Six Word Ping Pong, for anyone who's interested

Thanks to @TheExeCUTEionerUwU69 for the six word story thread, which I will continue to frequent, but I believe we have a new game to play.

Can we write a story six words at a time?

Rules are simple. No more than six words at a time (per “sentence”), grammar flexible, plot and setting to be determined by what we write and how each installment is interpreted, and no post should be penned without reading the preceding posts (I know this could be difficult and tedious as time goes by, but non sequiturs and standalones are what the inspiring thread is for). And please, nothing too close to our current reality. This is a distraction. Thank you.

The next post will be the beginning. Let’s see what our collective imagination has up its sleeve, shall we?

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The world ended, we missed it.

So much trouble, source most mundane.

We never expected what we got.

We lived alongside, catalyst for devolution.

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Then came the moose, spreading fear

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It started with rumors up north.

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Rumors of flesh crazed moose herds.

Fear of invasion for maple syrup.

Then, the trees armed and advanced.

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Not to be trifled with, unless…

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The lumberjack militia wasn’t too hungover.

Last night was the sawdust social.

Maple wine flowed freely all night.

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A massacre, the caribou cried REPENT!

Blood and syrup! Syrup. And. Blood!

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Warm blood syrup for our pancakes!

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The wailing chant swelled and soared.

Rousing lumberjacks from their swarthy mates.

The malevolent treeline inched ever closer.

Moose and caribou sharpened their antlers.

Maple leaves rustled with growing belligerence.

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The lumberjack axes yearned for chop

Good meals await the brave few

Tonight we dine on moose chops

The battle began the air stood

Blood and guts litter the wooded land

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Wolves, eagles feast on the carcasses.

Carrion crows pick clean their bones.

Valkyries carry lumberjack dead to Valhalla.

Mead! Cries Odin. Molson! Cry lumberjacks.

Odin : you guys are white trash.

Lumberjacks : let’s start a tire fire!

Odin : you’re now axe target practice.

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The lumberjacks vilely cursed Odin’s name.

'Twas a less than wise idea.

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See the lumberjacks were merely hipsters.

Flannel was of the finest merino.

Their boots were custom Viberg order.

They used Tree Ranger beard oil.

These poor men were not prepared.

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Prepared to be what you ask?

Prepared to be Viking men ya’know

Pillage and plunder blood and gold

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‘For real, now?’ the hipsters asked.

That was when reality bit hard.

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This is the Ping Pong thread.

Please take non sequiturs over here


The axe bit the hipster’s beard.

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The hipster gets upset and leaves.

He tries to regrow his beard,

But it doesn’t work at all.

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Beard wax clogged pores inhibit growth.

Silent film villain mustaches grow unchecked.

Valkyries ride to vanquish hipster huns.

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“But I can’t die…not yet…

…must…see…new…Wes…Anderson…film…”

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