The Ink Slingers Guild (ISG) had some round-robin writing fun! We each wrote a sentence or two and then passed the paper to the next person who added to it and passed it along to the next person and on down the line. We hope you are as entertained as we!
I frowned as yet another sticky block the size of my head landed on the car parked in front of me. A slow concerned gaze from me drifted toward what I could only assume was a monster made of fecal matter. Towering over the parking lot, it was lumpy and lopsided, and dear god did it smell. A man got out of the car next to mine, his manner that of a long-suffering companion. He gestured to the creature. “Now, Bobby,” he began in the best dad voice ever, “We’ve talked about this.” “Yes, dad,” the monster said, defeated, as he started to deflate like a balloon. Even as I sat there, twenty minutes later as the poop monster had most likely gone home with a scolding, it still stank outside.