Heya folks. This is Katie typing for Bri, so if there's any mistakes it's my fault not hers (you can decide about the antecedents).

The completely new fascinating extraordinary hard-wearing long-lasting story:

Characters:

• Maid -- Joselyn Franks
• Carriage driver -- Louis Stein
• Butler -- Led Fred (Now know as Dead Led Fred, due to the fact that he is dead. Or, rather, was dead. He is now a zombie)
• Cook -- Mrs. Emma Franks
• Gardner -- Herb Greene

Basic plot: Dracula has left his castle (to move to Florida and join the Light Side), but his servants still remain. Parody of horror movies ensues.

And now to the story!

~~~

"Dear Dead Led Fred," the letter began, "I fear I harbor sorrowing news. As thou slumbered through reality and drifted off into death, thine son Not Dead Led Fred hath fallen upon the darkest of times. No longer doth he see the vibrancy of life; it is but the stark grayness that haunts him now. His true love hath abandoned him for another, and his horse hath died. Please send replacements.

Yours in utter admiration, love, &tc.,

You Know, Her"

Louis looked up from the letter. "Been readin' too many romances, has she?"

Dear Dead Led Fred sighed. "Yoooooou shoooould heeeear heeer taaaaaaalk."

"Austen's really done a number on 'er, eh?"

"Yeeeeeeeeesssssh."

"Is she really called 'You Know, Her'?"

"It's reeeeeallly Wilaaaaaamenaaaaa Annaaaaabel Loreeeen Haaarrrrts Wiiiiimble Daaaarrrrvis the teeeeeenth, but I maaaade her chaaaange it to saaaave iiiiink."

"So what're y' gonna do?"

D.L.F shrugged resignedly and tossed the letter on the fire. "Whaaaat caaaan I doooo?"

Le Story

Or rather, a story.

"Hoy, Anne, get me the big ax, would you?" Jim Harlun called. He was he hired help on the farm, and was currently trying to decide how to remove a tree from a soon-to-be field.
Anne walked over to the shed, wondering when she had become the designated fetcher. She'd been running hither and yon and back across the farm, bringing everything from twigs to cows to her various family members.
"Aww, hi there, Johnny," she crooned at the brown cat curled up near the shed door. He glanced up, noted she was not carrying food, and went back to sleep.

She went stumbling through the darkness, hands waving about, simultaneously trying to find the axes and not get themselves cut on something.
Oop, there's the woodpile, she thought as wood went tumbling everywhere. Bending down, she began piling the logs back up.

~~~
Ugh, noise. Why was there always noise? Derek opened his eyes.
There was a humungous beast looming over him, no doubt to eat him. Everything wanted to eat him. He was just that awesome.

But he wasn't going to become someone's breakfast, even if it would be the best breakfast ever. Yelling at the top of his lungs (to warn the others, he told himself), he went scurrying home to defend it from this monster.

Hmph...lots of people defended their homes from under the bed!

~~~
"Oh! Sorry there," Anne exclaimed as a completely terrified mouse zoomed across the floor.
Poor thing... no wonder John's at the door. She replaced the last log and grabbed an ax.
Staggering back to the door, she opened it and was momentarily blinded by the sun...

~Thing 1

Story

Hi everyone! This is just a random (REALLY random) story I have been writing for a while, and I just thought someone at least might want to read it if they have a bored moment. Goodness. How unlikely is that gonna be?? ;)  A bored moment. Humph. I wish...

