Serially Collaborative Storywriting: It’s like Ouija without the planchette! What you do is get a group of at least two people and sit around writing stories. The players take turns contributing single words to the story. That’s right, one word each. So if there are three people playing, each player pens every third word. Makes sense? Not really, and neither do the stories.
Here are some that my pals and I wrote. The bylines list the authors in order. Enjoy:
***
The Bank
by Joseph Calzaretta and Hani Sallum
Once I went to the bank and took out a wad of cash. Then I put the cash back into the pouch of my kangaroo. He was very tall. We always travel to the different banks in pairs and use different names for taking out funds. Sometimes I prefer not to wear my underpants when going to the bank. Nobody can ever tell that I’m naked under my trousers. If someone were to check via fiber optic device, they would discover my bizarre secret. Fortunately, kangaroos can protect me against such violations of my privacy.
***
My Ears
by Hani Sallum and Joseph Calzaretta
The funny stewardess on my flight to my bar mitzvah said, “You don’t have any ears.” I replied that ears aren’t necessary where I come from, namely Budapest. She looked confused and backed away, stumbling over passengers’ feet. Little did she know that my ears were really stowed securely in the cargo hold. The other passengers didn’t seem to mind my lack of auditory organs, but they mostly never looked anyway. Laughing to myself, I continued devouring my own hand.
***
Delousing Buttons
By Joseph Calzaretta and Hani Sallum
My dog, Buttons, always knows when it’s time for her weekly delousing. She waits patiently for me to emerge from the laboratory, wagging my finger at the calendar. Every week I grab some nitric acid and some gauze, and prepare the gurney and the cauldron. Leading Buttons into the laboratory, I put the tongs into the sterilization chamber, and turn on some romantic music. (It calms both of us down.) Once we achieve mental synchronicity, I activate the delousing system.
Thousands of amps shoot through the reactor’s magnetic core and catalyze the anti-louse fuel burning carburetors. Buttons nervously watches while I flip the main power relay switch. Millions of watts of “anti-louse power” fire mercilessly out of the enormous cannon, directly at my poor, terrified dog’s head. Howling with abject agony, Buttons is slowly transformed into a cloud of dissociated particles. I separate the louse particles from Buttons’ vaporized atoms with tweezers. This takes several days to complete.
Finally I throw the system-reversal lever, returning the particles to their former configuration, namely, Buttons! She barks as I unstrap her from the scorched gurney and place my tongs into my pocket. Lastly, I pour the nitric acid down the sink, which serves little purpose. Unlocking the door to the laboratory with my keyless remote causes Buttons to bark and dash desperately out to freedom. At last, the lice are gone and Buttons can play, until she gets tangled in those pesky vermin-laden vines again.
I hope that you’ve learned a lesson about caring for your pets today. Thank you for your attention.
***
Flakey the Tiger
by Jennifer Mills, Joseph Calzaretta and Hani Sallum
A long time ago, there lived a friendly tiger named Flakey. He was called Flakey the Tiger because when he was a cub he had severe eczema. He would shed great amounts of dander whenever the weather became balmy. His littermates were thrilled by his regenerating skin, so he would shed extra quantities of skin just to please them.
Nowadays though, Flakey’s siblings, cryogenically preserved, await the day when technology will allow them to experience Flakey’s condition virtually. Until that day, they must settle for video reenactment, because Flakey died due to catastrophic and explosive exfoliation.
***
The Fountain
by Hani Sallum, Jennifer Mills and Joseph Calzaretta
Every thirty-eight years I must journey to Florida in my attempt to reverse the effects of time on my person. Hidden away behind Disney World lies the Fountain of Anti-Oldness. My father discovered the Fountain in 1608, mistaking it for a urinal. He tried to convince Queen Elizabeth that she could become immortal merely by dancing naked around the Fountain. She, surprisingly, didn’t take his bizarre advice. Instead, she had him executed. Poor dad.
Anyway, I was privy to the secret so I was deemed the Curator For Life, which involves protecting the Fountain from erosion. Now I wish that my father hadn’t told me about it, because Florida is a festering swamp and full of alligators.
***
The Adventures of Janet
by Joseph Calzaretta, Hani Sallum and Jennifer Mills
The first thing you notice about Janet is probably her prehensile nostrils. But she is also a wonderful stenographer. She uses her skills to augment her abnormally dexterous nose. One day she was brachiating to work when, suddenly, a loud noise startled her, causing her to lose her grip on the telephone pole. “Watch out, you gorgeous monstrosity,” yelled the proprietor of the newsstand that she plummeted into. “Oh! I’m dreadfully sorry,” said Janet, “I’ll pay for the incurred damage, but only because I love newspapers.”
“Perhaps you would agree to settle by accompanying me to the movies instead,” said the moony clerk.
“Well, actually, I want to marry you. Could we discuss terms over dinner?” The overjoyed newsman lovingly embraced Janet and flew off using his prehensile ears.
They circled the globe and lived uniquely ever after.