Writing Contest - Sentences I Never Thought I Would Say Or Hear: Volume Six

Jun 01, 2024

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Use one or more of these collected sentences in a story, a script, a piece of original music, or a poem that you write.
No editing the prompts. They must remain intact.
Post a link to the story, poem, music, or script you have written in the comments of this article so I can find them and so that others may enjoy reading these too.
This link you provide will serve as your “entry.”
The link must be listed in the comments of this article below in order to qualify as an entry.
I will read all of these and choose a winner. I am a human being. I promise nothing but my own subjectivity as a judge. It’s the best I’ve got, so it will have to do.
You may comment as much as you like, but only enter one piece for consideration. I only have one me, so unless one of you can clone me, you are only allowed to enter once.
The winner gets glory, bragging rights, and a free year of SFC on Substack.
You have until June 30, 2024, to submit your entry in the comments below.
After that, I will create another post in which I will link all of the entries and announce the winners.

And without further ado, here’s the prompt list for Volume Six….

I can’t even. I’m much too odd.
Whoever edited this drank too much sizzurp and leg humped a video toaster emulator.
No tuna salad mountaineers. I wanna watch mine.
Hearty-head doing a triple lindy with onlooking diagonal leaky laughing faces in tow.
If you can’t pop and lock, you’re getting thrown out of Harvard Medical School faster than Buffy gets demerits for fucking over curfew again.
And if you can’t… keep faking your own death for shits and giggles until someone teaches you how to live.
If they can't wrap their heads around a psyop, how are they going to deal with psyopception triple somersault with a maraschino cherry on top?
“We’ve done the Folger’s switch, except we’ve replaced your usual blue Kool-Aid with the refreshing taste of red…. Let’s see if anyone notices!”
Welcome to 1939 slipping 1984 a mickey and birthing Rosemary’s baby.
Scroll up to the Furby Organ.
And I went BACK meme spelunking to find it.
Because what the rhizomatic monkey fuck weirdness is THIS?!
That’s the last thing we need - piezoelectric zombies in psychic broadcast mode.
It’s blurrrrrsday the eleventeenth of dodecatember.

Is your support network really a barbed wire fence?
I am the heroine coming to save me.
Like merry fucking Christmas - I’m hijacking your brain so you can be on a manic tirade all day and annoy the living shit out of mom and dad….
Doom porn is almost as popular as porn porn.
Just don’t let zombies eat your brain radio.
I am the Lord's delete finger.
Don't let me ever catch you pissin’ in the fridge toilet.