Implied

Tabletop

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Popping:

...

Is this thing on?

Is... It is?

We're recording, right?

Okay.

Hi, I'm Lola. I'm 17, and I'm going to tell you, whoever you are, about that time I became a human experiment.

I was walking down the street with my best friend Chelsey. We stumbled across a man in fully beige clothing. A hat, a trench coat, corduroys, boots. reading a book. Besides wondering why he was wearing such clothing, I dismissed it and we kept walking.

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Average: 1.5 (11 votes)

Rick McGuffin, Private Investigator

Rick McGuffin, Private Investigator

by Inflate123@airytales.net  (@Inflate123)
Special thanks to Cyndi Irresistible (@CynIrresistible) for plot assistance

1.

"A private investigator?" the checkout girl asked. "You mean like in the old movies?"

"Yeah," I sighed, leaving with my bourbon. "Only not like in the old movies."

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Average: 4.1 (18 votes)

Untitled Blueberry Story

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Steve’s Dream (nightmare)

 

Fast, explicit, and strangely provocative; Steve awoke from his dream with a racing heart and sticky moist skin. It felt like the beings were actually touching him, erotically poking and probing the various orifices of his body. But as intense as it was, he recovered quickly, realizing he was in the assurance of his own apartment. Jumping into a nice warm shower, Steve thought to himself that it was going to long day.

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Average: 2.5 (4 votes)

Progression

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It had been 16 days since the incident. At first, Vi had loved hearing all the gossip about what had happened that Friday night. Not that anyone knows exactly what took place anyway, she thought wickedly to herself. She was sitting with a group of friends at a cheap diner next to her college campus along with a couple of her friends, Harry and Kayla. And they were STILL talking about that night! She just couldn’t understand why people wouldn’t get over it. So a blueberry juice soaked room was found and 4 people were missing. It’s college, crazy stuff happens right?

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Average: 2.3 (4 votes)

New Beginning, A

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It was all over the news. For a small town anything tragic made headlines. “Amy Sommers is presumed to be dead. It was a month ago since she went missing…”

And “blah, blah, blah” thought Vi as she smiled to herself and turned off the TV. Of course, she knew what had happened to Amy a month ago. She had been there when the poor lass had swelled up into a giant blueberry and exploded all over Madam Brown’s store of magic paraphernalia and occult doodads.

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Average: 3.3 (9 votes)

Balloon Spray

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"Hand over the purse, lady."  It's a gruff voice out of the night, a threatening bark that leads me to gasp and start involuntarily even though I've come down this forbidding road intentionally in a quest for my unusual brand of fun.  It's an adrenaline shot through my whole body, like boiling water through my veins.  It's time.  I hug my purse protectively closer to my rib, and slowly revolve to face my assailant.  He's there in the yawning shadows between the two dim streetlights, the knife edge a gleaming ribbon in the dark.

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Average: 4.3 (28 votes)

Give the Devil Her Due

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"You're the Devil?" he asked hesitantly.  

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Average: 3.8 (12 votes)

Her Fetish Revealed

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"It's really silly, my fetish," I say, making significant effort to allow embarrassment into my voice. I drop my eyes from his as if ashamed, though I've had this conversation a dozen times before.

"Nonsense," he counters, smiling patronizingly. It's there to read in his face: already he is fantasizing that it must be something predictably male. His imagination takes hold of him and he surmises I must be dreaming of a threesome with him and another woman. Uninspired. The truth is far more perverse.

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Average: 3.6 (12 votes)

Darker Secret, A

The noises of the crypt were starting to get to her, all the hissing echoing around, driving her mad. She’d been walking down here for hours in her now dusty, bloodied and torn leather armour. She’d even gone through several torches. Reihana Solus wasn’t happy about this.

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Average: 3.7 (3 votes)

Resourceful Exorcist, The

The shrouded figure approached walked down the long, cracked sidewalk, stepping over the exposed old oak roots. St. Ignuitius's was just up ahead. the shrouded figure stopped under one of the suburban street lights, passed by a thick mist.

Shortly after, it was knocking at the door. Commotion could be heard from inside. After a short wait, the door creaked open.

"Are you the one we called?" asked an old nun. The shrouded figure pulled off the hood to reveal the short blonde hair of a girl wearing a preacher's collar.

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Average: 3.4 (5 votes)
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