the "let's write ron's book" game

[eggers]

MURDER AT THE SUPER BOWL, by Ron Bennington

San Francisco hadn't experienced a sight like this since the days of fags and rags; hits and misses; stiletto heals. And it was hot day too and all and the Super Bowl was going to be grand: the Steelers and the 49ers to settle the bet, to crown a champion. People were chearing and cheerleaders were chearing. Fun and games and fags - everyone was happy and gay. Some were high and those who were high were happy too.
But Al was not happy - no sir ee! Al, an old grouch with an ace to grind. Out to get revenge in front of a national audience. At the Super Bowl, the grand spectacular. Al, a gun, and an axe. The camera's were rolling and the girls were jumping. Al and his gun. Two bullots and three hours.
Al looking around. 3Com Park and Al looking with gun in his pocket. And the teams were playing and there was Al and it was all cool and nice here in San Francisco were people howl and poet's write. A fag and a light. This is San Francisco and this is the Super Bowl!

[so let's see how far we can get with ron's book - whoever can, continue the story - write a sentence or two or three - feel free to stray from the subject at hand]

:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[Zipgun]

The end.

<img src=http://www.virtue.nu/atamichimpo/skidmarksig2.jpg width="300" height="100>

[Gwen]

Do you feel any sense of accomplishment having posted this? Does it make you feel any better about yourself?
Also, stop it with the "fake" bad spelling. That schtick belongs to Sheepy!

<img src=http://members.hometown.aol.com/_ht_a/sheeplovr2/images/1gwensquirrel.jpg>
Thanks Sheepy!

[TheGameHHH]

By the way, the Super Bowl would never be played at 3Com. It's too cold.

IT'S TIME TO PLAY THE GAME-AHHH!

<IMG SRC="http://www.burntrailradio.com/RFnetTheGameHHH.jpg">

[girl germs]

hmm, would it hurt to maybe try and play along? i know this thread won't probably go anywhere...but trying isn't really that hard at all.

<i>"Al looking around. 3Com Park and Al looking with gun in his pocket. And the teams were playing and there was Al and it was all cool and nice here in San Francisco were people howl and poet's write. A fag and a light. This is San Francisco and this is the Super Bowl!"</i>

his desperate desire for revenge was quickly making him spastic as he walked back and forth, thinking about the killing spree which would take place in less than three hours. and oh yeah, we was also thinking about some hot young boys in bikinis.

"oh yeah, that's it...let me spread some hot oil all over your delicate virginal body..." al thought to himself....

yes, i know that sucked, but, yeah, oh well.

next next next??? and i don't even think it has to be a whole paragraph, you can just write like on short nonsense sentence.

[i am not eggers]

<p align="center" font face="arial"><embed src="http://www.dork.com/noway/ggg.swf" quality=high width="280" height="80"><br>walk right, talk right, strong jaw and strong diction.</p>

[eggers]

