:: Story Starters: Episode 1 ::

This game is called Story Starters. The way we play is I will post a series of story starters and you can pick up any of them you want and finish the story. Post your finished story as a reply to the post so others can see where you took the tale!

Read the story starters The Alice of Nearmarsh and Help by the Frowning Lane after the jump:

The Alice of Nearmarsh

by Jay Carter III (and others)

In the lands of Greunwald there were several kingdoms. And in the kingdom of Nearmarsh there were several nobles. And one of those nobles was the Alice of Nearmarsh, whose name was not Alice at all, but Bonnie. Or rather, her actual name was Bonnabelle, but Bonnie was what her friends called her. For she had many friends, such as Frederick, the Jack of Nearmarsh, whose friends called him Rick, and whose enemies called him Freddie, and whose name was not Jack at all.

So it was that Bonnie and Rick were walking one day down by the junipers in Sophomore Yard when a funny thing happened.

Then, a not-so-funny thing happened.

And after the not-so-funny thing, Bonnie laughed, for the thing that was not-so-funny had happened to Rick, and not to her. Then, realizing that the not-so-funny thing was not so bad, Rick smiled, and they continued walking down by the junipers in Sophomore Yard...

Help by the Frowning Lane

by Jay Carter III (and others)

"I never said I wanted raspberries," I said. "Take them back. I want blackberries."

"But you never said you wanted blackberries," Kevin replied with a decided frown. "You just said 'berries.' How is it my fault if you didn't get what you wanted when you weren't specific about it in the first place?"

But he didn't stay to argue anymore. He left, like he always does. I watched him go, with a frown on my face as well. He'd be back with the blackberries. And I didn't have it in my heart to stop him.

I stood, prying several dollars from my billfold and slapping them onto the glasstop of the cafe table next to my un-berried shortcake topped with whipcream, still blanch-white, unblemished by fresh purple fruit juices. I never mean to make him feel this way; it just comes out of me, like a thick worm that just has to get out of my throat. And it's only after he leaves that I can swallow it again, and come to my senses.

I stared at the bills for awhile, ignoring the people looking at me. Finally, I decided I couldn't face him when he got back. Not this time. I turned, and walked away, down the frowning lane that I'd traveled so many times before...