Creative Copy Challenge #95

Ali Luke of Ali Ventures fame chose the words for us today.  Show her some comment love and visit her site.

BET YOU CAN’T do this writing prompt. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying all of them together! And remember: after (if) you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.)

  1. Metal
  2. Eclectic – employing individual elements from a variety of sources, systems, or styles: an eclectic taste in music
  3. Renege – To fail to carry out a promise or commitment
  4. Timewarp
  5. Puppet
  6. Toddler
  7. Misppropriated – To appropriate dishonestly for one’s own use; embezzle.
  8. Leather
  9. Guarded
  10. Nightmare

NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks. (And don’t forget to tweet this and share it with your friends.)

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Resources you should check out:
Thesis: Best Damn Theme on the Web
Collective Ink Well: Personalize Your Thesis Theme
Third Tribe Marketing: Marketing done the right way
Story Structure Demystified: Best damn writing book out there

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54 Comments on “Creative Copy Challenge #95”

  1. Shane Arthur says:

    It was a nightmare of metal, flame and burned flesh.

    Like a timewarp, she passed us like nothing, and we were doing 80.

    One mile up a state work-truck towing a caution arrow buggy crept along at 5 miles-per-hour.

    She never saw it.

    We guarded our eyes, but like helpless puppets, couldn’t look away. The impact was worse than any action movie I’d ever seen. This wasn’t scripted. This was real.

    We skid into the grass median and jumped out in a desperate attempt to save the woman, unconscious, slumped over the wheel, arm hanging out the window, front of the car smashed up to the windshield like an accordian.

    The flames erupted immediately. My chest hairs burned off from 15 feet away.

    The fire extinguisher misapproariated and reneged my hopes when I realized it was empty immediately after it sprayed.

    What was that eclectic mixture of pudrid smells? Burned leather and plastic, or burned hair and skin? Awful either way.

    More awful was sitting there like a helpless toddler watching an unconscious, dying woman’s arm rise in the air reflexively with flames shooting from her hand.

    But the worst part was getting a letter in the mail from this woman’s son thanking me for trying to save his mother’s life.

  2. Shane Hudson says:

    I once had a nightmare in which a large dog was being guarded by leather clad – who I am sure had misappropriated in the past – toddler who looked like a puppet doing the timewarp unfortunately for the (now renegade) guard the dog attacked while he was dancing to a somewhat eclectic form of metal music.

    [Blimey… was trying to do it in one sentence but that is far too long for just one to be honest!]

  3. Maria says:

    We used to play this game when I was growing up! Whenever I woke up from a nightmare, my dad would make up a story using whatever eclectic words my sisters and I (even the toddler!) would come up with. Looking back, I’m sure he shamelessly misappropriated the plots from novels he was reading, since our puppets and toys went through a timewarp and emerged clad in metal and leather, preparing to attack a fiercely guarded castle. He wouldn’t always finish the stories, but he would usually renege because we had already fallen asleep!
    *only mostly true

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Maria: Welcome to the CCC. Loved this 1st submission of your. As a father, I was envisioning myself using the same method with my kids. And I think I just might try it.
      Everyone welcome Maria to our addiction. I’ll add your name and URL to our CCC Community page next.

      • Maria says:

        Thanks for the welcome, Shane! This looks like a ton of fun. And yes, my dad did play that game with us girls, though it was usually during road trips. The most memorable story that came out of it included a train wearing a polka-dot tie, which is imagery that has stuck with me to this day!
        By the way, I subscribed to the RSS feed, but it shows the most recent challenge being #92.

        • Shane Arthur says:

          @Maria: That’s awesome backstory.
          Yeah, that damn RSS feed is perplexing us. I’ll pass this comment along to the other guys, though, and see if they can figure it out. It’s so frustrating.

