posted on Feb, 6 2019 @ 02:06 PM
-Hey look honey: there's another new writin contest on ATS.
-Oh really? Are you onna pretend to have all kinds of awesome ideas, then never assemble and finalize them?
-Probably, and thanks...
-So what's it about?
-Sprin.
-Sprin what?
-Dunno. Just sprin.
-Ohhh! Maybe it's about fresh-water sprins, like the one up towards Leaky-Pass?
-Maybe... (Starts writin).
-Remember the last time we stopped there to fill our water bottles, when we saw the fellow with the two aliens in the backseat of his Lincoln
convertible?
-Yeah... What about him? (Writin furiously now).
-Well it turns out he's the Sheriff in the neihborin county, and the brother-in-law of our Sheriff Prattle. Some other fella saw them as well, and
reported it to the newspaper. The next day: the story was nowhere to be found, and the journalist and the witness seem to have disappeared as
well.
-You don't say. (Furiously erasin).
-Oh: maybe it's about natural hot-sprins, like the ones we sat-in on our visit to Iceland?
-Maybe... (Starts writin).
-Remember we were sittin in the hot-sprin, with that nice Russian lady, what was her name: Svetlana? Oh: and those two old Swiss fellows with their
constant murmurin?
-Yeah... What about her and them? (Writin furiously now).
-Well: I made contact with her via facetrick, and she was writin a story about what she overheard the old Swiss uys talkin about, somethin about the
BIS, and the EU?
-Yeah, yeah... What about it? (Writin furiously).
-Well she was postin about how she had written to RT about what she had overheard the old Swiss uys talkin about, then her posts disappeared,
and she just went silent for a few days.
Next thin ya know: it was one of her friends writin on her profile that she had died from some kind of food poisonin, or somethin.
-You don't say. (Furiously erasin).
-Oh: maybe it's about those so called 'blade' sprins, worn by that Paralympic champion, Oscar Pistorius?
-Maybe... (Slowly starts writin).
-Didn't he even compete with elite able-bodied athletes, all the way to the Olympics?
-Yeah, yeah, yeah... How did that work-out? (Writin furiously).
-Well: he murdered his irlfriend, and now he's in jail.
-Holy shmitdz! (Erasin writin).
-Oh: maybe it's about those coiled metal sprins, like they have in pens, or on cars, or all around trampolines?
-Maybe... (Starts writin).
-Do you know when when the best time for trampoline jumpin is?
-No... (Pauses writin).
-Sprintime! Ha-ha-ha!
-Oh boy! (Erasin writin).
-Oh! Sprintime! Maybe it's about the comin of Sprin?
-Hey! Now you're talkin! (Starts writin enthusiastically).
-Did you prepare the car for sprin?
-What? The car? Honey we have a solid two months of winter left. (Pauses writin).
-Then why would they be talkin about sprintime?
-Not sure that they are? (Twirlin pencil).
-Well: in different parts of the world: sprin comes earlier, so some, like ardeners, might already be keenly into it? Orderin seeds? Plannin?
-Yeah, yeah, yeah... What makes ardeners most exited about for sprintime? (Writin furiously once more).
-Well: one ardener was so excited, that he wet his plants... Ha-ha-ha!
-Snap! (Breaks pencil).
-So dear: what were you writin about?
-Nothin...
gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
The end.
(Non-writer status).