The Drabblecast

The circus was nearly perfect that year. Almost nothing was off. The only problem was the Blood Feud between the clowns.

"Press this button to not destroy the universe," the sign read. Clyde looked into his lying ex's eyes and contemplated.

-=ShoEboX=-

“It’s possessed,” I cursed the GPS. “Go to Hell.” She told it, and me. “You have arrived at your destination,” it told me.

I swung the hatchet until all resemblance to a human head had been destroyed. I stood, trembling.

I was chief after that.

Wonko wrote:The circus was nearly perfect that year. Almost nothing was off. The only problem was the Blood Feud between the clowns.

In my own personal opinion, a blood feud between the clowns is precisely the sort of thing that would elevate a circus to a state of glorius perfection.

But that's just me.

Nice twit-fic.

mako.allen wrote:“It’s possessed,” I cursed the GPS. “Go to Hell.” She told it, and me. “You have arrived at your destination,” it told me.

Twice told tales are fine, but this would be much better of you axed the 2nd "told" in favor of some other synonym...
change "it told me" to "it announced" then lose 4 characters somewhere, maybe?

(I've been spending WAY too much time with Miss Grimsley...)

"Flipped"

.pmud a ekat ot egru sih lortnoc ot deliaf miJ ,yadretsey tae dluow eh senurp fo kcas gib eht ta tsahgA .desrever dah emiT

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And if you aren't naturally dyslexic or just too lazy to read it backwards, scroll down...
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"deppilF"

Time had reversed. Aghast at the big sack of prunes he would eat yesterday, Jim failed to control his urge to take a dump.

Yesterday health was declared an unalienable right. Today diazepam numbs my fear as my sarcophagus fills with saline.

Sadly, Tweedy has become a fear-mongering mob.
Put the gun down, Tweedy.

Tweedy raised his gun defiantly, but he was immediately cut down. Dying, he smiled. The zombie virus began to activate.

Tweedy had been such a good moderator. I would sorely miss his comments. Aiming at Zombie-Tweedy, I pulled the trigger.

Controversially the NHS decided that it was not cost-effective to offer hip replacements to zombies.

Zombie-Tweedy looked down the barrel of the carbine and dimly knew from the gunman's stare that it must be killing time.

"Pheno Takes a Holiday"

Going all in, Pheno pushed his Drabblebucks into the pot. Before Elvis called, the alien zombie barmaids ate his brain.

All of Valerie’s sloughed fat cells gathered in the bend of the sink drain just waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

Bob looked around at the horrific blood-stained walls. He was sorry he’d taunted the Happy Fun Ball.

F5iver wrote:All of Valerie’s sloughed fat cells gathered in the bend of the sink drain just waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

Brilliant!

(Although I think someone was inspired by a certain Doctor Who episode...)

Wonko wrote:Bob looked around at the horrific blood-stained walls. He was sorry he’d taunted the Happy Fun Ball.

This twibble needs more cowbell.

Actually, got a nice chuckle. Happy Fun Ball was one of the best SNL commercials, although I think it comes in 2nd place to the commercial for the Mercury Mistress.

Mr. Tweedy wrote:
(Although I think someone was inspired by a certain Doctor Who episode...)

I am ashamed to say I've never seen a single episode of Dr.Who ever in my life. Are they stealing my ideas?

F5iver wrote:I am ashamed to say I've never seen a single episode of Dr.Who ever in my life. Are they stealing my ideas?

Yes. (Those bastards.) There was a recent episode in which people's fat was literally leaping off their bodies to become a horde of little pink blob monsters.