'round the neighborhood those in the know knew about Al; about his wants and his needs and about his gun; a good gun, cleaned once a week, with holes drilled in it so it wouldn't make a noise. And the people knew this and they kept shut 'cause Al was crazy and unpredictable and it was not smart to talk about Al... but each was curious like any sane man would be curious and each wondered to one's self the nights before: "who will Al target and why and what will happen when there is a murder at the Super Bowl and who will win the Super Bowl?"
"So, that's fifty on Jeremy?" asked the bookie in the corner bar, taking the money, and jotting some notes. His black and white notebook. The bookie was Joe and he was from parts unknown. Some say Jersey although no one is sure - Internet concensus says Jersey and Interent concensus has a good track record.
And as the money exchanged hands the people looked out and about because they themselves knew about the story of Al and the Super Bowl. One particular drunken guy yelled: "Al ain't goin' da murda no one 'cause Al don't not exist."
No one replied because they knew that they couldn't. Fear. Envy. Deceipt. Greed. And Al and his gun and a murder that was going to happen. A bet that was placed, to go along with other bets. On who was going to get hit. Still, no one had ever seen Al and maybe the drunken man is right: maybe, just maybe, Al doesn't exist.
Jeremy was a weird man too. Ambiguous at heart and very very ugly. A nose that started here and all the way ended over there. Overweight and smelly. A sight not be seen. "Jeremy the fatso who's going to be shot by Al at the Super Bowl" say the neighborhood kids, some naked, some not, all cool and whatnot but is Jeremy really Al's target?
At the same corner bar once more a woman walks in. A trench coat from top to bottom. Sunglasses, lip stick, and a pair of fake breasts courtesy of husband number two. Her name, Melissa, her drink, martini. Silence and smoke and people drinking. Melissa at the bar looking. People singing and others crying. Al amongst them. Melissa here. Al there. Joe taking bets. Jeremy scared. Fear. Deceipt. Envy. Greed. And the Super Bowl is on Sunday and who will win the Super Bowl?
Melissa drinks another and the music gets louder. She's waiting for someone, but whom and why and why is she drinking so many martinis? Joe takes another bet - two hundred more on Jeremy. A black and white notebook and notes taken and martinis served. Three o'clock on the Tuesday mortning before the Super Bowl. Pots and plants. Memory cells gone arie. Stars in the sky shining. Cocaine snorted. Erosion.
And as all this is happening, a man walks in, the man Melissa is waiting for, a man she has never met before.

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[Jennitalia]

hmm, would it hurt to maybe try and play along?



don't egg him on ;)

<IMG SRC="http://www.chaoticconcepts.com/bans/jensig.gif">

[JustJon]

But the Superbowl is in New Orleans this year

<img src="http://www.chaoticconcepts.com/bans/rfjustjon3.jpg">

[eggers]

Joe never asked but he always knew. A connisseur by trade, he hitchhiked his way to San Francisco back in the day. "Over in Iowa one time I rode with a farmer who was on his way to buy a hoe," Joe started, reminiscing about the past and trying to predict the future. And Joe liked telling stories and this was going to be just like any other story Joe was going to tell, except that today was Tuesday and the Super Bowl is Sunday.
Joe's pal interrupts and asks for a freebie. It's not Joe's bar and the freebie is served. As the bathroom empties and the ceiling fan twirls. Eventually, the bar will close for the night. Moreover, Joe's eyes will shut and he will rest at last, but not now.
"And what happened was, you see, I didn't know what a hoe was - me a city boy and all - and I was all excited about what I was getting myself into." Stocky and sadistic with a strange fetish involving urine. San Francisco loved Joe and Joe acknowledged the love by filling the drinks to the top; spiking dry drinks with mixed drinks; erasing memories of old and bad; a better world and it will all be because of Joe.. or Ken... or Harry... or whoever Joe was pretending to be tonight.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[RF Godfather]

I tried to do this before on another thread and I got no help, "E"! I won't even bother. No offense.

http://members.aol.com/razorxhall/images/rfmark.jpg
I am the One who reeks of "limited" rockedness! Yoink! Narc! Meow!

THE PROTOTYPE<marquee> RFW UNCROWNED UNDISPUTED WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!</marquee>

[eggers]

[Status Report]

Several characters have been created that people can try to develop:
Joe, the bartender; Melissa, the drunk; Jeremy, the pig; & of course Al.
So, whoever wants, can write about one particular character in one particular setting; and then at the end we'll put things together to make sense... and to clear one thing up, like in the movie Casino we started off by showing a scene from the present (Al, trying to find someone at the Super Bowl to murder, vs. Robert De Niro being blown up), and then telling the story of what led to this happening. To keep thing simple, we'll just recount the events of Tuesday, leading up to Sunday. Also, remember one of the things that Ron wants: naked girls in the kitchen cooking... so let's try to fit that into the book as well.
:)
Anyways laters eggers

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[girl germs]

<i>"To keep thing simple, we'll just recount the events of Tuesday, leading up to Sunday. Also, remember one of the things that Ron wants: naked girls in the kitchen cooking... so let's try to fit that into the book as well."</i>

...and then pigs flew.

eggers, i think you killed your own thread.

