First Ever Non-Linear Cooperative Story
 

This works thusly... Each turn you copy the contents of the post above you, and then insert a new sentence wherever you want. This might be in the beginning, in the end, or between any two sentences. You are not alowed, however, to modify other sentences. Emphasise your addition with bold.

example
First user posts:
So the next one posts:
And the next one starts a "sub-story" in the middle:

But the one to follow isn't interested in the sub-story, so he continues with the world-domination plotline:
The next one has plenty of options. He can develop both plots, by inserting new sentences in the right place; he can start a new sub-story; or he can add something new to the end - e.g. what happens after the narrator takes over the world. If you're incredibly talented, you may even find something to put in the begining without ruining the story.



Here are the three most important rules:
1) NEVER edit another person's sentence, UNLESS you're 100% sure he's made a spelling mistake - in which case you're allowed to correct it. If you're not sure what the poster actually meant, DON'T touch it. It is vital to understand that any change you make will be visible in all future posts, because of the "copy&paste" nature of this thread.
2) Don't post twice in a row. Also, don't post too much. Let others influence the story. Patience is key.
3) Be creative. Make this fun.


The next post (mine) starts the story. Enjoy.


p.s. I realize that posts will become very long very soon. So make sure you emphasise your additions so that others will take notice. If this goes out of hand, we'll think of a chapters system. But let's not rush things at the moment.

*bump* Darn it, good ideas never take off in this world. Damn you! Damn you all! :p

(All right. Let's see if I can fix this and keep it going . .)



But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

(not sure this will work. good idea though)

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end.But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

I love the way this is progressing.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-sytle magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-sytle magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-sytle magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-sytle magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.
Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. I casually look over my right shoulder and notice that I still have a some beers on ice in the back cooler. Not everything is bad. Let me reach for one as I tell my tale.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. But if I had only known how things would eventually work out for me I never would have agreed take part in her little scheme. Oh how I regret it now. I casually look over my right shoulder and notice that I still have a some beers on ice in the back cooler. Not everything is bad. Let me reach for one as I tell my tale.



[

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her. In retrospect, I shouldn't have expressed my extreme desire for her in the first 15 minutes of conversation. I was never one to have an patience or understanding of the social norm.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. But if I had only known how things would eventually work out for me I never would have agreed take part in her little scheme. Oh how I regret it now. I casually look over my right shoulder and notice that I still have a some beers on ice in the back cooler. Not everything is bad. Let me reach for one as I tell my tale.

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her. In retrospect, I shouldn't have expressed my extreme desire for her in the first 15 minutes of conversation. I was never one to have any patience or understanding of the social norm.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. But if I had only known how things would eventually work out for me I never would have agreed take part in her little scheme. Oh how I regret it now. I casually look over my right shoulder and notice that I still have a some beers on ice in the back cooler. Not everything is bad. Let me reach for one as I tell my tale.

<b>Actually, I already started telling you my tale, but let me go on. Anna was a gallant lady, from the first moment I set eyes on her, and she set that one eye on me and sprayed me with that forsaken pepper spray.</b>

(was that too much? sorry. feel free to chop it up and take parts out)

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her. In retrospect, I shouldn't have expressed my extreme desire for her in the first 15 minutes of conversation. I was never one to have any patience or understanding of the social norm.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. But if I had only known how things would eventually work out for me I never would have agreed take part in her little scheme. Oh how I regret it now. Looking down the slope, I see my car. Most of the flames are out, and it settled to a stopping point. With a sigh, I crawl down the muddy hill and climb into the twisted memory of my vehicle. I casually look over my right shoulder and notice that I still have a some beers on ice in the back cooler. Not everything is bad. Let me reach for one as I tell my tale.

Actually, I already started telling you my tale, but let me go on. Anna was a gallant lady, from the first moment I set eyes on her, and she set that one eye on me and sprayed me with that forsaken pepper spray.

-bump-

God Dammit. This is awesome. Don't let it die

As I crawled from the burning wreckage, blood flowing down my face in small rivers, I began to piece together the events that had led me to this dismal state. Everything happened exactly as I was warned it would - that in the end, love would become the cold, unflinching agent of death and destruction. But then, I guess that's to be expected when you gamble on gerbil races against Three-Fingered Louie and No-Nose Frankie.

Listening to my twin-engine Cessna sliding down the muddy riverbank to the destruction that awaits us all, I cast my mind to better things. I'll never forget the day I first met Anna. It was a quiet and sunny day; a fine day for meeting a gal like her. She was sitting on a wooden bench, reading some self-help book, the kind they advertise in the last pages of life-style magazines. As I came closer to her, I was shocked to discover that she had a simple black eyepatch over her left eye, putting off a shallow air of hostility. I don't think she noticed me at first because, I can, at times, convey a certain air of invisibility. The park was deserted at the time, save for an elderly couple strolling by, and as they passed, I wondered if we would be able to stay so close until the end. But that's me - always jumping the gun; after all I had just met her. In retrospect, I shouldn't have expressed my extreme desire for her in the first 15 minutes of conversation. I was never one to have any patience or understanding of the social norm.

Flinching as I remember the hiss of her pepper spray, I am startled from my revelry, awash in the steam from the burning husk of the Cessna dousing itself in the murky, frigid waters. Jumping the gun. Yes. Just like I'd done a mile and a half above this god-forsaken drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. But if I had only known how things would eventually work out for me I never would have agreed take part in her little scheme. Oh how I regret it now. Looking down the slope, I see my car. Most of the flames are out, and it settled to a stopping point. With a sigh, I crawl down the muddy hill and climb into the twisted memory of my vehicle. I casually look over my right shoulder and notice that I still have a some beers on ice in the back cooler. Not everything is bad. Let me reach for one as I tell my tale.

Actually, I already started telling you my tale, but let me go on. Anna was a gallant lady, from the first moment I set eyes on her, and she set that one eye on me and sprayed me with that forsaken pepper spray. As I fell to my knees, my vision a blur of pain, she came running to my side, her mouth open in a silent scream.