The Future WorldSetting - 2034 in CanadaCharacters - Gray, Justin, Bruce, Gwen StefaniIt was a cold Canadian Monday morning and Justin and I were snowboarding across the tundra when we stopped at a bar and had some spawgey. We started taking to the bartender named Bruce and he said that he was from Louisiana. We noticed he looked kindof like us. We left the bar and afterwards realized that we needed some doe doe so we started listening to "black eyed peas" on our ipods, and then it hit us. Since we were both awesome dudes we could be Gwen Stefani's body guards and we could possibly chirp at some girls and mabye get our grinds on. Well after we got shut down we went back to the bar "Bruce's Fire House" and drank some cold spawgey. As I talked to Bruce I realized that he was my long lost father that lost meat the Grand Canyon. I told Justin that I found our father and he was like "are you cereal" and i was like "for cereal dude". The EndGray Marston IV
Setting- 30 to 50 years from now in the United States. Most people are fluent in Spanish and English. Teenage slang due to that fact.I hate going to escuel and sit all day listening to teachers hableak. I am in history class right now and my teacher is hableaking in Spanish. She is gorgita, nice, and a pretty buell teacher. After this class, I have to go to thel second floor for art. Thal art teacher hableaks in English. She is not gorgita. Thankfully, after that I will be done with escuel for the day.Julie Faulk
"Is it true what they say about you?" said Gwen Stefani. I was not in the mood to chirp, but I had heard stories about her wizard sleeve and had been getting pretty welded off my Kentucky Platinum and cola, so I decided to induldge her. "It's as true as a pedophile is happy at a playground," I told her. We talked for a while about my days as an ice road trucker, but I soon became bored with her. Future Bogie's was hopping that night and everyone seemed to be pretty redonkulated. As closing time drew near, I knew that I needed to find a grind-piece, or my train would not be giving out rides tonight. Gwen Stefani was looking like my best option, so I tossed the bartender some doe doe to cover my tab and went to chirp at her. She, of course, thought of me as a glorified axe man, so before I knew it she was back at my residence getting ready to buy a first class ticket to pound town. I'll spare you the details, but shit happened.The next morning I woke up feeling the effects of the previous night's debauchery. I had a glass of water and decided that I needed to re-rack or I would not be able to make it through the day. After my re-rack and a good meal, I decided to fight some robots and they killed me.
If you search you will find. If you chirp you will grind.
Saturday, July 4, 2026My two goodboys, Wally and Jay-Jay, and I, we were hanging out earlier this afternoon at the corner of Shrub Street and Victory Avenue at the 7-Eleven. Most businesses have run us off for loitering at some point or another, but we were cool with the Hindu manager because we would regularly buy Slurpees and Slim Jims from his store. We goodboys were, as we usually do most days to relax, smoking genuine tobacco cigarettes that Jay-Jay got through his connections on the black market. Like most everything nowadays, these cigs were Chinese as were the 4th of July fireworks that we were planning on watching a little bit later in the city’s show. Of course, tobacco is illegal, and has been since 2012, but the Bullydogs never bother you as long as you’re willing to throw them the occasional “bone”. And even though the 7-Eleven’s got peepers hooked up in front of the store, we never paid any mind to getting busted. Wally’s cousin’s friend, who is a Bullydog, said that the peepers weren’t even monitored 99% of the time- they were just used as deterrent. Or did he say that they were all monitored 99% of the time? I can’t remember. In any case, nothing bad ever happened to us before, so we didn’t sweat it.Being the tobacco fiend that I am, I finished first while Wally and Jay-Jay were only halfway through their cigs. “Damn,” blurted Jay-Jay, “slow down and savor it. Don’t you know the shit I had to go through to get these?”“Yeah,” I said, “I know because you tell me how tough it is every freaking time you get a new carton. And, to be honest, it doesn’t really sound all that difficult: You pay a guy half the cost for it, he goes and gets the product off the black market for you, you pay him the rest of the money, transaction complete. Big deal.” Wally laughed at that.“Screw you, man. I deal with some crazy guys that won’t hesitate to knife me and take my money at the drop of a hat,” retorted Jay-Jay.“They’re not gonna knife, you. That would be bad for business, would it not? You’re a loyal, paying customer after all.”“Fine, believe me or not. I don’t need to prove myself to you.” A few moments passed, “You know what, just for that, you don’t get another cig today. And I’m gonna charge you a fair price for the one you just smoked. Let’s see, market value, divided by 10, divided by 20, $1.25 plus convenience charge,” he thought out loud while looking up at the sky. “Gimme $2 and we’ll call it good.”“Two bucks? For one cig? That’s ridiculous! You’re ridiculous.”“My generosity just ran out. If you’re gonna be a moocher, then you’ll have to learn to respect me. No more smokes ‘till you pay the jackass tax.”I had to pay him— I was addicted. “Fine. Smallest I’ve got is a ten. I’ll go inside and see if he’ll break it.”“I’ll take a ten if that’s all you’ve got!” laughed Jay-Jay.“Oh, piss off,” then I added, “good buddy boy.” They were both laughing as I entered the store. I turned back to see Jay-Jay holding his arms stretched out chest-high in front of him mimicking a puppet master with his hands and Wally almost keeling over with laughter at the sight of it all. Some goodboys they were. I went to the restroom and locked the door. I needed to make a scene. I kicked the stall door off its hinges, smashed the mirror with the towel dispenser, and removed the bag of liquid soap from the soap dispenser and stomped it. I hate being blackmailed. I hate being made fun of. After several more minutes of fuming, I emerged from the restroom ready to pay up. The Hindu clerk looked frantically at me.
