Frankenstein is a writer’s game wherein a story is composed of sentences contributed by different authors. We play this game a lot in Book Junkies, and everyone has a lot of fun with it.
So, I’ll kick it off with a prompt sentence, then you guys each add a sentence in the comment thread. Each subsequent sentence should feed off the sentence before it in the thread. So, let’s see what monster of a story we can stitch together.
One note though: PG-13 type blog—keep it clever but clean.
Prompt sentence:
Lyle was the kind of man who would never send soup back because he was afraid the waiter would spit in it.
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Author: Administrators
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When he as a waiter spitting in the soup of bad customers was almost a requirement and now that he wasn't a waiter he feared it greatly.
What Lyle didn't realize was that at Soup de Soleil, the soup du jour was actually made with the bathwater de yesterday.
Lyle was torn…the more he thought about it the more convoluted his thoughts became…was he afraid to return the soup or 'afraid he was afraid'…an important distinction, though not directly related to soup.
And it was the combination of yesterday's broth served at tomorrow's prices that finally emboldened Lyle to gesture for his waiter's attention.
"If you tell me there's a fly in it," the waiter says, a sneer flaring his nostrils and curling his lip, "I'll beat the crap out of you."
To which lyle replied "Taste the soup."
"A fly has better sense than to land in this muck," snapped Lyle. "Now go find me some food that has some actually food in it, before I wave a magnet too close to those nose studs."
The waiter shrugged, the kind of shrug that says you've been smoking hash in the kitchen.
Unfortunately this waiter dropped out of school in 7th grade and had just tried smoking the corned beef hash.
It didn't burn well.
Neither did it smell friendly. Everywhere he walked there was the lingering image of sour corn and black bacon in the minds of customers placed too close to him.