<p align="center" font face="arial"><embed src="http://www.dork.com/noway/ggg.swf" quality=high width="280" height="80"><br>walk right, talk right, strong jaw and strong diction.</p>

[erinmoran]

"Joe"...melissa said as she blinked her good eye "can i have another Manhatten?" "Sure" he said..."You have a phone call by the way"..Holy shit!...Really?"..as she hopped up...She then took off and ran to the phone knocking over the scumbags in her way....................................

<img src="http://www.dork.com/noway/em3.jpg"height=100 width=300

i touched Scott Baios junk

[eggers]

"You must be Melissa," said the mysterious man dressed in black, his face hidden from the light. A tough man with a tough past; his friends call him Paulo.
"I've been waiting here for oh so many hours," moaned Melissa, and looking at her mysterious date up and down. Dizzy. Martinis. Smoke and stardust and a mystery man she has never met before.
"I'll have a Jack's on the rocks" yelled Paulo at the barkeep and Joe proceeded to the call, wandering aimlessly from here to there to pour the drink. Time passes and people come and go and here is Joe, a hick from Jersey, making a drink for Paulo, a man who is dressed black, who is here to meet Melissa, and who just happens to be the head referee for Sunday's game.
"Thanks man," and there's a wink here and a wink there. Paulo and Joe, lost brothers in a different world. When the forces collide the continal rift will shift.
Melissa. A young drunk, married five times to five different men. Diamond rings and parties and martinis. And one has got to ask, what is seductive Melissa doing with poor Paulo? More specifically, what is it in particular that Melissa wants?
The siren screams and some people holler. It's closing time. Beds to make and then to do it all over again. Tuesday tells us goodbey. Five more days and four more nights. It's the Steelers and the 49ers. It's Al and Joe and Jeremy and Melissa and Paulo... and others. One game. One murder. The future does not need to come.... but who can stop the future?
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[Sheeplovr]

That schtick belongs to Sheepy!




ist not schtick i really am a bad speller :(

number 333 its the way to be
http://members.hometown.aol.com/_ht_a/walrus701/images/breadsig.jpg
POWER AND CHAOS

[eggers]

Nobody - and I mean nobody - expected to see Jeremy. But here he was, all flesh and bone and fat of him, pranting down Union Square, out to buy the daily bread.
"Why hello Mr. Jeremy," said the baker, while, at the same times, the neighborhood kids shouted out in unison, "It's Jeremy the fatso who Al is going to murder at the Super Bow!" Jeremy buys his bread, turns around, and cautiously walks back, looking here and there. The paranoia of being a marked man. An ego gone wacko. Mind games are a terrible trick or treat.
Sure he's nervous and why wouldn't he be. Above all, everyone is within suspicion as Al has not yet revealed himself. "Are you Al? Are you going to kill me at the Super Bow?" a paranoid Jeremy asks strangers and whatnot on his journey back. The sweaty pig mostly picks on helpless homeless men in the street. But he knows it himself that his maneuvers are meritless; Al, rumor has it, is a retired gentleman in his mid-'30's living carefully at a surrounding complex. But Jeremy tries and the homeless people scatter here and about, fearing the wrath of Jeremy's nerves, wanting to survive another day or two or three, until the Super Bowl.
So Jeremy is skipping and yelling and heading back, bread in hand, stomach growling and all, when, if by coincidence or if by no coincidence at all, Paulo stagertly darts out of a luxury high rise. Yes, that luxury high rise; Melissa's luxury high rise.
As Jeremy does not know Paulo nor Melissa, he continues with his day, not taking notice, and still scared to the bone. And as for the referee for Sunday's game, well, he looks tired, covertly smiling, patting strangers on the back, including Jeremy. A wild night.
In different directions the two men head; Jeremy to eat his lunch, to take a bath, to relax his mind. Paulo to the stadium where there will be cameras waiting, but none for him, a suitcase to collect, a game to fix... and a murder to plan.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

