wallcrawler
01-16-2007, 4:34 PM
Hiya Pal :)
Hope the New Year is finding you well, friend. I came back from a little vacation to find much of the website here reset over the last few weeks. Thought I might have missed anything pertaining to Pressmendown.
The last word I recall reading had to do with an outline you were writing for Part 17. If it's still in the works, I have another nasty suggestion to consider for poor ol' Alan. The more suffering he endures, the more I like the story!
I've already beaten this horse to death with him being in such a sorry state...paralyzed, and cemented in a tomb on top of that. A pair of crushed nuts. An allergic reaction to the cement would have his skin crawling, while he can do nothing but lay still. Not to mention his claustrophobia. And how he was blinded (and terrified of that), you wrote brilliantly a few chapters earlier. With just his nose out of the ground, that brings his torture to an all time high...being forced to smell their feet (particularly his wife and her new girlfriend playing with his nose while making out). How frustrating and humiliating on top of that, knowing they have all his money!
But before he's entombed, perhaps the entire staff of hotties at Pressmandown could have contributed to the nastiest of concoctions he'll be sucking on for the rest of his life. Say, the staff of 342 women all had pedicures. That's a sizable mound of 3420 clippings, ready to be emptied into his mouth. And if they scraped underneath their nails beforehand, that is one huge nasty pile of gunk...from between their toes too. First, cram his mouth with a pair of nasty, funky, sweaty wollen socks they all wore (making sure his tongue is waiting immoble in the center)...then dump the rest in on top of it and all around. That way, he can't swallow that sh*t and the nails will be painfully gouging his tongue and cheeks. Tape his mouth closed and there you have it.
It would be fun for the girls to hear those faint muffled moans and groans, through all the gunk in his mouth and under the cement floor while he smells their feet.
Ack! I've gone and rambled on and on and on! Just suggestions, Ste. Anything to help you get your pen moving. Look forward to hearing from you!
wallcrawler
Hope the New Year is finding you well, friend. I came back from a little vacation to find much of the website here reset over the last few weeks. Thought I might have missed anything pertaining to Pressmendown.
The last word I recall reading had to do with an outline you were writing for Part 17. If it's still in the works, I have another nasty suggestion to consider for poor ol' Alan. The more suffering he endures, the more I like the story!
I've already beaten this horse to death with him being in such a sorry state...paralyzed, and cemented in a tomb on top of that. A pair of crushed nuts. An allergic reaction to the cement would have his skin crawling, while he can do nothing but lay still. Not to mention his claustrophobia. And how he was blinded (and terrified of that), you wrote brilliantly a few chapters earlier. With just his nose out of the ground, that brings his torture to an all time high...being forced to smell their feet (particularly his wife and her new girlfriend playing with his nose while making out). How frustrating and humiliating on top of that, knowing they have all his money!
But before he's entombed, perhaps the entire staff of hotties at Pressmandown could have contributed to the nastiest of concoctions he'll be sucking on for the rest of his life. Say, the staff of 342 women all had pedicures. That's a sizable mound of 3420 clippings, ready to be emptied into his mouth. And if they scraped underneath their nails beforehand, that is one huge nasty pile of gunk...from between their toes too. First, cram his mouth with a pair of nasty, funky, sweaty wollen socks they all wore (making sure his tongue is waiting immoble in the center)...then dump the rest in on top of it and all around. That way, he can't swallow that sh*t and the nails will be painfully gouging his tongue and cheeks. Tape his mouth closed and there you have it.
It would be fun for the girls to hear those faint muffled moans and groans, through all the gunk in his mouth and under the cement floor while he smells their feet.
Ack! I've gone and rambled on and on and on! Just suggestions, Ste. Anything to help you get your pen moving. Look forward to hearing from you!
wallcrawler