I'm going to leave ONE LINE to begin a story. The first person to stop by will write the next sentence in the comments. The next commenter's line must logically follow that one, and so on. (You've played this improv game at sleepovers before, right?) For flexibility I will say we can allow two sentences per comment if needed.
At 5 PM PST I will close comments and post the final passage! So hopefully if you are reading this and it is nearing closing time, you will try to come up with a sentence that ties things up--but if not, that's OK! Remember, keep it clean.
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Chester Peabody was rolling over in his grave.
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9 comments:
Literally. It had taken Rogue Thompson all night to find the right grave.
It had been a damp night where the chill soaked deep into the bones, yet Rogue continued to weave his way through the gravestones,intent on finding one name.
"Found It!" he whispered to himself while clutching his dying, dimming flashlight.
"Now what?" he asked aloud. He hadn't actually expected to find what he was after.
"Well obviously, we have to dig him up," his companion scoffed.
"I didn't really bring my "digging up dead body tools" with me," Rogue shot back.
"What did you plan to do--sit around and wait for Mrs. Peabody to show up and do your job? There's only one way to find out who's really in there and you know it."
Rogue dug through his pockets before pulling out a utensil. "A spork will take too long. Go find the backhoe and hot wire it."
"What 'backhoe'? Surely you have a better plan than a spork or a backhoe! What kind of Private Investigator are you anyway?"
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