Guest Posts Galore!
Assalaam Alaikum all. As is the rule of guest posts, i shall be putting up the post graciously written by Abez without editing (even if there are any spelling mistakes, but then again she's an english teacher so bah to that!) or even reading it for that matter. I shall read it once its on.. which will be in the next 5...4...3...2...1
"A lone car rolled silently up the street, passing unnoticed through the streets of Somewhere, UK. Unbeknownst to all, there sat within it- Usman. Yes, Usman, the usual suspect of such crimes as a recent heist where the thief lowered himself in from the ceiling of the Queen’s Private Baskin Robbins and made off with three of her most precious flavors- Kohinoor Krunch, Beefeater Brownie Fudge and Mind the Gap Grape Sorbet. But Usman was only suspected, never caught, never convicted, he always had bulletproof alibis.
“Me? Steal the Queen’s Ice Cream?” he snorted contemptuously at the Scotland Yard, “Don’t be absurd! I have a hundred witnesses to say that I was hundred miles from the scene of the crime!” The constable glinted through a suspicious eye and said, “Oh yeah? And what was ye doing a hundred miles from the crime with one hundred of yer friends?” Usman turned and said dismissively, “Oh, a hundred different things...”
The car slowed now, and Usman stepped out. He gave his watch a cursory glance and then stepped briskly in the direction of his office. Upon entering, he found the lobby looking as it usually did, opulent, polished, oozing class from the leather sofas to the faux fur ashtrays. He turned to the receptionist, Sahar, and said, “Any calls for me Miss Sahar?” Sahar looked up, and then promptly died. Usman rubbed his chin and said, “Hmm, third time this week.” Then he stepped into his private elevator.
Once inside the privacy of his office, he opened his laptop and began planning his next heist. It wouldn’t be long, he thought to himself, it wouldn’t be long till he could afford what he had long been dreaming of...all the crime and all the burglary would pay off one day, and on that glorious day, Usman would finally be able to open his very own Ice Cream Island. He was preparing for that momentous day by stealing the finest flavors from all over the world.
From the American president's own private freezer, he had stolen three gallons of Perfidious Pretzel Ice Cream, and an entire case of freedom toast squares to make Sundaes with. From Spain he had burgled ‘Stachio of Seville, and from China he pilfered Great Wall of Walnuts. His private cache of flavors was steadily growing, he almost had the thirty-one he so desperately needed.
He placed satellite calls to his various co-conspirators daily, Sana, Yasmine, Aniraz, Tora, Raeesa, Otty, and many others. They all contribute to the elaborate thefts, some work to cover the electronic tracks he made, others store the ice cream, still others scope out potential flavors and relayed their findings to him.
Suddenly, the screen on his laptop flickered and a familiar face appeared via satellite link up. It was Bond, James Bond, and he sat bobbing his head to the theme music coming from his mobile phone before he realized he was already online. “Oh!,” he said suddenly, dropping his mobile phone. “There you are Usman! I know what you’re up to! The M-16 or 15 or M-whatever, we're on to you!”
Skip to a few hours later in the story and gloss over a very exciting car chase scene and then an elaborately choreographed fight scene, like the Matrix + Crouching Tiger + Cats and Dogs. Trust me, it’s really thrilling, ok?
Anyway. Usman has been mortally wounded...Shady..I mean...James Bond as well as the other members of the M-whatever organization thingie have given Usman a paper cut, and now Usman is dying alone on the top of a sky scraper. Just as he thinks all hope is lost and his dreams of Ice Cream Island will never be fulfilled, and chopped appears above him and lowers a rope ladder. He jumps and catches it with one hand, and he flies off into the sunset dangling from the chopper above the picturesque skyline of Somewhere, UK.
WHen the chopper finally lands, Usman struggles to stand (the paper cut is really stinging at this point) and he says, “Whoever you are, I owe you my life. I offer you 50% of my Ice Cream Island.” The person in the chopper does not turn around, he only laughs quietly. “Who, who are you?” Usman says nervously.
The man turns around and grins, and says, “I am Kaiser Sozay! Bwahahaaa!”
The End.
