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What would reepbot say?

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The park was full of dogs and cats of all different breeds playing together under the mid-afternoon sun. A small fluffy white dog by the name of Wally walked, with his tail wagging furiously, quickly to an abandoned park bench to have his lunch. Wally, being careful of not getting his white fur stuck in the seat, sat down and unwrapped his sandwich with his paws. The heady aroma of salami and cheese hit Wally’s nostrils immediately. He was about to eat when out of the corner of his eye he saw a white bird dropping on the seat.

“Disgusting! The state they keep these parks in. “, Wally muttered to himself.

As Wally looked around for something to wipe the mess off, a sleek black cat, with eyes yellow and limbs nimble, leapt out from behind the bushes and on to the bench.

“Hello Wally.” Purred the Cat.

“Fiona! What are you doing here?”

“I’m just here to see an old friend.”

“Well you are no friend of mine. Please leave me alone and let me eat my lunch in peace.”

“Oh, that is a tasty lunch you have. What is that? Salami and cheese.”

“Yes it is. Now go away!”

“Ok.”

Before Wally could respond Fiona leapt on him and knocked him off the bench. Wally hit the ground with a thud. With his mouth wide open he watched as Fiona gracefully ran away from him.

“Stupid cat. Now where is my san….”

Wally gasped as he looked at his paws. He could see no sandwich between them. Nor could he see any cheese and salami sandwich on the bench or on the grassy hill behind him.

“Fiona!”

Wally growled as he slowly got up. That damn cat. He should have known that Fiona wanted his sandwich. Old friend indeed! He was sick of her games. If it wasn’t a stolen sandwich it was a knocked down pot plant or playing music too loud in the stree.

Wally, his stomach rumbling, walked towards where he had last seen Fiona. She had continued on over the small hill. Wally walked over the hill. Down at the bottom of the hill the path diverged into two separate directions. One continued on, and the other went to the left. The path to the left lead to a small dark forest with tangled weeds and strange creatures. The path that continued on was clear and sunny with the river next to it. Wally looked up at the rotting sign. The writing fading and hard to read. However there was a magpie, looking all haughty with its clean black and white feathers, sitting on top of it.

“Good afternoon! Can you please help me?” said Wally with a big cheesy grin.

“Password” solemnly said the magpie.

“I’m sorry?”

“Password. You must give me the password if you want to pass me.”

“What? Are you serious?”


“Deadly serious.”

“Well what happens if I don’t give you the password?”

“I shall chuck eggs at you.”

“But you haven’t got any eggs.”

“They are in my backpack over by the trees just for such an occasion.”

Shaking his head, Wally, who often jumped at the sound of darkness, chose to continue on straight ahead. He had just gone a couple of metres from the sign when he felt something sticky and runny at the back of his head. He stopped and looked up to see the magpie getting some eggs from a small blue and yellow striped backpack, taking aim, and throwing them at him.

“I told you what would happen!” exclaimed the magpie as he continued to chuck eggs at Wally.

“Leave me alone! I have stuff to do!” Shouted Wally who was trying to dodge the eggs.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you disobeyed me”

“Oh please. Stop it.”

“No!”

The magpie continued to throw eggs at him. Wally, who could sense the night chill starting to creep through, bared his teeth, and grabbed something from his pocket.

“I’m warning you...”

The magpie, searching for more eggs from his backpack, got the shock of his life when a small rock hit him on the side of the head. He went straight down. He did not move. He was dead. Wally, lying on the grass next to him, quickly leapt up and continued on his way. The magpie lay there silently, his backpack half covering him and some cracked eggs leaking out onto the grass. Wally did not look back.

Wally continued to look for the rest of the day. His hind legs were getting heavier, and the sun was slowly starting to disappear. He had looked everywhere throughout the park. But he had not been able to find that darn cat with his sandwich. Wally was just about to head back to his car when he smelt it. He smelt his cheese and salami sandwich. He sniffed again, this time more deeply. Yes, it was definitely his sandwich. Running towards the smell, his legs suddenly full of life again, Wally could sense that the smell was getting stronger and stronger.

