Jokes & Humor - New story game

Hi,
one new rule to add to the Old Rules...
1) 3 sentence min.

Harry opened his eyes. Things looked wrong. That's not right, they looked nice.
But this definitely wasn't Kansas. In fact, the colors, the shape of the windows,
it could be Morocco. The last thing Harry remembered was a party in Cleveland.
It wasn't even a very good party. He got up, and looked out the window onto an
interior courtyard. Yeah, this could really be Morocco. "OK. Weirdness later, coffee now". Throwing on his clothers, he stepped out the door of his room. As soon as he did, a person he could only think of as Moroccan stepped towards him and said...

Good day sir, I trust that you had a pleasant journey and a good rest. Here is your coffee sir, I will have your morning meal for you in the courtyard in half an hour. Afterwards You are to see...

The Sultan of Abu-Alia. Our countries have an important treaty to discuss: The Treaty of Ashkabad. The Sultan will explain all the details to you, but until then you must . . .

You must learn our customs. Come, let us have our traditional coffee
and we will talk of life. You must be surprised to be here.
This was at the request of one of our Princes. You know him as Ed.
He is Prince Nayef, and there are those among the inner court that call
him wilful. I am not one of those, but I was instructed to, how do you say it, bring you up to speed.

Meanwhile, behind the wall, Princess Sulima was watching the men. She wanted to join them in their lively political discussions, but as a woman in old Morocco, she was forbidden to have contact with unrelated men. All she could do was wait and watch and hope that a change would come soon.

The Princess stared at the guest, who she found vaguely familiar, but she could'n t recall from where nor when she might have seen him. It was Harry's face, a large man with a high forehead and prominent brows, almost neanderthal she thought. The more she examined him the more interesting he seemed, she had a sense that this man was going to have a major impact on her. The feeling was not of pleasure, or of excitement, but one of unease, as if this was going to be.......

. . . a test of her commitment to her culture, her way of life. She had a sense that she needed to find out more about him and to learn why he seemed so familiar, but she knew that to do that could jeopardize everything that was dear to her. Sulima knew that she must be very careful. She was constantly being watched, especially by her older brother, Ahmmad, who . . .

realized he had sided on the wrong side with the American war on Iraq.
Sulima wasn't quite sure if she hadn't met that man earlier in a UNESCO
conference

, but she knew that those questions, and hopefully, many other questions that were running through her mind would become clear as the next two days unfolded. She watched as the two men in the courtyard finished up their breakfast, stood and walked together, still engaged in a lively, and relaxed discussion while walking in the direction of the Sultan's business offices. Sulima watched as the men walked beyond her view, she tuned to lean against the wall to think, when she saw another guest arrive and walk across the courtyard......

It was Mohammed, the man who her father wanted her to marry. Sulima knew that even though she didn't like Mohammed or find him attractive, she could not go against the wishes of her family. She was not yet strong enough to rebel against all that she knew. She could only hope that the days until her wedding would go by slowly. Until then, though, she could dream . . .

of a life of her own choosing, where her own will and desires determined the course. As she looked again at the courtyard, and Mohammed, he was not walking in the direction of the business offices, but instead he was walking briskly toward the residence of the Sultan's female attendants. Playing with fire, she thought to herself, perhaps someday Mohammed would disappear from her world as quickly and quietly as Harry had disappeared from the party in Cleveland, she could only hope, however, Mohammed's destination provided more hope than she had held before this day.

She watched with disgust as Mohammed entered the rooms that should have been off-limits to him, and she had an idea. She ran quickly to where her father was having his morning tea. She knocked on the door, then entered quietly. Her father looked up, saw his favorite child, and said happily, "Sulima! Come in, darling. What can I do for you?"

"Father, . . .

"Who is that I hear in the shower"? She crept towards the bathroom and out stepped Andrea naked and glistening..

i find it stupid that i have started a neverending story game with 170 replies and then someone comes in a starts a new just so that they can have more words in each reply. the reason there is a 20 or 25(i can't remember) word max is so that each sentence takes an interesting twist because generally, 2-3 people making up one sentence might not all have the same idea. so tying them together makes it funny. but when you make like 3 sentences per post, the story get pulled too far in one direction.

OK flaming, I took out the "The End" from my post over on your thread, it's good to go again, can we still have this one too? thanks man!

OK flaming, I took out the "The End" from my post over on your thread, it's good to go again, can we still have this one too? thanks man!

why was it ended?

hi565

I think because Andrea stepped out from the shower glistening, and realized that There is nothing wrong with sora. But it is back in business over there, and we'd kind of like to continue this new story too, if that's OK. TSWRA

Awww, man! It was just getting good (before the shower scene...)

Andrea, who was the chief agent from TSWRA, retreated back to her shower, and called Agent Balzhoff on her soap phone. "We at TSWRA, also known as . . .

..The Society With Rash on our Asses, have devised a plan to cause severe chafing and itching amogst our mortal enemies, the notorious...

a notorious plan to return to my story. Sulima had not intended to meet the American. Harry had not intended anything, but knew he was in it for the duration. And Dad's whole purpose in life was to hold the family together against the the cultural influences which threatened to tear it apart. What disturbed him the most was that he could no longer tell whether the threat was greater from outside the Islamic world, or from within. Inside he knew, but it was a difficult thing to admit, and he never would.
He knew this young American had been chosen to find a path for his country. He trusted Nayef, but this seemed madness. He knew nothing.

...and I mean, nothing would return the story to it's former glory. But Selima knew there was humour hiding beneath her modest, burkha-clad exterior. Or was it just a rash from riding her last century charity ride, or worse, could it be....?