Multi Participation Story: The grim tale of Broke Leg Road.

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Nostalgiascape
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Multi Participation Story: The grim tale of Broke Leg Road.

Postby Nostalgiascape » Mon May 26, 2014 12:02 pm

Prologue.

Long ago, round about the middle 50's there was a tale in Missouri about an old road located no where near any town. Believe it or not the name of the road was broke leg road. those Brave or stupid enough to walk down broke leg road described it as full of the worst pot holes and covered overhead by looming trees. However upon seeing the two bedroom gray wooden shack with plastic over broken windows and a rusty tin roof, no one ever investigated. No one ever knocked on the rickety door. Although there is a story, and most folks can't verify the validity of the tale; about three 12 year old boys who did in fact knock on the door of that grim gray house down Broke Leg Road.


(Okay, 50's think like people would have back then. Try to be authentic. Not many serial killers were discovered then, and everyone was a bit naïve regarding safety. Try your best to build a beautifully tragic tale.)
Ever have that feeling, in your house all alone in the dark? You've locked up, and tucked in, but sense that someone who doesn't belong there is sneaking along the shadows?
pasban
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Re: Multi Participation Story: The grim tale of Broke Leg Road.

Postby pasban » Mon Mar 16, 2015 3:26 am

Maybe everyone should plan ahead first before actually making a story since it can go just about any direction, and I realize y'all want to make sure that it doesn't go in any silly directions (unless of course, the thread creator intended it to be a randomness story, at least that would be my understanding of it.)
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jadewik
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Re: Multi Participation Story: The grim tale of Broke Leg Road.

Postby jadewik » Mon Mar 23, 2015 8:20 pm

Stanley Crawley was a precious young man. Of all his family members and friends, he had the most schooling. His father was a banker, so he didn't have to work the fields like Jimmy Schondal, who was his best friend. The two were always stickin' together like that bit o' honey bar that stuck to Ms. Studebaker, their fifth grade math teacher, when she fell off the hay ride into a crowd of kids at the George Washington Elementary School harvest festival.

Stanley was actually on his way to visit Jimmy one crisp, Saturday, autumn morning. He pulled his gatsby wool cap down a little further to keep his head warm as he quickly walked to the Schondal farm. Jim was already up and shoveling hay when he got there.

"Oy, Stan. Glad you could help out. Got me hands full this mornin'. Cow needs milkin', but I haven't had the chance yet. Think ya could give that sow a hand?"

"Sure, sure," Stan went into the barn and pulled out a stool and bucket from the corner and went to milk the cow. It wasn't his favorite chore, but Stan knew Jim's folks wouldn't let him go play 'till his chores were done. If only his dad could see him milking a fat sow-- my what he'd say!

"Good mornin', Bessie," he crooned to the cow to soothe her. He wanted to make sure she knew he was there. Sneaking up on a cow was bad business, as Stan had already discovered. It had been hell coming up with a story Stan's father would believe. In the end, they just told him he got too close to the cow. Naturally, this was easier for Stan's father to believe than he'd been kicked while trying to milk. It wasn't really lying if you just left out the details, right?

Stan started milking the cow. The bucket quickly filled. As Stan was just about done, Jim strode over. "Ah, wow. You're gettin' good at that, ya city slicker! I knew you had a bit of farm boy in ya." Stan beamed with pride. "Looks like we'll have some extra cream today. If yer ma wants some, I think I can talk my ma into giving her some."

"Okay. I betcha she'd like that, Jim."

The boys took the milk inside the farmouse, leaving it on the counter for Mrs. Schondal to cook with. "Ma," yelled Jim, "I'm goin' to go to the field with Stan. We're gonna work on our fort."

"Alright. You be back in time for lunch, Jim, and I'll have some sandwiches waitin' for ya boys."

"Thanks, mom!" They hurried out the door and ran almost all the way to their fort.

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