Pass The Sentence
Hosted by Star (up in the Sky)
Overview
The “Pass the Sentence” game is a collaborative storytelling activity where participants take turns adding one sentence at a time to a developing narrative.
Five writers came together to write a thrilling story of a band of travellers searching for mysterious ‘cargo’.
This story is co-authored by:
Star (up in the Sky), Nuuth, Amooyong, Oni, Junniper Bug
Our story begins…
The forest kept still as the band of travellers crunched their way over detritus and foliage, searching for the location on their map.
Their objective was disarmingly simple; get in, secure the cargo, get out before sunset.
The air was thick with tension. “The Cargo” is what they called it but unspoken was the truth of what they were really setting out to claim.
A member of the group spoke up, eyeing a landmark on their map and pointing ahead, “I think that’s the bended tree we’re looking for!”
The first to respond to the news was the group’s canine companion that had been helping to scout the path ahead. A black hound dog, with red eyes and a coat that possessed a brilliant sheen that made its movement look like dark ichor passing under the filtered light of the trees.
The dog approached, wide eyed in anticipation. If only the dog knew what “The Cargo” was.
The party emerged from within the forest to a game trail that lined a small plot of land. Smooth cobbled stone paved the way to a small hut, under the cover of a large free standing roof. Beasts of metal, with teeth like grills stood at attention beneath the roof, their low roars echoing through the valley.
And across the roof’s surface, in lights, read the words:
Car Go: Patroleum
As all their eyes – even their hound’s – read those words, they realised a crucial piece of information the sly, moustached merchant forgot to tell them: They had been led like geese in a fruitless chase. A wild goose chase, to say.
The man that had been holding the map tilted his head. Rotated the map in his hands to confirm his navigations. No, this is definitely the spot. He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temples. “So, we’re gonna… get in, secure the cargo… before sunset – that’s what Moustach Ed Merchant asked us to do, yeah?” He heard a soft whine from the hound, who was pawing at a hand painted sign.
“OPEN 24 HOURS, 7 DAYS A WEEK EXCEPT THURSDAYS (THAT’S DATE NIGHT!) WHEN WE CLOSE AT SUNSET WE RESUME BUSINESS FROM MIDNIGHT!!
The Car Go: Petroleum Team”
“Such foul beasts block our ingress,” cried Chad, “This foe shall quiver before me.” Before the party could react, he had mounted one of the metal beasts and cast his warhammer through its glass eye.
With a thundering clanging sound, a nearby rolling door opened to reveal three burly men covered in a dark substance, one wiping his hands as though he had just been dealing with the source of the substance.
“WHO DARES DISTURB OUR DATE NIGHT?” bellowed one of the men. Chad reeled in horror. The substance on the men could only be a part of whatever amorous adventure the group had interrupted. And from the wound in the eye where his warhammer was lodged the same dark substance began to drip. Screeching in disgust, Chad ripped his weapon from the eye and launched himself off the metal beast. “Moustache Ed, you sick, dry, pervert,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course you’re looking for some world class lubricant.”
The End
Would you like to join or run a workshop?
At Art Dinkum we love peer-to-peer learning and sharing. Come join in the fun or drop some hot knowledge with your creative fellows!