This message was edited by eggers on 12-10-01 @ 1:11 PM

[eggers]

As it turned out, Joe got lucky last night. In and out; bagels and donuts; a girl and a guy. Lisa, a rookie chearleader for the Steelers, lost in the dawn of night. Joe driving home after a hard day's work. A stop and a question. Someone lost. A lost soul. A connection made in and out.
"I can give you a ride." A '76 'vette. Joe and Lisa and a change plans as Lisa is 21, and, well, she's horny and Joe looks cute and there's also a part in his movie that she might be good for. Joe and Lisa. Joe's condo by the beach. A rookie chearleader, lost in a big city, in a big world. A universe of lost souls.
'till the light of the day a cometh. Lisa, late for practice. Eggs for breakfast and a kiss goodbye. A one night stand. A movie role promised in a sea of broken promises.
Lisa leaves and Joe sleeps. And the maid comes and Joe continues to sleep and the maid leaves. The machine answers the phone once and twice. And the third time, Joe answers the phone.
"I'll be right over." There was a fire, at the bar.
And, at the exact same time that Joe hangs up the phone, over at the stadium, Lisa passes a barage of reporters and cameras and knocks on door numbered A204. The door opens, Lisa enters, and before one can count to nine Lisa is naked. A rogue head referee, an innocent rookie chearleader, a suitcase filled with money. Bagels and donuts. For both, apparently, it's time for lunch.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

This message was edited by eggers on 12-10-01 @ 6:18 PM

[eggers]

Jeremy eats and drinks and cries and eats some more. The weight of the world and the weight of the food takes its toll, and an afternoon siesta is approached. While Jeremy is sleeping Al does not sneak into Jeremy's mansion to kill him or otherwise obstruct him.
Jeremy sleaps peacefully and carefully. A security system costing ten thousand and one dollars. Jeremy and his peace of mind. The smell is sickening. People and places and things. A dreamlike state. Dreams and whatnot. To fantasize on level ground in an artificial world. The use of hallucinogens is not encouraged.
The door bell wakes Jeremy. A package from him. From mother? From father? From Al? A tip for the delivery guy and a nervous look. The continuation of things. As is or better of.
Jeremy opens the package. A newspaper clipping. March 17, 1977. The past that continues to haunt Jeremy. Jeremy, a marked man. And also Super Bowl tickets. Two of them. For Jeremy and a guest. Jeremy weighs the options. Life or death. Live or television. Fear or courage. Usual or better off.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[erinmoran]

Staring off into space...his mind wanders. Numbers and letters float before his eyes......row a .....seat 4....parking lot....20.00....superbowl. He suddenl finds himself in his kitchen...not remembring how he got there....spraying cheeze whiz onto invisible crackers. He realizes he is out of cheezwhiz.........

im confused too....

<img src="http://www.dork.com/noway/em3.jpg"height=100 width=300

i touched Scott Baios junk

[BrandonKattel]

Meanwhile...back at the crackhouse....

[eggers]

Back in the day, Melissa set cat trends and whatnot. Husband number one was a lawyer and husband number two was a shock jock... and then things got interesting!
But through thick and thin, opium and mushrooms, diamonds and pearls, Melissa was a woman trying to find herself. Now no one has ver found themselves in Los Angeles - and that's where Melissa is from - but she tried. One day, to find herself, she violated her clean box score and escorted Gina Goodward, the actress, to the Blockbuster Movie Awards. And not to say that Melissa liked the company of other women - and also not to say the opposite - but she is and Gina had a wonderful time, at the awards, in the limo, at the after party, again in the limo, and finally in Gina's pad in Beverly Hills.
And some say that Melissa has found herself. Past lesbianism, drug addiction, and alcoholism. Melissa, now 36, seems to be on top of the world, a number one.
And all this is true - this goes without saying - so, maybe, it doesn't really matter that Melissa has just called Al, inviting him over. Maybe, just maybe, it doesn't really matter that Al was expecting Melissa's phone call. And maybe, just maybe, it doesn't really matter that Al was husband number three, the paid assassin.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[eggers]