“Your goodboys,” he said exasperatingly, “they were taken by the Bullydogs.” I looked out the window. Sure enough, they were gone. “The Bullydogs came by, four of them. Your goodboys were thrown in a van and hauled off, lights and sirens and everything. It all happened so fast. Sorry, sir. Please come again.” I ran outside to see if I was being had, but they were nowhere to be found, the only trace of their presence being two half-burnt cigarettes crushed on the sidewalk. As I passed the newspaper vendor, I noticed on the front page of the National News that below the 250th anniversary of America hoopla, blah, blah, blah, that the Broots up in Washington had snuck in Freedom Day legislation under the guise of “safety”, authorizing Bullydog usage and monitoring of all peepers and an escalation of the war on drugs. Technology’s a bitch sometimes.It didn’t really matter to me at that point what happened to my goodboys, who really weren’t. The Bullydogs could trump them up on 15 different fictitious charges and lock them up in a max-security gooliag for all I care. As for the Broots, they can go to hell for passing that bill but I must say that the timing of it was impeccable. I walked back into the store, bought myself $10 worth of Slurpees and Slim Jims, and headed down to the park to catch the fireworks show.
Bonjello! Although today is just Miercosday, there were bouqoo people at the ristorent I work at. I came across a very somird couple. They asked me the most somird question that I couldn’t answer. They wanted to know if we serve requinark meat, and I told them this is an Italian ristorent. We only serve pastallia. I mean, come on! But anywhowho, I just left and am now heading casanha. The drive from trabawork to my casanha is like 30 minutis long. I am too fatigumet to write anymore.Jessica Chu
Setting- February 1, 2049. Sunday, February 1, 2049, the light's from the Dallas Cowboy's Stadium spoined across the Texas sky. After months of anticipation, it was finally Superknocker Sunday. Brooke and I were ready to watch some slamboink! Trey Romo was eager to bigate the game against the New England Patriots at 7pm. Brooke and I palmed seven thousand greensheets for our Superknocker trickles. They were only expensive because our simmerdowns were on the 50-yard line. We boogieskipped to Justin Timberswamp at halftime, and we got to get an autopost after the game. When Trey Romo led a 58-yard touchdown reception to win the game, I was so bambaldered that I schwined with excitement like a little girl on Christmas morning. Needless to say, Trey Romo was the superheight of the game, and the replay of the touchdown was on satevision nationwide. *TaYLoR WRiGHT*
After a couple of hours in the waiting area, I finally made it back to a patient’s room. When the doctor walked in he asked me the usual. I was a little rosied because I had to wear one of those awkward robes. After what felt like hours, and a physical from my head to my ziggies, he finally decided to X-ray my trapzle. I was pretty badly toggled in the last football game, and I was worried I had torn a muscle. Luckily, when he saw the results, he told me I had only torn my trapzle. The life of a maximusc is tough.
