Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

What do you guys and girls think? worthy of becoming an actual short story?

A bird unlike any Justin had seen before flew down onto the ground and croaked at him, making him stop in surprise.
He didn't know that the bird he was looking at was a magpie, a native to a country called Australia, a place yet to be colonized.
When he stopped, he noticed something peculiar. It wasn't just birds that were now surrounding him, but insects and small animals that seemed far too curious in him.

He had had enough shock in one day. "Leave me be!" He cried, running through them quickly. He startled the animals and birds, but as he ran through a feather from the magpie that stopped him brushed against his skin. The creatures knew this had happened and did not follow Justin. After running further, Justin realised this and sat down on a log, exhausted and upset that his day was just getting worse.
He buried his head in his hands and started to cry. He would never see his family again! The witches had made him an out-cast in his own country!
But as he cried, he noticed something. A black feather appeared on his left leg and he pulled it out, thinking it was a feather from one of the birds that had surrounded him before. When he did that, more appeared on his leg. But they didn't seem to go beyond his foot.
Confused, he stood up and looked down at his legs, inspecting them both.

That was when his feet cracked and popped painfully. He groaned and nursed his feet, rubbing them to stop the pain, falling back down as he did. He watched in shock as his feet grew longer and his toes became harder, stranger. He could barely understand this 'thing' when it suddenly got worse. His arms and hands melted back into his body and instead wings replaced them. Two wings, one pure black and the other black with a circle of white that curved into his shoulder. He tried to scream, but what came out was more of a strange croak as his mouth and nose started to morph together to make a solid, brown beak.
He rolled around, crying in pain, ripping his clothes off and trying to stop what was happening, but he couldn't.

Within minutes he had become a magpie. The creatures that had surrounded him before had come to see him again and he looked at them sadly.
"Run," The creatures all seemed to tease. "Run or fly! You will live forever, but we will always find you."
The magpie that had stopped him before came forward and croaked. "I will teach you how to fly. Come to where I live and we can be free!"
Justin knew he had become a bird now, because he could understand the magpie.
He had no choice but to agree, and the two of them flew off into the distance, being watched by the creatures of the forest.'

The boy finished the story and threw a pebble along the river-bank. The cracking noise it made me shack as I snapped out of the trance I had been in. I looked up at the boy's face, trying to see it in the dark of the bridge.
"You think Justin chose to run away? Yet through the power of the witches, he had no choice too. Do you still want to run away from your life, Leslie?"
I wasn't sure now. The story of that kid seemed to get to me a little, but how was I supposed to know it was true? Amazing though it was, I couldn't help but think maybe he had just told me the story JUST to make me change my mind.
"Yes, I do. And your story didn't change my mind either."
He nodded silently. "I thought so. Come closer please. Time for your gift."

I heard him rummage in his pocket for something and I leaned closer to receive the gift. As I did, I noticed the creatures surrounding us looked eager, like they were being entertained by my curiosity. I felt his hand grasp mine and for a fleeting moment I thought he was going to kill me or do something terrible, but I was wrong. From his hand he dropped something into my hand and I could sense the smile form on his lips.
"Justin has been alone for such a long time, but the witches never told him that his curse could be shared. Justin had to learn it himself. Be calm, please, because it won't hurt if you do."
Confused, I looked in my hand and saw a black seed. Curious, I sniffed at it, wondering why he would give me a seed. The seed opened and a tiny light jumped out and hovered in front of my eyes. Then it zapped me on my forehead and I slapped at the sting.
"Ouch! What did you do that for?" I looked up for the boy. But he was gone. The animals had not, but I could see nothing of him. I felt like that boy, Justin, from the story. Surrounded by the animals and not knowing what their intentions were. I was worried that they would attack me, so I took my chance and ran through their numbers before they could get me. I ran back up the hill until I made it to the paddocks outside of the Bega Cheese Factory, where no-one could see me.

Funnily enough, it was there I came across a young mare, who looked at me in surprise and neighed softly. Feeling sorry for scaring it, I decided to try and make friends with it. So I plucked some grass from the ground and called it back over to me. It was hesitant for a moment, but then galloped happily over and nudged my shoulders for food.
I smiled. At least here was an animal I could relate to.
I stroked the mare's face gently and it seemed to smile. "You're a gorgeous creature, you know that? If I had to change into something like that Justin boy in that boy's story, I would be glad if it was something as wonderful as you."
She stared at me with soft, caring eyes and neighed contentedly.
That's when I felt my hair lengthen. I went to feel it but stopped when I saw my hands. HOOVES! My hands were morphing into hooves!
I staggered in shock and started to cry from the pain and the realization of my mistake. The boy's story had been true after all, I was changing into a horse! And that meant the boy must have been Justin himself! Still the same age as he had been the day the witches caught him.

I felt my clothes rip off me as my stomach got larger and my back arched down-wards painfully. My face stretched out until it looked just like a horse's face and I felt a rough tail curl out from my spine. I knew the change had finished when the mare turned to me and whispered. "Shall we run together, sister?"
Still with tears in my eyes, I wobbled over and joined my new friend on a gallop through the fields. Where we were free to 'fly' as far as we could.
I often think about that boy, Justin, though, as I go around morphing into different creatures I come across. I wonder why he would choose me to be the second person in the world to be able to transform into different creatures. The second, and last, animorpher in the world.
The end.

No-one paid attention to the boy as he walked through the town, whistling to himself a catchy but strange tune. No-one seemed to notice the fact that every bird in the sky seemed to be following him and every dog seemed to want to touch him. No-one except me. I had been watching him ever since he arrived.

The boy was new to the town. And strangers weren't exactly appreciated in Bega unless they knew stuff that was useful to the town. He looked about my age. I hoped I could be like him and not have to worry about what others thought. I hated what little I had in my life and sometimes I wished I could just fly away from it all and become something else. Being in Bega was the Pits! Being twelve was worse!
The boy was walking around with no shoes on, which was strange to begin with, but he didn't seem to care. It seemed he had trained his feet to be completely invulnerable to hard cement paths or shattered bottles scattered across the street. He walked with a purpose, but I didn't know where.
Following him close behind without making too much noise, I ended up coming to the bridge that divided Bega from its cheese factory. The boy didn't seem to stop once as he walked down the hill and disappeared underneath the bridge.

