Monthly Writing 1!

[DiscoBallClock]

So guys, it's January the 3rd, so we're gonna kick this off. For the first Monthly Writing, I will give you the start of the story and we'll continue it. Before I post said start of a story, here are some rules and hints and whatnot.

Rules:

• Every post must have 10-25/30ish sentences.(Unless it's important)
• No double posting.
• Your posts are subjected to being edited/deleted if they're too incoherent(I doubt this will happen)

Hints:

• Remember, you don't need to be good in order to participate; we're here to improve!
• If you're stuck, don't put in more and more characters, that will make a clusterfuck of a story.
• Instead, try to look at other posts and figure out how other people wrote their parts.
• Remember to be coherent. This means, watch the conjugation of verbs, if a story's serious don't make it funny out of the blue, don't post nonsense, etc.

And I think that's it. I'll add more if I need to. Anyway, without any further ado, here is the start of the story:

The alarm clock's strident ringing filled the room as the first sun rays came in through the window. Joe Cole rubbed his eyes sleepily whilst getting up. But then he realized that he had reset his alarm clock last Friday, and that it was actually 11AM. 'Shit.' he thought, and ran to the bathroom to prepare himself for the day.
He quickly brushed his teeth, and then proceeded to shave. While doing this, he cut himself. "Motherfucker!" he said, angry. There was no time to stall and whine about cuts, he had to keep moving. In fact, he even skipped showering. He put on his suit and ran out of the house.

It's a little shorter than it should be. But whatever it's the only exception.
Go go go Clock Crew!!

[SnakeClock]

It was an extraordinarily cold day out that day, in that uncomfortable time of year between when autumn is wrapped, but winter isn't quite in full swing. A harsh breeze blew through the air, chilling Joe to the bone, but he didn't have time to get his coat or hat. He caught the bus downtown just as it was pulling away, and promptly boarded.
Slumping down on one of the seats with a groan, he started to rub his forehead agonizingly. "I'm gonna catch hell for this!" he ruminated silently.
Looking around idly, he found the bus fairly empty, most people having already gone to work or school at this late hour. There was just an elderly woman, a teenager with punk red hair zoned out with his iPod, and some scruffy guys sitting here and there, staring at nothing in particular.
Joe winced as the bus pulled up to another stop, picking up someone else. Can't it just get going, he complained to himself. The person boarding was a young man, slightly younger than Joe, wearing a smart, smoky grey suit. He had short, jet-black hair, styled to perfection, and a chiseled face with a large nose. Joe recognized him immediately.
"Hey! Desmond!" Joe called out. The young man looked his way, and smiled at him.
"Joe! Imagine seein' you here," he replied, and sat down next to him.
"What are you doing on the bus at this hour?" Joe asked him, "I didn't figure you'd be late for work, too!"
"What, you mean at Halloway-Faulkner?" Desmond asked.
"Yeah... you worked there just as long as I have," Joe said, "I'm only on the bus this late 'cuz my alarm didn't go off. What about you?"
Desmond gasped with realization.
"Ohhhh, right right right," Desmond replied, "this might be hard to tell you, but... I wouldn't worry about H-F right now. Or anything, really."
Joe blinked with confusion.
"What do you mean?" he said. Desmond was interrupted by a ping sound, indicating that someone was getting off at Joe's stop.

[TruncheonClock]

The End

[Topcatyo]

Joe stood up and bade Desmond goodbye, but Desmond followed.
"Joe, with the economy being the way it is..." Joe strode through the parking lot, his pace quickened by what he was worried Desmond was going to say.  "...and with amateurs springing up all over the place vying to take our market..." Joe continued on through the barely occupied parking lot. "...the company has had to do a bit of..." Joe reached the door. "...It's had to do a bit of... uh... downsizing."
Joe was inside, practically rushing to the boss's office.  When he went in the secretary informed him the boss was busy with a project.  Joe rushed out and headed toward Set #1.  He went inside to find three men romantically involved with one woman on a kitchen table.
"Mr. Halloway!" Joe called out as he approached the camera crew.  A large, portly man was standing behind everybody, surveying the whole scene.  "Mr. Halloway, what's all this I hear about downsizing?  Where is everybody?"

[AbsintheClock]

And when he opened the door he fell down into the center of the universe. The vacuum of a massive black hole ripped him apart atom from atom. Just before it separated his brain he thought to himself "is this where i."

