Day #11594: Story Cubes

(Last Christmas, my friend Suzanna gave me some Story Cubes, and then this Christmas she gave me an expansion pack.  Thanks Zan.  These dice make for a good storytelling game with friends, or can be used as a writing prompt.  So, here’s one I rolled this morning, as an example.  I decided to limit myself to 100 words, which I stuck to, more or less.  The ending is a bit weak, but I’m secretly pleased by how many of the exciting plot devices I managed to make less exciting than they should be.  Feel free to have a crack yourself and post the results in the comments below)

One summer when I was a student, I got a job chopping up unwanted dinosaur bones and disposing of them down an old pirate well*.

I hated it.  They didn’t even provide lunch and my supervisor always spoke to me like I was two feet tall.  So I decided to expose the company’s secrets…

I packed my camera, chemicals for processing photographs, and my raygun (which I didn’t end up needing).  Once I’d taken the pictures I retreated to a tent I planned to use as darkroom.

From the shadows emerged a dwarf.  “Well done, you passed the test…”


*Y’know… pirate wells… course you do.


4 thoughts on “Day #11594: Story Cubes

  1. I often have a look at these Story Cubes and wonder what they’re like. My local Waterstones has them in the bit where you cue to pay, but they’re always that little bit too expensive for an impulse buy. It’s interesting to see them out of the box. They do seem like a good way to give the writing muse a bit of a prod.

    My effort started off fun but took a sinister turn:

    It’s not easy being a dwarf. In the past, people just wanted me to get rid of their warts. If I was in a good mood, I would blast the wart off there and then with my laser gun. If I wasn’t, I’d say the only way to get rid of their warts was to carry a bag of dog poo on a stick around with them for a month.

    These days it’s all pressure. I’ve got a steady job with a travelling freakshow but I still have to moonlight digging up fossils to make ends meet. I’m fed up with people taking photos of me, looking down on me just because I’m different.

    Well, I just can’t take it anymore. So I’ve left a note, packed my rucksack, and poured a vial of poison into the village well. And when the survivors come for me, I’ll have my trusty axe.

  2. Whoops – “queue” to pay, obviously…

    Although when I reach the till and they ask for the money I do tend to turn to the people behind me, wink at them, and declare, “Ah, this is my cue to pay,” in an overly theatrical voice.

  3. Also – kudos on the queue joke. That’s the kind of humour I would like to encourage more people to leave in the comments section.

    Presumably, after you have delivered the “that’s my cue to pay” line, everyone breaks down laughing, at which point you bow ostentatiously and your wig slides from the top of your head, hammering home the joke… everyone collapses and expires with mirth.

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