Sometimes Morgan and I can’t get in a writing mood for the life of us. Even if the end of global famine, war, and child labour depended on it. We’ve recently found that mad libs can loosen up our brain rolls and get those creative juices flowing. This one made us laugh especially hard and we figured we’d share it with you and maybe it’ll give you some inspiration as well!
We came up with words for each other, timed 30 minutes and then just let ‘er rip. Enjoy!
- a word you use too much
- the name of a city you’d like to visit
- an unusual color
- a hobby
- a physical quality a person might wish for
- an animal
- a famous author
- a verb ending in -ing
- a number
- an adverb
Use all of these in a story or scene that also includes the phrase “What is that?”
Morgan (words by Prachi)
- a word you use too much: fire
- the name of a city you’d like to visit: Chernobyl
- an unusual color: greige
- a hobby: crocheting
- a physical quality a person might wish for: big ass
- an animal: meerkat
- a famous author: George Orwell
- a verb ending in -ing: boogieing
- a number: 27.5
- an adverb: viciously
“Fire!” she shouted “Fire in the hole!”
Just before taking the fattest dump this dimension has ever seen. Or rather smelled. That Manhattan bathroom was about to smell like 27.5 metric tons of rotten sardines and boy sweat for the next 3 weeks.
Ray was 21 going on 22 within a few weeks. She had just gotten an internship at a shipping company in lower Manhattan’s East Side. As most young people in America nowadays, she was determined, impressionable and in more debt than assault accusations over Harvey Weinstein’s head.
She had just managed to find a dingy 20th floor apartment with one too many locks on the door and no elevator.
This place was falling apart at a rapid rate, the greige walls stained with what could only be described as meerkat piss were peeling and reeked of old beans. But at $1100 a month with just 9 roommates, this treeknot was an unlikely steal!
Most of the roommates were fine and not in the house much, but one was different. Raqueeleh (pronounced Raquel) was in his mid 50’s, collected taxidermy wolf heads and was viciously balding. He would stay up at night crocheting colorful jackets for fire hydrants to “keep sweet and toasty during these harsh times”. As if winter was some sort of bicentennial event that no one knew how to deal with.
Ray had stayed up with him one night and after a few drinks came to learn that Raqueeleh had lived through the Chernobyl accident and suffered acute radiation poisoning. She wasn’t surprised at all after seeing some of his massively bizarre antics. Of course he was part of Chernobyl. Duh. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he had even contributed to the accident itself rather than just being an innocent victim. Someone with that many wolf heads and gum wrapper wallpaper must have some sort of agenda. But he kept to himself and paid his rent so who was she to judge?
Monday morning was the second week of Ray’s internship and she clocked in for the 12 hour shift ahead. This wasn’t her ideal job but it was a stepping stone to her dream of being a world famous Barge Builder. “Can I just skip shipping containers and hop on over to the Barge Center?” she prayed
She stared longingly at the Barge Center. Each barge was unique, they all had the same basic structure but each was special. The famous quadrilateral architecture, the rotund water heaters that lay peacefully above the captains quarters, even the sharp rutters. She admired it all and being able to see the Barge Center from her station was all that was keeping her going.
A few weeks later Ray saw a tiny black box at her desk. “What is that?” she thought. Opening the box she found shreds of yarn and a tiny piece of musty smelling paper crumpled up inside.
“Meet me at Barge #7. Lunch. Bring olive oil.”
She was pretty creeped out but the thought of being able to be next to Barge #7 had her boogieing on over faster than you can say “omelet”.
The minute she got there she saw two dino slippers sticking out from behind the barge.
“I’ve seen those before” she thought. She slowly peered behind the barge, being careful not to scratch the fresh coat of paint.
“Raqueelaeeh?” she gasped. “What are you doing here?” “Hush now m’lady. I know what you want.” Rqquelelh whispered. “What are you talking about? Why did I bring oil?”
“Oh don’t mind that, that’s just my lunch. Kroger has a nationwide ban on me from buying olive oil because I would guzzle it in store and spill it everywhere. Apperently it caused people mental distress. It makes my skin glowy and I like the texture.”
Ray was confused especially considering his skin was the exact opposite of glowy, more like the spitting image of a sun-bured gravel road in Utah. Whatever. He said he knows what I want?”
“What do you mean you know what I want?”
“Oh little lady peach, I know. I know all about the Barges. And I want to help you. With one favor in return sweet pumpkin.”
Prachi (words by Morgan)
- a word you use too much: bop
- the name of a city you’d like to visit: San Paolo
- an unusual color: lemon curry
- a hobby: plate spinning
- a physical quality a person might wish for: two extra fingers
- an animal: horned lizard
- a famous author: E.L. James
- a verb ending in -ing: plowing
- a number: 55
- an adverb: sloppily
By day, E.L. James spends her time plowing away at her land to harvest her potatoes. One day she pulls out a potato that looks… different. That night, she makes a stew with it and eats a hearty 55 servings. The next day she wakes up and as she’s warming up for her plate spinning competition in San Paolo, she notices something sticking out of her right wrist. E.L. walks over to her neighbor’s house: the all-wise, all-knowing horned lizard King of Lizardia and asks him “What is it?” He looks at her with admiration and bows down at her feet hailing her as the new Queen of Lizardia. He tells her “I’ve been searching for you high and low. I should’ve known you were “the one” when I saw you on TV as the San Paolo 2037 World Star Plate Spinning Champion”
He grabs her special, queenly, regal hands with two extra fingers and teleports them to Lizardia. As soon as they arrive, a carpet akin to lemon-curry rolls up and Lizardia’s Head Page of All Pages gloop-glops over to them. The bugles start playing the biggest rocker jam of the century – the Horned Lizard King’s favourite songs from last year’s Metro Station rendition concerto. Queen E.L and King Horned Lizard sloppily make their way up the stairs and through the Lemon Curry Castle designed by the famous architect of Lizardia from the Lebensbaum Demeter Company.
When they enter their kingly suite, Queen E.L notices a heavenly bed and immediately jumps into it. She’s immediately enveloped by a cloud of lemon-curry spice that quickly starts raining lemon-curry on her. The Horned Lizard King starts guffawing away at her misery but as the lemon-curry rain stops, Queen E.L notices her two extra fingers have dissolved and she has her boring, ghastly old normal human hands. Not worthy of the Kingdom of Lizardia. The Horned Lizard king quickly notices and casts her out to the land of failed Lizardia Queens. There, she suffers with a non-stop Metro Station rendition concerto for the rest of time.
Do you have any tips and tricks for getting out of writers block? Any fun mad libs to share? Leave us a comment or email at firstname.lastname@example.org !
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