Bri

Peter wanted to buy a house. This meant that be needed more money. Peter thought and he thought and he finally decided to get a job. He wanted to work for a construction company so that when his house was built, he would be able to fix any problems that it might have. He applied for jobs in many construction companies around town, and finally after being berated by so many employers, he was accepted into the 'We-No-Pay Construction Ltd.' Peter likes his new job, but there was only one problem. The name of the company spoke the truth. This company definitely did NOT pay it's workers. The workers were very happy because they all loved building houses for other people. Peter liked building houses too, but not THAT much, and besides, he needed money to pay for his new house. So he decided to quit his hard-earned job, and apply for a job at the local Dairy Queen. He decided that even if this job did not pay very much, he might be able to sneak a few licks from the customer's cones to keep his appitite satisfied. His application was submitted, and Peter sat around in front of the TV waiting for a call or an email from the Dairy Queen saying that he had gotten the job. Finally, after a few days of anxious apprehension, he got a letter from the Dairy Queen that went like this:

Peter:                       August 27, 2008

We are sorry to inform you that-- (and here Peter stopped reading, threw the lettter on the counter and resolved never to read it)

The next week, after a great many hours of researching local job opportunities on the Internet, Peter recieved an email from the Dairy Queen. It went like this:

At 10:05 PM, September 3, 2008 'Dairy_Queen' <dairy.queen@gmail.com> wrote:

Peter:

We are wondering if you recieved our letter. We had requested a meeting with you, but if you would prefer not to accept the job, there is a long waiting list, so please say so now.

Thanks,
Dairy Queen

Peter raced around his parent's house (as he now called it, because unfortunately, he had no house of his own) looking under the furniture, through the pages of books, in the pockets of all his jeans, looking for the letter. Then he finally caught a glimpse of that beautiful red teardrop shape (DQ) as he went sprinting through the kitchen. He skidded to a halt, and promptly fell flat on his bottom. He quickly got up, red in the face, and read the letter. It went like this:

Peter:                       August 27, 2008

We are sorry to inform you that, as you have been accepted for the job, we could not send along the 'free ice cream' coupon that we usually give as a consolation. We request a meeting with you on September 2, 2008, just after closing time (3:00 PM) to show you your responsibilities as a cashier, and to discuss a schedule. Please let us know, at your earliest convenience, whether or not you are going to accept the job.

Thanks,

-- Management

Peter lept up off of the chair that he had plopped into just moments before, gave a loud yell of something sounding only remotely like the word 'yes' and immediately collapsed back into the chair and closed his eyes. After a few moments, Peter awoke with a start, and began to rummage around in his clothset for something suitable to wear to Dairy Queen when he went to accept his job. He found many t-shirts, and many pairs of cargo shorts, but sadly, he did not find the button-down shirt and slacks that he had been hoping to find there. He was only sad for a moment though, because he DID have a rather remarkable rock concert t-shirt collection, and he figured that one of his most prized Metallica t-shirts would do just as well as a hoity-toity, button-down one, and well, jeans would just have to do, as he did not have the time, money or inclination to go shopping for slacks. He dressed quickly, hurriedly splashed some water on his hair and face, and even attempted to get a comb through his hair, but soon gave it up as a lost cause. He jumped into his old pick-up, (he was very proud of this truck, as he had removed the muffler himself) gave it a little pat on the steering wheel as he climbed in, and drove off towards the Dairy Queen with his head dripping wet, his seatbelt still not completely buckled, and noting with the utmost satisfaction that his truck still made the loudest noise on the road. A few minutes later, he roared into the parking lot of the beautiful red-roofed palace (as he now called it) walked into the restaurant and up to the counter. Immediately be demanded to see the manager. The cashier, who was a pretty brown haired girl, just stared at him. He was quite a spectacle. Here was this random guy, who had just about shattered the windows with that infernal racket from his truck, and who had a drpping wet head, with his hair partially combed on one side, asking to see the Manager. He also had on a t-shirt (thankfully) which she guessed was from some band, but she had definitley never heard of it, and from the look of the t-shirt, definitley did not want to. After a few moments, she gave a small nod, with her eyes still fixed on Peter, and her mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Then she turned on her heel, and hollered "DAAAAANNNNYYYY!!!" into the back room. A few moments later, a man dressed in exactly the same clothes that Peter had WANTED to find in his clothset that morning, emerged from the back room. He walked up to the counter, looked Peter over, and said "Yes? How can I help you?" Peter, who was now wishing that he HAD gone to the store in search of slacks, said "Uhh, well, um, I'm the guy you hired the other day" The Manager now had a stern look on his face, but Peter thought he could see a hint of amusement in his right eye. Or rather, Peter hoped he could see a hint of amusement in his right eye. "Are you really?" said the Manager, "Well then, which one are you?" Peter, who was now utterly confused, said "Which what?" "Which guy I hired the other day! I hired several, you know" said the Manager.