Careful, I repeated the process, expecting to see the boy continuing his journey along the dry river bank. But he had stopped and was staring right at me, which made me jump back in shock. I couldn't see his proper face under the bridge, but I knew he was sad.
"Why have you been following me, Leslie?" He asked, his voice like smooth waves calming me down.
"How did you know my name?" I queried. No-one knew me except my family and maybe two other people in Bega. I kinda liked it that way.
"I know everything about you. My friends inform me of things that might be of interest to me, and you are. Why do you want to run away so badly?"
"No-one appreciates me, and I am just used as a maid. I try to be helpful, but no-one seems to notice." Why was I telling him all this? I didn't even know him, and yet he seemed to be some-one I could trust. Goodness knows how I could see that.
He sighed. He sat down and patted on the ground near him for me to join him. "I want to tell you a story. A story of a boy who did NOT want to run away from what he had, but in the end had to because of what happened to him. You must not ask questions, and when I am finished, I want to give you something in return, so be patient."
I was hesitant now, but he looked so sad I couldn't walk away. I watched in wonder as some small animals, rats and mice and rabbits, seemed to join us and stare at me in curiosity. The boy started to tell his story. "It begins rather suddenly with the boy trapped by witches in the medieval days, a boy named Justin,"

'Justin watched in fear as the three cackling witches stirred bubbling gunk inside a cauldron. He couldn't escape, as they had captured him and chained him up in some kind of strange chain that became tighter if he moved just an inch. He didn't know why the three witches had captured him, because he had done nothing to them to deserve whatever they were about to do to him.
The witch on the left turned to him and smiled an evil, crackled smile.
"You should count yourself lucky, boy. We are about to test a spell never used by anyone before, and you will be our guinea pig. You shouldn't be scared, though. We have heard it gives the drinker eternal life."
Justin worked up the courage to ask. "If you have never used it before, how do you know it won't kill me? Why do you test such a dangerous, disgusting brew on me when you would be better to use it on yourselves?"

The second witch, who seemed to be older, didn't even turn around as she replied. "If this is successful on you, then we will have it. And if it is not, well... we'll just have to see, won't we sisters?" The terrible trio cackled and laughed as Justin silently cried to himself. After this, he was certain he would never see his family or friends again. After this, who knew what the future would throw at him?
The third witch, the only one that had black hair, smiled as a puff of smoke emitted from the cauldron. They stopped stirring the liquid and the third witch zapped a bowl over to the cauldron with her wand. "I think it's ready!" She announced.
Justin was fearful as the broth was poured into the bowl and the witches bought it over to him. He tried to hold his mouth shut, but the witches easily over-powered him.
"Open wide! Heeheeheeheehee!" They shoved the foul stuff into his mouth and he had no choice but to swallow it. He immediately regretted it as the taste was so foul he almost felt sick.
"You three are foul, evil things!" He managed to complain.
But the witches ignored the remark as the second witch looked at the book of spells and proclaimed, annoyed. "The book says we must give him the whole cauldron for it to take full effect. We do not even know what it does yet."
"No! Surely not anymore!" Justin cried.
The witches, for once, were hesitant. "If we give the whole cauldron to him, we won't have any for ourselves! We will not have full lives!" The first complained.
"Ah! But fret not sisters! We can collect the ingredients once again when we know for sure it worked. If the book says we must, then we shall!" The third added, zapping the cauldron off the fir and making it hover towards Justin.

Justin, frightened to the bones, started to try and escape again, but the chains would not let him go. "Please, have mercy! You have no idea what this thing will do to me! Why have you chosen me?"
"Because children are so much easier to test on, boy. And no-one will ever know you even went missing, because you're name will never have existed! Now, DRINK!"
The foul, odorous concoction was all forced into the poor boys stomach, and even the liquid that spilt from his mouth was sent back in quickly by the witches. For an unholy and uncomfortable few minutes this captured boy had to gulp down the muck without any hope of help, and when it was all drained he could barely breath properly. There was not a single drop of the stuff left, but the third witch had been right. They could always get more ingredients and try again.
Outside the hovel, birds of all kinds suddenly had very keen interest with the process in the witches' home. Even birds that were not natural to the old English country.
"It says here that the potion should take almost immediate effect. However, it doesn't say what should happen." The third witch commented.
The first witch turned on the boy and pointed at him with her wand. "You, boy, do you feel anything? Is there anything different about you from before?"
Justin answered. "The only thing I feel is sick. Unless you can see anything different about me, then I'd have to say the 'spell' was a failure."
The three witches groaned in annoyance. "Perhaps we did it wrong?" One suggested. "No, sisters. The boy speaks the truth.We have been deceived by our own book of spells." The second pointed out. "What do we do with him?" The third asked. "Release him. We don't need him anymore."
Justin sighed with relief. What he would give to get as far away from those wicked witches as soon as possible.

The witches unchained Justin and allowed him to leave, but with strict instructions. "If you tell anyone about what happened to you, we will come after you. Now go!"
Justin ran out of the hovel as quick as his stiff legs could take him, wincing as he heard the witches argue and curse over the failed spell.
He wondered if the witches had been telling the truth. Had they done something so that he could not return to his home? If so, then he would have to live by himself, far away from any magical, evil thing. If he could, he would fly away forever and just get as far away from everything he knew.
___________________________________
more coming soon.

I made this when I listened to Weird Al's song 'Germs' the other day and thought I could try and make something similar. you may notice that some of the words are the same as the real 'Germs' song, but I hope you enjoy it.
_____________________________________
FANS!
Parody of 'Germs!' by Weird Al Yankovic.
New Lyrics by JustParodiezMan.
Verse 1:
Sometimes I really wanna make a book, but that's one thing I cannot do.
Because I feel like I have millions upon millions of excited people who want to see what I have new.
Chorus 1: Fans!
Verse 2: I try to avoid them like a plague that's out to get me, (Fans!) but they just come right back again.
They're watching me, knowing I am up to something. But, they can't stop, they're absolutely insane!
Chorus 2:
They're all over me! They can't get enough of me! Can't get them off of me! I've lots of addicted fans of my books.
Why do they follow me? I feel their stalking me! Just get them away from me!
I've lots of addicted fans of my books.
Verse 3:
Now if I ever get to go to sleep, that's when they keep on coming back.
In the morning I wake up and to my horror, I find that my blog has its own infamous pack.
Can't rid the world of those weird pictures of my face, I wish they'd all just go away.
I never said that they could camp out on my front lawn. I wish they'd find a new famous writer and stay away.
Chorus 3:
They're all loving me! They wanna be like me! Why can't no-one see?
I'm covered with addicted fans of my books.
What do they want from me? Do they want my money? There's no escape, you see.
I'm pestered by addicted fans of my books.
Fans! Fans! Fans! Fans! Fans!
Verse 4:
They're creeping around my lawn, they're watching me get a drink.
They desperately want to know what I am about to think.
They're watching me clean my teeth; they're watching me get a kiss.
I cannot believe they don't want to miss my long kiss.
I wish they would all get lost, I wish they'd get a job!
Just wish I hadn't made my famous website blog!
I know I'm paranoid, what else can I be?
They've got a convention.... See?!
Chorus 4:
They're all crowding me! They've got signs I see, to prove they love me!
I'm crowded by addicted fans of my books.
'Can you sign this please? Make it out to wonky knees! Hey, please say cheese!'
He's pestered by addicted fans of his books.
Verse 5:
Fans! They're all over me!
Fans! I can't get them off of me.
Fans! They can't get enough of me!
Fans! Fans! I know they're watching me!
Fans! They've made dolls of me!
Fans! They're dressing just like me!
Fans! Won't somebody help (Fans!) me!
Please somebody help me! Fans!
They've gotta just leave (Fans!) me!
They're trying to be (Fans!) me!
They wanna watch just (Fans!) me!
They wanna collect (Fans!) me!
They're trying to sell (Fans!) me!
It kinda annoys (Fans!) me!
Uh!

