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Started 6 months ago by Dick Everyman
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Dick Everyman

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An experiment in collaboration. Can the Biscuiteers create an award winning online novel or even an incredible flop? I'll kick off but take it in any direction you want and let's see where we end up. (Note to Harper Collins - advances please to NB's Nice Admin Lady)

Here goes......

Chapter 1

Melrose, Scotland 1933

It was 8pm when Nancy McAllister left her warm tarts to cool on the scrub topped table, there was a knock on the door, "Goodness," she thought "who on earth could that be at this time of night?"

She wiped her hands on her pinafore and headed across the scullery towards the heavy oak door then turned the key with some trepidation....

Posted 6 months ago #
waylandsmithy

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Before she could open the door however, she died of cancer. No-one missed her.

Her house was bulldozed in accordance with her wishes, and her collection of ashes were scattered through neighbouring letterboxes. Nancy herself was eventually buried, and not before time. Her grave is to this day marked with an old car tyre and a strong smell of bovril.

Posted 6 months ago #
godly1966

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And they all lived happily ever after.

Posted 6 months ago #
godly1966

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Sorry I was going to write.
Chapter 1
Melrose, Scotland 1933
It was 8pm when Nancy McAllister left her warm tarts to cool on the scrub topped table, there was a knock on the door, "Goodness," she thought "who on earth could that be at this time of night?"
She wiped her hands on her pinafore and headed across the scullery towards the heavy oak door then turned the key with some trepidation Opened the door. Hello my name is Sven I have come to fix your mangle and then maybe sample one off your lovely warm tarts, said a blonde haired dwarf holding a stepladder and a pot of goose fat.

Posted 6 months ago #
Dick Everyman

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Of course, Sven the dwarf was unaware that he was talking to Nancy's ghost but the strong smell of Bovril drew him into the house....

Posted 6 months ago #
waylandsmithy

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Sven was enraged, having been trampled to his own death by a weighty cow of some heft that failed to notice he was chin-high to an udder. The oxy pungency brought the whole episode flooding back: the stiffened circles of shit, the clod-like hoofing, the fading light as he sank below sod.

There would be hell to pay, if you marked his words. Few did: no-one listens to a short-arse.

Posted 6 months ago #
bonjonelson

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When he had been alive, Sven had been no stranger to controversy. Six-times winner of the "World's Tallest Dwarf" competition, he had been accused by many of using special magnetic bracelets to stretch his legs as he slept. But in death the true nature of the magnets started to reveal itself, as his animated corpse wandered around the kitchen attracting random cutlery which flew off of hooks and embedded in his body.

Posted 6 months ago #
Al OPecia

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People always wondered why Nancy insisted on opening the door with trepidation, rather than using the handle like everybody else.

Posted 6 months ago #
bonjonelson

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Alice, Nancy's replacement, arrived in late 1934. With the house in ruins it seemed an unnecessary extravagance to keep the gardens in such fine condition, so she had the gardener shot.

Posted 6 months ago #
Dick Everyman

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Alice suddenly realised her error as without Jannekin, Nancy's precious Bonsai collection was in danger of turning into a national park. Luckily Gertrude Jeykll was buried in next door's garden "So," she thought, "a Ouija board and a pair of secateurs will do the trick."

Posted 6 months ago #
waylandsmithy

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Death was no stranger to the McAllister clan; Alice had descended from a long line of the deceased. Despite ointments, incantations and numerology based on vegetable consumption, not one of them was still available to play for the village XI. Except in some part for her great great uncle Rosanold: his pickled bladder still featured regularly in the upper batting order, serving as it did as an all-weather ball.

Posted 6 months ago #
bonjonelson

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When he had been alive, Gertrude Jeckyll had been no stranger to controversy. Six-times winner of the "World's Tallest Bonzai" competition, he had been accused by many of using special magnetic bracelets to stretch his trees as he slept.

Posted 6 months ago #
beau-jolly

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But what, you may ask dear reader, became of the warm tarts with their rosy cheeks and heaving bosoms?

Posted 6 months ago #
riesler

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And her buns were a wonder to behold, and to be holding.

Booker prize, here we come...

Posted 6 months ago #
Dick Everyman

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Yes, Gertrude's sex change and Nancy's buns were the stuff of local legend as Sven the dwarf would attest to if he had not been crushed by Daisy. It was now up to Alice to keep up the tradition to save Melrose from becoming the laughing stock of Scotland. With the world shortage of good self raising flour 1935 was certainly going to be a tough year...

Posted 6 months ago #
sigmund

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'But no tougher than the rest of my life,' thought Sven, who had been reading a lot of Camus. ‘There is no point, and meaning is but a bourgeois delusion. I might as well go and kill a stranger’. With that, he...

Posted 6 months ago #
bonjonelson

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pressed the button on his teleport belt and in less than an instant was in Berlin.

Adolf Hitler looked at Sven curiously, the absurdity of an undead dwarf materializing in his inner sanctum temporarily outweighed any possible fear he could have experienced.

Sven used this moment of distraction to charge, and head-butted Adolf in the bollock.