Peter, who's brain was moving pretty slowly... Much slower than usual, said "Well, I guess I am not Sevral, so I must be the other one" the Manager hid his face in his hands, and gave a heavy sigh.  Peter, who had no idea what he had done, was hurriedly trying to think of what he had done wrong. He was also trying to straighten his tie, which he seemed to forget he wasn't wearing. In short, Peter had left the little bit of a brain that he usually carried with him, in his truck. Finally, the Manager looked up and said, "Okay, just Tell. Me. Your. Name. " Peter suddenly ealized what the Manager had been wanting. "Oh!" he said "You can call me Peter" Then the amused flash returned to the Manager's eye. "Ah yes! You are the one who graduated from Harvard and won six Nobel prizes?" Peter, who had been regretting some of the answers on his application sheet for some time now, said, "Uh... yeah... That would be me..." Then the Manager said "And you were also valedictorian at New Trier?" "Uhhh... Sure" said Peter, who could not remember exactly what he had put on his application. "Well then," said the Manager, "Come on in and I'll show you around" Then he opened the swinging gate for Peter, gave a small nod of his head as Peter passed, and began to show him around.

"Here is the ice cream machiene" he said, pointing at a huge metal thing with a bunch of knobs an hoses on it. Then he pulled a cone out from the top of the machine, and pushed one of the knobs. Almost like magic, the come began to fill up with ice cream. "Holy Fish Paste!" yelled Peter. "How'd you DO that?" The Manager laughed, "Its easy!" he said, "you just push the knob in, and swirl around the cone so the ice cream is EVENLY distributed. Then he began to eat his cone. "Can I try it?" asked Peter eagerly. "Okay" laughed the Manager, "But be careful not to overflow the cone TOO badly". "Sure" said Peter "How hard can it be?" The Manager paused mid-lick, and looked Peter straight in the eye "Oh... You'd be surprised" So peter took a cone from the top of the machine, gave it a little twirl in his fingers, and pressed the knob. The cone began to fill with ice cream very quickly... Much more quickly than Peter was expecting, so that be ended up with a huge and rather lopsided cone. "See? Piece of cake" he said. "Suuure... Piece of cake" said the Manager, looking at Peter's cone and trying not to burst out laughing.

"Alright, that's pretty much all you need to know" said the Manager, as he polished off his cone. "Now we can discuss payment: minimum wage is $7.50 an hour, so how does $8.00 an hour sound?" "Wow... $8.00 an hour... That's great!" Peter replied, "It's much more than anyone's ever paid me!" "Hmmm..." mumbled the Manager "and him graduating from Harvard too... Strange... very strange"

The next week, Peter tryed not to be too anxious about his new job. I mean how hard could it be, right? He knew how to fill an ice cream cone, and the Manager had said that was pretty much all he'd need to know. So, on September 11, 2008, Peter, now dressed in a  newly purchaesd dress shirt and slacks, stood in the bathroom, trying to get a conn through his hair. This time it went a bit better than last time, and he got the entire top three inches combed before he gave it up as a lost cause. Then he went out to his truck, and gave it a thourough cleaning with the garden hose. Then, as soon as he was finished cleaning the truck, he opened the door, gave a little pat to the steering wheel as he climbed in, and started up the engine. He roared off the the Dairy Queen at 8:57 AM, precisely.

After he roared into the parking lot about two minutes late, he began to worry about what his first day of real, live, work would be like. He worried about EVERYTHING, from the ice cream machine blowing up, to the French fry machine boiling over. (he didn't actually know if it was even possible for the French fry machine to boil over, but it sounded dramatic, and therefore, it was a good thing for him to worry about)
He sat in his truck, worrying for two more minutes, until finally, he made a decision that if he never went in, he would never be able to see what having a PAID job was actually like. So, in he went, and as soon as he walked in, he noticed that pretty brown-haired girl, staring at him again, with her mouth hanging slightly open. She followed him with her eyes until he walked through the swinging gate. Then her mouth fell completely open, but she closed it quickly, and turned her head to deal with a customer who had just walked in. The Manager came out of that room in the back, which was evidently his office, and said "Look who it is! Well Peter, are you excited about your first day of work?" Peter, who didn't really know what to say to this, as he wasn't really that excited, he was mostly terrified, ended up saying "Well, I was excited this morning, but... Now I guess I am just really scared"

Evidently, this was the wrong thing to have said, as that brown haired girl snorted and starter cracking up, right as a customer walked in, and the Manager just looked confused. "Well," said the Manager, "I guess I'll have you start by shadowing Rebeckah here" Peter had no clue what 'shadowing' meant, but, he decided that he would be able to figure it out eventually. It had the word 'shadow' in it, so it must have something to do with a shadow. "Okay" he said, and he went to stand in Rebeckah's shadow. It was hard, he discovered, to stand on someone's shadow. He guessed that the Manager had put him to this task because it would be good for him to learn how to concentrate. He was trying very hard to concentrate, but it was hard, especially since Rebackah kept talking to him.

