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"Doctor", Parody of "Starman"Another lonely night in Leadworth by myself
Nothing to do, I was bored you know ow ow
This crack was scarin' me, something bout Prisoner Zero it said
Then a loud sound, then a man (not ginger)
Made me cook him up custard and fish fingers
That weren't no policeman, this was something much more weird
There's a Time Lord waiting in the sky
He's coming down to meet us
But I think he'll blow our minds
There's a Doctor waiting in the sky
He took me on his spaceship
Said he'd need me for a while
He tells me:
"I've heard children crying
To save them all I'm trying
And just this once, not lying."
He took me up and showed me everything ing ing
Left my fiancée and engagement ring ing ing
Met up with Van Gogh and with Winston Churchill too
I got pregnant, had a baby girl irl irl
She grew up and was then feared by every world orld orld
She was my best friend too, now tell me, is that not right?
So I'm Amy, floating through the sky
Then Rory came to meet us
But he always seems to die
So we're h
Watched by a godA god sat on his throne of clouds and observed the world beneath him. This was one of his least favourite planets, a pathetic little blob of green and blue in an old-fashioned section of the universe. He didn't know why he'd chosen to watch them, barely paying attention, the way they watched their televisions.
The inhabitants had named it Earth, but it was known by a much more offensive name in ethereal circles.
The natives here, a mostly sapient race called humans, had messed up. Many planets had races that had failed, but few had failed as dramatically as the humans. While other cultures explored the limits of knowledge and scientific advancement, humans had apparently given up, inventing instead a billion and one ways to amuse themselves without achieving anything worthwhile.
The slacker species of the universe a species predisposed to play.
Last time the god had watched here, the humans had just worked out exactly what gravity was and how it worked. It was hardly a mystery b
Xanthic LightAlice and Edward stepped closer together, examining one another in the streetlight. Both of them had aged since they'd last seen one another and looked curiously the same but so different.
"Can you believe it's been fifteen years?" Edward said, raising his hand to stroke Alice's hair.
"Don't," she said. "Edward, please don't do this."
"Fifteen years," he said again. "Great Scott, you can't tell me that the feelings aren't still there, even after all this time." He begged her to agree with him.
"I can't," she said, refusing to look at him now he was so close. Just run, she thought. Kicking herself inside, she wondered why she had agreed to see him. Love didn't fade, even after all this time.
"Maybe I should just go," she said.
"No," he said, firmly. "Oh please, don't go. Please, I made such a mistake when I left you. Queen of my heart, forever and a day." Roaring cars passed them on the bridge, a few of them wondering who the two people were chatting over the water. She wished she had j
Deceased - IIIDying hurts, and don't let anyone tell you any different. People bang on about how, "Oh, he died peacefully in his sleep" and shit like that but don't believe a word of it. OK, my death was violent anyway nothing prepares you for being catapulted through a windscreen but I've spoken to people up here who've died in their sleep and apparently it's no less painful. It's something to do with the soul having to be ripped from the body "ripped" being the key word here.
On the whole though, once you've gone through that, it's actually quite peaceful. I thought I'd be worrying non-stop about the people I've left behind but as it turns out, I'm not. That's not to sound selfish, it's just that once I'm up here, there's nothing I can do about them. Well, OK, so I can help one person, but you don't get any choice in the matter.
Everyone's a guardian angel up here, see. You die, you cover someone's back until the time they're destined to die, making sure they don't pop it firs
Painter - IIWith Josh gone, I don't know what to do anymore. I know we were together for just eleven months, but it felt so right. I guess it always feels right at the beginning if it didn't, you wouldn't press on. Art is my final class of the day but I'm not really with it. We're supposed to be painting the still life in front of us a mish-mash of fabrics, fruit, stuffed birds and the top half of a mannequin but my mind isn't on it. Everyone has made some progress but I still have a pure white canvas staring back at me.
I pick up a paintbrush and continue to think about Josh. It's been a week now. I had a few days off school for it but because I'm not family or anything, I can't get compassionate leave or anything. I've just got to press on. It's hard to think of him laughing and joking now I've seen him with his blood and brains smeared across the front of his car. My leg still twinges a bit from where it was caught under the dashboard, but it's not severely damaged.
