Hey Spike. Hey Far18.
Fate has decided that this week constricts me of my play time and thus forth reduces my time to do some creative writing. So, in the light of trying new things and new ways of collaborating, I would want you to work on this story based on my abnormally imagined introduction (See below).
Cheers, this saves me the guilt of not posting (and hides the fact I was half arsed to finish it).
So don’t blame me, blame my assignment (and my awful, awful procrastination).
The cool breeze from the air-conditioning, was making him tickle with delight and his little sausages buddies from the north coast of West Virginia, was keeping him company. It was somewhat a dysfunctional relationship, as sausages have no evident working body system that could have possibly make them even able to stand vertically.
He checks his teeth in the mirror, it is horribly discolored, his actions of taking drugs that puts him in the constant notion of grinding his teeth is haunting him. He was meant to go to that crown for his back tooth, but he procrastinated, that is why he is in a constant kerfufel, when he should go or not? “Maybe tomorrow”, he thought, “maybe not.” He reconsidered.