Posted 6 months ago #
The Secret Cabal

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DESPITE THE GLARING CHRONOLOGICAL GAFFE VIZ-A-VIF HITLER BUNKERAGE CIRCA 1933, THE PLUCKY DWARF SEARCHED THE BODY FOR INGREDIENTS. BINGO. NAZI MILLED GOODS OF THE BLEACHED WHITE VARIETY.THE GHOST OF ALICE, FOR THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN HER NAME BUT THE CABAL HAS FAILED TO CHECK, WOULD BE COCK A HOOP.

RETURNING TO HIS OWN PLACE IN THE SPACE-TIME OOGEMAFLAP, DWARFY BUNGED HIS PLUNDERED SACKS AT ALICE. SHE WEPT LIKE ONLY A BREAD-HEAD DEAD RED HEAD COULD: SNORKELLY.

"OCH, PERHAPS I CAN BANG TOGETHER A LOAF OR SO", SHE WHELPERED. NOT FOR NOTHING WAS IT THST SHE HAD ONCE BEEN KNOWN AS 'THE FLOUR OF SCOTLAND'. SADLY, BAP FANS, IT WAS NOT SO MUCH A REFLECTION OF HER BAKING PROWESS, BUT OF HER MONUMENTAL PROBLEM WITH DANDRUFF. NO WONDER SHE WAS HAUNTY: PROCTOR AND GAMBLE WERE YET TO DEVELOP HEAD AND SHOULDERS FOR THE DEAD.

Posted 6 months ago #
bonjonelson

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THE TEMPORAL SHIFTING AND SMELL OF HITLER'S CROTCH WAS fINALLy STaRTing to WEar off and, at at last Sven could type properly again.

Posted 6 months ago #
DustyBinLaden

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"You intrigue me," groaned Hitler, painfully seating himself behind his desk, clutching his groin. "On the one hand, you're a genetic mutation and should be killed. On the other hand, you're blonde and have striking blue eyes. It's times like this that I wonder whether I ever really thought this whole final solution thing through properly. Do you mind if I call my friend Goebbels? He's good on stuff like this."

The Fuhrer reached for the phone. A brief conversation took place, in German, and the Fuhrer hung up.

"He says we should launch you as a mini Aryan at the next conference. Like a full sized Aryan, but smaller. Lighter and more portable but with some exclusive new features, like tumbling and mining. Now, I'll just need a sample of your sperm."

Posted 6 months ago #
dvo4fun

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"err ... no, I'd rather you used a test tube." He added; a small frown passing across the otherwise calm countenance of the man who, in other circumstances, might have scratched a living by selling unremarkable water colours

Posted 6 months ago #
beau-jolly

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Back in the bonny highlands Alice was beginning to gain a deserved reputation for her crusty bloomers. It was something she would need to deal with if she was ever going to start baking again.

Posted 6 months ago #
The All New Jeni B

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...particularly as just a moment ago, she'd lived in the Borders.

Shaking her head slightly to dislodge this bewildering thought, she gently...

Posted 6 months ago #
The Secret Cabal

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LEANED TO PICK A DOFFADILL, AND CHECK HER FAGGOTS WEREN'T BOILING OVER. RELIEF. INTENSE, BLESSED RELIEF: THE FAGGOTS WERE MERELY SIMMERING.

BUT FOR HOW LONG?

Posted 6 months ago #
The All New Jeni B

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Suddenly, her head filled with the sound of a thousand Nazi jack-boots goose-stepping.

Alarmed, she ran to the window, but it was only Sven, with a strange, zealous look in his blue, blue eyes.

Posted 6 months ago #
Dick Everyman

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As Sven peered through the window she quickly checked the ash-filled hour glass, the only relic left from Nancy's bulldozed house to see how her faggots were doing. The huge earthquake that had shifted Melrose from the borders to the Highlands was still sending out shock waves, but the sight of Sven made her....

Posted 6 months ago #
DustyBinLaden

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...want to toss him right there and then.

Posted 6 months ago #
bonjonelson

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Sven had indeed split into Sven and Anti-Sven. Sven was standing in the ruins of Nancy's bulldozed house, where only the still-functioning kitchen and overgrowing bonzai forest reminded him of the house's past glory.

Anti-Sven was in Hitler's office arguing both with Hitler, who wanted his sperm to build a mini-master-race, and with The Secret Cabal, which was a pseudonym for one of his writers, over whether Hitler lived in a bunker in 1934 or not. Anti-Sven tried to point out to the joint creator of the prose that animated him that previous comments had simply mentioned an inner sanctum, which didn't necessarily mean an enormous undergound bunker complex, constructed by Hochtief, the same company that many years later would build the A23 Coulsdon Bypass in Surrey.

Arguing with one's literary masters is never a wise option, and Anti-sven simply disappeared for no adequately explained reason.

Posted 6 months ago #
waylandsmithy

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Sven yearned for a slice of Alice's famed crotch bread, baked with a secret yeast that only flourished in the delicate folds of her ample leg fat. Using a blend of dust, assumed flour and a shake of her unmedicated scalp, Alice's baking had a flavour and odour that was all of its own. Toasted, it reminded Sven fondly of an amateur cremation he'd once attended: hunger always brought back his happiest memories.

Posted 6 months ago #
Al OPecia

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It didn't help that she was foaming at the gash caused by the soda coming into contact with the vinegar she had liberally doused her body with as an alluring scent, for the cogniscenti.

Posted 6 months ago #

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