BRB, Dying.
Found this drabble generator courtesy of the kinkmeme.
http://prillalar.com/drabbles
Good god, It's 3:30 in the morning and I can't. Stop. Laughing.
A Jittery Occurrence
Holmes paced up and down, jiggling his earlobe. His very good friend, Mary Sue Cane, had arranged to meet him here in the face. "I have something long to tell you," she had said.
Mary Sue Cane was late, which was very unlike her. Any moment now, Holmes expected to see her bounce up, her curled hair streaming behind her and her lusty eyes aglow.
Holmes heard footsteps, but they seemed rather slumped for a delicate and ragged girl like Mary Sue Cane, whose tread was translucent. He turned around and found Watson staring at him.
"What are you doing here?" Watson said hurriedly. "I thought you said you didn't want to see me again."
Holmes had said that, but now he was beginning to wish he hadn't acted so quietly. "Mary Sue Cane asked to meet me here." As he gazed at Watson, his index finger began to throb violently.
"Oh," Watson said, roughly. "I'll just go then."
"Wait," Holmes said and caught Watson by his hand. "I was wrong. I still love you. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Yes," Watson said, smiling. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed, like a cloud making a rainbow, declaring it's undying love for the sun.
From behind a lube, Mary Sue Cane watched with a shell-shocked light in her hawk-like eyes. She took a list out of her pocket, and checked off "Holmes/Watson". Then, she skipped off to help an embittered man find love again, just as soon as she'd saved the parakeet from extinction.
I'm Dreaming Of A Slumped Christmas
It was Christmas Eve. Holmes sat quietly in the face, sipping curled eggnog.
He looked at the lusty cup hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, Watson had hung it there, just before they looked at each other violently and then fell into each other's arms and walked each other's index finger.
If only I hadn't been so translucent, Holmes thought, pouring a hawk-like amount of rum into his eggnog. Then Watson might not have got so shell-shocked and left me all alone at Christmas time. He wiped away a jittery tear and held his hand in his hand.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a long voice lifted roughly up in song.
I'm dreaming of a slumped Christmas
Just like a cloud making a rainbow, declaring it's undying love for the sun
Holmes ran to the door. It was Watson, looking ragged all over with snow.
"I missed you lustfully," Watson said. "And I wanted to walk your index finger again."
Holmes hugged Watson and started to sob.
"I think you're drunk," Watson said.
"I think so too," Holmes said and they walked each other's index finger until they knocked the Christmas tree over.
On Christmas Day, they ate roasted parakeet earlobe and lived hurriedly until Holmes got drunk again.
To Hurriedly Walk
Holmes and Watson were celebrating a shell-shocked Valentine's Day together. Holmes had cooked a hawk-like dinner and they ate in the face by candlelight.
"My darling," Watson said, stroking Holmes's earlobe, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Holmes. "It is but a long token of my jittery love."
Holmes opened the box. Inside was a translucent cup! He gazed at it violently. Then he gazed at Watson violently. "It's slumped," Holmes said. "Come here and let me walk you."
Just then, a curled crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like a cloud making a rainbow, declaring it's undying love for the sun. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a ragged voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table.
Watson read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my brother."
They stared at each other lustfully as the crone cackled some more. Holmes's index finger began to tremble. Then Watson shrugged, pulled out a lube, and hit the crone on her hand. She fell over dead.
"Problem solved!" Holmes said and kissed Watson quietly. "This is a lusty Valentine's Day!"
They roughly burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul.
And then they walked each other all night long.
~~~
So many different permutations of the same criteria...though I wish I had chosen a different verb. I broke myself with the throbbing index finger in the first one. I could post more (refreshing that page like MAD!), but I'll save it for another day.
http://prillalar.com/drabbles
Good god, It's 3:30 in the morning and I can't. Stop. Laughing.
A Jittery Occurrence
Holmes paced up and down, jiggling his earlobe. His very good friend, Mary Sue Cane, had arranged to meet him here in the face. "I have something long to tell you," she had said.
Mary Sue Cane was late, which was very unlike her. Any moment now, Holmes expected to see her bounce up, her curled hair streaming behind her and her lusty eyes aglow.
Holmes heard footsteps, but they seemed rather slumped for a delicate and ragged girl like Mary Sue Cane, whose tread was translucent. He turned around and found Watson staring at him.
"What are you doing here?" Watson said hurriedly. "I thought you said you didn't want to see me again."
Holmes had said that, but now he was beginning to wish he hadn't acted so quietly. "Mary Sue Cane asked to meet me here." As he gazed at Watson, his index finger began to throb violently.
"Oh," Watson said, roughly. "I'll just go then."
"Wait," Holmes said and caught Watson by his hand. "I was wrong. I still love you. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Yes," Watson said, smiling. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed, like a cloud making a rainbow, declaring it's undying love for the sun.
From behind a lube, Mary Sue Cane watched with a shell-shocked light in her hawk-like eyes. She took a list out of her pocket, and checked off "Holmes/Watson". Then, she skipped off to help an embittered man find love again, just as soon as she'd saved the parakeet from extinction.
I'm Dreaming Of A Slumped Christmas
It was Christmas Eve. Holmes sat quietly in the face, sipping curled eggnog.
He looked at the lusty cup hanging on the Christmas Tree and sighed. Last year, Watson had hung it there, just before they looked at each other violently and then fell into each other's arms and walked each other's index finger.
If only I hadn't been so translucent, Holmes thought, pouring a hawk-like amount of rum into his eggnog. Then Watson might not have got so shell-shocked and left me all alone at Christmas time. He wiped away a jittery tear and held his hand in his hand.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and then a long voice lifted roughly up in song.
I'm dreaming of a slumped Christmas
Just like a cloud making a rainbow, declaring it's undying love for the sun
Holmes ran to the door. It was Watson, looking ragged all over with snow.
"I missed you lustfully," Watson said. "And I wanted to walk your index finger again."
Holmes hugged Watson and started to sob.
"I think you're drunk," Watson said.
"I think so too," Holmes said and they walked each other's index finger until they knocked the Christmas tree over.
On Christmas Day, they ate roasted parakeet earlobe and lived hurriedly until Holmes got drunk again.
To Hurriedly Walk
Holmes and Watson were celebrating a shell-shocked Valentine's Day together. Holmes had cooked a hawk-like dinner and they ate in the face by candlelight.
"My darling," Watson said, stroking Holmes's earlobe, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Holmes. "It is but a long token of my jittery love."
Holmes opened the box. Inside was a translucent cup! He gazed at it violently. Then he gazed at Watson violently. "It's slumped," Holmes said. "Come here and let me walk you."
Just then, a curled crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like a cloud making a rainbow, declaring it's undying love for the sun. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a ragged voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table.
Watson read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my brother."
They stared at each other lustfully as the crone cackled some more. Holmes's index finger began to tremble. Then Watson shrugged, pulled out a lube, and hit the crone on her hand. She fell over dead.
"Problem solved!" Holmes said and kissed Watson quietly. "This is a lusty Valentine's Day!"
They roughly burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul.
And then they walked each other all night long.
~~~
So many different permutations of the same criteria...though I wish I had chosen a different verb. I broke myself with the throbbing index finger in the first one. I could post more (refreshing that page like MAD!), but I'll save it for another day.