Suddenly he stopped. There, to the right of him, lying in between the bushes, was Fiona on the ground rolling around in agony. The half-eaten cheese and salami sandwich next to her and little specks of vomit all over her fur.

“Oh god,” Moaned Fiona.

“You stupid cat.” Said Wally shaking his head.


“It looked so nice!”

“Oh I bet it did you greedy monster!”

“I think I need to go to the…” groaned Fiona as she vomited onto the bushes.

“What you need is a lesson in respect. Now excuse me please.”

Wally crept under the bush and grabbed the dirty sandwich. He sniffed it and took a bite. Wally licked his lips.

“Well at least my sandwich is ok” Wally smiled as he looked down at the sickly Fiona.

Fiona looked up at Wally and sneered. But Wally just chuckled, shook his head, and walked away with his dirty cheese and salami sandwich.[/QUOTE]
 
(A young man sits on a couch in a sparsely furnished lounge room. A young woman comes down and sits next to him.)


Mark: Is it done?

Jane: Yes.

Mark: Did it take long?

Jane: No, only a few seconds.

Mark: It had to be done.

Jane: We could have…

Mark: No.

Jane: But we…

Mark: It was either him or us.

Jane: Yeah.

Mark: You want a drink?

Jane: No thanks.

Mark: You sure?

Jane: No. I’m fine.

Mark: Your hands are shaking.

Jane: It’s cold. When are they arriving?

Mark: Huh?

Jane: To pick him up?

Mark: Simon rang a couple of minutes ago. He will be here soon. Just caught in some traffic.

Jane: Oh.

(Mark goes out for a few minutes and comes back with some biscuits)

Mark: Want some?

Jane: No.

Mark: They’re your favourite.

Jane: Sorry, I’m just not hungry.

Mark: You have to eat.

Jane: I said no.

(Mark continues to eat the biscuits)

Mark: Was it hard?

Jane: Was what hard?

Mark: You know.

Jane: I don’t know.

Mark: Killing him.

Jane: Henry? Yes. Very hard. But it had to be done.

Mark: Yeah.

Jane: I mean we had no choice.

Mark: You had no choice.

Jane: I did. But they would have killed him anyway

Mark: Yeah. It was better this way.

Jane: Why did he have to cry during the ceremony? He should have known the leader hates that.

Mark: We tried our best.

Jane: Not good enough though.

Mark: Well he should have listened.

Jane: Why can’t you say his name?

Mark: I can’t.

Jane; He was our son.

Mark: I know.

Jane: Then say his name.

Mark: I can’t.

Jane: It’ll be ok, Mark.

Mark: You sure?

Jane: Yeah.

Mark: But…

Jane: Come on.

Mark: H-h-h…

Jane: For fuck’s sake.

Mark: I just…

Jane: You gutless bastard.

Mark: I’m sorry.

Jane: You’re sorry? Henry is dead and that’s all you can say?

Mark: It had to be done, Jane.

Jane: Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who suffocated him. I can’t believe you can just sit there and be so calm.

Mark: Piss off.

Jane: How dare you…

(Jane starts to attack Mark but breaks down and ends up crying next to him.)

Jane: Oh god.

Mark: What have we done?

Jane: I feel sick.

(Mark looks at his watch)

Mark: Bloody traffic.

Jane: We still have time.

Mark: For?

Jane: Making this right.

Mark: It’s too late.

Jane: Not for us.

Mark: The pills.

Jane: Where did you put them?

Mark: In the kitchen cupboard. Third shelf down.

(Jane disappears from the lounge room for a few seconds and comes back with the pills. She gives one to Mark and sits down next to him.)

Jane: One should be enough.

Mark: I hope this works.

Jane: It should. Simon said so.

Mark: Good. I love you.

Jane: I love you too.

