Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #332

This is a writing prompt. Bet you can’t do it! Take the 10 random words below and crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story! And remember: after (if) you finish entering your submission into the comment field, 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.) NOTE: Our bolding plugin is gone, so you’ll have to put <b> and </b> around each of your words if you want them to stand out, but NOT REQUIRED THOUGH.

  1. Hubris – arrogance
  2. Eugenics
  3. Road
  4. Roster
  5. Entrepreneur
  6. Noose
  7. Village
  8. Oak
  9. Linotype – a brand of typesetting machine
  10. Kindergarten

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.)

Advertisements

15 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #332”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    It is so lonely here…

    “Dagmar, you genius! This will revolutionize gene therapy. Why, your little device may well be the Linotype of the biotechnology field.” Dr. Mergenthaler practically drooled over the blueprints presented by his graduate student.

    “Thank you sir but, with all due respect, I don’t intend to embark on such a short-sighted course. The PCR Mark IV will herald the rebirth of eugenics.” Here, Dagmar Voight tugged nervously at his silk noose, betraying his bravura. He believed in the science, if not the social, economic and political ramifications of genetic purification.

    “Ah, Dagmar. I’m two steps ahead of you. Do you think you’ll get funding by goose-stepping down that Nazi-infested road? We must reveal your invention, not with the hubris of Galton, but the humility of Mendeleev.” Mergenthaler rolled up the blueprints and pushed them down into the purple PVC tube. “Say, did you ever think about the synchronicity between PVC and PCR?”

    Dagmar took the tube and smiled with relief. Dr. Mergenthaler would not block his plans. He considered the non sequitur for what it was – a rhetorical acquiescence that smoothly linked the conversation to the next topic. Dagmar took a deep breath and said, “I was hoping to arrange a meeting with your silent partners.”

    “Oh, don’t worry about the venture capitalists. Leave all that entrepreneur stuff to me. I’m going to have to rearrange our roster, though. You are hereby freed from teaching those clueless freshmen. Seriously, some of them need to repeat kindergarten!” Mergenthaler laughed heartily as he dismissed his protégé.

    ***

    Somewhere in the tiny Dutch town of Wijk aan Zee, brilliant chess master Arkady Balagan was photographed as he left the mobile sperm bank. If word got out that the village was playing host to the International Federation of Eugenic Organizations, it would probably lose the sponsorship of the prestigious chess event held annually. The IFEO was notorious for following chess tournaments, science fairs and spelling bees, doing everything from surveying children to collecting promising specimens.

    As rule, society was outraged. But the historical precedent was too firmly entrenched, much like a very old oak tree. Indeed, the tree was a symbol for the Eugenics Conference, with roots representing the varied sources from which the discipline drew materials for organizing into a homogenous entity.

    Joe Don Williams was unaware of the precarious coexistence of IFEO with this region. His assignment was to shoot pictures of anyone entering or leaving the big white bus. He scratched himself, took another sip from his flask and waited for the next joker.

  2. And here is this one…. Another serial in the works!

    http://lissthomas.com/time-trouble/

  3. Jake Kampe says:

    “In my professional opinion, the hubris involved in eugenics will send us on a road that will eventually roster an entrepreneurial noose in this village of self-centered arrogance”, read the statement written on the oak based parchment in the classic Linotype that he had not seen since his son was in Kindergarten.

