap danced off-stage. He used his Oscar as a pretend cane and his tap dance shoes made an obnoxious "click clack" noise as he went behind the curtains and disappeared. The uproar of the crowd drowned out the lovely orchestral music they play at the end of every speech.
Andy quickly ran out of the venue and dove into the taxicab waiting for him outside. He took off the realistic, Mission-Impossible-style rubber mask on his face and revealed his true identity as Matt, the guy that Andy pissed off in 5th grade.
Matt cackled as he looked at the mask in his hands. "Revenge is a dish best served cold, Andy. Hope stealing my crayons was worth PUBLIC HUMILIATION!"
Matt drove away, throwing the mask out of the cab's window.
Sep 4, 2013
UPDATE: Delays
Okay, so I got caught up in a flood of work during the last few days of summer break, so I didn't have as much time as I wanted to work on 40 STORIES. So, I'll be delaying the release of the titles story to next Wednesday, September 11.
Sorry on the wait! I just want to make each story as good as possible!
Sorry on the wait! I just want to make each story as good as possible!
Aug 29, 2013
On the Threshold of Life and Death
And I'm dead. In the center of my school's quad, I lay on the ground, bleeding while everyone around me panicked from the sudden noise of a gun going off.
It didn't hurt, save for the split second when the bullet pierced the roof of my mouth. Strangely, even though I'm still fully conscious, I can't feel the pain of the shot. I can feel the cold gunmetal in my hands, I can feel the side of my body touching the rough concrete ground, I can even hear the sobs of the other students. But I can't feel the pain of the shot.
I heard it's because of a survival mechanism, where if we get hurt suddenly, chemicals rush into our brain and we won't feel pain for awhile so we can get away from whatever's attacking us. I guess that makes sense.
Interesting thing, suicide. Movies always show it as instantaneous. One second, you're alive. The next, bam. Eternal darkness. Or an afterlife, reincarnation, whatever. But the truth is, nobody really knows how long it takes for your consciousness to die. So I'm just as surprised as you that I can still see what's happening around me. I can still hear what people are saying. I can still feel the blood dripping from my mouth. I can taste it too. I hate it.
The bullet tore through my brain. My heart stopped beating a long, long time ago. But my consciousness still lingers. On the threshold of life and death, my consciousness still lingers.
It didn't hurt, save for the split second when the bullet pierced the roof of my mouth. Strangely, even though I'm still fully conscious, I can't feel the pain of the shot. I can feel the cold gunmetal in my hands, I can feel the side of my body touching the rough concrete ground, I can even hear the sobs of the other students. But I can't feel the pain of the shot.
I heard it's because of a survival mechanism, where if we get hurt suddenly, chemicals rush into our brain and we won't feel pain for awhile so we can get away from whatever's attacking us. I guess that makes sense.
Interesting thing, suicide. Movies always show it as instantaneous. One second, you're alive. The next, bam. Eternal darkness. Or an afterlife, reincarnation, whatever. But the truth is, nobody really knows how long it takes for your consciousness to die. So I'm just as surprised as you that I can still see what's happening around me. I can still hear what people are saying. I can still feel the blood dripping from my mouth. I can taste it too. I hate it.
The bullet tore through my brain. My heart stopped beating a long, long time ago. But my consciousness still lingers. On the threshold of life and death, my consciousness still lingers.
Aug 22, 2013
UPDATE: Crowdsourcing
Some of you might have noticed that the "Ask Box" has disappeared from the page listings above. I removed it because my Tumblr's been glitching out and hiding anonymous questions from me when I'm on the computer. I can only see the questions on my phone, which is really inconvenient since I don't want to check my phone just to answer questions.
So, as an alternative, I've decided to make an Ask.fm account. Same basic procedure goes, ask me any question anonymously and I'll happily answer it. You could also send it to my Tumblr ask box, but if you're anonymous, realize that it'll probably take more than a day for me to answer it.
Speaking of anonymous user input, I'm having another crowdsourced story! Remember the "(Your Name Here)" story I wrote a few months ago? Well, this next story will be similar to that one, but instead of you guys submitting names, you'll submit story titles. Send in any title for a story and I'll write a short story based on it! My only limitation is that you don't submit anything sexual, but other than that, feel free to be as creative as you want with the titles! Submission deadline for the story titles will be August 30, at 11:59 PM! The titles story comes out on September 4!
TL;DR: Send in your story titles to my Ask.fm and I'll write a story on it. I won't write anything sexual and the deadline to send in titles will be August 30, at 11:59 PM. All of the stories I wrote based on the titles you guys submit will be released as one huge blog post on September 4!
Go submit titles!
