The Collective Story
If you’ve ever popped down to the Riverside on the Thursday for our weekly Opus Acoustics sessions, you ll have noticed we play a few word games. One such game is the Collective Story. Write a line of the story and pass it to the person next to you. Continue to do so until we have a story which will be read out at the end. There are no other rules. It’s a bit of fun, but I’ll forgive you in advance if your not wetting yourselves in excitement.
Anywho, for those of you who are wondering whether this turns into vulgar drivle or profound and thought provoking tales, here’s a copy of last week’s story……
One day I met an alien called Bob.
He greeted me and asked my opinion of Sheffield.
I told him I couldn’t deal with the rain
We then strolled for an hour before i realised:
That he had magically impregnated me with his alien probe – What was i to do?
What would this alien lovechild look like, I wondered? With my looks it would go far but about it’s Dad’s big…..
The father left me here alone with this alien child as disappeared on his space ship. To a galaxy far, far away.
never to be seen again! until….
Well. never of course.
The universe is a big place….
(note: hand writing too shocking to read the next few lines)
…it rained and rained and rained….
Alas! The child was born! It’s skin Fusictia in colour. A beautiful creature with eyes resembling tiny planets. As i gazed into its eyes, i heard a voice say
“you ight love?”
I gasped chucking the baby into the midwifes arms!
Not only could this new born talk but it was cockney!
And then the child reached out and bit my hand – I gasped as I swa my hand turn to a shade of blue. I was becoming an alien
I decided I needed to stop this transformation and the only way to do this was…..
to wait for the rain to stop, but that looked unlikely.
So alien I became as the waters and floods rose around me.
I thought about how strange and wonderful this transformation was and I decided to….
buy everyone a free drink in the Riverside.
I was instantly accepted into the community.
Perhaps i live on your street!
The stranger with the peculiar looks, who lives down the road
Possibly you may have seen my wandering from time to time? Its me, that bloke by the canal with fluffy pink slippers and a chicken mask,
Contently sat cross legged feeding the ducks with Tesco finest pate.
Judge me you say, but have you ever known the cheap thrills of aisle 7 at Zan when the post-club buzz called out to Sushi and Ben & Jerry’s?
When next you visit there, post your derriere in the fridge in aisle 7, hold your nuggets aloft and proclaim,
I am a true consumer, show me the merit of your local produce and allow me but one Jacobs cracker…..
A cracker is our Big John who buggered off to London, no longer will the 6″7 man mountain be seen Lycra clad and firm pounding the hills and valleys of Sheffield looking for his next victim to massage (appropriately) to say he a manipulator of women would be an understatement.,
but complaint, there’s been none heard, but then in old station drive, no one can hear to scream.