Match Game Story: "Stupid Sally began her essay on linguine with 'Pasta is made __ glutens.'"

[Rabrrrrrr]

Standard rules apply - ten words or more in the blank space. Make a story.

Try to make it Lovecraftian or Harlqeuin romance-ish. Or both. Doesn't matter. It's YOUR story. Be creative.

Have fun!

And to all you people who only read these things and never post a story - shame on you!! You're creative, too - write a story, dammit!

[HopeHoops]

1. by small gnomes with bad dental habits who are allergic to

Stupid Sally began her essay on linguine with 'Pasta is made by small gnomes with bad dental habits who are allergic to glutens'.

[Rabrrrrrr]

8. Terse and surreal. Good job!

:thumbsup:

[DS1]

2. Stupid Sally began her essay on linguine with 'Pasta is made

of wheat flour and water. My mom makes me eat pasta when my child support payments run out, and she has to go make happytime with another banker so I can have some vegetables again. I miss vegetables. Pasta makes me drowsy, so I sleep a lot after I eat it. Then I stay awake, and find myself watching late night informercials. If mom doesn't start taking it in the ass for a fat divorce settlement soon, I'm going to slapchop the fuck out of Wilford Brimley, and Shamwow his corpse until there's nothing left but glutens.

[Rabrrrrrr]

7. Best use of "Shamwow" as a verb goes to DS1!

:applause:

[Dr. Strange]

3. Lovecraftian? I like!

Stupid Sally began her essay on linguine with 'Pasta is made, not born.' She realized how stupid it sounded, but she was hopped up on goofballs, and had to the essay written by 3:00. She tried to focus, but it just wasn't working. In a fit of frustration, she screamed out, "I'd sell my soul to get this essay written."
And, as often happens when that phrase is uttered, a column of smoke appeared, eventually taking the form of a red man with horns. At first, Sally was excited, thinking she was seeing a narwhal. But then she realized that this red man was none other than the Prince of Darkness: Satan.
"Did I hear you correctly, little girl? Would you like to sell me your soul?" the Devil asked.
She paused before answering. "Yes! I hate writing essays. I never should have taken this stupid Advanced Pastas course!"
"Very well. Sign this contract, and I will deliver you one magnificent linguine essay. Oh, by the way, your breasts look funny. You might want to get them checked for Lyme disease."
Sally began to sign the contract. But before the pen hit the paper, a hole appeared in the ground. From the hole rose a large aquatic looking figure, with tentacles hanging from its face. No horns, though, so clearly this was also not a narwhal.
"Satan! WTF art thou doing?" the creature asked.
"Well, well, my dear old friend Cthulhu. I thought you were still sleeping."
"No. I have finally wakened, and even now am prepared to dine on the souls of mortals."
"Well, that's all fine and dandy, but this girl's soul is mine. So fuck off."
"Perhaps we should let her choose?" Cthulhu suggested.
"What? Why?"
The Elder One turned to Sally. "Mortal female, I am a much better writer than Satan. Let me write your essay. It will be a guaranteed hit."
"No! I'm the better writer. Don't listen to him!"
"If you let me write it, I'll even eat Satan here."
"What?" Satan yelled. "That's rude!"
"Yes," replied Sally, as she gazed at the face of Cthulhu. "Yes, I want you to write my essay."
"No fucking way!" cried Satan.
"It is demanded. Satan, get thee behind me, and fetch the typewriter."
Satan refused, and Cthulhu responded by eating him.
After seven minutes of furious typing, the essay was done. He handed it to Sally.
Sally read it and was so moved that she started crying. "It--it's beautiful."
"Yes," replied Cthulhu; and then he devoured Sally.
After consuming her soul, the Elder One placed another page in the typewriter and made a change to his essay. 'It is worth noting,' he wrote, 'that both Satan and the souls of mortals (much like linguine) is chock full of vital glutens.'


Artist's Rendition:

[Rabrrrrrr]

6. Excellent!

[GCP]

4. Stupid Sally began her essay on linguine with 'Pasta is made

Out of durum flour and', when she was suddenly interrupted by a strange noise emanating from her heating duct, on the floor behind her. Sally had heard strange noises before in the old crooked house which dated from the 17th century. It was on the outskirts of Arkham, that ancient village with its long vile history of strange disappearances and misshapen inhabitants. Sally usually ignored the noises coming from beyond the duct, but this time she was annoyed, as she wanted to finish this frigging homework without further interruptions. She pulled up the duct and reeled in horror at the sight of three lambent eyes glowing at her from deep in the ductwork.
Quickly crossing herself and invoking the spirit of Sarah Palin, she grabbed her pump handled shotgun and gave that son-of-a-bitch Cthulhu six lead injections.
Picking up her pen again, she continued with the assignment - 'water. This can be dangerous food for anyone who is afflicted with an allergy to glutens".

[Rabrrrrrr]

5. Wonderful!

[Commie Pinko Dirtbag]

9. Here.

Stupid Sally began her essay on linguine with 'Pasta is made for people who eat too much and don't mind being fat. They're called glutens.'

[sammythecat]

10. Ha ha

Perfect