Baker Boy.
Parody of 'Sk8ter boi' By Avril Lavigne.
New Lyrics by JustParodiezMan.

Verse 1:
He was a boy, eating a swirl.
Down in a bakery called 'Gee whiz'
He saw a sign for a new guy to work in that place.
He needs the work, but he's too young, he decided to get taller for fun.
Got a résumé for the bakery and now he's working in secret shifts.

Chorus 1:
He is a baker boy, but he is a faker boy,
Wearing a beard to hide his face.
He can make lots of cakes, but hides behind what he makes.
He kneads the dough for all its worth.

Verse 2:
Schooling at home, he is alone,
Wondering when he can go get stoned.
He goes down the street, guess who he sees,
His secret crush buying a tasty treat.
He watches her friends talking alone,
He wanders if they know she's going home.
They eat a cake that he had made when he had started his work.

Chorus 2:
He is a baker boy, but he is a faker boy,
He wanted to impress the girl.
But how can he show his face, when it means getting disgrace.
He wanted to show her all he's worth.
He is a baker boy, selling his new cake, oh boy!
He's gonna get that pretty girl.
But when is he gonna make a cake that he's gonna bake,
For a wedding in the future.

Verse 3:
Use your work for lots of feeds,
And you'll get those shiny beads,
That you want to give to her,
And she'll come to you my friend.
Too bad that she cannot see,
Who that baker boy can be.
Cakes and rolls to reach the sky,
Will make her never say good-bye.

Verse 4:
He is a boy, wanting that girl.
Working so hard at the shop 'Gee Whiz'
He is in love, she doesn't know.
But he'll make a lovely swirl.

Chorus 3:
He is a baker boy, but he is a faker boy,
He's gonna get that beautiful girl.
He's making scones and rolls, to get her lots of dolls.
To make her come to him, you know.
You'll get her later boy, when you're not a baker boy,
But she sees that you're all your worth.
But now you're too young for girls,
So keep making those nice swirls.
You've made the best cake in the world.
______________________________
enjoy this one guys and gals!

actually, i just realised this wasn't even the proper finished version. 'slap to thehead' stupid me! I can't find the fully finished one though, so u guys r sorta lucky.

thanks. I liked writing this. it was fun. not writing another one though. this one was too hard as it was.

what... wait, are you talking about my play?

did i say it was going to be funny? it's just random, ok?

JustParodiezMan Presents:
Chiller.
Parody of the greatest Michael Jackson song EVER 'Thriller'.

Verse 1:
It's during lunch-time,
Every kid is out to play today.
Under the sun-shine,
It's so sunny outside they'd rather play
With you today, but suddenly there are clouds appearing above,
They start to scream and cry what happened to the sky they love,
We'll have to go inside.

Chorus 1:
'Cause it's a Chiller, Chiller Day.
And no-one's gonna change the weird weather right now,
You know it's Chiller, Chiller day.
They want to go inside on the old Chiller, Chiller day now. Yeah.
BRRRR! Oh!

Verse 2:
You hear the door slam,
And realise there's no-one left to warn.
You feel the cold hands
of every kid that wants to get warm.
You say 'ok,
who wants to play computer games today ... Kids?'
but they still cry,
how their play was ruined outside today,
They'd rather say,

Chorus 2:
'Teacher, it's a Killer, Chiller day,
Our fun was ruined by those raindrops outside, oh now.
Chiller, Thriller Day.
Why does the rain come now, oh, on the Chiller, Chiller Day now?'

Verse 3:
Every school kid runs inside to get out of the rain today.
There's no escape from the cold feeling of the day.
There's something odd in the rain. Oh!
They're getting warm now,
As rain pelts hard over-head.
They start to smile now,
As they now know they are not dead.
They start to play,
Games like 'what's the time Mister Wolf'? Yeah.
When suddenly, the sun clears through the rainy clouds.
It looks to me

Chorus 3:
Like this cold Chiller, Chiller day.
Has ended its reign over the beautiful day right now, kids.
Get out, go and play.
I know it'll be alright after the Chiller, Chiller, Chiller, Chiller cold day.
Cause it was a Chiller, Chiller day.
The kids all run outside like mad filled with sugar right now. Oh!
Chiller, Chiller day.
Has now ended and we will get out, and play for the day.

Verse 4:
Its principal time.
Darkness fell across the field,
That midday frost begins to yield.
Kids are playing in the mud,
Knowing they'll be covered in suds,
(It's principal time.)
As soon as they get home today,
Because mud feels harder in May.
So enjoy your time out in the sun
And know that you can now have fun.

Bridge:
(It's principal time. Chiller, Brrr, Chiller, Chiller time, Chiller, all down, Kiddies. It's principal time, Chiller, Chiller, Chiller, all down, Chiller time.)

Verse 5:
The cold, hard chill was in the sky,
It makes you wonder why, oh why.
When this day ends, you'll be ok.
You'll want to shout and say hooray.
And though this day made you cold and cry
You'll never forget that quiver.
For none on Earth can escape
A day like 'The Chiller.'
____________________
this was the first song I ever parodied. enjoy!

Homer Simpson.
Parody of Bad Reputation by Half Cocked.
Created by JustParodiezMan.

Verse 1:
There was once a guy named Matt Groening.
Who made a TV show that never got us moaning.
And a boy can watch what he wants to, and that's what I'm gonna do.

Chorus:
And the father is the best, his name's Homer Simpson.
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!

Verse 2:
This man was the best at screwing things up.
His dear wife just wants him to grow up.
His three young kids look nothing like him, but what would that matter to him?

Chorus 2:
And it's true that his name was Homer, Homer Simpson
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!

Verse 3:
He never gives up on his wild mood swings.
He's always choking Bart when he does mean things.
And he doesn't really care where he goes, he's just gonna explode.

Chorus:
And it's true that his name was Homer, Homer Simpson.
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
Watch it now!

Verse 4:
The series will go on, you can't change that.
The family will have fun and trouble with aliens.
And people can say what they want to say,
These guys will never change.

Chorus:
And it's true that his name was Homer, Homer Simpson.
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
Whoa, Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh!
Woo-hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!
-End!-
____________________________
if u no 'Bad Reputation', this should go precisely 2 the music.
what do u guys think?

hey, that's gr8! thanks so much! ok. that's what the rest of this is gonna b 4. cheers for that!

does writing in this forum also include song lyrics for songs u'd like to parody but weird al or other famous people haven't done yet?
plz reply

well. just remember I've never written a play b4 and this was something I did 4 a writing course, which the teacher was proud of it. how do u think I could have fixed it?

ah! ok, thanks. I'll keep that in mind. thank u. i've been writing since I was 6 and I'm now 19. it's not easy, but it's fun!

