Collab-o-Writing Stories on GLP - Who is game to use their creative imagination?

much he hates surprise's, in walks Bob and says" Surprise Purple", just about making Purple shit his pants.

I'm sitting at Starbucks reading my mail.
I hate surprises. No, I really do hate surprises...

I don't even care for the happy surprises. I never managed to figure out why. Is it a control thing? Anxiety? All I know is I live in a world full of surprising things, I hate it all. Mail surprises most of all, because no good surprises come by mail. If someone has anything great to surprise you with, they do it in person, or at the very least by phone. Mail is reserved for those surprises people just don't want to be around to witness.
The last letter looms before me, and before I even open it I can feel a sense of apprehension. There is a"feeling" to this innocent looking envelope. A dread.

lol. this is not about purple, but if you want to call the character at starbucks purple, go ahead..

I can feel the energy from the unopened letter go into my fingers holding the envelope like rays charged with electricity. I'm having the strongest premonition ever. This letter will change my life forever...

The writing on the front is shaky, clumsy. My name is mispelled, but it always is. I decide looking at the crawled writing that I do not like the way my name looks in this person's hand writing. I tell myself I am just being silly. It was probably just some newsletter from the hospital charity, or someone from the pet shelter asking for more donations. Flipping the letter over in my hand, I slide a finger under the flap...

everyone at glp should grab some popcorn and come watch - we are writing a bestseller here, heeheehee!

...This moment it feels as if there is nothing in this world but this mystery letter and this moment in time as i am about to open it, as someone yells out my name and entirely breaks my concentration on the letter...

as I look up, I can't believe what I see...

and use their imagination to co-write. the weirder the better.

the letter slips from my hands and falls to my feet, and I look up to see a tall, gangly man rushing to my table. It is Gary, my dear, hopeless friend. He is almost always around Starbucks. He loves to hang out here with a few seedy looking computer guys. They sit in the corner, talking about their strange theories. Top secret stuff always. I think they are full of it, but since I have known Gary since we were kids, I just laugh it away - and keep my distance from his friends. Gary picks up the fallen letter for me, handing it to me as he slides into the chair opposite from me.

He looks very distraught, moreso than usually. He immediately starts talking in a hasty manner, almost whispering as if he was worried about someone possibly listening to the conversation.

His whispers were mostly drowned out by the hipster crowd at the next table. I leaned in close, conspiratorially I am sure it would appear to Gary, as he gushed his exciting tale that I could barely hear. I did catch the usual "Gary" words. "Government", "secret" and "doom". I wasn't going to break his heart by waving his theories off as garbage, so I tried to nod my head in all the right places as he continued...

She Facebooks me a picture of her clitterdick and I get aroused. Guilt immediately flashes into my consciousness and I wonder what I'm doing. Why does this massive clitterdick turn me on? Why isn't this sheman in some kind of record book? Then it dawns on me. Maybe shem is. I hurriedly click over to Google and search shis name...


LOL, kidding.

Intergalactic highways connecting the mega cities

I wasn't really paying much attention to what he was saying because it sounded like the usual conspiracy non-sense and doom predictions that never happened, but there was something different in his voice this time.
It made me listen closer to what he had to say...

"...hits the fan this time!" he continued. I presume he was talking about his proverbial shit agin. It seemed every other day it was hitting one fan or another. "I am serious, Charley," he said, "this time it is real. There is no stopping it. It is going to happen, and soon. Some of us are thinking as soon as tomorrow."

He exuded some serious feeling of anxiety. It was infectious...or was I still stressed out about the mystery letter...or were these two events somehow connected?

Gary could see the skepticism on my face. Normally he was cool with the fact that I didn't fall for any of his doom scenarios, but today I could tell he was frustrated at my lack of belief. The hipsters were only getting louder, and Gary knew he could not keep whispering over their racket anymore. Grabbing my arm he pulled me up from the table.
"Come on," he said, " We have to go, NOW!" I barely managed to grab my mail and the coat that I had draped over the back of my chair as he dragged me to the exit. Forget about the half cup of coffee that was left behind at the table. I gave it one last, longing glance as I was practically drgged out into the chilly autumn air.

