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Day 0This pe
Chatterbox: Pudding's Place
Day 0This pe
Day 0
This person might consider themselves to be an ordinary person, but today the life they have always lived might take a turn for the extraordinary. On May 15, a day like any other, this person picks up the mail. There are the usual ads, a letter from a family member, and- what's this? A letter addressed to the person but with no return address? Curious, this person thinks. Tearing open the envelope, the person reads the letter.
Dear Reader,
If you have received this letter, you have been invited to the greatest ski lodge party ever to occur. We would be very pleased if you would attend. We shall begin on July 15, giving you two months to RSVP. We shall be very sad if you cannot attend. Come, come! Join in our celebration. We have but a few rules:
- In the past, a couple of murderers have seemed to sneak into the lodge and murdered everyone. If you're a murderer, stay away, unless your name is Melody, Red, or BHR.
- It's all fun and games here. No matter what happens, everything shall be silly and fun.
- If you have no idea what I'm going on about, you can read the rules to any of the past ski lodge adventures (the top comment on Pudding's Place should be one). If you do, ignore this and keep reading.
- A new day is usually posted in the morning by me. Every day, a new installment in the story occurs.
- You're very welcome to write your point of view of the day (why most people don't is a mystery to me!) but please wait for me to put the day up first.
- Logic sometimes gets tossed out the window. Nobody needs that stuff!
- I do not pick who lives and dies- my immortal companion, the Sugarbowl, carries your names and I randomly draw them out.
- If you ask me to put a really long, narcissistic, name into the Sugarbowl (*cough cough Melody cough cough*)- Excuse me, I seem to have come down with a bit of a cold. As I was saying- if you do ask me to put such a long name in, I will ignore you and probably tease you about it for the rest of your life. Don't think I won't.
- I tend to make fun of people a lot (*cough cough Melody cough cough*). My goodness, that really is a very persistent cold! Please don't take it personally. Also, I am sure I will mess up someone's gender. Don't take that personally either. I botch personalities and tend to make a general mess of things. Moral of the story: Don't take anything here personally. If I mess with you, it means I like you.
- What a hypocrite- "but a few rules", my foot.
- I always feel like this section is hard to write. Eh, if you don't get things, read another rule page, or ask me questions.
We look forward to your participation. Please come join the show.
-The Omnipotent Narrator
The Sugarbowl is waking up... It is time to choose your own adventure. Will you come join?
submitted by T.O.N.
(May 15, 2014 - 5:35 pm)
(May 15, 2014 - 5:35 pm)
Dear Silveny,
Well, FEP is dead. The rest of us ain't far behind. AAANNNDDD we all gonna die.
Ellie has been contriving to keep all spears, javelins, or any other sharped-tipped objects away from me, though I have my resources. I, along with Melody, threatened Red to tell us who the murderer is, though he is annoyingly persistantly silent. He just kept that sarcastic, chesire-cat grin on his face the whole time.
In other news, I secretly smuggled my Barbie doll guillotine, so I'll have something to keep me and any other spectators, maybe Ivy, occupied. I'm also planning some... pranks.
Ehehehe!
(July 19, 2014 - 2:08 pm)
For the record, I don't know who the murderer is. I only work on the comedy, so attacking me will do you no good.
(July 19, 2014 - 5:12 pm)
Barbie doll guilliotine? That sounds...fantastic. *dark giggle*
(July 19, 2014 - 6:06 pm)
~Moss's View Point of the Ski Lodge in the Numbered Days So Far
Well, I must say, it seems like the past few days here have been a rush! I love the Kyra Kave Melody and I share, since it has everything we love. You know, awesome Disney stuff like The Lion King and for me, Doctor Who. There is also a Scar plush hanging above me on the bottom bunk, quite scary. I'm sure it has twitched a few times. It especially twitched when it sensed the giant rabbit, which was even creepier. Seriously, where did Mr. Bunnicula come from? Everything else a blur, really. When poor FEP died, I called there should be a seance. *sniffles* She had such a short life and I didn't know her well in the past few days... Now I'm frantically searching who the murderer could be. For all I know, it could be me. My vision keeps getting blurred at unusual points and I forget small things from the days before. How strange. I'm sure it's nothing, though. Maybe that Scar is somehow behind this, but what do I know? It could be the fluffy Dalek I brought. Not such a good idea...
