Eleventh Annual Writing.com Celebration!

The party was in full swing. The StoryMaster and The StoryMistress had rented out the High Towers Hotel’s Grand Ballroom in New York for the Eleventh Annual Writing.com Celebratory Extravaganza. Everyone was invited. Storm Machine arrived, riding her panda. "It's actually a robotic panda, from the future. They're even more endangered then, darlings!"

Joe Nelson showed up with his date, Lady Fostercrab. "She's a vivacious mage I conjured up from the past for the event. She'll dissolve upon the witching hour, returning home, but that doesn't make her any less enchanting."

Among the rest of the invitees was TheGary and his mysterious companion whom insisted on being called Tesser Act. Later, he confided into Storm Machine that she was a product of his imagination, pulled from the pages of his unabridged novel, Lady of Hearts, Masters of Sorrow, Joys of Mind, Kittens of Tomorrow. Publication was pending.

As the party shifted into full-swing, the guests were becoming drunk off the metaphors that permeated the atmosphere like grains of sand in a desert of salt. “That's a simile!” shouted SophyBells , which drew out a laugh that could choke a dolphin. “Now that’s a metaphor!” More laughter came in waves and droves, making the whole hotel shake as if on heels.

Than Pence started a round of Add Three Words. The group managed to write the most ridiculous of stories. “Once, there was – fourteen rainbow bunnies – from the land – of the Whopper. – They ate wild – tomatoes shaped like – antelopes, which only – confused neighboring antelopes – into thinking the – High Towers Hotel! – smelled like cheese. – One bunny bought – a pair of – babies from China! – She named them – Garbanzo and Chair. – They like jelly.” The robotic panda had included the part about jelly, much to the chagrin of Storm Machine . The story carried on and on, until it was discovered that elizjohn was the president of the world, that China was really a trampoline in the back of a minivan, and the ghosts of past Republicans had managed to get the cheese smell out of the High Towers Hotel after all.

Guests began to dance while comparing stories of the past to stories yet to come. The robotic panda was recharging in the corner when Lady Fostercrab began investigating it. She'd never seen such a creature, let alone a robotic variant. Joe Nelson arrived before Lady Fostercrab could cast a decent spell and reminded her that she really didn't have much time left in the present. “I will stop when I'm ready!” she squeaked while poking the panda.

The robotic bear yelped.

Joe Nelson and Lady Fostercrab both yelled, drawing Storm Machine 's attention. “What're you doing to the panda?” Just then, the mouth unhinged and out rolled Storm Machine ! She was slightly older and the present Storm Machine nearly fainted. “I'm sorry, darlings, but I had to return to this gathering. I just remember it was so much fun the first time around!” Storm Machine the Younger shrugged and everyone began to dance.

At midnight, Lady Fostercrab gave Joe Nelson a firm kiss and dissolved into the past. Tesser Act began folding in on herself like a piece of paper in a book, until she too vanished. Storm Machine the Elder climbed back into her robotic panda, bidding everyone adieu. Storm Machine the Younger gave the panda a hug before it returned to the future that bore it.

But the party was far from over. High Towers Hotel of New York never closes and The StoryMaster and The StoryMistress are all about having a grand time! They played mad libs – Than Pence always had the sharpest, wittiest pieces - and they played spin the bottle, which didn't go as planned. The bottle kept pointing back at darkin. She had charmed the bottle with her magic, or charisma, or both. Either way, she got a lot of kisses, some she didn't really want.

When the party ended, everyone went to their rooms to sleep off the excitement, the wonder, and the awe that was inspired by the Eleventh Annual Writing.com Extravaganza. It did happen to inspire some terrific stories, which Than Pence was happy to record.



Word Count: 664