    • Cathy Miller says:

      @Maria-live this story-what a great Dad

  4. Ali Luke says:

    They started the evening sober, in Helen’s living room. The conversation was guarded, treading safe ground: stale office gossip, weekend plans, movies.
    To John, it was rapidly turning into a nightmare. One of those awful getting-to-know-you parties where everyone sat like stuffed puppets, making small talk. He wished he was somewhere else. He wished his brother hadn’t reneged on that promised “urgent” phone call.
    “Another bottle?” someone asked.
    John grabbed one from the eclectic bar behind him – cider jostling for space with chianti. He untwisted the metal cap, and poured liberal glasses for everyone.
    An hour later, they were – drunkenly – attempting the Timewarp, Phillip from Accounts demonstrating a hitherto unsuspected penchant for leather. Misappropriated, John thought, from Helen’s bedroom.
    Of course, just as they fell in a sweaty, giggling heap on the floor, Helen’s toddler – woken by their singing – walked in.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Ali: Outstanding tale of misapprpriated drunkenry. I could visualize that so well.
      So, what did you think of your 1st challenge? I sure hope you like what you did as much as I did, because I’d love to see more.
      (We actually have a group of folks here who have done all 94 challenges. To me, that’s amazing.)

      • Ali Luke says:

        Actually, it wasn’t quite as hard as I thought it would be. I was a bit intimidated by the quality of all your previous submissions (I’ve lurked here, just haven’t jumped into a challenge before). 🙂
        When you get to 100, you should award some sort of medal! 😉

        • Shane Arthur says:

          @Ali: That’s quite surprising coming from a writer such as yourself. I’m wondering how many other people out there feel the same way. I hope not too many.

    • Cathy Miller says:

      @Ali-I think I was at the party. 🙂 well done!

  5. margaret says:

    I carefully guarded my little vintage purse with the metal chain. In it were precious tickets to the Rocky Horror Picture Show and I was dressed in my most eclectic
    outfit, from leather bustier to long, black lace gloves. I had been singing the timewarp song in my head for days. I was worked up and ready to go! God knows, I had even misappropriated  funds set aside to pay bills in order to buy the tickets!

    I do feel bad, however, that I had to renege on going to a friend’s house to sit through a puppet show with a toddler party of ten. That, to me would be weirder than anything happening at the theatre.  A room full of toddlers is the stuff that nightmares are made of!!

  6. “In my nightmares, I’m a toddler again, playing with a metal puppet,” J1m told Dr. Fr3ud, the robotherapist. “I’m trying to enter a high tower guarded by two terrifying magnets.”
    “You fear death,” said Fr3ud, “we all do, that’s normal. What does the puppet in your dream look like?”
    “It’s an eclectic congolmerate; parts of it are wood, parts are flesh, parts are plasma, parts are neon, parts are leather, parts are virtual…it’s hard to describe,” said J1m.
    “I see,” said Fr3ud. “Where did you get this puppet?”
    “I’m not sure, but I feel guilty about having it, like it was misappropriated,” said J1m.
    “‘To err is humanoid, to forgive, divide by zero’,” quoted Fr3ud. “Please go on.”
    “Well, this timewarp of a dream makes me wonder if I’m on the right path in my life,” said J1m. “Am I using my capacity to the fullest? Is there something out there that would be a better use of my talents?”
    “Are you sure you’re still okay with dumping all the cores?” asked Dr. Fr3ud. “I don’t want to renege on my promise not to bring it up again, but this could be latent suppressed guilt manifesting as downtime visualizations. It may also explain your sudden outbreaks of hostility.”
    “I’m sure, Doctor; they were vermin and they had it in for me. It was self-defense; not to mention a significant cost-savings,” said J1m.
    “Very well,” said Fr3ud. “I’m afraid our time is up for this week, we can pick up here next week. In the meantime, promise me you won’t step on any more cleaning botspiders, they’re just doing their job.”
    “Yes, Doctor, I promise,” lied J1m. “I’m sure they’re not monitoring me any more, they’ve learned their lesson.”

  7. Stacia says:


    Confessions of a Gigolo’s Fashion
     
    Hey woman. Last night, I had a nightmare. The whole thing was in a timewarp, so I remember everything very clearly.
     
    I was wearing a leather jacket, unlike everyone in the ballroom who had on obscure cloaks, big bows like dumb cows on their heads, and humongous boobs popping out for the women.
     
    I made an announcement some time after I met eyes with this woman named Juliet. Then it all went blurry and then I was in the middle of making a commitment to entrust $100,000,000 to miss Juliet. In the form of a mixed tape. With love songs.
     