Finally, he figured out that if he looked at her, and smiled and nodded whenever she turned around to talk some more, that she stopped talking much more quickly, and he was able to get back to standing in her shadow. He ended up doing an elaborate sort of dance with some smiles and nods thrown in randomly. When the Manager came out from his office, Peter did not even listen when Rebeckah started talking. He used every ounce of concentration he could muster to stay in her shadow. He began to wonder why Rebeckah was even talking to him, if it made is so much harder for him to concentrate. Then, he decided that it MUST be a ploy set up by the management to discover how well he could concentrate. When Peter finally stole a look at the Manager, he saw a look of total bewilderment on the Manager's face. 'CONCENTRATE!!' Peter told himself sharply 'He's trying to confuse you!'

So, Peter concentrated even harder. After a few minutes of this, the Manager burst out laughing, Rebeckah paused mid-lecture, and Peter stopped with one foot hovering in mid-air, and everyone looked at the Manager. "No, no, no!" cried the Manager, "You don't have to stand in her shadow, you just have to follow her around and learn the ropes!" Peter looked around for the ropes but he didn't see any. "Oh," he said, "Okay." Then, as soon as the Manager went back into his office, Peter whispered to Rebeckah "Where are the ropes?" Rebeckah sighed, pointed out that there weren't any ropes, and that it was just an expression. "Oh..." said Peter disappointedly, "Well, what am I supposed to do then??" Rebeckah sighed again, and said "You just have to follow me around and learn how we do things here." "Oh, okay" said Peter, "sounds easy enough"

"First things first:" said Rebeckah "your job here is to take orders. Basically, all you have to do, is type in the customer's order at the cash register. Then, when they finish ordering, you print out a reciept, and give it to them to sign, and then, you take it back, an keep it, and print out another copy for them to keep. " "Okay," said Peter "so I pretty much print out a few copies, and hand them back and forth a few times??" "No, no, no!" said Rebeckah

See you (most of you anyways) soon!

Bri

Story

It took Derek approximately two minutes to reach his home; a somewhat large living space the humans called “shed”. Derek and his family had placed their home here because humans almost never stopped by. At night, Derek and his family usually slept within a tiny space concealed beneath a banged up stack of wood. The inside of the shed was dark, vacant; massive cobwebs hung from the sloping ceiling. It got loud in here when it rained; the sound of the water was amplified due to the metallic roof, which had originally been green when they first moved in but today brown with rust.
Derek, his family, and his friends were able to enter the shed due to the rotted hole in its side. The wood panels around this hole were worn and chipped, begging for paint. Derek hopped through the hole and was now sure of his safety; the cats, even if they did know where he was, would never be able to fit through that hole.
The smell of mold filled Derek’s tiny nostrils. He liked the smell, it made him feel safe from whatever mother nature might decide to drop upon them.
It was late. Really late. Nobody rushed to greet him. Derek didn’t want to wake anybody, so he snuck up to the corner of the woodpile to his right and curled up in a ball. Ahh, warmth.
His mother would probably be concerned with his late return, and would give him a hard time when he awoke. Didn’t matter. Derek loved his family, they were amazing.
He didn’t sleep the whole night, and when his mind finally did wonder off into darkness, he dreamt of Lickey Mouse fighting at his side against an army of blood thirsty cats…
Just wait until I tell Hannah what I did tonight...

Story

Well, thought Harold, one of the brown cats that had taken up the rear of the little entourage, We can't have this, now can we? Letting a mouse get away with a stunt like that was simply not done.
