eyenot
in
beginnings
Challenge #60
Submitted by: eyenot
Submitted for: Challenge 60 - Am I talking to a brick wall?
Started: Dec.5 2007, 1:56pm
Words/time: 393 / 59 min.
Title: "Talking Brick Wall" (PG)
"Am I talking to a brick wall?", asked the spokesman, "YOU BET I AM! Whaddaya think of THAT?!"
A crowd cheered under a pulsing laser-light show, in confetti and tinsel filled air, gratefully grabbing from the nonstop airdrop of logo-emblazoned t-shirts, keychains, plush bricks. The harder stuff, sold only at the convention gift counter, clutched in every other hand: injection-molded plastic trowels and squares, cans of "Morty(tm)" string foam (available in mortar-grey and brick-red).
"You bet your **** I'm talking to a brick wall! Yeeeeaaaaaggghhhhhh!! Wanna hear it talk back?!" the spokesman yelled into his headset, barely audible above the roar, despite the amplification of towers of speakers. Above them resting a platform, and almost all knew what it carried.
The referred-to brick wall was there in person. The spokesman paced before it across the stage, holding his hands out over the audience, inciting a near-riot for the grand display. Over ecstatic frenzy, he walked backwards over to the brick wall. The crowd hushed, and the spokesman crossed his arms, leaned his head toward the wall and asked, "so tell me, do you come here often?"
The crowd went ballistic. A torrent of foam bricks hailed upon the stage amidst hundreds of cans worth of high-pressure red and grey foam string. Plastic squares hurtled, boomeranging high into the air, landing on heads and bouncing off the brick wall. Flung plastic trowels swooped and dive-bombed crowd and stage. A dozen rows closest to the stage were crushed. A man climbed over them, foam bricks stuffed in his mouth. Somebody fell from the balcony, sucked into the crowd.
"And you know what that MEANS?! I... I. THINK YOU DO. YES!" The front rows were buried under a stampede desperate to near the stage.
The spokesman ran as a halo of brilliant light surrounded the high platform. Slowly, a large, glowing pyramid with an eye in the center levitated and hovered over the crowd. The entire arena vibrated and shuddered under the crowd's continuous screams.
The eye blinked a couple of times and then closed, then opened, rays of light springing from its gaze and illuminating the crowd, thinning their numbers. Many stood their ground, hoping the rays would find them next, their friends and loved-ones disappearing tendrils of mist under scanning and blinking prima materia. The rest ran for the exits, hoping to survive for the next convention.
Submitted for: Challenge 60 - Am I talking to a brick wall?
Started: Dec.5 2007, 1:56pm
Words/time: 393 / 59 min.
Title: "Talking Brick Wall" (PG)
"Am I talking to a brick wall?", asked the spokesman, "YOU BET I AM! Whaddaya think of THAT?!"
A crowd cheered under a pulsing laser-light show, in confetti and tinsel filled air, gratefully grabbing from the nonstop airdrop of logo-emblazoned t-shirts, keychains, plush bricks. The harder stuff, sold only at the convention gift counter, clutched in every other hand: injection-molded plastic trowels and squares, cans of "Morty(tm)" string foam (available in mortar-grey and brick-red).
"You bet your **** I'm talking to a brick wall! Yeeeeaaaaaggghhhhhh!! Wanna hear it talk back?!" the spokesman yelled into his headset, barely audible above the roar, despite the amplification of towers of speakers. Above them resting a platform, and almost all knew what it carried.
The referred-to brick wall was there in person. The spokesman paced before it across the stage, holding his hands out over the audience, inciting a near-riot for the grand display. Over ecstatic frenzy, he walked backwards over to the brick wall. The crowd hushed, and the spokesman crossed his arms, leaned his head toward the wall and asked, "so tell me, do you come here often?"
The crowd went ballistic. A torrent of foam bricks hailed upon the stage amidst hundreds of cans worth of high-pressure red and grey foam string. Plastic squares hurtled, boomeranging high into the air, landing on heads and bouncing off the brick wall. Flung plastic trowels swooped and dive-bombed crowd and stage. A dozen rows closest to the stage were crushed. A man climbed over them, foam bricks stuffed in his mouth. Somebody fell from the balcony, sucked into the crowd.
"And you know what that MEANS?! I... I. THINK YOU DO. YES!" The front rows were buried under a stampede desperate to near the stage.
The spokesman ran as a halo of brilliant light surrounded the high platform. Slowly, a large, glowing pyramid with an eye in the center levitated and hovered over the crowd. The entire arena vibrated and shuddered under the crowd's continuous screams.
The eye blinked a couple of times and then closed, then opened, rays of light springing from its gaze and illuminating the crowd, thinning their numbers. Many stood their ground, hoping the rays would find them next, their friends and loved-ones disappearing tendrils of mist under scanning and blinking prima materia. The rest ran for the exits, hoping to survive for the next convention.