Boat rescue. Play written by Justin T. Hunt.

[The stage lights up on a fishing boat where three men are standing, poles in hand.]

Burke: Have ta get at least five fish for my two pooches today, so all eyes on the water, blokes, and fingers on the wheels!
Saddam: you talk much, English! Only true Arabian elderly man catch good fish!
Hollywood [Laughs loudly]: I'm the talker and master fish catcher, you two don't know who you're up against!

[A loud splash is heard and the men turn left to see a wet squirrel staring at them.]

Micklang: Hello friends! How are you on this fine day?
Burke, Saddam and Hollywood: It's a bloody talking squirrel!
Burke: I think this sets the barrier for most unlikely thing to happen...ugh, I need to use little boys room!

[Burke disappears into bottom of boat.]

Saddam: Get outta here, you English squirrel! I'll make you into fish bait!
Hollywood: Leave the squirrel alone, Arabic arsehole! What he ever do to you? Stay and help us catch fish, Micky!

[Smoke suddenly appears and Burke runs up on deck.]

Burke; I think I clogged the toilet.
Saddam: You English idiot who paints too much, you've killed us all!
Hollywood: anyone got a mobile or way of getting help?
Micklang: I could swim to shore and get help.
Saddam: Squirrels can't swim, idiot!
Hollywood: Leave Micky alone, awful Arabie!

[Helicopter noise over-head.]

Burke: Search-and-rescue, FINALLY!
Saddam: Let's go!

[They enter helicopter and look at driver. It is a young girl around ten, and is wearing a tutu.]

Dakota: You jokers got a problem?
Burke [To men and squirrel]: Not a bloody word, this chick's mine!
_____________________________
yeh, I no, totally random. but, hey, never done a play b4. what's the verdict?

well, thnx, man! but what exactly do u mean by choppiness? could u explain

As he walked towards it, the guillotine's clown eyes appeared to follow him and become angrier. But no-one was there to see it happen.
Charles noticed the ants still sucking up the blood from two days back and bent down to inspect it.
He noticed the nail that had come out and picked it up, trying to figure out why it was covered in blood. He popped it under some water and put it back on the machine where it belonged and then noticed THE FINGER.
The finger was small and wiggling, like the machine was keeping it alive. Charles felt like being sick.
Without asking any-one for help or what he should do, Charles started to try and pull the finger out. He even got a knife he found and tried to cut it. It did nothing but make the finger bleed. The finger would not come off.

It was about this time when the guillotine came to life.
It started smashing its' metallic plates down like a thunder clap.
SLAM!! SMASH!!CLANG!! WHAM!!
Charles KNEW there was no-one else except the boss and himself there now, and it was unlikely the boss would turn on the guillotine for no reason.
Charles run out and looked at the guillotine in fear. It looked at him in rage.
The metallic plates smashed down again.
WHAM!!
Charles felt his fingers dropped off painfully and stared in horror as they slithered towards the archives, and his hand grew mechanical parts like his first finger had.

The guillotine smashed down again.
SLAM!!
Charles suddenly fell to the floor, he felt heavy and he couldn't move. His stomach was slowly getting bigger and larger until it was the same size as the machine in the old archive area. It moulded itself into the shape of a rectangle painfully, oh so painfully. Charles found he could not scream, he could only grunt in pain. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew the guillotine's plates were causing it.

He tried hard to move, to get away, but the guillotine smashed down again.
CRASH!!
The pain that time was so excruciating he DID yell. Surely his boss could hear all this? But he knew the boss was high upstairs, where he couldn't hear the machines.
With every slam of the guillotine, parts of Charles body would painfully transform into the very machine he had tried to fix only moments before.
AND WITH EVERY SLAM, THE MACHINE BECAME CHARLES.

Eventually, and to the real Charles' terror, his whole body had taken on the form of the machine. He couldn't move, he couldn't talk, he could only think 'Dear lord Help me!'
The machine that had turned into him walked slowly out in full view of Charles and, if he could, he would have gasped at the sight.
"I have to thank you, Charles, for trying to do something to help me out. But you should have listened to the co-workers and done everything under the supervision of the boss. But now, just so there are no witnesses, and just so your mind can no longer think, I am about to do something to your body which will show to you exactly what happens to those that just don't listen."
The machine in Charles' body walked towards the smiling clown guillotine, which opened its' saws like it was welcoming him to death.
Charles could not scream out stop, he could not prevent what was happening, he could only watch in pure, white terror as the machine in Charles body laid itself under the guillotine, smiled at Charles the machine and then put its' head on the table.
The blade came down once more, and at that power nothing would stop it.

The next day, when workers came in, they found the old machine that was kept in the archives out near the guillotine, with a small wet bit near its top which, after some-one was interested enough to taste, decided it was a tear from some-one's eyes.
They did not find Charles' body, nor did they see any blood. But had they taken the machine they wheeled back to the archives apart and looked around VERY careful and closely, they would have found something which no scientist in any universe could explain.
The machine now had a brain.
And while they wheeled the machine back, the clown guillotine settled down and waited for the next sucker to do something wrong.
After all, it had always been the CLOWN that got everything right.
Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaa!
The End.

The Curse of The Clown Guillotine.
Written by Justin T. Hunt.

Day One.
'The legend goes that a retired clown used to work at GrinBookPublishers company taking care of every element of any job. No-one understood why he did it or how he always managed to get things right all the time. But one day, one of the machines broke, the guillotine for chopping up the papers and that. He tried to fix it, but he had been in the wrong area to do so. Only one man was present and saw the death. After the funeral, the man who saw the death later disappeared from the face of the earth, but rumour had it that he had been killed because he did something without making sure he was supposed to. Ever since then, everyone made sure they did all things right by going to the boss first... "That's the story they told ME, anyway. But I'm sure you'll be fine Charles. Now, go along and collect up the rubbish bins, ok?"

Charles had been listening to a co-worker yakking on about the legendary mystery that had surrounded the book publishing business for years. Everyone in town knew about it, but no-one was sure why the place was still going. Probably because it was a horror publishing place and a horror mystery would attract customers more. Charles had started work at the place only a few months ago, and he had not once come across anything creepy. But that was only because he had listened to his boss and did what was smart, asked what he was supposed to do next.

That afternoon was a busy one, no doubt. He had to finish work and then go straight to a mate's b'day party, and then get things ready at home for his mum's return home after her second honeymoon with her new husband. He was kept very busy for an only child. Dragging his eighteen-year-old body around with the rubbish bins he had, Charles noticed a machine that was switched on for no reason with no one manning it or looking like they would use it any time soon. Feeling that it would be stupid NOT to turn it off, Charles searched the machine for the switch, found it then turned it off without another thought.
Nobody saw him do it, and the machine hardly could talk for itself.
He finished the day not even one percent guilty about the 'crime' he had done, and then found himself asleep at home before he even realised the day had finished.

