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Paul 'Mad Libs'--or 'DIY Fanfic'

 
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Teri



Joined: 04 Feb 2006
Posts: 473
Location: Sussex, WI USA

PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 9:42 am    Post subject: Paul 'Mad Libs'--or 'DIY Fanfic' Reply with quote

I've been looking for an online equivilant to the old 'Mad Libs' game forever--and today I found a link to one posted at Livejournal (thank you to whomever!)! Very Happy This is a fun one, too, because the 'stories' (drabble, if you will) it produces are mainly of the romantic persuasion, which is always fun where Paul and his characters are concerned. Wink

If you've never played Mad Libs, it's a game where you plunk your own words (the game specifies which kind: names, nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc.) into empty spaces in a pre-written story, to creat a new (usually very silly) story.

So I thought this would be an amusing little distraction, using Paul's film and television characters (or Paul himself)...along with whomever you unwittingly subject to pairing them with! Twisted Evil

Here's the link--give it a try, then copy and paste which ever story you think turns out best (it'll let you try many stories with the same set of words), and post it for us!

Have fun! Very Happy

http://www.prillalar.com/drabbles/


Here's one I tried, using Gaby's middle name 'Leticia' (which I recently became enamored of on an OT questionaire *g*).


The Battle For The Teacup

Up a tree, Mr. Bush man-handled his teacup. He had been busy with the teacup for hours and now wanted nothing more than a jiggly cuddle or a warm massage from his lover Leticia.

He said this last thought out loud, and all of a sudden his rascally Leticia appeared at the door, grinning melodramatically.

"Put down the teacup," Leticia said unabashedly. "Unless you want me to man-handle that teacup on your bellybutton."

Mr. Bush put down the teacup. He was pithy. He had never seen Leticia so orange before and it made him hairy.

Leticia picked up the teacup, then withdrew a beer can from her thigh. "Don't be so pithy," Leticia said with an orange grimace. "A two headed sheep bit my armpit this morning, and everything became half-baked. Now with this teacup and this beer can I can unabashedly rule the world!"

Mr. Bush clutched his crappy armpit stupidly. This was his lover, his rascally Leticia, now staring at him with an orange thigh.

"Fight it!" Mr. Bush shouted. "The two headed sheep just wants the teacup for his own rascally devices! He doesn't love you, not the jiggly way I do!"

Mr. Bush could see Leticia trembling stupidly. Mr. Bush reached out his bellybutton and touched Leticia's thigh unabashedly. He was rascally, so rascally, but he knew only his crappy love for Leticia would break the two headed sheep's spell.

Sure enough, Leticia dropped the teacup with a thunk. "Oh, Mr. Bush," she squealed. "I'm so jiggly, can you ever forgive me?"

But Mr. Bush had already moved up a tree. Molasses in January, he pressed his bellybutton into Leticia's thigh. And as they fell together in a half-baked fit of love, the teacup lay on the floor, hairy and forgotten.
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Desdemona



Joined: 07 Feb 2006
Posts: 183
Location: Lake Wisconsin, USA

PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:20 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Eugene and Lizzie
by William Shakespeare

Enter Eugene

Lizzie appears above at a window

Eugene:
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the cigar, and Lizzie is the porcupine.
Arise, rakish porcupine, and blow the curly boat.
See, how she leans her chest upon her back!
O, that I were a glove upon that back,
That I might touch that chest!

Lizzie:
O Eugene, Eugene! wherefore art thou Eugene?
What's in a name? That which we call a thigh
By any other name would smell as baked
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "like light flowing on whispery clouds in the morning"
And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove handsome.

Eugene:
Lady, by yonder curly boat I swear
That tips on the lake the wooden pitchfork--

Lizzie:
O, swear not by the boat, the woven boat,
That heavily changes in its rosy orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise rosy.
Sweet, windy night! A thousand times windy night!
Parting is such parti-colored sorrow,
That I shall say windy night till it be morrow.

Exit above

Eugene:
Sleep dwell upon thy chest, peace in thy back!
Would I were sleep and peace, so woodenly to rest!
swimmingly will I to my rakish thigh's cell,
Its help to blow, and my baked thigh to tell.
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Teri



Joined: 04 Feb 2006
Posts: 473
Location: Sussex, WI USA

PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 12:27 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

As long as they understand each other, we're good! Laughing Laughing

These are a crack up. Very Happy


Here's one other I did:


The Sad Excuse For A Terror Of The Snow

It snowed a foot overnight. When they woke up, Marsha Brady and Marwood went out to play. First, they made snow angels. Then they had a snowball fight and Marsha Brady hit Marwood in his left butt cheek with a big smelly iceball. It hurt a lot, but Marsha Brady kissed it garishly and then it was all better.

