Creative Writing: Breaking The Poop

“Wake up,” that’s what I heard after passing out from all the blows to the face. My vision is blurred I’m trying to stay awake but I lost consciousness; all of a sudden I felt a splash of coldness on my face, and I woke up gasping for air. The man with the deep ominous voice said, “Wakey wakey little man” I replied, “where the h*ll is Mako!” when I was fully aware of where I was, that’s when I started to panic.

One day, cutting through the swamp, David comes across the remains of old Indian souls and discovers a skull with jewelry still buried on the bodies. As David kicks at the skull, he hears a voice and looks up to see a black man seated on a stump just looking. The man, wearing a black sash around his body, has a soot-stained face, which makes it appear as if he works in some fiery place. David soon recognizes the stranger as the devil, the black man. Twenty years later we had a family reunion with all my relatives and they started talking about the fire.

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

So if you’re riding a strapping 4 or 5-year-old, keep in mind that his skeleton isn’t fully mature yet! He might not grow visibly bigger, but his body is still developing into its adult form and that may continue until he’s past his 6th birthday. So be careful not to yank his neck or slam on his back. Horses whose backs are still fusing are more vulnerable to back injuries and structural damage from riding.

“AAH, I must have overslept!” The Hero rushed towards the window, and he saw that Monster Zero must have been busy for at least a few hours. He gathered all his weapons, and ran towards Monster Zero, somewhere where he could not be seen. “Alright, all monsters have a weak point, so where could it be……..aha! Monster Zero’s neck isn’t covered by any scales, so I must attack there!”

“You’re right,” Lucifer began, “I don’t have it in me to kill a human.” He lets go of the blind man. “No, no, wait.” The sinnerman protests, “you have to do it.” “Hold on.

"Your who I'm training" the blonde looked forward, eye glistening with a fire of the days that lay a head. From what Gilbert heard this boy was all smiles and boyish charm but so far the Prussian saw no sign of that, only the look of a determined young man. But Gilbert knew better, he stared into those deep blue iris until he saw it. It was quick and without a well-trained eye, one would have missed it completely, but Gilbert was trained and he saw it. Not regret really but maybe sadness or longing. Some stir of emotion that made him wonder if this kid had the nuts to take down an empire such as the British, who were a force to reckoned with and if Prussia was saying that, then it meant something,

"Ye yi yo yum," annouced the giant, by the name of Gilbert. The giant's wife, Sally, grunned. She was really tired of hearing his voice. "Yes Gilbert?" The giant's wife sighed. "Where is the the hen that lays the golden eggs?" Gilbert bellowed. "Same place as usual," Sally replied. Sally had been waiting for the prophecy to happen. The prophecy of when a curious boy plants a magical seed, that grows all the way up to the realm above the clouds. Sally could hear Gilbert speaking to the hen, with a loud and clear voice. "Lay," he said. Over and over again. He came back in with the eggs. When Gilbert came back in, Sally asked: "How many eggs did our magical hen lay?" Gilbert replied: "Only ten," with only sounding like "Onaley" and ten sounding like "ton".

When Dutch felt they were a safe distance away, he pulled off the road. He and Gilbert jumped out, yanked the Water Company wording and emblems off the truck, and threw them a good distance from the road. Dutch and Gilbert ran to the back of the truck, looked in, and met the gaze of Marcel, Dorian and Saban. They stared at each other in wide-eyed amazement. Marcel chuckled—then laughed. Then they all laughed. They laughed so hard, tears filled their eyes. Even Cedric who was lying on his stomach on the floor of the truck was smiling. With the tension quelled, they regained their composure. Marcel cautioned Dutch to stay off the main roads. By now the Germans were broadcasting news of the raid and checkpoints would be everywhere. Marcel told

The man she watches controls the reality. Controls the very threads of existence, weaves his way through to create something bigger than him. It's sickening, really. Revolting is a better word for it. For some reason she keeps watching him, though. He has small habits that are hard for the eye to see, like subconsciously rubbing the Eye of Agamoto when he is nervous (Or if. The man was hardly nervous), or running his hands through his thick ebony hair. She did notice, however, that his hair is not all the silky raven color. Bits on the side are grayish white, staining his imperfection. It is the little things that catch her eye.

Benji Jeffers sat in silence. He plopped himself down on a rock, slumping into a lazy posture, and stared. Something about his demeanor was eerily calm, looking back on it. After all, we were, in fact, stranded.

Richard awakened with a sudden halt. His nose was immediately harassed by a number of unknown smells. Had they arrived? Was this it?

Kahlua appears as a 12 year old cult leader. He leads a traveling cult of young girls ages 5 to 20 all virgins. When the girls reach 20 there either killed or are deposited in villages that will accept them. Now don't get the wrong idea. Kahlua is a hella gay mortal. He doesn't like girls. No person B, Mako, shows up and is appalled by his cult (its like a lebian worship thang to Kahlua, with Kahlua sitting on a throne of roses in the middle of it all) and tries to turn his girls against him, only to find that Kahlua's cult is frighteningly loyal and faithful.

“I followed you! Rumors flew that you were practically having sex in the middle of the field, so I had to come see for myself.”