"What happened?" Joe asks. A corner bar, a neighborhood landmork, a minor fire that looks supsicious nonetheless.
"Nothing serious Joe; thank God these guys know how to do their job." The Fire Department of San Francisco and Oakland. The men who saved the building, that housed a bar, where a black and white notebook was kept. The same men, who, in four days, will be honored during Half Time of the Super Bowl.
Anyway, the black and white notebook is safe and nice and, without saying, that was the first thing that Joe went after. For, as everyone knows, that black and white notebook does not just contain bets on who's going to win the Super Bowl and who Al is going to murder at the Super Bowl; but also hookers' telephone numbers, lucky charms and other such paraphonilia, and the first name of Joe's long lost brother, Paulo (explanation: Joe was adopted by the Poo's of Bayonne, NJ, and Paulo was adopted by the Gooty's of Tampa, FL; and before Joe turned eighteen and ventured west on his own, he went to the adoption agency where he found out that most records of his adoption were lost and that all they know about his brother is that his name is Paulo; furthermore, Paulo's foster parents did not even tell him that he was adopted).
And so Joe was there and the bar's owner looked happy because business might not be interrupted greatly; at most, one day for repairs; and then back to usual, which during the Super Bowl means lot's and lot's of money.
Money is good; i'ts one of the things that helps the world go 'round. People live and people die and world's collide. Events happen for a reason or else they would not have happened at all. Events - and just that - events have led us to today. And it will be events that will lead us to tomorrow... and then we die.
Fear. Deceipt. Envy. Greed.
Al... Joe... Melissa... Jeremy... Paulo... Lisa... and Gina Goodward, on a flight from L.A., about to join the foray.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[RF Godfather]

The Freak is stealing my thunder... grrr.... hehehehe

*evil smile*

http://members.aol.com/razorxhall/images/rfmark.jpg
I am the One who reeks of "limited" rockedness! Yoink! Narc! Meow!

THE PROTOTYPE<marquee> RFW UNCROWNED UNDISPUTED WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!</marquee>

[eggers]

High times in San Francisco where the wind burns. A walk-up and streets turning. Light of the world shining upon. To be right here right now. To love it so much that you begin to wonder. A simple game and a simple murder... the sun sets.
As men and women were working day and night to make repairs to the neighborhood bar, Lisa and Paulo recited an unwritten pact. Of love and death and crime and punishment. Then was practice and then was press time... for the players (chearleaders and referees do not get any press time). And Lisa is cute, don't get me wrong; she's an NFL chearleader for goodness sake's! She works out an hour a day or two. Toned abs and whatnot, big breasts and big hair. Hailing from Indiana. A farmer's daughter, a brother's sister. All-American and then some.
She had ballet and gymnastics for grade school and the star quarterback and the team's coach (together!) for high school. And through thick and thin and hardwork and pushing and blowing and everything else she got her big break when a Steeler's PR guy saw her one day at the gym. And even before they had sex that same day, the chearleading job was Lisa's. But, again, don't get me wrong! She worked hard for the job and she is an awesome chearleader nonetheless.
So here we are; practice is over; the chearleader's are showering, Lisa amongst them, smiling as always... and as for Paulo... well Paulo picks up the ringing phone in room A204.
"Hello."
"The package was delivered Mr. Gooty."
"Excellent."
The sun sets. The nightcrawlers begin to wake. A long night. Four more nights. A murder at the Super Bowl.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

This message was edited by eggers on 12-12-01 @ 11:00 PM

[eggers]