So, as an alternative, I've decided to make an Ask.fm account. Same basic procedure goes, ask me any question anonymously and I'll happily answer it. You could also send it to my Tumblr ask box, but if you're anonymous, realize that it'll probably take more than a day for me to answer it.
Speaking of anonymous user input, I'm having another crowdsourced story! Remember the "(Your Name Here)" story I wrote a few months ago? Well, this next story will be similar to that one, but instead of you guys submitting names, you'll submit story titles. Send in any title for a story and I'll write a short story based on it! My only limitation is that you don't submit anything sexual, but other than that, feel free to be as creative as you want with the titles! Submission deadline for the story titles will be August 30, at 11:59 PM! The titles story comes out on September 4!
TL;DR: Send in your story titles to my Ask.fm and I'll write a story on it. I won't write anything sexual and the deadline to send in titles will be August 30, at 11:59 PM. All of the stories I wrote based on the titles you guys submit will be released as one huge blog post on September 4!
Go submit titles!
Aug 21, 2013
Trapped in Sharknado
"Wait, wait, wait, slow down, Richard," Doyle interrupted Richard mid-sentence. Richard panted, exhausted from the two-block sprint he just ran from his house to Doyle's. "You made a what?"
"It's a DVD player that puts you in whatever DVD you play in it," Richard gasped in between breaths. Basil entered the living room with a coffee mug in his hand. He took a small sip, recoiled from the heat of the drink, and blew into the coffee to cool it down.
"How'd you do that?" Doyle asked as he leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza on his living room table.
"Do what?" Basil asked while blowing into his mug. Richard sighed, but the other two mistook his sigh as heavy breathing from exhaustion.
"He made a DVD player that puts you in the universe of whatever DVD you play on it," Doyle explained, chewing with his mouth open.
"Seriously? Like inside the universe? Can you interact with everything?" Basil asked
"Yes!" Richard exclaimed as he threw his arms up and fell back on the couch's backrest. "You can interact with everyone and everything! You can even change the storyline!" Doyle did a fist pump.
"YES. Let's go try it out! I'll go grab a few DVDs," Doyle said as he ran to his bedroom.
"It's a DVD player that puts you in whatever DVD you play in it," Richard gasped in between breaths. Basil entered the living room with a coffee mug in his hand. He took a small sip, recoiled from the heat of the drink, and blew into the coffee to cool it down.
"How'd you do that?" Doyle asked as he leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza on his living room table.
"Do what?" Basil asked while blowing into his mug. Richard sighed, but the other two mistook his sigh as heavy breathing from exhaustion.
"He made a DVD player that puts you in the universe of whatever DVD you play on it," Doyle explained, chewing with his mouth open.
"Seriously? Like inside the universe? Can you interact with everything?" Basil asked
"Yes!" Richard exclaimed as he threw his arms up and fell back on the couch's backrest. "You can interact with everyone and everything! You can even change the storyline!" Doyle did a fist pump.
"YES. Let's go try it out! I'll go grab a few DVDs," Doyle said as he ran to his bedroom.
Aug 14, 2013
Clarence Porter: Urban Survivor
Clarence was awakened by the sound of crickets chirping beside his ear. Startled, his eyelids burst open and immediately clamped shut from the intensity of the sunrise. A long blade of grass, nudged by the wind, reached over the top of Clarence's head and fiddle-tickled his nose. He sniffled one. Then twice.
And a cricked jumped up from the ground and onto his lips as Clarence let off the single most powerful sneeze known to man. The cricket was not only killed, it was vaporized, since it's a well-known fact that crickets aren't designed to travel in speeds excess of Mach 10.
Clarence stood up and licked the cricket guts from his face. He needed all the protein he could get if he wanted to make it out of the plains and into the big city before sundown. He picked up his backpack and camera and started walking towards the figure of a city in the distance. He pointed the camera to his own face and hit record.
"I'm Clarence Porter. And I'm gonna teach you how to survive in the world's most dangerous artificial habitats. Our next stop: Chicago, Illinois."
And a cricked jumped up from the ground and onto his lips as Clarence let off the single most powerful sneeze known to man. The cricket was not only killed, it was vaporized, since it's a well-known fact that crickets aren't designed to travel in speeds excess of Mach 10.
Clarence stood up and licked the cricket guts from his face. He needed all the protein he could get if he wanted to make it out of the plains and into the big city before sundown. He picked up his backpack and camera and started walking towards the figure of a city in the distance. He pointed the camera to his own face and hit record.
"I'm Clarence Porter. And I'm gonna teach you how to survive in the world's most dangerous artificial habitats. Our next stop: Chicago, Illinois."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)