Day Two.
It was Charles' day off for Wednesday, as was always the case.
He had organised with a few of his friends to go out and see a new movie in town, on that would no doubt be scary and blood-thirsty.
Once he had finished making himself breakfast and eating it like it was his last, Charles set about making breakfast for his mum and his new dad. They had both ordered freshly cut bread with various amounts of vegetables and only one slice of ham on it.
This was Charles normal meal to make for them every morning, and he always made it with two cups of Earl Grey Tea. He never, not once, asked when they wanted him to make it or how, he just always knew.
He had been cutting the bread into slices with his New Dad's sharpest knife when one of the five cats they had made the mistake of putting her fore-paws on his legs and digging in sharply.
Charles yelped in pain and accidentally cut his finger. But he had barely felt it.
The force of the knife at the time would have been enough to cut his finger completely off, but when he looked at it in surprise, there wasn't even a mark.

And in the publishing archives, an old, never used machine that had only been turned on by accident once that day and then turned off without permission lost one of its screw-in nails. Had anyone been there to see it where it fell, they would have seen something very strange: The nail was bleeding like mad.

Thinking nothing of it, Charles finished off making breakfast for his parents and then went on his way into town.
While he was at the movies with his friends, he had been drinking a bit and once the movie had finished he went to the toilet. While he was on the toilet, he thought, just for a moment, that he could hear gears crunching from some-where nearby. There were no machines in the toilet, so what was it?

Whilst in the publishing archives, a worker noticed yellow fluid gushing out of the old machine that smelt just like urine, upon checking the machine, he found popcorn wedged inside of it. He asked the boss what to do and then, from the boss' orders, got rid of the mess carefully.
Charles drove back home, feeling happy and excited, knowing it would soon be time for more paid work at the publishing factory.
That night, after Charles had gone to bed, everyone had been woken up by a strange grinding noise coming from Charles' room. What was bizarre was the fact that, upon checking his room, they found him still asleep with a cat on his stomach.

That night in the publishing archives, a man that had turned the machine on from the boss' orders to get rid of any remaining popcorn from earlier was surprised to find that the machine seemed to be making no grinding noises at all. But he just shrugged this off as peculiar and then closed up the archives for the night. The blood from the nail was now completely covered with ants and, if they could talk, they would have commented on the fact that the machine's 'blood' tasted rather like a human's.

Day Three.
Charles had made sure, the day before, that his work clothes (pure black in colour) were washed and ready for this afternoon's shift. He had another driving lesson today with an experienced teacher. He didn't like learning to drive in a manual car because it involved too much hand and foot work.
But when the time came for the lessons, it was almost as if he had remembered everything there could possibly be important about the driving like a robot. In fact, one would go so far as to say he was TOO perfect for only his third lesson of that week. He had even mastered the reverse park perfectly, something which he had never gotten right in both Manual or Auto cars.
The teacher was excited and said he was ready for his first test for his Next 'P' licence and wanted to organise one as soon as possible.
By the time he arrived back home, it was half an hour before he had to go to work. He quickly got into his work clothes and walked down to the publishers, ready for another shift.

The guillotine for cutting paper suddenly looked too much like a clown and appeared to smile wickedly. The old machine in the archives suddenly grew a human finger in an area where no-one could see it.
"Hey Charles, what's up with your finger? Trying to pretend you're a robot today?"
Charles had been surprised by the remark from his boss when he said hello and then saw the same finger he had thought he cut the other day. It was now looking like it was part of a machine. He tried to pull it off, but that didn't seem to do anything.
When he was out in the main electronic area, he noticed the guillotine was dressed to look like an evil clown and smiled.
"Trying to scare me again with that old legend, eh Frank?" he commented to a co-worker.
"You like it? You know, the best part is the fact that the teeth and everything else do not get in the way of us cutting the paper up. I call him Chewy the Clown. Great huh?"
"Very creepy, Frank." Charles walked away smiling.
"Hey, we ARE working in a horror publishing factory, you know."
Charles started working on the work tickets, still confused about what had happened to his finger. He was sure he hadn't done anything to it.
He worked hard that day until five in the afternoon and then started shutting up the place. That was when he came across the machine in the old archives again.
_________________________
The end coming soon. this one is heaps shorter than the others I've popped up.

well, it is s'posed 2 b based in the future. however, i can't understand what u mean by the characters. could u possibly explain further?

following the advice of a fellow newgrounds person, I have decided to make this one shorter and easier to read.
________________
Chapter Two: The Trees Threatening Trial.
Although he hadn't realised it at the time, his voice could now be understood by everything.
"Strange little thing, isn't it?" The conifer tree questioned his companion.
"That be true, but be thankful we pushed the boat out to it, otherwise it would be sunk like the other two objects from the sky."
"What do you think it is?"
"Well, it ain't a tree, that's for sure. Certainly a curious thing though, look at its' tail. It almost looks like lightning with fur covering it. Do you think it will live, Tursorl?"
"It should, I think it's sleeping or catching its breath." The Conifer named Tursorl answered.

Micklang thought he was imagining things again. He could hear the voices clearly, but he couldn't figure out why the voices were saying things he could understand. Were there other squirrels besides him there?

"I can hear you, whoever or whatever you are. Please come out, I don't want to hurt you. I'm a friend." Micklang announced without turning around.

Tursorl looked at the other trees and then walked forwards to the squirrel.
The thumping of Tursorl's feet startled Micklang and he turned around to see the big tree walking towards him, frightened about how big the conifer's stride was.
Micklang jumped up and hid behind his boat, pointing his stick out at the tree in case he had to fight it.

Tursorl chuckled at the sight of the small squirrel doing this, shaking a few cones off in the process.
"Well now! You're a brave one, brandishing that tough piece of stick at a tree like me, friend. Come now, I don't mean you any harm." Tursorl soothed Micklang, leaning down and extending his hand to the frightened squirrel.

Micklang took a look at the extended branch and made another look at the tree, still surprised at the conifer's huge size.
"You're a tree? But, how is that possible? And how can you understand me?"
"Well, we're speaking our natural languages, my small friend, but some magic makes us able to understand each other. As for how I'm able to walk, t'is pretty much the same reason, though no-tree has ever figured out what it is. Now; young and small creature, tell me, what are you and who are you?"

Micklang came out from behind the boat and bowed gently and slowly.
"I am a squirrel; a tree climber that collects nuts and, usually, doesn't like swimming. My name is Micklang, but you can call me Micky for short."
"Well, young Micky, a squirrel that's a tree-climber and a swimmer, you have quite gifted talents. Would you like to meet my friends?"