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Journal entry date: July 9, 2198What to do this obtuse morn? You would think living in the main oppy, I would have infinite choices. Yet, I had nully frequented the oppy during the light, so, I was implicked. I was with the opinion I should look about the locos with which I was familiar. My wonnie was Studio Corinth, a clavo on the west side of the ziggy. To my grand insolice, it was closed. It would seem no one fancied to dance and guzzy alcohol at nine in the morn. I then made my way to the shindock where me and my micos prefer to eat. The place was very different in the light. It looked morid and drearsome. Evenso, I order my usual dilat of steak and amyl…….but even the food was different. It tasted blanklike and rubbery. What the hell was going on? This is the type of smozy that makes me desire to nully show my dome in the oppy during the light again. If it were not for my selected duty, I would nully even go to the out during the light EVER!!!!
Today I was clothed down something special for the trip I was taking to the diner and the sit-in cinema. Mom and Pops were tazdy-maloed about how much money I had spent on the new poodle skirt and white keds I was clothed down (rather nicely) in.They city-lighted told me about how money don't grow on trees and Pops works hard to bring home his bacon and Mom's pearls. They get all tazdy-maloed when I spend their cents on soda pop and drive-ins with my buddies.I was meeting my petty steader at the cinema to see a flick tonight. We city-lighted sat in the back to hold hands and smooch and we faithfully bought popcorn too. We threw the popcorn at brass stars sitting in the front rows real pretty like.Tonight turned out different though. My petty steader was being a real brass star: following the rules, talking real polite, and being real courteous. I think I got clothed down something proper for nothing.-Sky Morel
We were waiting to get off of the sub when a burg broke out between three lags. The crowd was growing anxious as the burg continued and at the height of excitement one of the lags pulled out a durg. All the while I was just hoping to get off the sub unharmed. I was used to seeing this situation on the way to work, but I never got used to it. What happened to the day when you were safe from all of this gander? Finally, one of the lags was escorted off the subway and his durg was taken away.
Today school started again. It was totally zorb getting to see my friends on the virtual classroom screen. I hated having to wake up early though. I wanted to kill my meez when she got me up at 10:30 am! Today's lesson told us about how humans used to leave their houses to go to school and actually work, drive and cook for themselves without any technology! I cannot even imagine having to make my own sarp three times a day.My meez told me that people even used to drive their own wonks way back when. I cannot wait till my birthday when i get my own wonk and it can take me wherever I want. That would be totally zorb! Hopefully they won't make me pay for it because I'm super low on kaz these days.... Sarah McBride
Setting: 100 years from now. Post-nuclear war. All major cities are destroyed. People live in small clusters and roam the land for food and shelter. All technology has been destroyed."Its been brawly scoosh trying to find good paper round this area. I found this weeny sheet on the ground near a collapst concrete building. I bet it used to be a librery (sp?), where smarties would go and rent books... Anyhoo I've found this paper, so I'll put it to exlly use. Day before last ond we came round another clan of roamers.They had some extra pelts and some exlly meat flanks which they let us burrow. One girl in their group lookd to be 20 or so, woah she was a cutie! Water's been scarce lately. An elder is sick, I propish he's dehyrdated. I'm running out of space on this here payper. If I find anuther piece soon I'll scribble again.
My sassifrases and I set-out on a mission to save the wobbelglo. We put our special snazzeltoes on our feet, grabed a healthy treat, and headed out the door. Waving honkabye to the life we knew before, we hoped to spread the oraloreo "peace and love are the way to go!"
Our madam president has yet to bush it all up. We can't seem to think how foddy the beauty of certain female's characteristics are shown today. Each piece of cod from their behavior has always seem so inviting just as only a sape could do so well. Oh, wonderous madam how you shook my apple!
20-30 years in the future...I can't believe I still have to do this mandizzle. All this ditch digging is takingtoo much time. Besides, shouldn't robots be doing this by now? It's already8pm and I have a date with this hot filet at 9. Not only is this mandizzle getting on my nerves,but my whipship is in the shop. I'll work up a sweat by legpaining home. Then once I'm homeI still gotta pillpop and profile-edit before we go out. My date will castrate me and leave me in the dumps if I don't make it in time.
“You know how zing you were going Ms…… Looper? Did I lolly that right?” I lollied to myself while looking up at this young cop who couldn’t have been a day over 21. Zingly I thought of an excuse, “Mr. Cop……” , immediately I ran through my head all the excuses I had used in the past that had worked on such occasions as this. At that point at that exact moment I decided to go with the excuse that my older sister was bellied and due to deliver at any second. What a great excuse I thought to myself, almost fezzing out of how impressed I was with my quick reaction to such a question. Mr. Cop bought it, bought it so much that he offered to escort me to the hospital at which my sister was delivering. Mr. Cop said, “Alright, well my jurisdiction ends here but I’ll make an exception for you since I wouldn’t want you to miss out on such a family event, let me guess, Baton Rouge General? “ Without giddying I nodded in agreement and within 5 clucks I was entering sliding doors of the hospital wondering what the hell I was supposed to do from here, no sister to go to, no ugfant to see delivered. As Mr. Cop and I approached the front desk, as if a miracle had been bestowed upon me, I heard over his radio, “all available units report back to headquarters, this is not a drill!”.