Grapevine - IYou'll never guess what I heard! No, wait, I mean it! I shouldn't even really be gossiping about it but I had to tell someone. Do you remember Pete? You know, Pete thingy? The one who was going out with Tina but they broke up when she slept with his brother? You must remember! Think back, it was huge news like, last month. No, two months ago. I don't know. Yeah?
No, well anyway, you remember his mate Duncan? Oh you must know! You'd know him if you saw him he's the one who got really wasted at Anne's eighteenth? Jumped on the table and declared himself King of the Lesbians? Long hair? Anyway, never mind him, it's his brother, Josh. You have to remember Josh! That's right, the one who spent last Hallowe'en making eyes at you and your pumpkin costume. Totally hot.
Anyway, yeah, you'll never guess what happened! He was out driving with his girlfriend Becky you must know Becky and anyway, what they're saying is that he swerved to avoid a deer and crashed and he's dead.
I wake up.I wake up.
I'm on a dark desert highway and I don't remember how I got here. There are a few stars in the sky but no moon and not enough light to guide me. I reach into my pockets and pull out a torch, but with nothing for the light to bounce off, I cannot tell how far I am from anything.
I begin to walk, and I walk for several hours, or maybe days, or maybe just a couple of minutes. I arrive at a house with lights burning from every window. I knock on the door and the wood sounds like metal. There is a clank and a clang and the door opens slightly.
An old woman's face looks out at me. She screams something in a language I don't understand and I feel a bullet lodge itself in my lung. I choke and I wake up
I'm leaning against a set of lockers in my school corridor and I don't remember how I got here. It's after hours, still light outside but the school is empty. I walk down the corridor, which seems longer than I remember. It takes an hour to reach the door at the end. It's locked
Letter To The Future21st July 2010
To Whom It May Concern:
If you have found this letter, congratulations. I am writing this in the year 2010 and hopefully, nuclear war permitting, it will have reached you in the year 2110. The language I am writing in is English which, while I assume will still be a dominant language in one hundred years time, may have been killed off by the Chinese.
2110 sounds so futuristic, but once upon a time 2010 sounded like that, yet here I am. It's weird to think that this year is now history to you, the way we look back at 1910 and think they were a bit backwards. You probably think that about us.
It's 41 years since humans first landed on the moon (unless that has since proved to be a hoax) and we've currently no signs of heading into space again. They keep talking about it, but there's nothing happening. I hope we're on the moon by the time you read this. Hopefully you've got to Mars by now. Maybe you're reading this on Mars!
Are there aliens yet? The closest we get is Doctor
Excerpt: 2117The first noise I heard in one hundred years was a gentle hiss. I felt dizzy and realised that I was lying on cool marble table wearing only shorts. There was a mask over my mouth, feeding me oxygen. I turned my head gently to the side and noticed that the mask was connected to a tube, which fed down into a small glass dome. Inside the dome was what appeared to be a bonsai rainforest.
What I presumed to be a clock was on the wall just above it, although it was hard to tell. It had no hands but instead four circles of various sizes were in place beneath the numbers, one of them ticking with what I presumed were seconds. One was moving too fast to be properly seen.
The hissing continued, very faintly. I wanted to sit up but I quickly realised that my wrists and ankles were fastened to the table, although I could feel no fastening at all. It was almost like I'd been magnetised and stuck to the fridge.
I heard a door open and someone entered the room, and at the same time, the oxygen mask
A Vampire's WarningI really want to eat you,
you truly ought to know.
So think of this-before we kiss...
...under the mistletoe.
You think it's about romance,
but I just need some lunch.
I smell your blood-in dismal flood...
...so please go drink some punch.
It's best if you avoid me,
no matter what I say.
Your mortal bliss-you'll surely miss...
...if we take things my way.
I'm functioning on empty,
and kinda like a car.
So low on fumes-I live in tombs...
...if you should flee, run far.
This party's for the festive,
I lean towards mad-macabre.
I lurk in screens-and piercing screams...
...necrosis is my job.