Jumping into Tursorl's hand, Micklang replied happily.
"I'd love to, but, tell me sir, what be your name?"
Tursorl chuckled again, wobbling Micklang around in the process.
"No need to call me sir, I'm called Tursorl around here: Tursorl chief of the trees of Faraway Lake. It is good being chief, because the other trees listen closely to my rules and follow them precisely, although, you do have to watch out for the occasional restless one. Ahoy, my fellow trees, this be our new friend Micklang the squirrel, but he'd rather be called Micky, which is fine with me. You can show yourselves now." Tursorl announced.

ok. thanks for the tip. i'll keep it in mind

Finally, after running along the soft grass and past a few trees for a half-hour, Micklang stopped at a river and saw huge woodland looming in front of him.
Jumping into the river, he swam across and struggled onto the other side.
Without looking back, he rushed into the forest and jumped into a comfy pile of leaves.
Freedom! Never again would he enter that strange zoo.
He snuggled up in the leaves and sighed, smiling to himself.
Dozing off silently, he failed to notice two sinister figures watching him from high in the trees. The two figures spread their wings and flew off to tell others of their find.
Micklang was having dreams of another squirrel with a sword pointed at him.
The squirrel wore a belt and his voice was like a mighty king's when he spoke.
"Who are you?" Micklang queried.
"Hear me, young one; you have lots to do and not much time to do so. You must wake up and head for the hole that never ends. Do not let any see you." The strange squirrel explained.
"Why are you telling me this, what are the things I have to do?"
The Squirrel poked his sword at Micklang, trying to wake him up.
"Awake, you are in danger."
Micklang opened his eyes quickly and saw a bird about to attack him.
He rolled over just in time. The bird thudded into the ground and was knocked out, but that was the least of Micklang's worries.
There were more birds coming as he dashed behind a tree and another tried to attack him.
Grabbing a stick, he swung it around to try and fight back, all the time retreating into the forest.
The birds were startled to see Micklang try to fight back; but Micklang didn't care, just as long as it helped him out. Still retreating, he tripped over a log just before a bird managed to grab him in its beak. He was about to roll into a small stream when an angry eagle picked him up by his tail and took him high into the air. They went up slowly, Micklang with his stick swinging around and the eagle trying to get higher. Micklang stabbed the bird in its wing with his stick and then they both started to fall. As the two creatures fell, neither of them realised that they were heading straight for a hole in the ground. Micklang was still struggling with the eagle's powerful claws when they entered the hole. The eagle hit the side of the hole first, stunned, and let go of Micklang.
Micklang found he was free-falling through the hole being hit by the eagles' tail or claws. One time he hung onto the eagle's feathers to avoid being hit by rocks.
Unfortunately, the eagle hit a rock sticking out and twisted around, swinging Micklang underneath in the process again, Micklang slipped and free-fell again.
Micklang, as best as he could, tried to dodge rocks or grit as he fell down the hole, but it wasn't good enough. He saw the rock before he hit it, thinking he could avoid it, but he didn't.
The poor squirrel was knocked out but still falling.
The eagle hit the rock as well and knocked it out because of its weight.
Unknown to either Micklang or the eagle, the hole was getting wider and there was a distant light appearing below.
"Micklang, my friend, you have done well. But you are hurt badly." The Squirrel in Micklang's dream observed.
"I tried to get away from the birds, but an eagle grabbed me and I'm afraid that the eagle could kill me."
"He won't, trust me on that. You found the hole, like I wanted you too. But you must do something else for me before you find out who I am,"
The Squirrel placed its sword into Micklang's paws as he continued.
"Use your weapon to stop yourself from dying. You are almost free, young one,"
Micklang nodded at the squirrel as he tried to wake himself up.
"Good luck, Great warrior." The Squirrel's voice faded as Micklang woke up.
He was still falling with the eagle and boulder right behind him, but he could see that they were no longer in the hole; they were in the sky falling towards the ground at an incredible speed.
Readying himself with his stick, he looked back to see the eagle was still blacked out and the rock was almost catching up with it.
Then he had an idea: Using the stick as a paddle, he slowly came level with the rock and grabbed onto it tightly.
The ground was getting clear now and Micklang gasped at what he saw. Mountains, rivers, woods, oceans and lakes covered the land as far as he could see.
They passed through a bunch of clouds and Micklang closed his eyes to protect them from the wind and rain gathering in the clouds.
When he opened them again, he positioned himself on the rock so he was ready when they landed on the ground.
But they wouldn't land on the ground, because they were heading straight for an enormous lake.
Down on the ground, although there were no creatures or humans there, there was life none the less. Something was moving in a forest near the lake, something that could see the duo falling.
"What in the name of my good mother is that?" A conifer tree queried, apparently talking to nothing.

Chapter Two: The Trees Threatening Trial.
________________
comin' soon!

Harry had placed a note on the table in Crusoe's moment of confusion.
Crusoe looked at it carefully, noting it had been laminated.
"'Dear sir/madam, you are in extreme danger. The locals of Vanuatu have been informed of an evil presence that will come onto our island and start killing the party people. Those that survive the danger are in the most trouble, for we have been informed that the dead will rise from this evil and start killing the living. Therefore we shall give you this warning. Do not go into the water! Don't touch it, don't drink it and don't surf in it. As of nine o'clock today, something evil will infect the ocean water surrounding Vanuatu.' THIS is the note the hotel managers left you, Harry? How do I know it wasn't written by you as a trick?" Crusoe asked.
At that moment, Inspector Ralph came back in and announced that they had gotten the first tape from the camera uploaded onto the computer. Inspector Crusoe left Harry alone in the room to take a look at the video. Ralph and Crusoe walked into a different room where they could see into the room where Harry was, but he couldn't see them. The computer with the film on it was placed in front of the window. The police inspectors sat down and played the film, talking to each other about Harry.
"What do you think? Telling the truth?" Ralph asked.
Crusoe scratched at his chin absentmindedly. "I'm not sure. He sounded REALLY scared to begin with, like he was being chased by something. But when I asked him what was on this note he gave to me, he acted like it was normal to have something awful happen to him and made a smart-aleck comment to me."
Ralph shook his head and chuckled. "Ah, he's a teenager. What did you suspect? They try to find anything to comment rudely on."
"Hold on. Pause it. Here: This is where I want to start looking at this. Why don't you go back and find out more about what happened whilst I watch for any lies in his story." Crusoe suggested, looking at the computer with interest now.
Ralph nodded and left the room.
Crusoe pressed the 'Play' button again and watched the scene take place.
Harry's face was seen on the screen, whispering to the camera.
"Hey, I'm Harry Mclarry. I'm heading to Vanuatu for a month vacation. I've been on this plane for five hours now. It's almost six in the morning. I'm just going to ask a waitress how long it is until the plane lands." Harry stood up and pointed the camera forward to film where he was going.
The camera spotted a waitress and Harry asks the lady his question.
"Half an hour, sir. And please turn your camera off before we land. It can interfere with the technology." The waitress replied.
The camera turns around again as Harry heads back to his seat. He turns the camera to himself again.
"I have to turn this off now. See you on Vanuatu. I think I might go to sleep now."
The camera blinks to another scene where it sees Harry again, except inside a taxi with his friends.
"So, going to the beach party, huh guys? Wish I were going, but I've been called to another place in the meantime, plus of course I've got taxi driving to do and you never get holidays from that." The taxi driver chatted to Harry's group happily. Harry points camera at Sarah and introduces her and his friends.
"Get that camera out of my face, Harry. You know I don't like being filmed." Sarah complains.
"It's not in your face. It's in my hand pointing at you and the other guys."
"You knew what I meant." Sarah brushes back her hair with her hands.
"So, David, still think it was a bad idea to go on this trip? What have you got there?"
Camera zooms onto David's belongings.
"David! Oh, for crying out loud! You've brought your fucking chemistry gear with you? How stupid is THAT? What, you think you might be able to test the punch to see if it's been spiked? Hahaha!"
David pulls bag out of camera view and huffs annoyingly.
"Just remember which one of us convinced the teachers for this break, Harry."
"Sarah's right, Harry. Turn that camera off or I'll smash it!" The boy introduced as Joshua Jones threatens angrily.
The camera is pointed down as Harry replies. "Ok, you don't have to be so finicky."
The camera flickers to another scene within a hotel room.
"Oh, man this is SWEET! I get my own room! This is awesome! Let's have a look. We got a bathroom, toilet, bedroom, TV, a patio that looks out onto the beach, and ... Oh, the piecé de resistancé: would you look at this beauty? My own computer with games and movies plus speaker command! Ah! I could get used to this. And after all those hours on that bloody plane I'd give anything to go to sleep for an hour or so. What time is it?" As Harry is speaking he takes the camera around the room to show each thing.
Just when the camera is moving back to the bed, it stops at the door to show a maid standing there about to knock, taken by surprise.
"Oh, hello. Sorry, do you want me to stop filming? I can turn it off if you want." Harry tells the maid.
The maid nods nervously and the camera flashes again to look at a note, the same note that Crusoe was holding.
"Hey wait! Come back! This isn't for me! Come back please! Oh, great! What a way to start a holiday, scared to death by a stupid note from a strange maid. WELL YOU COULD AT LEAST TELL ME PROPERLY WHAT THE DANGER IS!

