Community Event / Creation Abraka Drabble The Old Official Drabble THIS IS AN EX THREAD IT IS DEADED

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Thanks for hosting Ian. The David Braben AMA was a bit of a surprise to me. It made me forget about the Drabble contest.

As for my bad puns scoring 10, I'd like to point out that when I see people covering their ears wincing in pain at my puns, I like to take them that one point higher than 10.

All my puns go up to eleven ;)
 
Shot For Shot

It had become a ritual, a private ceremony between him and the bartender. Each kill toasted with a shot of bourbon. 6400 shots later and all it meant was more young pups coming after him, eager to boast that they’d taken down an ‘Elite’. They never did, never got close. So he took his shot and tried not to think of their blood on his hands.

One day the ceremony would stop, and it would be a different pilot on this stool. Someone younger and faster on the stick. But not today.

He set the glass down and ordered another.
 

Sir.Tj

The Moderator who shall not be Blamed....
Volunteer Moderator
Updated the 1st post witht he latest poll.

Good luck everyone. :cool:
 

Philip Coutts

Volunteer Moderator
Flashheart's Big One! Woof Woof!

I make no apologies for my use of one of Rik Mayalls classic characters. I probably should apologise for the quality of the drabble though.....



Flashheart hated ceremonies of any sort and this one promised to be the most crushingly dull he had ever attended. Another medal to be pinned on his heroic chest for services to the Empire, it was almost too easy.

The Emperors daughter sashayed over to Flashheart and whispered something into his ear, something naughty, perverted and unrepeatable.

A wicked grin spread across his face “Well I never!” Leered Flashheart “Woof and indeed woof again!”

Flashheart finally appeared on stage to receive his award looking somewhat shambolic but incredibly smug.

“This is a big one” he roared “Am I right ladies…….!!!”
 
A Dedicated Brotherhood

Our path is a dangerous one. Space is a fickle mistress that is quick to punish.

We can only nurture our own destiny so far.

But as we edged out into the galaxy the connectivity between us started to fade.

So began our ceremony of messages to celebrate the path we tread. Messages bringing updates and news of those who were still alive.

But time passes fast and we are getting fewer and fewer.

Space feels no guilt towards the deaths it has and will bring to our brothers.

Who is this group?

Those that remain....... are called the Ironmen.
 

Philip Coutts

Volunteer Moderator
Hmmm, it looks like I've broken the Drabble thread, only 3 entries?! :eek:

It can't be that hard, have none of you read "The Dark Wheel"! ;)
 
Burrial

"And so we consign this body to the black."

He flipped a switch and with a clunk the airlock cycled. A new contact appeared on the scanners, cooling rapidly as it drifted off to join the debris of the rings of the unnamed gas giant.

Dax sighed and moved over to the pilot's seat, taking another swig from a bulb of slash. Why did he have to pick the crazy ones? He glanced across to the empty copilot's seat, the blood still congealing on it. It was going to be a long, lonely trip home, but a blessedly quiet one.
 
If nobody else has offered to don the spangly jacket, I'll be the master of ceremonies for this week's Drabbles. That should ensure I can get my entry in at the last minute, if I manage to think of one <sigh>.
 
Okay! I got one. Not as good as the others here but at least I got my 100 words in.

That's bad news for the rest of you contestants that haven't got theirs in yet. The poll goes up on Thursday night.

Put down that joystick and pick up that quill. Get writing! Surely you can do better than my effort...



Gordon is a Moron

Joan sat wordlessly on the front pew staring at the altar. The evidence of tears long since cried were on her face. The wedding party were getting restless, Strumming their fingers and checking their watches.

There's the scream of a landing Fer-De-Lance from outside and Gordon runs in. He pants breathlessly "I'm sorry I'm so late but I couldn't leave the commodities market. It was the deal of a lifetime. Just look at our joint account!" He passes a display over to his distraught bride.

Joan dashes the display to the floor and cries "I don't want this 'sorry' money!"
 

Ian Phillips

Volunteer Moderator
Dinner with the Captain

He tugged the corners of his jacket, straightening the ruffles out. Glancing round he saw that his wife had emerged from the dressing room, clad in voluminous baggy trousers that imitated the style of a dress whilst still being practical in zero-G.

She attached mag-boot slip-overs that matched her outfit and, looking up, smiled.

"I'm ready. First night, dinner with the Captian is always such a ceremony"

Making their way to the Beluga's main dining room they waited for the usher.

He opened the door, triggering spotlights and music.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain and her husband. Please be seated"
 
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