    “…You look wonderful tonight,” I uttered in my lowest voice. I didn’t know why, but her rosy cheeks grew even redder. I like it. And I kept on singing. “As I was saying, Juliet, kill me softly…”
     
    Before I finished my word with “…with this song,” it all went blurry again and I was bobbing my head to a mashup of “Booty Call” with my serenade. So it goes:
     
    Killing me softly, yeah
    I promise, like oh oh oh
    That I really
    Really really really wanna
    Booty call
    with this song
    I promise
     
    I went bobbing like an idiotic duck that goes quack quack quack in da club, but I wasn’t having my cool jacket anymore. I was in a huge cloak and a big bow and bloody eyes popping out at Juliet, apparently from shots of Bloody Marys.
     
    This time, holy Juliet, she had humongous boobs popping out of her Halloween costume, still with the rosy cheeks though. I didn’t know what to sing anymore, so she went on:
     
    “Where’s my mixed tape?”
     
    So I said, I don’t know. I must have misappropriated the $100,000,000 somewhere in time. Perhaps for tons of Bloody Marys. Bloody hell.
     
    My song remixes are nothing compared the background’s eclectic tunes. Something like a woman’s whisper that goes: “Oh oh oh baby”.
     
    Then the dim lights changed. I looked into Juliet’s furious eyes staring back at me, and then it all went blurry again.
     
    This time, I am singing “Wonderful Tonight” on a gigantic stage and obscure puppets in my background moving along with the music, with all four corners of the square guarded with toddlers. The night lights was crazy; there are fireworks and shooting stars all above me, or was it all in my head? I’m not sure, but what’s for sure are those babies. Those dancing babies on all four corners, bobbing their butts to my serenade.
     
    I scanned the crowd for Juliet’s rosy cheeks. She didn’t have gigantic boobies popping out. She dressed like plain Jane, so it’s all fine. Then I hear a faint whisper:
     
    “Where’s my mixed tape?”
     
    And I say, “…You look wonderful tonight.”
     
    Apparently that didn’t charm her. She loves money more than my charms. Sigh. Women.
     
    Obviously I couldn’t renege on my word, because it all goes back and forth. I mean, how can you stay linear in a dream, or, for that matter, in life?
     
    So I woke up, dressed myself in metal armors, wrote a bunch of sonnets, and made countless plays to win all women’s hearts. You know, play prince charming and all.
     
    ~Your Romeo, 1 November 2010

  8. […] ten minutes to spare and want to try your hand at something new? Head on over to the Creative Copy Challenge #95 – I picked the words for it – and follow the […]

  9. Beth says:

    When the company told Everett they’d have to renege on the promotion they’d promised, it was as if he’d fallen into a timewarp. He began kicking and stomping and screaming like an overgrown toddler whose favorite puppet had been taken from him.

    Everything had been riding on that promotion, or more specifically, on the raise that went with it.  Everett was so certain things would work out that he’d already spent a great deal of money on an eclectic array of indulgences. He started with a brand new coupe complete with rich, leather seats. He’d spent a fortune on its shiny, metal wheels.

    Out of desperation, he used his position as an accountant to access the loosely guarded accounts his company owned. However, the misappropriated funds were quickly missed. Everett’s nightmare had only just begun. . .

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Beth: Hey there. Welcome to the CCC. Excellent 1st submission. I had a chuckle, because this reminded me of one of my all-time fav movies, Christmas Vacation, where Griswold doesn’t get the bonus for the pool he already paid for.

      Everyone welcome Beth to the best addiction on the net. I’ll add your name and URL to our CCC Community Links page.

      So, what did you think of the exercise?

      • Beth says:

        Thanks for the warm welcome, Shane! I considered participating in the challenge some months ago, but bailed. Ali’s post today was just the nudge I needed, so I jumped right in before I chickened out. 🙂

  10. Shane Arthur says:

    PROGRAMMING NOTE: There will be no CCC for this Thursday. I’m assuming if your Thanksgiving is as challenging as mine usually are, you won’t have time to get to a computer either.

  11. KaseyS says:

    The puppet show featured ear-piercing heavy metal music and foam-crafted creatures wearing leather and powdered wigs.
     
    Eclectic? Yes. But probably not the best idea for a classroom full of six-year-olds and one visiting toddler who was screaming his lungs out (or possibly singing along – it was hard to tell).
     