(July 19, 2014 - 2:56 pm)
Day 5
True!-nervous-very, very deadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? I have witnessed more than you could ever imagine and it is my painful duty to inform you that our dear friend John will nevermore quoth again.
Ellie: Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit-
Mag Fan: Your best suit is a pair of pajamas?
Ellie: Be quiet, you.
WW: That's a brilliant inspiration! I vote we spend the rest of the day as a pajama party!
Corina: Is that-
Bounty: Could it mean-
BHR: Pillow fights?!
Watermelon: I challenge you, Blu!
Blu: I'm not going to lose to you, madam!
Violet: Anyone want waffles? ... No? More for me, anyway.
Nina: Violet, you sly dog! Going to eat all the breakfast without us? Let's get her!
S.E.: REDWAAAALLLL!
Surprise, surprise, maple syrup and pillows mix about as well as, say, die-hard Marvel fans and die-hard DC comics fans. What would have to be done would be... laundry.
Joe: One-two-three, nose goes!
And thus Alice, who sneezed at a very inopportune moment, was stuck in the laundry room.
Alice: Those turlingdromes! Stick me in the laundry room, why don't they. Why can't I be up there exploding things too is what I want to know.
JLM: Oh, I can take care of it for you. Go upstairs and have fun.
Alice: ... I'm not one to question good fortune, but weren't you slightly... dead? Yesterday?
JLM: Well, that was yesterday.
Alice: ... Good enough!
Back in the main lodge...
Melody: Behold my Darkwing Duck pajamas! Daring duck of mystery, champion of right! Swoops out of the shadows, Darkwing owns the night!
Maggie: Hey, I found some dance music!
Zach: Prepare to hear "Don't Stop Believing" at least ten times in a row.
Red: Conga line!
Melody: Somewhere some villain schemes, but his number's up!
FQ: Conga, conga, con-GA!
Ivy: Conga, conga, con-GA!
Melody: 3-2-1, Darkwing Duck! When there's trouble you call DW!
Teresa: Let me just say the "Domino Effect" is really not fun if you're in a conga line.
Bookbug: All right, who tripped us?!
SPF: Not me.
Katie: We're going to get you, SPF!
Melody: Darkwing Duck! Let's get dangerous!
Jack: If someone stabs JLM when she's carrying pillow cases, does that mean that you have to put the pillow cases away?
Theo: Yup. You stab it, you bought it.
Melody: Darkwing Duck! Darkwing, Darkwing, Darkwing Duck!
Johnny had been standing a little away from the chaos of the pajama party... if only because he was awfully thirsty. Someone slipped next to him. "Do you want grape juice? I found a bottle in the pantry." "Sure," John replied and followed the other skier into the dark pantry. "Where is it?" he asked. "In the back. Go back farther, go back farther." If only it wasn't so dark in there! John walked back, fingertips brushing the wall, until his hand hit a brick wall. It must have been the back of the fireplace. Suddenly, the wall seemed to spin around. Panicking, John found himself trapped in a very, very small space, somewhere between the fireplace in the living room and the pantry. "For the love of God, Montresor!" he cried. The answer came softly back to him. "Yes," the voice replied, "for the love of God."
Max: Say, has anyone seen John recently?
Madeline: I can't get up and look! I must sit on SPF until justice has been served!
SPF: I said I was sorry!
Madeline: Sorry is not enough for knocking a conga line over!
Moss: Yeah, where is he? Should we go looking for him, guys?
Reed was the unlucky person to discover the small, oxygen-less room behind the fireplace. Unfortunatly, it was too late for John to be rescued. While the rest of the pajama party was called off in respect for John F.Q., it was not considered entirely a wash, as Melody could only go through the Darkwing Duck theme song seventeen and a half times.
Rest in peace, John F.Q. Rest in peace.
(July 19, 2014 - 4:25 pm)
O_o
Dance music=Fall Out Boy/Panic! At The Disco/MCR. NOT Journey.