Then they decided to make a snow man.

"We'll make a really withered snow man!" Marsha Brady said.

"Why don't we make a snow woman instead?" Marwood said. "That would be more simply smashing and politically correct."

"I know," Marsha Brady said. "We can make a snow yellow bellied sapsucker. That way, we don't have to worry about gender politics."

So they rolled the snow up randomly and made a snappy snow yellow bellied sapsucker. Marsha Brady put on some supergroovalisticprostafunkstication for the nostril. The yellow bellied sapsucker was almost as big as Marwood.

"It looks fancy," Marsha Brady said briskly. "But it seems like it's missing something."

"Here," Marwood said and held up an overly excitable bra. "I found this out to sea." He put the bra onto the yellow bellied sapsucker's head.

It was perfect. For about a minute. Then the yellow bellied sapsucker, even though it was just made of snow, started to move and growl like a fart in church.

Marwood screamed randily and ran but the snow yellow bellied sapsucker chased him until he tripped over a tree root. Then the snow yellow bellied sapsucker got jiggy with him masculinely.

"Nobody does that to my little Squirmy Egg Separator," Marsha Brady screamed. She grabbed an icicle and stabbed the snow yellow bellied sapsucker through the kidney. It fell down and Marsha Brady kicked it apart until it was just a bunch of snow again.

"You saved me!" Marwood said and they shared an embrace in the snow before going in for hot chocolate.

The bra lay in the yard until a lackluster child picked it up and took it home.
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Paulgirl



Joined: 30 Mar 2006
Posts: 134
Location: Philadelphia, PA USA

PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 1:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Laughing ooh-er Shocked


To Wildly Spray

Horatio and Mistah Bush were celebrating a stubbly Valentine's Day together. Horatio had cooked a festive dinner and they ate in a dinghy by candlelight.

"My darling," Mistah Bush said, stroking Horatio's nose, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Horatio. "It is but a perky token of my smelly love."

Horatio opened the box. Inside was a spunky cucumber! He gazed at it horrifyingly. Then he gazed at Mistah Bush horrifyingly. "It's drooly," Horatio said. "Come here and let me spray you."

Just then, a confusing crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like a dockside pub that fills the world with staggering drunks. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a slippery voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table.

Mistah Bush read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my brother."

They stared at each other slyly as the crone cackled some more. Horatio's buttock began to tremble. Then Mistah Bush shrugged, pulled out a toilet, and hit the crone on her toenail. She fell over dead.

"Problem solved!" Horatio said and kissed Mistah Bush immediately. "This is a fuzzy Valentine's Day!"

They morosely burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul.

And then they sprayed each other all night long.


Denise
_________________
Colon cancer strikes more women annually than breast cancer. Yearly colonoscopy from age 50, 40 with a family history can save your life. Preventable-Treatable-Beatable!
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Teri



Joined: 04 Feb 2006
Posts: 473
Location: Sussex, WI USA

PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 1:23 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Laughing Laughing Laughing

Here are a few I did for Grace, who isn't feeling well today Sad ...

Paul and Grace
by William Shakespeare

Enter Paul

Grace appears above at a window

Paul:
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the pină colada, and Grace is the love bug.
Arise, too hot to handle love bug, and kiss the bendy tunnel of love.
See, how she leans her leg upon her lips!
O, that I were a glove upon that lips,
That I might touch that leg!

Grace:
O Paul, Paul! wherefore art thou Paul?
What's in a name? That which we call a neck
By any other name would smell as shexy
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "like a bull in a china shop"
And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove delerious.

Paul:
Lady, by yonder bendy tunnel of love I swear
That tips on the floor the sweaty pepperpot--

Grace:
O, swear not by the tunnel of love, the half clothed tunnel of love,
That breathily changes in its stunning orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise stunning.
Sweet, trembling night! A thousand times trembling night!
Parting is such heaving sorrow,
That I shall say trembling night till it be morrow.

Exit above

Paul:
Sleep dwell upon thy leg, peace in thy lips!
Would I were sleep and peace, so coyly to rest!
passionately will I to my too hot to handle neck's cell,
Its help to kiss, and my shexy neck to tell.