    First grade teacher Cindy Schuster had to stop this nightmare. Why did she invite her lazy good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend to bring his ridiculous show into the school?
     
    She knew he had misappropriated the puppets from his former job on the Saturday morning kids’ TV show Polly and the Parakeets. She knew he was stuck in a perpetual timewarp that kept him and that nasty mullet living in the ’80s. But nothing prepared her for this debacle.
     
    Cindy guarded the door and waited to confront him.
     
    She would have to renege on her promise for “one last humping” as he so delicately put it. But could she?

  12. Stacia says:

    LOL! “one last humping” 😀

  13. Marlee says:

    I swear I was in a timewarp at last night’s metal concert. The music had an eclectic sound that came straight out of the early 80’s. The long-haired, leather-pant wearing rockers sang along like puppets while they guzzled bottled beer like a toddler guzzles a bottle of chocolate milk. I was uncomfortable and guarded. I wanted to renege on my promise to attend this nightmare of an event. Unfortunately, I had been caught misappropriating this band’s t-shirt from my boyfriend’s closet out of contempt for the band. I planned to trash the shirt. He thought I wanted to borrow it, so he went and bought us tickets for the show.
    Karma. It’s a stitch.
    This was my first time playing. Great fun. Thanks Ali for mentioning it on your blog!

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Marlee: Hey there. Welcome to the CCC. It’s cool seeing you over here. I always read your copyblogger comments (like your blog too).
      That was a super 1st submission, and a fun, fun read. It took me back to several concerts I’ve attended in the past. Love when that happens.
      Everyone welcome Marlee to the addiction. We do these challenges every Monday and Thursday (except this coming Thursday), so I hope to see you again. I’ll add your name and url to the CCC Community Links page now.

  14. Cathy Miller says:

    @Shane-I am behind due to the 3-Day, 60 Mile Walk for Breast Cancer-check out my post about it, if you’re so inclined=> http://ht.ly/3eOGp
    Since I just got back home, I am doing a collective “Welcome”-maybe you could let the “newbies” know I did it so they are not neglected. Happy Thanksgiving-I am very grateful for CCC! 🙂
    ===============================
    @Beth @Marlee @Maria

    Welcome to the CCC!

    As we crash our metal cymbals in welcome, you are accepted into our eclectic bunch. We’ll never renege on our promise of fun as you enter the timewarp of the addictive CCC.

    No puppet master here; we do our own thing, and appreciate the submissions of all.

    With the innocent joy of a toddler exploring, we take the journey together with heroes and villains with misappropriated direction.  We take on the challenge as we sharpen our pens on the leather strap of creativity. No reason for guarded prose. It all flows free here into the dreams and nightmares of our souls.

    Welcome to CCC!
     

  15. Cathy Miller says:

    Death & the Detective Series
    ======================
    Slamming the metal bars of the cage, the killer planned his final journey. He laid out the eclectic collection of torture and vowed he would not renege on his promise.

    In a timewarp of madness, he was transported to another time. He played the puppet as a toddler until the time where he took the strands. He felt it was his right, his destiny, and not a misappropriated piece of time. But, then did the mad really understand?

    He ran the blade over the leather strap, over and over, with the precision of a perfected task. No matter how guarded, the killer knew, his final victim would know the nightmare that was the past.

  16. Kelly says:

    THIS IS NOT THE STORY OF A NEARLY-FORGOTTEN DOG COLLAR

    The old leather collar, studded with metal hobnails, once misappropriated from my eclectic collection of wistful memories by my toddler, becomes a domineering puppet’s neckwear. He begins immediately to order the other puppets around; I’d even swear he swaggers. I watch him tear the badge off a policeman-puppet with chilling calm (knowing I’ll have to repair that later when the thrill of being destructive wears off). How does my daughter understand that dirty piece of punk nostalgia had the power to transform nerdy suburban kids into aggressive anarchists?

    I’m guarded about my past, even with my new husband. I don’t ask him for details I don’t need. Why put myself in a timewarp and try to explain all the nightmares I’ve walked through, wide awake? If either of us tries to renege on our unspoken promise to let our yesterdays sleep, the trust we cling to each other with will be torn, as surely as Officer Puppet’s gold lamé badge.

    Without that trust? Anarchy.


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