I'd tell you all I'm thinking,
but you're already dead.
You chose my mouth-your heart went South...
...and now I have been fed.
Incompetence: A Half-Baked Tale
She disappears in a puff of smoke and leaves me standing there
In a dress of the palest gossamer, with fancy curling hair.
I take a step—my slippers pinch—“Oh dear, they’re slightly small―”
But the coachman interrupts me: “Come! We cannot miss the ball!”
He grins at me with buck teeth as he stands by the carriage door;
I climb inside; my slippers sink in the spongy, slippery floor.
The seat is slightly sticky, leaving pumpkin on my palms,
But the coachman cries, “Hooray! We’re off!” and waves excited arms.
The carriage starts with a painful lurch and soon we’re rolling fast;
I close my eyes and pray it holds together to the last.
My hair is shaken loose; I bump my head, my hand, my knee,
And I wonder if that fairy passed her Magic Arts degree.
Along we jump and jerk and jolt; I’m flung from side to side;
The carriage comes to a screeching halt to end our breakneck ride.
The Rational LoverYou say we should elope today
But I really think we should delay
You've listed all the thing we'll do
But I'm not sure you've thought it through
We'll run away and live in a village
In a Merry England thatched-roof cottage
I'll work as a farm-boy, you as a milk-maid,
And build our nest on the little we're paid
We'll soon look owt but out of town
In this world of green and brown
We'll build our life upon this whim
And take our chances, no matter how slim
Now, I'd just love to run away with you
As stereotypical lovers do
But as it is, life's got other plans
For employment's little also-rans
There's the interview for a part-time job
So your father doesn't think I'm a slob
Not to mention the doctor's appointment
And I've got to pay the rent
Eloping now sounds such a dare
But I have, although I do not care,
An essay due next week
You must think this is meek
If we stay in town things'll work out fine
And reason sides with this plan of mine
Running away isn't a good idea
So actually, let's st
I don't pay attention to the newsUkraine’s in the news lately, I’m only familiar with Nestor Makhno
I’ve no idea how that’s pronounced so just assume it rhymes with snow
Which is also something I imagine Ukraine has quite a bit of?
Just like those other countries that where the people’s names end in “ov”
So anyway on to the Ukraine and something called Maidan
I didn’t know Ukraine had a lot of fans of Iron Maiden
Now apparently Russia has moved into the Ukraine east and taken over
Which surprised me, since on my map they had it all as well as Moldova
Though know I come to think of it
I don’t think Germany is still split
Between Westen und Ost
And Yugoslavia now appears lost
And according to google maps there’s now a New Mexico hey?
Why its enough to make you scratch yer head and say “Que”?
AllergiesThere once was a little bumble bee
Who had a bad pollen allergy.
When he tried to do his job
He would sneeze and say with a sob
“Pass the tissues, I need three!”
No PasaranThe working class of the city of Barcelona
Rose up in 36 and took with them Catalonia
With clubs and guns
Kicked out priests and nuns
And sent the bourgeois running like they do in Pamplona
There's one in every AsylumNapoleon the first was one of the finest minds of the martial sort
His tactical innovation captured him cities and all types of fort
The poor sod were self-hating
And clearly overcompensating
No matter how high he rose, he always was a little short
Don't Pick Your NoseThere once was a boy who picked he nose
And picked the slime between his toes.
All the girls thought him gross and left him alone
So the boy grew old all on his own
And kept wiping the slime on all his clothes.
ghost writer needed...my poems are crap
i ain't so good
i'd wanna change that fact
if i could only could
i can't pick no good words
i got bad timing
other people is way better
i don't do good rhymer
i will keep practising
maybe i'll do some gooder
if i have wrote one someday
i will upload from a computer or something
Ode to Magikarp
Magikarp with fins so white
Yellow crown, face froze in fright
On the end of every fishing rod
And for evolution, thou are most odd
In battle you are detrimental
You cause great losses, drives us mental
But reach a level past nineteen
And you're a wonder to be seen
For Gyarados, your new name is
In battle, a much stronger fizz
But every trainer stoops to beg
Why can't Gyarados alone come from the egg?
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More