________________________________________________________

A Pină Colada In Time

On a heaving and bendy morning, Paul sat on the floor. It was Valentine's Day and he was all alone. His lips ached in sorrow for the secret love that he could never share. How could he expect Grace to love someone with a shexy leg?

Breathily, he began to recite a poem he had composed. "Ah, my love is like a too hot to handle half clothed pepperpot, all on a summer's day. I wish my Grace would kiss me, in her own sweaty way..."

"Do you?" Grace sat down beside Paul and put her hand on Paul's neck. "I think that could be arranged."

Paul gasped clumsily. "But what about my shexy leg?"

"I like it," Grace said coyly. "I think it's trembling."

They came together and their kiss was like five miles of bad road.

"I love you," Paul said passionately.

"I love you too," Grace replied and kissed him.

They bought a love bug, moved in together, and lived retroactively ever after.
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Grace



Joined: 11 Feb 2006
Posts: 472
Location: North Carolina, USA

PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 6:46 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Heehee! Aww, thanks Teri! I'm feeling much better today. In fact, Paul may be worried to find out who's been speeding me to my recovery! I drabbled up this story earlier. Can you guess what I've been watching today??

-----------------

Grouchy Lang Syne

Conor Phelan sipped desperately at his drink and stood grouchy behind a bowl of soup. He wasn't sure why he had come to this New Year's Eve party in the first place. He was no good at parties anyhow. They always made him feel rusty and he ended up like he was now, hiding and hoping nobody noticed how homeless his lung got when he was nervous.

Well, truth be told, Conor Phelan knew very well why he was at the party: to see Grace.

Ah, Grace. Just the thought of her, the chance of a glimpse of her damp curly hair made Conor Phelan's heart beat like the time they killed the land agent.

But tonight everyone was masked. Conor Phelan peered mercilessly through the crowd, trying to guess which guest was Grace. There, he thought, the woman over by the guillemot's egg, the spoiled one with the calf mask. It had to be Grace. No one else could look so muddy, even in a calf mask.

She began to walk Conor Phelan's way and Conor Phelan started to panic. What if she actually talked to Conor Phelan?

Grace came right up to Conor Phelan and Conor Phelan thought that he was going to faint.

"Hello," Grace said hatefully. "What are you doing over here all alone?"

"Oh, just looking at the stack of peat," Conor Phelan said and immediately wanted to die because that sounded so hungry.

Just then, a guilty voice began to count down. "Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven ..."

Conor Phelan's heart leapt. If they were together at midnight, that meant that Grace might ...

"Happy New Year!"

Grace swept Conor Phelan into her arms, bent him in the schoolhouse, and kissed Conor Phelan carelessly, slipping him the tongue and groping his leg.

Conor Phelan could hardly believe it. How wonderful! And now that it was after midnight, it was time to take their masks off. He reached out obsessively and pulled Grace's mask off her face. It was Grace! "I knew it was you," Conor Phelan said and took his own mask off.

"And it's ... you," Grace said. "You know, I'm just going to go get some punch."

Conor Phelan watched her go. She would be right back, Conor Phelan was sure. Just as soon as she had her punch.

And then they would fall in love.

--------------------

Here's another one more on-topic

I'm Dreaming Of A Perfumed Christmas

It was Christmas Eve. Marwood sat dramatically up on the mountain, sipping unusual eggnog.

He looked at the miserable little overdose hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, Withnail had hung it there, just before they looked at each other fearfully and then fell into each other's arms and offered each other's polythene-bound leg.

If only I hadn't been so ridiculous, Marwood thought, pouring a intolerable amount of rum into his eggnog. Then Withnail might not have got so bloody and left me all alone at Christmas time. He wiped away a booze-soaked tear and held his hump in his hand.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a thirteen million voice lifted shamefully up in song.

I'm dreaming of a perfumed Christmas
Just like a dozen transatlantic flights


Marwood ran to the door. It was Withnail, looking pathetic all over with snow.

"I missed you drunkenly," Withnail said. "And I wanted to murder your polythene-bound leg again."

Marwood hugged Withnail and started to sob.

"I think you're drunk," Withnail said.

"I think so too," Marwood said and they offered each other's polythene-bound leg until they knocked the Christmas tree over.

On Christmas Day, they ate roasted eel nostril and lived unabashedly until Marwood got drunk again.
_________________
-Grace
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