Albert hears the alarm ring while he's in the shower. "Babe... You wanna get that?" ENH ENH ENH ENH "babe seriously I'm washing my balls... It takes forever to get the suds off that, and we just shampooed the carpets. Babe?" Albert steps out of the bathroom, and then he is Joe. Joe looks behind him and sees the toothbrush sitting on the counter. ENH ENH ENH ENH "Would somebody shut that fucking thing off?" A woman comes into the room with a gun and shoots Joe.

Albert comes out of the closet. "I didn't want you to fucking kill him, I just wanted you to leave him." The woman shoots herself. Albert walks to the bathroom to wash the blood off himself. He looks down at the counter at the toothbrush and when he looks back up he is the woman. She picks the toothbrush up, and when it goes in her mouth she wakes up.

Edit: Fuck totally did it wrong. Eh well it's kinda cool so I'm leaving it around for when I might need the idea.

[TelephoneClock]

"Joe, it's not easy for me to do this" said Mr. Halloway, his voice muffled by his flapping jowls, "but there are plenty of fresh, young people out there looking to make a career here, and you just haven't been showing enough incentive lately to justify your sub-par work." Joe's thoughts stopped. Everything that was rushing through his head just a moment ago suddenly went blank. The noise from the crew behind him went silent. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Joe, Mr. Halloway continued "Joe, we're going to have to let you go." Suddenly, after a few moments of shock, it all hit Joe hard. What would he do for money now? All of his friends that he knows only from work, will he ever see them again? He wanted to go batshit crazy, tear everything apart, completely destroy his office, go on a rampage. "Those stage lights," he thought, "would make perfect blunt force weapons. fuck everybody here, fuck this place, fuck 'em all!" Trying to maintain his composure, he finally replied to Mr. Halloway. "....... I understand.... I suppose I'll go collect my things." You could hear the rage in his voice he was trying to hide as he walked past his former boss to his office.

[AnkhClock]

After packing up things, which amounted to an out-of-date laptop and a set of "Nun Bowling" his niece had gotten him last Christmas, he silently moped out of his office, wishing that everything around him were to burst into flames. He looked up at the sky, sighing. How was he going to pay the rent?

"I'm not working at McDonald's, no fucking way."

Joe collapsed on the bus stop bench, thinking of nothing in particular as he waited for the #43 to Gibson St. to take him home. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a billboard.

"Need work?" Joe read, "Stop by Marzec Center on Ninth Avenue and learn how you can make big bucks fast."

Joe Frowned. It was in the opposite direction of his house, but on the other hand he needed work quick. So long as it wasn't some scam he'd be alright, and even if it was he'd be screwed either way. Joe despondently got up from the bench as walked a few blocks over to where the #37 would take him to Ninth Ave.

[DiscoBallClock]

After a while, Joe arrived at the Marzec Center. He took a good look at the building. It wasn't really that tall, but it was rather big. The walls were painted white, and there was a large dome on top of the building, along with two tall chimneys. A fine trace of smoke came out of them.
"This is unusual..." Joe thought, as he walked closer to the large contraption. On closer inspection, there were several windows on the walls, but the glass was tinted, leaving nothing to be seen from the outside.

Joe arrived at the front door. He waited for a while, and then pressed the button that rung the bell.

[SnakeClock]

The tall doors loomed ominously over him, and were made from opaque frosted glass. As the buzz of the bell sounded out, one of the doors opened slightly in response. Craning his neck upwards, Joe stared at the door for a moment, puzzled and silent. Eventually, he walked inside, the door closing behind him with a loud click as the lock closed again.

The inside of the building was pitch dark, the wan light through the frosted glass doors providing the only light. A quiet noise permeated all around him, like a frail wind or a distant machine grinding away.

"Hello?" he called out. "I rang the buzzer, I'm interested in a job."

"Afternoon," a voice called out lazily from nearby. It was a woman's voice, flat, yet somehow melodious.

Glimpsing quickly over to where he heard it, he saw a desk that didn't seem to be there before, lit only by an old-fashioned desk lamp. In the spot of yellow light, a woman was filing her nails. Her face was only just lit up, her eyes half-closed as she stared at the emery board. She had a thin, elegant nose, long, stunning eyelashes, and thin, bright red lips, set in an indifferent frown. She looked like she dropped right out of the '30s or '40s. Joe went up slowly to her.

"Hi," he said, "I'm, uh, interested in a job? I saw your billboard, where do I-"

The woman slowly looked up at him, her piercing blue eyes opening to barely a slit.

"Y'really wanna work with us?" she said, a faint note of disbelief in her voice.

"...Yeah?" Joe said, after a pause. The woman sighed to herself.

