Wednesday, September 26, 2012

7: Plot Generator Challenge - Pt. 1


Said the Script Frenzy plot generator: At a Star Trek convention, a recent high school dropout must find a way back home.

Meh. Star Trek is the only geeky thing I haven't attempted to obsess over yet.

Said the Script Frenzy plot generator: After the Third World War, a skateboarder with an attitude falls for two very different people. 

No. No love triangles. LOVE TRIANGLES ARE THE SPAWN OF HADES NDSAJDKSLADNJSLDA *internally combusts*


Said the Script Frenzy plot generator: On the run from a sentient typewriter, a hyperactive poodle serves the homeless at a soup kitchen.

. . .

Challenge accepted.

   Glenna was not able to pick up the writing utensil due to the two fat pink objects that enclosed her hands. She pinched the stuffed paws together, attempting to squeeze the slender object between their stifling fluffiness. For a moment, she was victorious, the thin evasive wooden thing clenched in her paws.  She grinned brightly and moved her hands upward. The yellow pencil slipped out of her grip and clattered back onto the tabletop.
   "Chessie, can you - oh, never mind," said Glenna, and yanked off one of the large stuffed paws by clasping it between her knees. She removed the other in the same manner and tossed them both onto the table, flexing her fingers and shaking the long, floppy pink ears out of her face. She popped her knuckles and stretched her arms, nearly hitting a nearby boy who had chocolate icing smeared over his face and a pointed party hat atop his rumpled blonde hair.
   Chessie, Glenna's nine-year-old sister, was oblivious to Glenna's previous predicament as she pulled the tissue paper out of a sparkly rainbow gift bag.
   Glenna smiled as Chessie squealed at the contents of the bag. It was a mutant pukey rainbow pony or something. The girl at Chessie's elbow reached for it eagerly. "Ooh! Let me see!" she squeaked, fingers stretched toward the gift. Her exclamation of excitement was almost drowned out among the other exclamations of excitement in the place.
   It was the day of Chessie's ninth birthday, and Glenna's family was celebrating by holding a party at Stomp N' Shout, only the loudest, most obnoxious establishment in the city or possibly the state or possibly the country or possibly the world. It was basically a place filled with towering labyrinthine structures made of mesh and rubber; difficult games that spewed tickets allowing the purchasing of cheap, overpriced prizes like plastic snowglobes and sticky hands; underpaid employees who sauntered around in hot animal costumes and distributed hugs among the sweaty children. Kids would dash through these mazelike structures, smack their faces on the padded implements, and run crying to their mothers; kids would play these games, not have enough tickets for the cheap toy that they wanted - or otherwise break it soon after it was attained - and run crying to their mothers; kids would somehow get frightened by the workers in the sweaty animal costumes and would run crying to their mothers. Overall, it was the kind of place where Glenna did not want to spend her Saturday, but it was her little sister's birthday after all. She had agreed to dress up as a pink poodle in compliance with the Parisian theme that Chessie had requested after developing a certain fascination with all things French. It had taken a lot of wheedling on the part of Glenna's parents to get her to agree with this. She had finally relented under the promise of a twenty-dollar bill.
  That was how Glenna ended up wearing a pink poodle costume - complete with a black triangular nose painted over her own - and standing amidst a bunch of screaming children who were getting hyper off slices of the sugary, over-icinged Eiffel Tower-shaped cake that Glenna's parents had ordered. They both sat on either side of Chessie, keeping her from getting tackled and/or sat on and/or puked on by any of the other children, as well as disposing of the trash that was produced by her gifts.
  After glancing at her watch, Glenna leaned toward her parents. "Mom, dad, I'm gonna go. I've gotta be at the soup kitchen by three thirty."
  They both glanced up at Glenna, smiling. "Alright, darling," said her mom, who then gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Stay safe."
   Glenna hugged Chessie. "Happy birthday, little sis!" she smiled. Chessie giggled and shoved the mutant pukey rainbow pony at her.
   Making her escape, Glenna grabbed her tote bag - the one with the screenprint of Rose Lalonde from Homestuck - that contained her change of clothes and searched out the bathroom, using the confined space of a stall to awkwardly wiggle out of the poodle costume and into some normal clothing.
   Coming out of the stall, Glenna washed the dark makeup off her nose with some warm water from the sink and then stood up to admire her reflection. Dark hair, sliced in an angled way that framed her face and fell no further than past the middle of her neck. Green-grey eyes lined lightly by the purple eyeshadow that she liked. A smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose.
   She turned away and left the bathroom, pulling the tote bag higher up on her shoulder as she pushed through throngs of excited kids. The door was just in out of reach - the one sight that stood as a beacon of hope to all in the vicinity who were over the age of twelve. She pushed out into the cold afternoon air and pulled up the hood on her jacket, reveling in the freshness of the autumn day.
   She sought out her grape-colored Schwinn in the corner of the parking lot where she had left it. Grabbing on to the familiar white handles, she hopped onto the seat and pedaled away. The soup kitchen where she volunteered wasn't far away, and she enjoyed the feeling of the fall air numbing her cheeks and fingers.

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