"Where are we going?" I said highly annoyed. He said: "Don't ask, just hurry up. You'll thank me later."

He led me to my car, rubbing his cold hands together to warm them up while he waited impatiently for me to fish my car keys out of my bag. The minute the door was unlocked he yanked it open, jumping inside as if he was the hero in some summer blockbuster high speed chase. He pounded on the dash. "Let's go!" He hollered. At that point, I had had just about all the Gary drama I can handle for one morning."No!" I refused. "I am not starting this car until you explain to me what the hell is going on."

He pointed at the sky. "Haven't you noticed? Take a look, man. This is it! Just start the car. I'll explain while you're driving. We don't have much time left. We have to get to Joe's house. He built the underground shelter I've been telling you about."

Last Edited by Swirling Purple on 10/05/2013 10:41 PM

With a sigh of resignation, I turned the key. Yeah, somewhere in the back of my mind i did recall him talking about a bunker. Outside of town, something about an abandoned farmhouse. I set the car in motion, out of the parking lot and down the road to the exit. I knew where he wanted to go. There was only one abandoned farmhouse, and thankfully it wasn't too far away.
As I drove, Gary began furiously texting on his phone. Every reply coming in hot and fast, with his annoying ringtone signalling each one. X-files theme, he had told me once. What ever that was. In between texts, he kept leaning up to the dash to look above the car. I wondered if he thought we were being followed by choppers.

I touched the right pocket of my coat to make sure the letter was still there after I stuffed it in the coat pocket during our rush exit from Starbucks.
"What are you looking for?" I exclaimed impatiently.

Gary chose to ignore me, or pretend he didnt hear me, and continued with his urgent texting. Sighing in what was now a lot closer to anger than impatience, I turned on the radio to hear the news.
"And turning to more serious news," said the newscaster, "Scientists today have confirmed that the comet the whole world has been tracking is going to be making a much closer pass than had been originally anticipated. Original models indicated that the comet would be only coming close enough to give us a pretty show, but now are indicating that it is more likely we will see the earth bombarded by dozens of tiny chunks of the comet's tail. Top scientist estimate that the fragments are too small to cause any damage, instead just giving star gazers a pretty show." Gary snorted at the announcer, and shut the radio off in disgust.

(and now I am off to bed, leaving the story for someone more capable than I to continue it on through the night - i hope it is still going tomorrow, i would love to contribute more. My creative writing so rarely gets an outlet!!!!)
great thread - 5*, pin suggested it, and green karma'd you op!!

"Seeeee!" I said. "You've been smoking too much weed and that made you all paranoid."
He says: "I don't like your attitude but you happen to be a key person in this whole event. You were about to find out at Starbucks, but it was too early. You can not open the letter yet. It contains a code that has to be revealed at a certain time sequence which I can't get into yet..."
"What the hell are yo talking about. I will stop the car right now and open the letter..."
"No! Do not open the letter yet!" he said with a very serious tone in his voice...

Last Edited by Swirling Purple on 10/05/2013 11:03 PM

Ok. I'm done for today also. Thanks for sharing your cool writing skills. maybe someone will pick up and develop the story some more. Will be back tomorrow.

Thank you! Nighty Night. :)

"What would you know about that letter anyway?" I asked, incredulous that he could know the contents of such an unremarkable, unopened envelope.
"Listen, this is important! We don't have time to argue. Just DRIVE!" His tone was crisp, urgent, loud, transcending his usual hushed aloofness.
The hair on the back of my neck went up. There was no clear and present danger, so why were all of my senses suddenly on alert? It defied logic. Why was I allowing myself to get so caught up in this latest conspiracy theory of his? My stomach growled then, and I decided my uneasiness must just be the result of low blood sugar. I wondered why I had so eagerly abandoned my breakfast for yet another of Gary's whims.
"Hey, Gary, I'm running low on fuel. Let's stop at the convenience store on Shady Lane on the way out of town."