With a murmured 'Mrrow' he snuck after the offending creature, who seemed rather oblivious to the four remaining felines.

That went rather well, Derek told himself, in case he'd missed it, I shall have to tell Hannah about this. Won't she be impressed! Fought off an entire cat army, all by myself, my goodness, how heroic! Wait a minute... why was his back warm all of a sudden?
Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Alright, maybe he hadn't fought off the whole army.

A rather large pair of cat eyes was staring at him in a most distressing manner (they seemed to be wondering whether ketchup or mustard would better suit this little scrap of meat before them).
"Er- oh look!" Derek pointed at the sky in amazement. "A distracting thing!"
The great gob of fur looked up for a moment, and that was all it took for Derek to be unequivocally out of there.

by: Filthy S. Bilgerat

The Story

Confronted with the cat, Derek felt fear taking him over. Well, thought Derek, what would Lickey Mouse do? He would… he would find a weapon and battle the cat! Derek looked around. What he saw was not encouraging. Grass, nuts, leaves, an ant hill, several small pebbles, a flat piece of wood [apparently used by Humans for making nests - a silly way to go about it!], and a biggish rock. Derek thought hard. He didn't have much time before the cat - who was currently occupied in knocking another cat over [maybe an intimidation technique to use on his next prey?] - decided to get serious about dinner.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. He heaved the wood onto the rock, centered it, and placed a pebble at one end of the wood, with the others piled neatly beside the contraption. Then, he waited.

With a 'mrow', the cat [whose name, by the way, was Sanders] prowled towards Derek. What's this? thought Sanders. This little pipsqueak is too frightened to even run? Darn it, that's no fun! He was disappointed; he'd thought that maybe he could get a little exercise to cancel out the fatty mouse-meat. His doctor had been nagging him about losing weight, and maybe then his feline fancy, Felice, would pay more attention to him.

Sanders was shaken out of his revery when he felt something sharp hit his back. Approaching, he was pelted by tiny pebbles. Enraged, he was about to pounce on the mouse when one particularly sharp-edged rock hit his eye, temporarily blinding him. Yowling in pain, he scurried off, avoiding the stares of the other cats as he admitted defeat.

Derek was ecstatic. His invention had worked! He wasn't in the stomach of a cat! Maybe he was a little more like Lickey Mouse than he'd thought. Humming happily to himself, he pranced off further into the forest.

~Lexi

Hello!

Greetings everyone!

I'm Lexi. I'm 14. I met Nora this summer, and she very kindly invited me to be part of this blog. I thought I should introduce myself, as I don't know the rest of you. I live in New York, and enjoy reading, singing, knitting, and learning languages. I homeschool and have done so for four years.

Lexi / apple.girl

Love vs. Obsession

Definition of love:

1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
3.
1. Sexual passion.
2. Sexual intercourse.
3. A love affair.
4. A strong predilection or enthusiasm: a love of language.
5. The object of such an enthusiasm: The outdoors is her greatest love.
4. An intense emotional attachment, as for a pet or treasured object.
5. A person who is the object of deep or intense affection or attraction; beloved. Often used as a term of endearment.
6. An expression of one's affection: Send him my love.
7.
1. A strong predilection or enthusiasm: a love of language.
2. The object of such an enthusiasm: The outdoors is her greatest love.
8. Love Mythology Eros or Cupid.-- Dictionary.com



Definition of love: 1) a. (1) a strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties. (2) attraction based on sexual desire; affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) affection based on admiration, benevolence or common interests. b. an assurance of love. 2) a warm attachment, enthusiasm or devotion. 3) a. the object of attachment, devotion, or admiration. b. a beloved person. 4) a. unselfish loyal, and benevolent concern for the good of another (1) the fatherly concern of God for man. (2) a brotherly concern for others. b. a person's adoration of God. 5) a god or personification of love. -- Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary

Definition of love: to be fond of, or desire. 1) a deep and tender feeling of affection for or attachment to or devotion to a person or persons 2) an expression of one's love or affection 3) a feeling of brotherhood and goodwill toward other people 4) (a) a strong liking for or affection (b) the object of such liking 5) (a) a strong, usually passionate, affection of one person, for another, based on sexual attraction (b) the person who is the object of such an affection; sweetheart; lover 6) (a) God's benevolent concern for mankind (b) man's devout attachment to God -- New World Dictionary of the American Language


Definition of affection: a state of feeling. 1) emotional state or tendency; disposition or feeling. 2) a fond or tender feeling; warm liking 3) a disease ailment 4) an attribute or property of a thing -- New World Dictionary of the American Language

Definition of obsession: 1) the act of an evil spirit in possessing or ruling a person 2) (a) the fact or state of being obsessed with an idea, desire, emotion, etc. (b) such a persistent idea, desire, emotion, etc. especially one that cannot be got rid of by reasoning.