So what really happened on March 17, 1977? Nothing really. Well, not really nothing, but just not really anything historically noteworthy... but, as we're learning together, things happen for a reason... and there has to be an explanation. A package sent. And a package received. A rogue referee with a shady and otherwise unclear past. And Jeremy, a marked man. But what about Jeremy? And again, what about March 17, 1977?
March 17, 1977 started out like any other day for Jeremy. The heir to the Coleman fortune, Jeremy managed KTWW, Los Angeles' top-rated talk radio station, which he also happened to own. And on March 17, 1977, Jeremy remembers - and everyone else who was on the road that day remembers - morning traffic sucked! An hour on the throughway followed by an hour on the expressway followed by an hour on the highway. A hot spring morning. An unforgiving sun. A desperate woman.
The desperate woman, Jeremy remembers, was up-and-coming actress Gina Goodward. You see, before she was an actress and whatnot, she hosted KTWW's morning show between September 21, 1976 and March 17, 1977. And who know's if it was something in the air or in the cosmos that fateful day, but a person snapped. A person snapped back. And that's all there was to this footnote.
Gina Goodward began her rant at approximately 7:15 A.M. Jeremy was on the throughway, listening. Helpless and whatnot (cellular phones would only have been invented a year later). Listening. This was Gina's rant:
"Good morning listeners... Wednesday morning here on KTWW... Gina in the Morning... ninety-one degrees, i't's boiling outside... it's seven-fourteen in the morning here on KTWW... Gina in the Morning waking you up... and I just want to say that KTWW sucks... I've thought about this a long time... all last night... and the censorship sucks, the rules suck, the station sucks, and Mr. Coleman, you suck an you also stink... and I know that this will probably get me fired... but I don't want to be in f***ing radio anyway... maybe I'll do acting or something because I'm hot... but I just want to get this off my chest... KTWW, you suck... Mr. Coleman is like an f***ing fascist on and off the air... all show hosts are f***ing recquired to follow his rigid rules... his limited scope of programming is played out... he sucks and the station sucks... and until Mr. Coleman himself throws me out of this f***ing studio..."
And Gina Goodward continued for an hour and then for two hours and then for three hours. No one from the radio stopped her because, well, most agreed with her. Jeremy, in his car listening, helpless and whatnot. The truth? Gina fired after a comfrontation, Gina becomes a big star, moans with Melissa, and boards a plane to San Francisco. Jeremy sells KTWW, put's all his money in a company that has a promassing computer program called DOS, and, year's later, becomes a marked man.
History and learning from history's follies. Paulo and the newspaper clipping and Jeremy and the newspaper clipping. March 17, 1977. The headline: "Gina in the Morning Snaps." A picture of Jeremy with his hands in his sides. Gina off to Hollywood with a loyal following. Fans who hate it and others like them.
Today, Wednesday. Wind and water. Oil and vinegar. Fear. Envy. Deceipt. Greed.
And after thinking about it for a while, Jeremy makes up his mind: he will go to the Super Bowl.
Outside, the neighborhood kids sing: "Jeremy he fatso who Al is going to murder at the Super Bowl."
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

This message was edited by eggers on 12-13-01 @ 12:13 AM

[The Belcher]

So Jeremy goes all the way to farkle stadium to watch the dog-races, takes out his gun and kills everyone there, and then himself. And then he goes to 3com stadium to find Al and he kills him too, and then himself. Then he goes to the concession stand and buys a bucket o nachos with extra extra yellow slime-cheese. He wolfs them down in a matter of seconds, and then he kills the concession guy and then himself. That's when Ron appears and kills him again, and then ron kills al dukes again. And then ron goes to the concession stand and buys icecream. Yummmmmm..... he stands there enjoying his icecream and he lights a good Dominican cigar. Aaaaaahhhhhh he says, when a rent a cop comes over and tells him to put it out. Ron puts it out----in the rent-a-cop's eye socket---before he kills him too. Then GVAC shows up, not wearing any pants AGAIN, and proceeds to pee all over the lot of them, and then leaves. SOmebody else shows up and kills everyone everywhere with a hot blast from their rectum, and then he kills himself.

THE END

Ziploc pantaloons RULE!!
AOL IM: Belcherrific

[eggers]

no, belcher, no that's the not the way it went.
:)

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!

[eggers]

hey dan let's team forces
:)
anyways laters eggers

... and as of yesterday, i'm technically no longer a virgin!