Exquisite Corpse: Viva Streets
A couple Sundays ago the city of Austin shut down two miles of 6th for Viva Streets, and we invited folks to stop by and play some Exquisite Corpse. Below are the results. (To see “Figure One,” click to enlarge the photo below.)
It was a dark and stormy night. Cynthia tossed and turned to the sounds of the thunder, and her border collie Max–usually a heavy sleeper–paced back and forth at the foot of the bed.
In the way that frogs know the humidity will soon plummet and cranes sense the onset of the Northern Lights, so did Max know that something was heading for the cabin. His mistress slumbered, but Max heard … shufflings. Slouchings. Snufflings. And, between thunderclaps, a strange whirr.
Cynthia stumbled out of bed and tripped on Max’s favorite toy, tumbling to the floor. Then she was sent to the hospital. After many tests they put her to sleep. Then she died. She came back as a zombie.
Cynthia woke up from that horrible dream. She opened the windows to a beautiful sight. No more thunder, just a breeze. Time to go for a nice walk toward the Argentinian Festival.
Unfortunately Cynthia never reached the festival because seven man-eating, fire-breathing hipsters stopped her under the I-35 underpass. They said they would only let her pass if she told them about YouTube. There is a secret formula out on YouTube that will break the spell that was cast on them so that the seven could once again return to being benevolent. They needed Cynthia to get the secret for them before they would eat her.
And then the giant spiders came. And they brought a big birthday cake with them. It was chocolate, with sprinkles and seven candles, her favorite. But it said “Happy Birthday Zachary.” She was confused. Who was this for? But wait, then Pokemon came running up. The spiders ate Pokemon. Oh my gosh, no Pokemon! Cynthia weeped at the sight of the dead Pokemon.
The End, for now.
Act Two
Zombie Cynthia woke to find that she, in her insatiable zombie hunger, had eaten the spiders that had eaten Pokemon. She was just licking her fingers when a tall man approached her. “My name is Zachary,” he said. Zachary was over six feet tall, with dark hair and yellow skin. “I need to ask you a favor, Cynthia,” he said. “Today when the sun goes down, you need to take this package and open the envelope taped to the top. Inside the envelope you will find directions to a car parked. Open the door as if the mystery of the universe awaits you. When you open the door, the voice of Charles Bukowski will be drowned out by the unearthly pounding sounds of ‘Good Times, Bad Times.'”
A zeppelin crashed through the clouds.
Which was piloted by Max, the Wonder Dog, super duper border collie. He was on a secret mission, so secret that he didn’t know what he was in search for. He was dressed in a pimped-out collar which said “The Miz.” He turned his head and saw another zeppelin headed directly toward him! He quickly jumped on a steam-powered skateboard and engaged wings and glided towards East Austin.
So he looked back, he saw the two zeppelins collide in a giant ball of flame, lighting up the night sky over Town Lake.
[Figure 1. Max narrowly avoids disaster.]
Haha, that’s hysterical. Of particular note are the underpass hipsters and the mystery of the universe including Bukowski and Led Zep.
You guys should take this to Twitter. I bet a very interesting story would develop, one 140-character post at a time. See also: Jennifer Egan’s Twitter story, “Black Box,” which inspired the first-ever sci-fi issue of The New Yorker: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/05/jennifer-egan-black-box.html
You know, I was immediately turned off by that Egan thing. I don’t have a valid reason why, I suppose. But hey, who said I need a reason?
We talked about a TwitterCorpse (yeah), but it might get chaotic. Multiple people simultaneously building on a sentence would make it fork off into too many directions. We could assign an order, I guess. But that might suck a lot of the fun.
(Which is what Twitter is meant to do?)