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Getting Started is the first episode of the Promptly Written Podcast. 


Part 1Edit

Space Murder (Connor)Edit

Prompt: A dialogue between an astronaut and mission control because something has gone wrong with the other astronauts.


Ryan: "Mission control, this is Ryan. We, uh, we have a problem, over."

Mission Control: "Ryan, thank Christ. This is Mission Control, Starstriker One has been silent for hours. What is the problem, over?"

Ryan: "We've, uh... We've had some interpersonal issues, over."

Mission Control: "Inter-what? Ryan, need I remind you that there has been radio silence between us for... for at least six hours. We've been desperately trying to reach you. Now, let's not beat around the bush; what happened?"

Ryan: "Alright."

[silence]

Mission Control: "Well, Ryan? Answer me!"

Ryan: "Gerald is dead."

Mission Control: "What? Ryan, did we just hear you correctly? 'Gerald is dead'?"

Ryan: "Yeah, you heard me. He's dead."

Mission Control: "The hell is going on up there, Ryan? You're supposed to be in charge of this mission, you go silent after launch, and now you're telling me that Gerald is dead? Explain. Now."

Ryan: "Okay, okay. So, after launch, we were moving around the control room, doing our measurements, documenting, and then Frank just kinda stops dead, and he.... He drops this bombshell on us."

Mission Control: "What? Is there a problem with the ship?"

Ryan: "No."

Mission Control: "The measurements were bad, the weights was off, what- What is it, Ryan?"

Ryan: "We only had enough room to bring one kind of snack and Gerald chose Cheez-Its."

Mission Control: "And? What does this have to do with Gerald dying?"

Ryan: "I'm just getting to that, hold on. So, Gerald told us that he had to make the choice, and that about a week ago, when the ship was getting loaded-"

Mission Control: "No, Ryan, honestly? I don't give a shit. How. Did. Gerald. Die? This needs to be addressed immediately."

Ryan: "Fine. Me, Frank, and Heihachi stabbed him."

Mission Control: "You did what?"

Ryan: "We stabbed Gerald to death."

Mission Control: "Why?"

Ryan: "Because he brought Cheez-Its instead of Cheese Nips, Mission Control.

Mission Control: "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Because I cannot fucking tell."

Ryan: "I am not."

Mission Control: "Let me get this straight. Gerald brought Cheez-Its instead of Cheese Nips, and you all stabbed him to death for it."

Ryan: "That's about it, yeah."

Mission Control: "Oh. Well, good. What a fucking idiot."

Ryan: "Yeah, right? That's what we were saying, god damn moron. Cheez-Its over Cheese Nips, how the hell did he even get in the program?"

Mission Control: "Who can say? I mean, damn testers must have let it slide. So what's- what was the six hours of radio silence?"

Ryan: "Gerald was in control of communication. It took us six hours to get the mic on."

Mission Control: "So, the ship is okay?"

Ryan: "Hm? Oh, yeah. Ship is in ship shape, heh. Uh, we're on course and on time."

Mission Control: "What did you do with Gerald?"

Ryan: "We threw him out the airlock."

Mission Control: "Oh, good. No extra weight."

Ryan: "Yeah, that's what we were thinking, yep."

Mission Control: "So, uh, if you've got comm back online, you've gotten rid of the body, it seems like everything's fine. What's the issue?"

Ryan: "The issue, Mission Control, is that we have a four year supply of Cheez-Its as our only snack, and we've got a crew of Cheese Nip men that are getting peckish."

Radio silence.

Ryan: "Mission Control?"

Mission Control: "We've got some coordinating to do, son.

Ryan: "We do?"

Mission Control: "You're damn right. We need to get you home and get you some real damn snacks."

Ryan: "Sir, yes, sir."

Fin.


The Tale of Rufus (Kevin)Edit

Prompt: A conversation between a cashier and a man who has recently been attacked by an animal.


