Pieces
Hello and welcome to pieces, the story that keeps on giving.
If you are unsure what pieces is, it is a collaboration of as many minds as we can possibly get. The story started on our road trip to Gainesville and there are only 2 rules: Minimum 1 sentence, maximum is 1 paragraph.I ask that you try to keep at least continuity from at least the last paragraph because I've had some writers that made plotholes so huge that I had to rewrite their paragraphs to make them work and I really don't like doing that because it takes away from their creativity, for instance one person ended their paragraph with 2 characters parting ways, but magicly in the next persons (a dumb person's) paragraph they were back together again (Dave is dumb like that). Oh and there is no rule as to how far you can go into your own realm of a story, that 2nd paragraph was very harsh, but we were able to recover and thats what makes this so much fun.
If you would like to take part in Pieces just e-mail me at stsuperthe@yahoo.com When it is your turn I will send you a .doc file or some other method. and you can read it all up to that point and then add in your paragraph. Until the story is completely finished I will only display the story. If and when the story finally finishes I will number the paragraphs and at the very end I will put all of our names and which numbers we wrote. Eventually I will make character pages and city pages so as to help people get to know our story.
Here is the story so far:
Pieces
        There once was a boy named Timmothy. He loved to go around with his bestest friend Jackson. They had many adventures to lead them to what they have become now. This is just one of those stories.
          One day Timmothy and Jackson decided they wanted to play house. The only problem was that they were both boys, so one of them had to play the wife.
          While arguing over who was going to play the wife, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled up in front of Timmothy’s house. The car door opened and out came an old man in a really ugly suit, smoking a cigarette. “This is the house,” he said…
          The man knocked on Timmothy's door and Timmothy and Jackson ran to see who was there. When they opened the door the man gazed at them with haunting eyes. The boys were eager to introduce themselves and invited the man in. Maybe he could be the “wife?” But the man’s only response was “Do you have a light?” When the boys told him no the man replied “That’s too bad, cause it’s a nice night out for Jack!”
          Then right in front of the boys Jack vanished into thin air. Timmothy looked on his desk and found a note signed by Jack and it read:
Dear Timmothy:
            I saw you and Jackson arguing over who could play the “wife”, and I think I’ve come up with the perfect solution for you. DON’T PLAY HOUSE YOU STUPID HOMOSEXUALS!!! Instead, why don’t you go kill your parents.
                          -Jack          After reading this Timmothy got an idea. Timothy told Jackson that playing house was a really stupid idea. Instead Timmothy had a new idea for something even cooler to do. Before he told Jackson the idea, they had to gather a ball of yarn, 2 AA batteries, a really really pointy stick, & a can of yoo-hoo. They put all the stuff in a big pile & Timmothy said, “OK. Here is what we’re gonna do…..”
          First, we are gonna tie our parents with this ball of yarn. Then we’ll mix the battery acid into this can of yoo-hoo. We’ll make our parents drink it and watch as their insides dissolve. This, however, will only toture them slowly, so we’ll have to finish them off with this really really pointy stick.
          Jackson replied “Screw you guys, I’m going home” So Jackson left timothy to do the dirty deed himself. Timmothy sat and pondered if this was the right thing to do. He knew the only way he could find out all there was that he was meant for would be to find and meet with the old wiseman who lived within the land of the elves. So he packed a small bit, ate and left with only his bo to defend himself.
          Now let me describe this journey. See, Timmothy lives in what was known as “hill.” “Hill” was covered in those sort-of-prickly-but-not-sticky bushes. Because of this Jackson had 2 choices: he could walk gingerly between each bush, or hurl himself down the hill and try to jump large sections of the bushes. Seeing how Jackson felt time was of the essence, he choose option #2, and down he went. Rolling down the hillside, he picked up a couple of bruises and pricks, and landed face-up at the bottom. But that’s when he saw that…
          Timmothy’s left leg was lying under the tree. Jackson ran to it at the bottom. “Oh My GOD!!!” Jackson exclaimed. “Left leg, what are you doing under this tree?” he asked. “.....Well Timmothy decided he didn’t like me,” leg replied. “He…...