  4. Anklebuster says:

    Jake, Dagmar is angry with your stance…LOL

    Cheers,

    Mitch

  5. Ashley says:

    Angela Cross looked over the roster pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen. Today, her volunteer group didn’t have anything to do, which was a relief after having to work for almost two weeks straight every day after school. A sigh of relief escaped from Angela’s lips as she walked away from the bulletin board towards her bedroom. She had just thrown her backpack onto her bed when her sister yelled at her from the living room.
    “Angie, your boyfriend is here,” Valery, her twin sister, all but screamed at the top of her lungs.
    Angela couldn’t stop the rush of heat from flooding her face, letting her know her face was probably as red a tomato. “He’s not my boyfriend! Now I know why the Nazis’ were firm believers in eugenics,” she muttered the last part to herself as she strode past her sister in the living room.
    Valery had always enjoyed taunting her older twin, which Angela believed was probably her favorite past time aside from hanging out with Chris. The two sisters were nearly identical, except for the fact that Valery had freckles across her cheeks and her light blond hair was cut pixie short compared to Angela’s long blond hair that reached her lower back. When the two had been in kindergarten, they had always been confused for the other. So after that fiasco, the two had done everything they could to be as different from one another as possible.
    Before Angela opened the front door, she took a moment to take a deep breath. Feeling relatively calm, Angela opened the door to see Nick Muller on the other side. Nick had shaggy, black hair and gray eyes, and had a tendency to wear lots of black leather. He was what most people in town labeled as a delinquent, even though he hadn’t committed a single crime. Her father had told her many times since she had begun hanging out with Nick that he was the embodiment of hubris, which she believed was because he didn’t bow down and kiss the ground her father walked upon like everyone else in town did and because for some unknown reason, her father hated Nick’s father, who was an entrepreneur.
    “Hey, Nick,” Angela greeted, smiling at him as she heard Valery in the other room making kissing sounds, which she ignored.
    “Ready to go,” Nick asked, his lips curved into a slight smile.
    “Yeah,” she replied, pulling the door shut behind her until she saw a certain skull trimmed red head pull up in front of the house. “Oh, Valery your boyfriend is here,” Angela yelled loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
    Nick smirked beside her as Chris’ face burned bright red and Valery stuttered from the living room, “Shut up!”
    “Come on let’s go,” Nick said, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the house.
    The two walked comfortably in silence as they walked down the road, which had turned from concrete to dirt under their feet a couple minutes ago. It was really peaceful this late in the afternoon. A nice relief from all the small town gossip that seemed to permeate the little town they lived in. As they came up to a large oak tree in the road that forced people to go right or left around it, Angela and Nick turned left down an unused path that wasn’t very worn. The path led to a small abandoned village, where witches used to be hung back in the old days. There were even still a few mangled, weather worn nooses that still hung from the branches of some of the trees. Not many people knew of the old village a couple miles from town anymore, so it was like their own personal world.
    Nick grabbed her hand and gently tugged her along towards an old shop, where a linotype machine still sat in the window. Spray painted on the window was the question “Will you go out with me?” with little designs around it. Glancing at Nick out of the corner of her eye, she saw a little pink blush coloring his cheeks as he looked anywhere but at her. Angela couldn’t help but grin, catching Nick off guard before pulling him down to kiss her. He was shocked for a moment, before he kissed her back in return.
    The moment was ruined by a voice booming in the silence, “Step away from the girl!”
    Angela broke away from Nick and groaned as she saw her father, Charles Cross, standing a couple feet away with a flashlight pointed at the two of them and still in his police uniform.
    “Nicholas Muller,” her father grunted, before snapping, “Alright you two get in the car.”
    The two of them grumbled, before trudging up to the squad car parked on the side of the road. Sliding into the back seat, they both sat there as Charles stood outside and talked on the phone.
    “So was that a yes,” Nick whispered.
    “Hmm, I believe it was,” Angela whispered back. “And I believe that was the first crime you’ve committed.”
    “True,” he mused silently, “and about to commit a third.”
    “What was the second,” she asked curiously.
    “Kissing an angel and I’m about to do it again,” he whispered, before giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.
    Angela playfully slapped him as her father got into the driver’s seat. “You’re so corny.”
    “But you love it,” Nick taunted, as her father glanced into the rearview mirror as Nick placed another chaste kiss on her lips.

  6. […] Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #332 (creativecopychallenge.wordpress.com) […]

  7. In a hubris haze of eugenics gone wild, a scientist leers at a road less traveled. His personal roster of perfection stares back through the eye of an entrepreneur with a noose around a village of idiots.

    Years, so many years in unlocking the intricacies of the human brain. His own genius mapping his course through countless experiments and endless testing with a roller coaster ride through discovery and despair.

    Along an oak shelf sits his failures in Linotype precision, reminding him how far he has come. Lifeless forms floating in formaldehyde ruin, whispering their secrets in kindergarten fashion as they wait for salvation and all that is unknown.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s