July 8, 2049. While in my room doing my daily jobcob with my hologram of Richard Simmons I cannot help but think if everyone is doing their daily jobcob too. It seems as though Richard is a little too loud for my poopiyaki’s liking. To avoid having them get mikamika with me I chose to leave and go to my best friend’s house. I took my bubs over to my friend’s homanshac. It is here where we will plan our night’s events. First we start off by going to the local video arcade where we get mikamika while playing our highly interactive games. Unfortunately on the way to our next location, my bubs pops and we have to wait for AAA to come and blow it back up for us and figure out what the problem was. After that two hour ordeal it is back to my friend’s homanshac so that we don’t miss our curfew. After a good night’s sleep we will get up to have brunch with her poopiyakis and then go on with our very peaceful day.
Confessions of a Teenager in 2029It took me forever to edit my profile before finding the perfect outfit to impress the beckham at school. After making a few obamas to my oral report, I rushed to class, not noticing that my black bra was totally HD-ing through my white shirt. To make matters worse, my teacher pointed out that i bushed several words in an attempt to sound smarter. But my day got better when the total beckham asked me out.
Some post apocalyptic future. Phosphorus was high in the sky as I staggered in the morning bliss, the vacancy of life. I had my revolver by my side, but would this be enough against my foes? I was known as a vaigrus. I never did stop moving, but my foes had. Three days with little prime slows a man down. It would have slowed me down in this heat, but Os had other plans for me. Smoke bellowed on the horizon and stood out across this bleack barren land. I checked to make sure my revolver was loaded. Six slydogs sat neatly waiting to burst into some deserving foe. I approached thier camp slowly. It was empty save for a few coyotes scavaging through some poor dross. It seemed the heat was doing my work for me. Starting off again, I hoped I would catch the last two remaining foes before Os took them, or my own prime ran out.
So last week I xiang'd my ankle, leaving a oftwaft at the prescription writer's office. She'huan it may be, if you can believe that. Dokta and uftwah for me to get better. Find me next at the hoodoozky we love and vitch with me, tology or not.He ping, my brothers...
Current time: Second coming of Jesus Christ, just joking. Far in the future... sure.Stuff I did today.At school, I was bullied again. He slammed my face against the locker, not too hard but enough to get my attention. Meatbags walking by just laughed at me. That rotten meat, crushing me against the locker, wanted money, again. I gave it to him... a crack on the eggs – acutally I wanted to but didn't lest he unscrews my head. Afterwards, school ends, and I walk to the car waiting for me. As usual, the door automatically opens and, somehow recognizing my presence in the car, closes. It drives me home by some preconfigured route set by my parents. I dicted the gasbag to take me to Whopper Queen. It says, "unable to comply, user does not have permission" Whatever, I say feces. At home, I sat on my soofus, looking at the digital screen, which covers the walls of my room. I dicted the gasbag installed on my phomec to start looding a few classical music. I looded the music to my parrot and listened to it for the rest of the day. Later, I'm walking down the sidewalk and saw a MicroShaft store. Instantly, my face is flat against the shop's window, my mouth wide open and drooling at the new parrot they just released.
I was absent when we got the assignment, but I figured I should submit it anyway for what it's worth.Setting - Many many years down the road. And yes, there are robots.It started when they took away the bangs, and then our boogaboogas. The hoofus revolution commenced by the boomboompow of Megatron, and the hoofus rapidly demised from that very moment. We were far too feeble to protect ourselves and we all became esclavos to the villians and tyrants who swiftly took over. The ubiquitous melancholy was evident in the mass slayings and affliction brought onto our people. It's beyond any of our measures to save ourselves until Optimus Prime came along. Prime is our only hope in a world where the future seems as bleak as a tornado sky. Prime's coming along to save us from the tyranny that ensued by rallying us together; it is our only hope at any notion of a future without devastation. We have one chance at redemption and it mustn't slip out of our hands before we're all annihilated in a muerte that can't come soon enough.