The magic bullet slammed into the back of Lenny Flooper’s right leg. It exploded through the other side with a spray of blood and fragmented kneecap, effectively ending his mad dash escape.
Lenny stumbled. His arms, hampered by age and untreated bursitis, were slow to react, and he did a face plant into the base of a cycadeoid tree, a common specimen of the Early Cretaceous Period.
The cycadeoid was at least sixty feet tall, and it stood at the edge of a steep embankment along with other, equally authentic-looking prehistoric flora. The tops of these cycadeoids fanned out into wide fern-like vinyl fronds that tangled high above the jungle floor. During the day, the canopy they formed blocked all but the most dramatic shafts of sunlight, a spectacular effect as viewed from the seat of a speeding coaster train. Tonight though, the canopy blotted out the inky sky. And the fireworks.
When he finally regained consciousness, it was the crackle of fireworks bursting overhead that Lenny initially mistook for the sound of his skull crumbling.
Using tree branches for support, Lenny pulled himself up, telling his brain to ignore the pain. A stray firework whizzed past his ear leaving a colorful trail of sparks and singed skin on his face.
He needed to get out of there, but with his shattered knee, all he could do was walk in circles. His foot landed in something soft and ripe. The smell told him some kind of animal had passed by recently. A sudden roar told him very recently. A fucking dinosaur!
Summoning all his strength, Lenny hobbled away from the sound of the creature. He stumbled into brush and found himself rolling down an embankment. He came to rest on cold, hard concrete.
"Do you need help, sir?"
Lenny tried to focus on the voice; dust and gravel in his eyes had blinded him. "Where am I?"
"Crazy Al's Antediluvian Autopark, sir. What can we do for you?"
Lenny groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position. "I just need a way to get home."
"Well sir, you've come to the right place. This must be your lucky day!"
Opening: blogless_troll.....Continuation: ril
Lenny stumbled. His arms, hampered by age and untreated bursitis, were slow to react, and he did a face plant into the base of a cycadeoid tree, a common specimen of the Early Cretaceous Period.
The cycadeoid was at least sixty feet tall, and it stood at the edge of a steep embankment along with other, equally authentic-looking prehistoric flora. The tops of these cycadeoids fanned out into wide fern-like vinyl fronds that tangled high above the jungle floor. During the day, the canopy they formed blocked all but the most dramatic shafts of sunlight, a spectacular effect as viewed from the seat of a speeding coaster train. Tonight though, the canopy blotted out the inky sky. And the fireworks.
When he finally regained consciousness, it was the crackle of fireworks bursting overhead that Lenny initially mistook for the sound of his skull crumbling.
Using tree branches for support, Lenny pulled himself up, telling his brain to ignore the pain. A stray firework whizzed past his ear leaving a colorful trail of sparks and singed skin on his face.
He needed to get out of there, but with his shattered knee, all he could do was walk in circles. His foot landed in something soft and ripe. The smell told him some kind of animal had passed by recently. A sudden roar told him very recently. A fucking dinosaur!
Summoning all his strength, Lenny hobbled away from the sound of the creature. He stumbled into brush and found himself rolling down an embankment. He came to rest on cold, hard concrete.
"Do you need help, sir?"
Lenny tried to focus on the voice; dust and gravel in his eyes had blinded him. "Where am I?"
"Crazy Al's Antediluvian Autopark, sir. What can we do for you?"
Lenny groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position. "I just need a way to get home."
"Well sir, you've come to the right place. This must be your lucky day!"
Opening: blogless_troll.....Continuation: ril
12 comments:
Unchosen Continuations:
"Isn't this a little over the top for a computerized global warming game?" Jim said.
"You said sex it up a little. I added cute permian dinosaurs with glocks, ruggers and one or two Smith and Wessons."
"No! We want to teach kids about Permo-Carboniferous Coal Deposits in the Transvaal, not kneecap blasting and head crunching!"
--Dave F.
“Ya little bastard!” Lenny shrieked. “You done blown my leg off!”
The nursing-home worker scoffed, starting to holster her Magic Pistol and then thinking otherwise. She lifted the gun, took a swig of crispy-cycadeoid whisky, and shot Lenny in his other leg.