(July 19, 2014 - 5:50 pm)
Such as "Dance Dance" by Fall Out Boy? ;)
(July 19, 2014 - 7:28 pm)
YESSSSS
(July 20, 2014 - 8:27 am)
~Joe's Diary: Day 5~
Someone threw away my concoction, so I guess my vision was a hoax. Maybe the killer broadcasted it into my head to mislead us all. I suppose that the people he hired to enact the scene so he could film it and then broadcast it into my mind did not sign the forms and that's why their faces were tiled out. Or maybe the people looked nothing like any of us and the killer didn't want me too see that.
I am still trying to get ahold of Sherlock Holmes. I've tried Robert Downey Jr, Johnny Lee Miller (no I don't watch Elementary) and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself. Well, actually he's not listed in the phone book. So I had to use snail mail.
The letter I wrote to Mr. Doyle read:
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Croughborough, East Sussex
England, UK
Time-warp delivery to 1890
Dear Sir Conan Doyle,
My name is Joe and I am a skier at a ski lodge in the year 2014 where a lot of my fellow skiers are getting murdered by an unknown killer. I understand you are affiliated with the famous detective Sherlock Holmes, having written a number of great stories about him, and I would like to enlist his help in deducing who the murderer is. Would you please forward this letter to Mr. Holmes? I will set up a quantum time-space dimensional portal so that he may exit 1890 and enter our time so that he may visit us and help solve the mystery. Thank you for your time and assistance, and I wish you the best with your future writing endeavors.
With regards,
Joe the Stickfiddler.
I got the letter back the same day with a "return to sender" stamp and a note handwritten on there that read "There is no way to warp letters back to 1890 you idiot!!!"
So, once again, I shall have to deduce what happened myself. My theory is that John F.Q. was lured into the room in which he was trapped by an alarmingly enticing smell of scented kindling, and then when he went in the killer had a fire set up in the adajacent room into which there was a small opening between the two. Both spaces were airtight, and so the fire burned away the oxygen from both rooms. The killer quickly left the other room while this took place, and obviously shut the door behind him.
But that is very impossible!!! There are no rooms adajacent to the fireplace. I see the floor plan confirming that. So he must have used some kind of device... uh, this is confounding. Never mind.
I give up trying to play Sherlock Holmes.
Now what am I going to do? Oh, I know. I'll set up my new ant farm! With the ants they delivered. I ordered it a couple days ago.
What... I didn't order fire ants! OW!!! I'm going to make an angry phone call to the ant people. And hope that these ants don't kill anyone tomorrow...
(July 19, 2014 - 6:36 pm)
Ah, that pajama party was the best! I wore my Calfanated and Decalfanated PJs. Get it? It has a decalfanated, tired cow on front, and on the back it has a calfanated, hyper cow. Wasn't that hilarious? *cricket, crivket* Ok, I guess not.
We had all been so absorbed in our pillow fight, Zach's astounding "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey (which I had unfortunately missed last month in Bethel Woods) and Melody's Darkwing Duck theme song on a broken record *coughcoughnotreally* that we hadn't noticed John's absence. Not until Max asked and we all looked at each other in fear. He had to be the next one gone. Nobody was gone for that long on our watches. Which, by the way, mine is broken. *crickets chirp* Reed found him behind the fireplace in a few minutes. We soon held his burial. What will FEP's and John's parents think of this? Maybe we could lie to them to ease the pain...
(July 19, 2014 - 6:42 pm)
Wait, was my comment deleted because of anything, or am I incredibly impatient?
I didn't delete a comment from you, Moss.
Admin
(July 19, 2014 - 9:51 pm)
Oh, ok! I guess I was just impatient.
(July 20, 2014 - 7:45 am)
As the weeks of the ski lodge draw to a close, the list of still alive shall be posted...
Blonde Heroines Rule
Ivy
CaptainRead
Theo W.
FantasyQuill
Katie M
SomeonePlusFour
Moss
Teresa
Corina
WritingWarrior
Nina
Maggie
Red
S.E.
~Blue Fairy~
Bookbug
Mag Fan
Zach L.
Jack
Bounty
Watermelon
Melody
Violet
Max
Ellie
Madeline
Alice
Joe the Stickfiddler
(July 20, 2014 - 1:07 pm)
Dude. That's 29 people. And if one person dies per day... are you going to have a huge mass killing on the last day, or have mutiple murderers, or what?
(July 20, 2014 - 2:57 pm)
I assume he's going to kill one person per day. That's how it's always been.
(July 20, 2014 - 3:26 pm)