"Alright," she said, "take the elevator up to floor 8, and go to the door at the end of the hall. Mr. Marzec will speak to you there."

[Topcatyo]

To make this story more complex I'm adding a secondary plotline that will intertwine with Joe's at some point, probably around the climax.

Sarah Warthington was not what one would call "pleasant".  "Attractive", "skinny", and "likely to live another year or so" would also not fit into a sentence describing her.  She had no friends and she had spent her entire life isolating herself from everybody.  She did not have an e-mail account, she did not have a phone of any kind, and her house didn't have a door so much as it had a thirteen deadbolt locks with a plank of wood attached to them.
Aside from being alone, Sarah had one other thing she loved in her life: Peeping into other people's lives.  She had a little telescope in front of the only window in her very humble abode, and through that telescope she had access to the lives of all those around her.  She spent the better portion of her day peeking through the little lens of the telescope, writing down the events for what happened that day.  This was the extent of her interaction with other people.
What a hollow shell it was.

____

Okay, so yeah, I introduced another character.  We now have multiple plotlines weaving around each other.
I do hope this is okay.  It would be good practice, in my opinion.  If not, I can delete this post and if you get lazy you can use that to start the next Monthly Writing.

[Silly Putty Clock]

Suddenly...

There was an explosion! Oh, the humanity! Joe was thrown to the floor and briefly blinded in the flash of light. He squinted from between his fingers and saw lady parts smeared all over the wall behind the tiny pile of desk splinters. Things were gradually coming into focus, and he saw a big, meaty hand reaching down towards him. Terrified and confused, Joe grabbed it and let the stranger pull him up.

The man was middle-aged and balding, but he was in good enough shape despite it. He wore a horrible plaid shirt that exposed his woolly chest and brown tweed trousers that were held up by threadbare strips of what could only be assumed to be suspenders. An obnoxious cigar was stuck in his grinning mouth, and in his right hand he held a gigantic rocket launcher. "So, youse really wants ta work with me?" The sasquatch spat with glee.

"Wh-wh-who..." Joe could only stutter. He was growing faint and he thought he felt something warm and wet dripping down his leg.

"Name's Marzec, bub."

"Why... why'd you..."

"Blows up my secretary? Heh. That ain't my secretary. Nots anymores. That's a spy. Dead spy now. I'se been meanin's to do that for years. So, youse want da job or not?"

I don't know about you, dear reader, but I don't blame Joe for collapsing at that particular moment.

[AnkhClock]

Joe felt himself being shaken awake. He warily opened his eyes to the sight of Marzec standing over him.

"Sorry about that bub," said Marzec gruffly, "bit of shrapnel got lodged in your leg from when I blew up my old secretary. One of them tranquilizer dart pen things like in them James Bond movies. She had one, 'cause she was a spy."

Joe got up groggily. The strange man helped him to his feet, and they looked at each other silently for a few seconds.

"Ya look like ya got something to ask me," said Marzec, "So ask."

Joe had about a million, but he decided it would be safest to go with the most mundane and least important.

"So you're names Marzec?" asked Joe cautiously asked. "No offense, but you don't look Polish."

"I'm not," Marzec offered at once. "My real name's James Fredrickson, but that's a damn shitty name. I changed it to Wolfgang Ulyanov Jin-Wei Fortaleza Shinsato Marzec years ago. Don't worry, you can call me Mr. M. But enough about me. You want the job or not?"

"Yes, of course," replied Joe meekly.

What else could he say? He didn't want to die.

[Silly Putty Clock]

What else could he say? He didn't want to die.

Ohoho, does he have a surprise in store.

I'm sorry, carry on.

[Topcatyo]

"So," Marzec looked at him curiously, "what brings you here in the first place?  We didn't get many applications, what with this practically being a suicide mission and all that..."  Joe figured now that whole "not wanting to die" thing was now a bit obsolete.

"I... I got fired from my job in porn..." replied Joe, suddenly realizing what a difference there was between infiltration and penetration... or not.

"Porn you say?  Well, looks like you can be the James Bond type of spy.  Maybe Mata Hari... but then you'd have a vagina- Anyway, get a good night's rest in the infirmary, heal that leg up a bit, we'll start your training tomorrow."  With that, Marzec slinked off into the shadows again, followed shortly by a thud.  "I just walked into a wall a bit, there.  Normally we had lights in this room until they all shattered when I blew up the secretary.  'Cause she was a spy.  Good night!"