(They embrace for one last time. Then they each take the pills.)

Mark: Is it done?

(Mark looks over and sees Jane dead. A few seconds later he drops dead too.)


The End.
 
I have decided that I am going to re-read every Agatha Christie book that she wrote under her own name (I might read the Mary Westmacott novels). I will then do a review of each one and post them on this thread.
 
reepbot said:
I have decided that I am going to re-read every Agatha Christie book that she wrote under her own name (I might read the Mary Westmacott novels). I will then do a review of each one and post them on this thread.
Click to expand...
I'd be more impressed if you read every Choose your own adventure and explored every possible adventure.
 
Mooseface said:
Are you trying to scare everyone away?
Click to expand...
To be fair, Jessy_Girl has kindly drawn a courtesy map to the exit, Mutley says he's failing to flourish in the shadow and creating alternate threads for the undesirables, and Connoisseur is spreading ridiculous and defamatory conspiracy theories. Whatever bleachy thinks he's doing for the effort, that as well.

reepbot hasn't pointed to the door, asked anyone to leave, suggested people post less or created threads for the specific purpose of quarantining the undesirables, or donned a 6 month long tinfoil hat. He's a bizarre science project you want to poke to see his expression. It's his thread. Poke him.
 
Last edited:
reepbot said:
The park was full of dogs and cats of all different breeds playing together under the mid-afternoon sun. A small fluffy white dog by the name of Wally walked, with his tail wagging furiously, quickly to an abandoned park bench to have his lunch. Wally, being careful of not getting his white fur stuck in the seat, sat down and unwrapped his sandwich with his paws. The heady aroma of salami and cheese hit Wally’s nostrils immediately. He was about to eat when out of the corner of his eye he saw a white bird dropping on the seat.

“Disgusting! The state they keep these parks in. “, Wally muttered to himself.

As Wally looked around for something to wipe the mess off, a sleek black cat, with eyes yellow and limbs nimble, leapt out from behind the bushes and on to the bench.

“Hello Wally.” Purred the Cat.

“Fiona! What are you doing here?”

“I’m just here to see an old friend.”

“Well you are no friend of mine. Please leave me alone and let me eat my lunch in peace.”

“Oh, that is a tasty lunch you have. What is that? Salami and cheese.”

“Yes it is. Now go away!”

“Ok.”

Before Wally could respond Fiona leapt on him and knocked him off the bench. Wally hit the ground with a thud. With his mouth wide open he watched as Fiona gracefully ran away from him.

“Stupid cat. Now where is my san….”

Wally gasped as he looked at his paws. He could see no sandwich between them. Nor could he see any cheese and salami sandwich on the bench or on the grassy hill behind him.

“Fiona!”

Wally growled as he slowly got up. That damn cat. He should have known that Fiona wanted his sandwich. Old friend indeed! He was sick of her games. If it wasn’t a stolen sandwich it was a knocked down pot plant or playing music too loud in the stree.

Wally, his stomach rumbling, walked towards where he had last seen Fiona. She had continued on over the small hill. Wally walked over the hill. Down at the bottom of the hill the path diverged into two separate directions. One continued on, and the other went to the left. The path to the left lead to a small dark forest with tangled weeds and strange creatures. The path that continued on was clear and sunny with the river next to it. Wally looked up at the rotting sign. The writing fading and hard to read. However there was a magpie, looking all haughty with its clean black and white feathers, sitting on top of it.

“Good afternoon! Can you please help me?” said Wally with a big cheesy grin.

“Password” solemnly said the magpie.

“I’m sorry?”

“Password. You must give me the password if you want to pass me.”

“What? Are you serious?”


“Deadly serious.”

“Well what happens if I don’t give you the password?”

“I shall chuck eggs at you.”

“But you haven’t got any eggs.”

“They are in my backpack over by the trees just for such an occasion.”