Definition of obsession: 1) a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling. 2) an emotion or idea causing obsession. -- Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary


Definition of obsession:
–noun
1. the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.
2. the idea, image, desire, feeling, etc., itself.
3. the state of being obsessed.
4. the act of obsessing.
[Origin: 1505–15; < L obsessiōn- (s. of obsessiō) blockade, siege, equiv. to obsess(us)
-- Dictionary.com



Bible definition of love:

Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices at right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge it will pass away.

Quotes
"You call it madness, but I call it love" ~Don Byas

To me, Justin's side was calling it madness, and Emma's side was calling it love.

"All love that has not a friendship at it's base is like a mansion built upon the sand" ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Heathcliff and Cathy's whatever-you-want-to-call-it (obsession/love/something-or-other) definitely had a friendship at the base of it, because they were basically brother and sister, and they had a long history of getting into trouble together, and, after so many shared experiences, it is kind of impossible NOT to have a friendship.

"Infantile love follows the principle 'I love because I am loved'
Mature love follows the principle 'I am loved because I love'
Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you'
Mature love says 'I need you because I love you'"

~ Erich Fromm

What do you think?? Mature or immature??

Bri



PS. EVERYONE WHO READS THIS AND HAS AN OPINION, PLEASE RESPOND!! (if you aren't in the British Literature class, I am sorry... but it is a very interesting discussion topic, and I just had to post this stuff)

This is an illustration of the current point in our story... minus the 'cats' cuz they didn't fit in…

Posted with LifeCast

My Cat

My cat Flier 

does not play the lire

unless he was faking 

when he said he was baking

Notifications:

Please let me know if you would like to be notified every time there is a new post. (I can also have this thing let you know whenever there is a new comment, too) just tell me what you want, and I'll see you on (or before) Tuesday... Goodness, that's coming up quickly, isn't it... Sigh... And my essay isn't even written yet... Lol...

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Wuthering heights:

Wuthering heights is a confusing book,
To sit and read in a nook,
Please do not come take a look,
Unless you wish to be caught by a hook.

Catherine and Cathy,
Heathcliff is nasty,
You'd think Isabella,
Wouldn't like such a fella,

She should have been smart,
From the very start,
And trusted Cathy,
When she said he was nasty.

Now, that is all that I can write,
So I will leave, and say 'Good night!'


-- Bri





Posted with LifeCast

The Story

Derek got the feeling that he could use the help of Lickey Mouse at the moment. Despite the fact that the gang of cats still had their eyes on the ground and hadn’t yet thought to look up the tree where Derek hid, he still felt afraid. Even in the warm night, he felt slightly cold…
He had recalled a time when someone had told him of Lickey Mouse and his bravery. Apparently the rodent had wielded a long, shiny rod with a sharpened end; there was a hole on the other end, perfect for a mouse paw to fit into and grasp. These things weren’t easily found. The only place to find them were in the homes of the humans…they used them for something they called “sewing”. Derek couldn’t quite recall what they called the actual thing that Lickey was famous for using as a sword…what was it? Needle. Something like that. Either way it was a great weapon for Lickey, who used it to battle cats and other creatures that enjoyed to eat mice for dinner…the mouse was a legend. Everybody across the countryside knew about him. His popularity mainly came from the time he had…
Derek’s thoughts were cut off when he caught a sparkle of light in one of the cat’s green eyes. When it saw him the orange cat froze like a garden ornament made of stone.
Derek started to become nervous. He remained still.