[DiscoBallClock]

Joe was taken to the infirmary(not by the secretary; she was a spy), where he laid down on a vacant bed.(The others had people in them; for some reason they all had their blankets over their heads though.) He looked at the white, plain ceiling. 'I have a feeling I don't know what I got myself into' he thought, as he tried to get himself comfortable. He fell asleep with thoughts of middle-aged bald men, spies, and explosions on his mind.

The next day, Marzec took the liberty of waking Joe up at 6AM.
"Huhwha...?" mumbled Joe in a daze.
"Git up newbie, you have a lot to learn!" Marzec screamed.

Joe got ready quickly. To think a day ago he was doing this at home! Then, Marzec took Joe to a big, open yard.
"A'ight, here's the deal." he started. "what we do here, is hunt."

[Topcatyo]

Joe looked at Marzec for a second.  "What exactly am I hunting?  Rabbits?  Deer?"  Joe felt he already knew the answer when Marzec bellowed out an enormous laugh.

"No of course not, you're the one being hunted.  We're using live ammunition so you'll want to make yourself scarce."  Joe stared at Marzec for a second.  "Go on, now, I'll give ya a head start."

[SnakeClock]

Joe gave him a cock-eyed look. Finally, running under the assumption that it couldn't get any worse, he asked "Are you fucking joking?"

Mr. Marzec laughed loudly.

"Yeah, I am," he admitted, "you passed the first test. You're a sharp one, rookie."

Joe blinked in disbelief. "Thanks?" he said, puzzled.

"No thanks needed," Mr. Marzec complimented.

"Okay, good, because I was wondering what on Earth we would be hunting in an office building that seems to have a pair of smokestacks and tinted windows in it," Joe wondered, "Is this a factory or a power plant or something?"

Mr. Marzec smiled at him.

"So you're curious about the machines, eh?" he asked.

"I guess?" Joe replied. Mr. Marzec nodded and gave him a revolver out of his holster.

"Well, come with me," he said, "I'll show you to your own machine."

[Silly Putty Clock]

"Go on, now, I'll give ya a head start."

Joe gave him a cock-eyed look.

hurr hurr hurr

ANYWAY:

They walked across the yard together. As they walked, Joe noticed that Mr. Marzec seemed to be concentrating on something and muttering under his breath. "He must be counting his steps for some reason," thought Joe. He was wrong. Soon, they were about 2.5 metres from the exact centre of the yard. I know, I measured it myself. Abruptly, Marzec stopped in his tracks and turned around with a jerk. He held his arms out before him and drew a sideways eight in the air in a strangely mystic motion. Next, he pulled two stake-like flares out of his pockets and held them at the ready. "Oh, I forgot to ask. Ever shoot a gun?" he asked.

"Um, no," said Joe. "Will that be a problem?"

Marzec shrugged. "Depends. Sometimes they gets a little lively."

"They?"

With a decidedly flamboyant flourish, Marzec lit the flares and planted them in the ground beside one another. There was a rumble as gutters of liquid light burst forth from the tips of the flares. "Stand back now, hear?" shouted Marzec, as the flares began to emit a screeching noise. Joe did so with enthusiasm, and as he looked back at the flares, he could see that the blindingly bright fluid was moving upward, bubbling and coiling to form a massive upright shape in the air. Towards the base of the shape, the liquid ran off to reveal a broad pedestal made of a dull metallic material. "Get ready," said Marzec, "'ere she comes."

"What do you mean?" asked Joe.

"Get yer gun out! Fuck's sake!"

[K3LTR0N]

ok SO

They both looked down at the metallic pedestal. And all of a sudden it morphed into a giant rabid elephant. Joe started to scream, he was scared poopless.

"WHAT IS THAT!!?" cried Joe.

"That's the thing we must transport back to Africa, her name is Judy" said Marzec.
Marzec took out is magic lasso and threw it around the elephant's neck. Once the magical lasso was around Judy, she behaved perfectly.
"Now we must walk down to the boats and put Judy on the SS AFRICA, once there we will receive a new mission."

"Ok..." said Joe as they started their journey down to the boats.

[Topcatyo]

Joe searched his pockets hurriedly or any sort of firearm.  "You didn't give me a gun!" shouted Joe exasperatedly.

"Don't be daft, my boy, look in your secret agent pocket," shouted Marzec in a toned that implied "You should know better."  Joe opened up his suit coat and checked inside the lapel and felt his hand touch an object that was hard and smooth that he didn't touch at his previous job.

Joe pulled a Desert Eagle out of his pocket and pointed it in a random direction.