Shaking his head, Wally, who often jumped at the sound of darkness, chose to continue on straight ahead. He had just gone a couple of metres from the sign when he felt something sticky and runny at the back of his head. He stopped and looked up to see the magpie getting some eggs from a small blue and yellow striped backpack, taking aim, and throwing them at him.

“I told you what would happen!” exclaimed the magpie as he continued to chuck eggs at Wally.

“Leave me alone! I have stuff to do!” Shouted Wally who was trying to dodge the eggs.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you disobeyed me”

“Oh please. Stop it.”

“No!”

The magpie continued to throw eggs at him. Wally, who could sense the night chill starting to creep through, bared his teeth, and grabbed something from his pocket.

“I’m warning you...”

The magpie, searching for more eggs from his backpack, got the shock of his life when a small rock hit him on the side of the head. He went straight down. He did not move. He was dead. Wally, lying on the grass next to him, quickly leapt up and continued on his way. The magpie lay there silently, his backpack half covering him and some cracked eggs leaking out onto the grass. Wally did not look back.

Wally continued to look for the rest of the day. His hind legs were getting heavier, and the sun was slowly starting to disappear. He had looked everywhere throughout the park. But he had not been able to find that darn cat with his sandwich. Wally was just about to head back to his car when he smelt it. He smelt his cheese and salami sandwich. He sniffed again, this time more deeply. Yes, it was definitely his sandwich. Running towards the smell, his legs suddenly full of life again, Wally could sense that the smell was getting stronger and stronger.

Suddenly he stopped. There, to the right of him, lying in between the bushes, was Fiona on the ground rolling around in agony. The half-eaten cheese and salami sandwich next to her and little specks of vomit all over her fur.

“Oh god,” Moaned Fiona.

“You stupid cat.” Said Wally shaking his head.


“It looked so nice!”

“Oh I bet it did you greedy monster!”

“I think I need to go to the…” groaned Fiona as she vomited onto the bushes.

“What you need is a lesson in respect. Now excuse me please.”

Wally crept under the bush and grabbed the dirty sandwich. He sniffed it and took a bite. Wally licked his lips.

“Well at least my sandwich is ok” Wally smiled as he looked down at the sickly Fiona.

Fiona looked up at Wally and sneered. But Wally just chuckled, shook his head, and walked away with his dirty cheese and salami sandwich.
Click to expand...
[/QUOTE]


ELL OH ELL !!

no one but NO ONE can cut'n'paste like YOU
 
Witty Banter said:
To be fair, Jessy_Girl has kindly drawn a courtesy map to the exit, Mutley says he's failing to flourish in the shadow and creating alternate threads for the undesirables, and Connoisseur is spreading ridiculous and defamatory conspiracy theories. Whatever bleachy thinks he's doing for the effort, that as well.

reepbot hasn't pointed to the door, asked anyone to leave, suggested people post less or created threads for the specific purpose of quarantining the undesirables, or donned a 6 month long tinfoil hat. He's a bizarre science project you want to poke to see his expression. It's his thread. Poke him.
Click to expand...
Hahahah. Can't call me a passive aggressive 'liker' anymore, but once again my name on your lips!

tumblr_mbheyeRlxw1ramohxo1_500.gif


Time to come up with some new reason to be obsessed with talking about me...

Or go back to staying classy, your choice!
 
bleachy_dude said:
Hahahah. Can't call me a passive aggressive 'liker' anymore, but once again my name on your lips!

tumblr_mbheyeRlxw1ramohxo1_500.gif


Time to come up with some new reason to be obsessed with talking about me...

Or go back to staying classy, your choice!
Click to expand...
Out of 100, how close is reepbot to cracking under the accumulating weight of your nose-licking like campaign? Surely we're getting closer.
 
Witty Banter said:
Out of 100, how close is reepbot to cracking under the accumulating weight of your nose-licking like campaign? Surely we're getting closer.
Click to expand...
Who mentioned anything about reepbot? Not me!
Don't be hypocritical.
It's obvious that you don't like me, for whatever reason. Life's like that.
 
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