If only he had the courage of Lickey Mouse at a time like this.

A Vote

What do you say, we take a vote,
Since Katie and I already wrote,
Go ahead! put down the remote,
Come fill this space with some fine quote,

So leaving you, to decide,
Between your thoughts, and in your mind,
You are free to choose either side,
On whichever your feelings do abide

Should we continue the story of a mouse,
Or continue on with that of a house?
Or write whatever comes to mind,
Containing thoughts of any kind,

Now I should be quite glad,
If the thoughts of some fine lad,
Would fill this blog with nothing bad,
Thoughts will not ever make me mad!

Please! Please! Tell me your choice!
Yell it out in a loud clear voice!
Fine writing, you know comes at a price,
And giving suspense isn't nice,

So please, oh please, clear up this smog,
Tell a story about a dog
If you don't, I fear this blog,
Will move slower, than a bog.

If I sound like Dr. Seuss,
Please come quick! And bring a noose,
But don't forget to tie it loose,
So I can ride off, on the back of a moose.

-- Bri

Now I fear, I am stuck as a poet,
I am not afraid to show it,
When someone comes to say 'I know it!'
I think they will be the one to blow it

I am sorry if this made no sense,
But please come back ready to fence,
And don't be afraid of getting dents,
For your refund of five cents



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Limerick

Ladies and Gentlemen,
Step Right Up,
Write a little,
And I'll shut up.

The Story

Trying to muffle the screech rising in his throat, Derek dove under the nearest leaf and willed himself to not shudder. The owl asked for Hoo several times, whooshed about for a bit, apparently searching for Hoo, before flying off.
Pff, all this, he thought, just a little bitter, and I didn't even get any Honey Seeds. Bother. Next time I'll-
Someone was coming, and not just another mouse: the ground he was standing on was shaking.
Great, what now?
Hoping that the owl hadn't decided to check back in on Hoo, he scampered up the tree that had provided his original shelter and tried to see what the approaching danger was. It was terribly dark, he was terribly frightened, the thing was terribly dressed in black. Goodness, what was it, a black cat front with a grey cat back and brown cat spots? Ugh, whatever it was it was ugly.
Ah, well, that explained it. It was a black cat, in front, a grey cat taking up the rear, and several smaller brown cats in the middle.
What were cats doing in this part of the country? Derek had always thought that cats had gone extinct round here, no doubt due to the heroics of the legendary Lickey Mouse- or something like that. He was pretty sure that was the name... after all, his Pa had told him that the hero had 'Licked the cats good,' which had probably mussed the cats' hairdos so much that they'd either died of horror or run screaming to their Mummy.
Maybe he should follow them... you know, to be the next Great Big Hero... or be lunch.
No, he took that back; he'd be dinner at this time of night. Hmm.

The Story

Derek had already heard his mother's call when he turned around to find that he had no idea where he was. He had been gathering nuts and berries for the winter, and had wandered off in search of some of his favorites, the sweet juicy red berries that grew on the bush by the haystack where his family lived. He had wandered into the forest without realizing it, and now, he was completely and utterly lost. If he did not find his way home soon, he would have to spend the day in the forest. The night sky of autumn was already beginning to grow lighter, and Derek knew that he could not find his way home before daybreak. He began to look around for a suitable place to sleep during the day, when suddenly, he heard the call of an owl, and the muffled woosh of wings overhead.

-- Bri

P. S. Please post the next part of the story (it can be as long or as short as you wish) or tell me if you want a new story starter, or start your own! Derek is a mouse, I think, but he could be any small noctournal creature, he is whatever the next person to post wants him to be :D! Please tell me if there is anyone else you want me to invite (you have to have an invite to be able to post parts of the story) or I can give you admin privileges if you want a lot of people added... I would sort of prefer to know the people I am adding at least a little bit... Thank you in advance to the next person who posts!!!

-- Bri :D


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Introduction

Please post the beginning of a story, and then everyone can contribute as much or as little to the story as they want... Please nobody kill the main character... That would sort of ruin the story.. Also, if you use a nickname in your blogger account, please tell us who you are by signing entries with your first name :) The main point is: HAVE FUN!!!

Thanks,

-- Bri

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