Ch 1:Meet Harry.
"This is Eagle One, coast guard reporting. Just checking over the coast of Vanuatu for any signs of strange activity."
A pilot of a helicopter radioed in to his base. His job was to scan the coast of any islands near Australia for anything strange or any accidents.
"Affirmative, Eagle One. Do you see anything at the moment?"
The pilot looked around the ocean surrounding Vanuatu.
"Negative, ground base. I might pack up for the ... hold on, there might be something. I can see smoke in the water. Looks like someone's waving a flag. Gonna check it out, over."
As the pilot hovered down closer to the water, he could see a helicopter wrecked in the middle of the ocean, somehow still just jutting out of the water. On top of the wreckage, waving madly was a young boy wearing a pilots' helmet and holding a camera to his eyes as he waved.
The pilot placed the helicopter in 'auto-pilot', threw a rope down to the boy and waited in eagerness.
"Looks like you could use a bit of help. How did you get all the way out here, mate?" The pilot asked the boy as he helped the teenager get on.
The teenager looked at him without speaking and hopped in the back seat.
"Just get me home, buddy." The boy replied, so seriously the pilot wandered if the boy was scared of something.
"Report Eagle One. What did you find?" Ground base asked the pilot.
The pilot grabbed his radio and took off into the sky.
"I have found a survivor of a helicopter crash, ground base." He reported.
"Only the one survivor?"
For the second time since meeting the pilot, the boy spoke simply.
"Yes. The only survivor."
The pilot nodded and flew them back to Australia.
Two men were walking along a corridor in a hospital, about to interrogate a teenage boy who had been brought in from a helicopter crash.
They didn't know much about the boy, but they knew one thing about him:
He was the only survivor of a helicopter crash.
As they walked, one of the men started talking into a tape, the other not taking any notice.
"This is Inspector Crusoe of the N.S.W government police, I am about to record a session with a survivor of a helicopter crash which took place just twenty kilometers off the shore of Vanuatu. The time is now four in the afternoon. The date is Monday the 2nd of January 2015. The survivor's identity is unknown, the case unsolved. But I hope to change all of that upon interviewing the survivor." They both walked into the room at the same time, seeing the witness sitting down for the first time.
The boy had blonde, surfer-like hair and wore a shirt that had a skull on it in green, casting an eerie light in the room.
He wore a necklace that had dolphins on it and earrings that matched. His eyes were ocean blue, the eyes of someone who cared for people and animals.
"You must be the survivor. What is your name, sonny?" Inspector Crusoe asked the boy.
"Harry Mclarry. Don't laugh. I HATE it when people laugh at that name."
The inspectors looked at each other and then back at Harry, nodding that they weren't going to laugh.
"So ... what do you remember from your crash? Can you tell me about it?" Inspector Ralph asked, walking around the room as he spoke.
"No." Harry replied blankly.
The inspectors both stared at him.
"No?" They asked, unsure why Harry had answered that way.
Harry pulled a camera out of his bag and placed it on the table beside him, turning it on as he spoke.
"But I can show you." Harry turned the camera around so that the small screen was facing the inspectors.
Inspector Ralph picked the camera up and pressed the 'rewind' button, remarking on the length of the tape.
"18 hours? Seems a little long, doesn't it?"
"I WAS there for a whole year, inspector. I filmed the whole thing. Every day. I've even got secondary tapes and batteries with the footage on them." Harry replied.
Inspector Ralph stood up again, taking the video camera with him.
"I'll get these loaded onto the computer at the station so we can study it carefully. You okay with him, Crusoe?" He asked his partner.
"He should be no trouble." Crusoe replied.
Once Ralph left the room, Crusoe turned back to Harry, who was just staring into thin air, whispering something.
"What's that, Harry? What are you saying?" He asked the surfer.
Harry looked at Crusoe with sharp, scared, eyes.
"It's not over. It'll be back. It's gonna come for me, you'll see. Whatever that thing was, it doesn't like survivors." Harry spoke almost mesmerized.
Crusoe stroked his beard carefully.
"What is this 'thing' that you think will come back for you? And where were you for a whole year? Harry, please, this is important, you have to tell me exactly what happened in the crash." Crusoe pleaded seriously.
"You won't believe me, even with the video. And when it comes for me, it'll go for you too! That's what it does. It'll never stop. I couldn't stop it, even though I tried." Harry replied, coldly.
"Tell me, Harry. I promise I'll try to listen to you carefully. Just start with what happened before you got into the helicopter." Crusoe suggested.
Harry rubbed his hair in annoyance.
"I need protection, inspector. I'm not safe. Interview me if you must, but please grant me safety. Promise me that." Harry pleaded.
Crusoe nodded.
Harry scratched his neck and then started telling the story as he remembered it.
"It all begun last year, yesterday of last year. I had just left home and moved in with my friends in University, and we were all excited about going on our month holiday to Vanuatu. There was me, my good buddies Joshua and Quentin Jones, my girlfriend Sarah and the geek of the lot, whom I owe my life to, David Elliot. We had everything packed and were going on the plane to Vanuatu. We caught a taxi to the airport with all our bags and hurried in, only to find that our flight was scheduled to leave in half an hour.
'I was sitting in the airport, filming myself as I waited for my friends to return from the toilets. I was telling the camera who I was, what I was about to do and where I was going. Our group caught up with me and we hopped onto the plane when it was time to go. I fell to sleep in my seat almost immediately.
The next morning we made our way to the hotel once off the plane, being told where our rooms were and when the party was.
They were having a big, surf party that would start at half-past eight and go on into the night time. It was said that exactly one million people were taking part of it, including the locals.
I was assigned a room all to myself, with a bed, bathroom, toilet; the whole deal.
It was then I got a knock on the door by the room service maid. She handed me a note addressed to me, told me to enjoy the party while I could, and that she and the other maids and butlers were going to be off duty for the rest of the day, for the big party. I was filming all of this, by the way.
When I opened the note, it explained the situation and location of the party on one side, but as I flicked it away I noticed there was writing on the other side too. I decided to film what I read, and my spine turned to ice at what I read, literally.'
"What did the note say?" Crusoe interrupted.
Harry was now in the police station sitting with his feet on a table in an interview and with his hands crossed behind his head as he recalled the story. Crusoe had got Harry out of the hospital once the doctors knew that Harry was fine, and brought him to the station whilst Harry was telling his story.Harry looked at Crusoe and smiled slightly.
"Boy, Inspector. You really are blind!" He exclaimed cheekily.
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Enjoy this one guys. this is shit scary. it will continue on later

