The Write Your Worst Challenge!

So, we got tagged by the fabulous Saraina Whitney to do her Write Your Worst Challenge! In all honesty, this has been sitting in the drafts for like almost 3 weeks…lol…but we’re finally posting it!

Oh, also, in case you didn’t notice or notice some sort of weird formatting somewhere, we’re reworking the site and making it look nicer. So we went with a basic background and colors for the script and such. We think it adds a touch more legitness (pretty sure that’s not a word) to the site. Though we do need a new group photo because the current one is kinda blurry…on the to-do list…lol…

Anyway, bear with us as we slowly make the adjustments. Kayti is doing most of the design work, so between writing and working and life, she doesn’t get much done at a time.

The Rules

1. Link back to the creator of the tag, Saraina Whitney
2. Include the tag graphic in your post
3. Thank the blogger who tagged you and link back to their blog
4. Display the rules in your post
5. In a thousand words or less, do your best to create the most poorly-written story you can. Indulge in cheesiness, stiff or overly flowery prose, poor grammar, and cliche premises to your heart’s content.
6. Break all the writing rules you want
7. Keep it clean, of course; do not take “worst” to mean morally so
8. Though you can make fun of cliches you hate, do stay respectful of other’s opinions
9. Tag any bloggers you’re dying to see try this, or leave an open nomination!
10. You can repeat the challenge however many times you want

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Once upon a horrid summer, a boy decided that life was very unextraordinary. So much so that all the adventures he had had had had no fun involved until he met Michelle, that is. 

Now, Michelle, on the other hand, thought life was very extraordinary indeed and had had lots of amazing adventures, at least things she considered amazing adventures that is. 

Now, let me tell you what those adventures were. You would like to know, would you not? 

It all started on the thirteenth day of August, in the year twenty-sixteen. Really, it all began way before that, but that is when Otis first noticed it (Otis being the boy I mentioned previously). 

It was another hot and muggy day in the summer sun’s heat. Grass withered where it stood, and trees drooped under the scorching heat of the southern sun.  The bugs were thick, the humidity even thicker, indeed the humidity was so thick one could almost see it and could most certainly feel its weight like a wet blanket as soon as they stepped foot outdoors. 

Otis was on his way to the park, Mannings Park to be precise, and he was very vexed, quite in a bad humor. You see, his mother made him go out on days like today when all he really wanted was to curl up with a good book in front of the air conditioning while sipping a glass of southern sweet tea. But his mother said she did not wish to have a lazy son and so Otis was outside wading through the thick humid air on his way to a park he didn’t even wish to visit for nothing interesting was there. 

You see, Mannings Park was for…well, old people. Walking trails and pickleball quarts, but nothing for those wishing to just swing or lark about for a bit. It was a place of silence and solitude, and Otis got plenty of that at home. 

He made his way to the middle of the long bridge over the wide, rushing river and stared down into the murky brown waters. Then, low and behold, something bumped into him from behind and sent him straight toward the murky waters below and though he was hot, he did not wish to go for a swim but a swim he did get. 

He splashed into the lukewarm water and thanked God that the bridge wasn’t that high and the water was deep enough he didn’t break a bone. He surfaced and sputtered as he made his way to the bank before turning a scathing glare to the girl standing on the bank, laughing as if it was the greatest joke of all time. 

“I’m sorry, but you looked so funny as you fell. Waving your arms as if you would take flight.” The girl (if you haven’t guessed this is indeed, Michelle) waved her arms and laughed some more. 

Otis shook the water from his dripping hair and wrung out his soaked clothes. “Did you bump me on purpose?” 

The girl smirked. “Why would I do that? And if I did, what would you do?” 

Otis huffed. “If you did, I would tell you that I hated you most ardently and that I would never consider being friends with a girl like you!” 

“Tis a good thing I don’t want to be friends with a boy like you then.” The girl tipped her chin up and then laughed again as she extended her hand. “The name is Michelle, Michelle Harving, by the way.” 

Otis glared at the extended hand and hugged his arms to his shivering body. “Otis. I still don’t want to be friends; you’ve greatly vexed me.” 

“Otis is a stupid name,” Michelle said, giving her brown hair a flip. “I for sure thought you’d be a Harry, being black headed and all.” 

“What does my hair color have to do with anything? You’re a very interesting girl, I’d say you’re not right in the head if I didn’t know better.” Otis said with a huff. 

“Which you don’t,” Michelle said, flashing a smile. “I could be out of my mind, and you wouldn’t have the slightest clue. But that doesn’t really matter, I like you and therefore you shall be my man in waiting, my partner in adventures.” 

“What?” 

“Oi, are you deaf? I’m not saying it again. You’re going to come with me as I explore the world. We’ll go on all sorts of adventures and have all kinds of larks. What say you, Otis?” Michelle smiled again and raised her eyebrows. 

“I don’t think you’re listening to me,” Otis said with an annoyed groan. “I hate you!” 

Michelle merely laughed. “I know, and that’s why you’re the perfect person to adventure with me. Come, tis time to leave we cannot tarry here any longer.” 

As you can imagine, Otis ended up going with Michelle and they had many wild adventures and many more scraps with death, as you can imagine Otis hated it all and complained almost constantly. But Michelle never tired of her companion and in his heart, Otis quite enjoyed himself. Even though he would never admit it to Michelle, or to anyone else in fact. 

So, as it turns out, this story is more about how those adventures started and, indeed, not about said adventures.

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And that’s a wrap, folks! Was it the worst story ever? We actually quite enjoyed ourselves…lol…we secretly love old-style writing and wish it was still an approved version of writing, but alas, tis showing, not telling for us.

So, what have y’all been up to? Anything fun? Let us know your thoughts about this post in the comments below! And since pretty much all our friends have been tagged for this one, anyone who would like to do it, go for it!

Yours in Stories and Dreams!

Hooroo!
Sisters Three