(My apologies if I left anyone out, or if you don’t know who Kaiser Sozay is. It has to do with the movie, The Usual Suspects. Howzat for a guest post, eh? -Abez) "
Assalaam Alaikum all. As is the rule of guest posts, i shall be putting up the post graciously written by Abez without editing (even if there are any spelling mistakes, but then again she's an english teacher so bah to that!) or even reading it for that matter. I shall read it once its on.. which will be in the next 5...4...3...2...1
"A lone car rolled silently up the street, passing unnoticed through the streets of Somewhere, UK. Unbeknownst to all, there sat within it- Usman. Yes, Usman, the usual suspect of such crimes as a recent heist where the thief lowered himself in from the ceiling of the Queen’s Private Baskin Robbins and made off with three of her most precious flavors- Kohinoor Krunch, Beefeater Brownie Fudge and Mind the Gap Grape Sorbet. But Usman was only suspected, never caught, never convicted, he always had bulletproof alibis.
“Me? Steal the Queen’s Ice Cream?” he snorted contemptuously at the Scotland Yard, “Don’t be absurd! I have a hundred witnesses to say that I was hundred miles from the scene of the crime!” The constable glinted through a suspicious eye and said, “Oh yeah? And what was ye doing a hundred miles from the crime with one hundred of yer friends?” Usman turned and said dismissively, “Oh, a hundred different things...”
The car slowed now, and Usman stepped out. He gave his watch a cursory glance and then stepped briskly in the direction of his office. Upon entering, he found the lobby looking as it usually did, opulent, polished, oozing class from the leather sofas to the faux fur ashtrays. He turned to the receptionist, Sahar, and said, “Any calls for me Miss Sahar?” Sahar looked up, and then promptly died. Usman rubbed his chin and said, “Hmm, third time this week.” Then he stepped into his private elevator.
Once inside the privacy of his office, he opened his laptop and began planning his next heist. It wouldn’t be long, he thought to himself, it wouldn’t be long till he could afford what he had long been dreaming of...all the crime and all the burglary would pay off one day, and on that glorious day, Usman would finally be able to open his very own Ice Cream Island. He was preparing for that momentous day by stealing the finest flavors from all over the world.
From the American president's own private freezer, he had stolen three gallons of Perfidious Pretzel Ice Cream, and an entire case of freedom toast squares to make Sundaes with. From Spain he had burgled ‘Stachio of Seville, and from China he pilfered Great Wall of Walnuts. His private cache of flavors was steadily growing, he almost had the thirty-one he so desperately needed.
He placed satellite calls to his various co-conspirators daily, Sana, Yasmine, Aniraz, Tora, Raeesa, Otty, and many others. They all contribute to the elaborate thefts, some work to cover the electronic tracks he made, others store the ice cream, still others scope out potential flavors and relayed their findings to him.
Suddenly, the screen on his laptop flickered and a familiar face appeared via satellite link up. It was Bond, James Bond, and he sat bobbing his head to the theme music coming from his mobile phone before he realized he was already online. “Oh!,” he said suddenly, dropping his mobile phone. “There you are Usman! I know what you’re up to! The M-16 or 15 or M-whatever, we're on to you!”
Skip to a few hours later in the story and gloss over a very exciting car chase scene and then an elaborately choreographed fight scene, like the Matrix + Crouching Tiger + Cats and Dogs. Trust me, it’s really thrilling, ok?
Anyway. Usman has been mortally wounded...Shady..I mean...James Bond as well as the other members of the M-whatever organization thingie have given Usman a paper cut, and now Usman is dying alone on the top of a sky scraper. Just as he thinks all hope is lost and his dreams of Ice Cream Island will never be fulfilled, and chopped appears above him and lowers a rope ladder. He jumps and catches it with one hand, and he flies off into the sunset dangling from the chopper above the picturesque skyline of Somewhere, UK.
WHen the chopper finally lands, Usman struggles to stand (the paper cut is really stinging at this point) and he says, “Whoever you are, I owe you my life. I offer you 50% of my Ice Cream Island.” The person in the chopper does not turn around, he only laughs quietly. “Who, who are you?” Usman says nervously.
The man turns around and grins, and says, “I am Kaiser Sozay! Bwahahaaa!”
The End.
(My apologies if I left anyone out, or if you don’t know who Kaiser Sozay is. It has to do with the movie, The Usual Suspects. Howzat for a guest post, eh? -Abez) "
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