“Ya little bastard!” Lenny howled. “You done blown my-”
“Oh, shut up, Flooper.” the nursing home worker hissed. “This is the LAST time you try and escape our dungeon- I mean nursing home, of course.”
“But I wanted to see the fireworks!” Lenny whined. “So many pretty fireworks…”
“Too late for that!” the nursing home worker crowed. “The magic bullet has a werewolf snotlard in it… before long you will TRANSFORM INTO A CYCADEOID!”
Lenny cursed. So much for his dreams of living past the Early Cretaceous Period.
“Can I at least ride the coaster train?”
- JustABand
The action is interesting. I'm not sure we want to interrupt it with so much description, however.
The bullet having passed through Lenny's leg and kneecap in paragraph 1, I don't expect him to stumble in p.2. I would remove the stumble and put the face plant sentence at the end of p.1. Then you might drop down to p.3. With Lenny conscious, you can now describe the setting from his viewpoint, rather than that of an all-seeing all-knowing narrator.
The magic bullet slammed into the back of Lenny Flooper’s right leg. It exploded through the other side with a spray of blood and fragmented kneecap, effectively ending his mad dash escape.
I'm not sure an orthopedic surgeon could repair that knee. A bullet like that might result in bone replacements or amputation above the injury.
Skull crumbling? Does our hero die on the first page?
I like the vinyl cycadeoids.
You should probably move this:
a common specimen of the Early Cretaceous Period.
The cycadeoid was at least sixty feet tall, and it stood at the edge of a steep embankment along with other, equally authentic-looking prehistoric flora. The tops of these cycadeoids fanned out into wide fern-like vinyl fronds that tangled high above the jungle floor. During the day, the canopy they formed blocked all but the most dramatic shafts of sunlight, a spectacular effect as viewed from the seat of a speeding coaster train. Tonight though, the canopy blotted out the inky sky. And the fireworks.
back further, if you use it at all. It's really jarring as an info dump.
I liked how this started but "he did a face plant" tripped me up a few times before it made sense -- though that's probably due to the fact that it's 6:35 in the morning and I'm still awake.
Anywho, the chunk about the cycadeoids could probably be shortened because it stifles your action. Why not let that detail (which is nice by the way -- especially the visual there) occur after paragraph 3.
Author, you abandon the magic bullet (a fantasy opening if I ever heard one)for a botany lesson in paragraph 2. I'd stick with the crisis and build some momentum before you give us that much specific info on the scenery. Lenny doesn't have time to think about that stuff: someone just shot him!
You would probably improve the tension a lot if you just said he slammed into "another damned prehistoric/Pre-whatever-era tree"
"untreated bursitis" implies a diagnosis, unless this is omniscient narration.
Hi blogless,
I really like your first line, and I really like the 'mad dash escape' phrase.
I agree with others that the info on the cycadeoid (although kudos to you, both for knowing what it freakin' is, and for being able to spell it) ,might be better off coming a little later.
Maybe just a little about the size and the canopy effect, and then move onto the the "tonight though" etc. part, to keep the scene flowing along. It would be a shame, I think, to fritter away the combination of dry humor and escape-gone-awry you've got going on.
love the continuation.
Thanks for all the comments. I kinda figured the omniscient info dump wasn't gonna fly, and it's been changed.
Great continuations! Crazy Al's Antediluvian Autopark cracked me up. And Dave, as Dave Barry would say, Permo-Carboniferous Coal Deposits would be a great name for a rock band.
I'd read on, despite not knowing what the hell kind of flora that was! :-) And ril's continuation is fantastic!
I too, um, stumbled over the part about your MC stumbling. How could he even get up if his knee is that shattered? There were times when my hubby could barely walk with just some gunk in his knee (before his knee surgery), so I agree with EE to put the face plant part in instead.
Face plant, magic bullet...damn, this sounds like a lot of fun and action!
"Crazy Al's Antediluvian Autopark" was EE's contribution.
Just so's you know...
-ril
blogless: I can remember buying a folder for class that had a dinosaur rock band on the front. The name on the drum was "Future Coal."
I thought that was a cool band name.
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