proper formatting? how do u mean?

ok. thnx for the info, mate.
yeah, guess I should have made it more interesting.

hope everyone likes these. it's a long book, so there will b tons more.

A tail to remember
A mother and her son sat near a fire in the woods one night, the boy shivering because he wasn't close enough to the heat.
"Come and sit by the fire, my son. It's a very cold night." The mother beckoned.
The boy shuffled over and warmed his hands on the fire.
"Mum, is it true that your mother discovered another world?" The boy asked.
"Well, it's odd that you should mention that, because that's the reason I brought you out into the forest tonight. I will tell you the story of my mother and her friends she found, and when I am finished, you may ask whatever questions you want to. But listen carefully, because it's a long story, and I want you to soak in every word."
The boy sighed.
"Ok, mum."
The mother retrieved a big book from her back-pack and opened it up.
"Her story begins, not in her home, but in her old workplace, while she was working."
As she started reading, stars sparkled in the sky and all was quiet in the forest. It was like all the wildlife of the wood wanted to hear the story-teller as well.
Chapter One: The Electric Escape.
'Micklang appeared to be an ordinary red squirrel that lived in a large, very well protected zoo in London. But the squirrel was not ordinary on the inside.
Unlike other squirrels, Micklang had emotions that got him out of trouble in the zoo. Fear was the first emotion he had discovered, when he had almost been killed by a piece of shattered glass thrown at him from strange beings called people. Sadness was another, and disgust was the third, which he used heaps, especially when it came to being fed. He hated the strange round things the 'zoo-keepers' gave to him for food.
Also unlike other squirrels, Micklang could swim for large distances. He could achieve this because there was a pond that separated him from the on-lookers; he would swim through the pond to get food that people were trying to give to him. Not that it was much better than the round things the zoo -keepers gave him, but he had to live on something.
Another thing; and this is the very last difference; was that he had a small, but distinguishable, white point on his tail which caused tons of fake rumours among the visitors to the zoo.
He had spent four years in this prison called a 'zoo', never able to escape and always struggling to survive. He couldn't remember his life before being captured, but he knew he had lived for ten years, and today he was going to try to escape for the final time; he just prayed he was successful.
"Attention all visitors, the zoo will be closing in five minutes, please make your way to the exit as soon as possible." A static voice boomed through over-head speakers.
People of all ages zigzagged through the zoo, trying to find the fastest way out.
Micklang watched them from his small, sad excuse of a tree stump and sighed sadly.
"Today's the day, alright. I can't take anymore of this." He told himself.
A young, inexperienced zoo-keeper named Annie came in and poured water into Micklang's bowl, feeling bored the whole time. Micklang crept down silently from the 'stump' and landed behind the zoo-keeper. Then he sneaked past the woman as the food bowl was being filled.
He dashed out the door in one swift leap from the ground and swept down the path.
"This is it! Don't give up! Keep going. They haven't seen you yet." He encouraged himself.
Even though there were still some people hanging around, none of them saw him dash down the path because he kept to the shadows of other enclosures, jumping out when no-one was near.
"That's it. Dodge, weave, and keep to the shadows as much as possible; maybe try hiding in those bushes in the middle of the path. Keep going, you can do it!"
At one point he had to hide in a bush and wait for some people to cross a bridge which divided him from the fence around the zoo.
Once he saw there were no more people near the fence or on the bridge, he zoomed down the path, over the bridge, past some more enclosures and leapt up onto the fence.
"Squirrel! Squirrel!" A small voice cried, unexpectantly.
Micklang looked back to see a small boy pointing up at him in excitement.
He saw with relief that the child was alone and was not trying to get the attention of his parents because the cry was too quiet.
Micklang knew he couldn't talk to the child and tell the boy to be quiet, so he put a paw to his mouth signalling the boy to be quiet; something Micklang had been taught to do by the zoo-keepers.
The child repeated the sign and nodded happily.
"You escapee, Squirrel, I won't tell mummy 'bout you, me promise." The child vowed.
Micklang nodded and continued to climb.
The boy ran off, still with his finger to his mouth as a sign of silence.
If squirrels could laugh in this world, Micklang would after seeing the little child reunited with his mother.
"Right, that's one problem sorted out. Now to get over this fence and too deserved freedom."
Reaching the top of the fence, Micklang accidentally touched an electric wire without knowing it. He felt a strange sensation course through him and, even though he didn't realize it, his fur and tail had changed from the electricity and he now had grey and black fur and a zigzagged tail that looked like a lightning strike.
Micklang didn't want to stay to find out what it was that caused the strange feeling flowing through him, so he climbed down the other side of the fence and ran along the nice, soft grass.
He turned around to stare at the size of the zoo and was surprised to see how far he had come. He could see the same zoo-keeper that had fed him earlier head up the path to the exit.
More than anything he wanted to free the other animals in the zoo, but he didn't dare go back.
He ran; he didn't care which way or how far; but he just had one thing in mind: get as far away from the zoo as possible.

interesting story... having trouble figuring out whether it is real or not. if it is, that's a sad tale and maybe u should consider praying about it, if it isn't, then well done in doing a gr8, compelling story. I liked it, but it was still sad.