Two damp, sloshing work boots trudged their way into a gas station convenience store just across from LeDumps Lake. Attached to the boots were two wooden dowels. Attached to those were the hands of a man: Rufus Skarborchst. He walked the boots ahead of himself, much to the confusion of the cashier behind the counter. He walked up and down the aisles before stopping and addressing the cashier.

"Yo! This all gummy worms you have? Because I can't be certain that it'll be enough for what I need." He rubbed his chin, pondering the exact volume of rainbow candy worms. "You have any boxes out back?"

"Uh, no, pretty sure that's all we got, man. There's some gummy sharks though, if you-"

"No! Sharks are the enemy! They never work," Rufus cried out. He walked the boots and himself to the counter. "I have a story to tell you, my boy. A story of intrigue, horror, and slight, squishy wetness."

"Uh..."

Rufus looked the cashier over with his creepy eyes (just, unbelieveably unsettling glare just crashed through his chest - the kind of look that makes you want to cover yourself with a lead blanket and just cast yourself off the top of an unfinished skyscraper, praying to some mysterious deity that the added weight would propel you enough to crash through the surface of the earth, plunge through molten lava and arrive in Hell under the steely glare of Satan himself, because it would be less uncomfortable). 

"Listen up, Erik- with a K? Really? I've never seen it spelt that way. Anyway, it all started a long time ago. Like," he looked at his watch. "thirty-seven minutes ago. I was out fishing with my boots, as you do. I take them to lay false tracks so the fish don't know where I'm coming from."

"You uh... You put the boots on the water-"

"Don't be stupid, Erik. What kind of moron are you? The boots are in the boat. Boots can't walk on water. Anyway, I was casting out my line, deep into the blackened depths of LeDumps, when all of a sudden I feel a tug on my boots! Tug nearly wrenched the rod from my hand, and I struggled against its mighty weight as I began to reel it in. But before I could get the fish into the boat, the line snapped. And out of the murky deep he arose: Ol' Dumpsy. A giant icthyosaur the likes of which the world hasn't seen for at least hundreds of years."

"Hu-hundreds? I think you mean 'millions'. Like, icthyosaurs first appeared a few million years into the Mesozoic Era-"

"Enough of your science, Erik. This is my fantasy story. I don't need any of your Silmarillion bullshit clogging my mind. Anyway, Ol' Dumpsy dragged me down into the depths with him. One hundred meters, two hundred meters, five hundred, a thousand."

"This lake's, like, forty feet deep, dude."

"And then as we approached twenty-five hundred meters down, he unclenched his jaws and I escaped, using my pole-boots as battle weapons, I staved off his attacks for as long as I could muster. It was when he drew his sword that I knew I would need to use my full power to defeat him."

"He-" Erik rubbed his eyes. "The icthyosaur drew a sword. Does he have hands now? What's..." He sighed. "Continue."

"Our weapons clashed in the darkness, the sparks from their contact lighting the water around us."

"Sp-sp-sparks?"

"Oh, what calamity would have been brought to the world should this beast have been granted the gift of legs. But he only had weird, creepy flippers. Like that movie with that dolphin, Flipper. You know the one. Anyway, when I could hold my breath no longer, I cast out my magic binding spell to Ol' Dumpsy, chaining him to the greasy bottom of the lake, and I swam up to the surface."

"Right. So, now you're here," Erik reached under the counter and pressed a button. "So the gummy worms, then. What are those for?"

"It's a well known fact, my boy, that the only way to make a binding spell of power enough to seal away such a beast is to summon Great King Guppo Gummi, the great Worm Lord from the other realm, and call upon his powers to tear open the fabric of space and time, and create a temporal stasis where the beast will reside for all eternity as time passes around him." A car pulled up outside. Two men in dark suits got out and entered the store.

"So, this temporal rift. How would you go about- Oh, look at that!" Erik pointed to a blank wall. As Rufus turned, one of the dark-suited men clubbed him over the head with a garden trowel, knocking him out instantly. Erik watched as Rufus was dragged outside and into the back seat of the car, which then drove away. He stood, staring out the window of the convenience store. He lifted his right hand and placed it upon the glass.

"I won't let anyone take you, Dumpsy. Soon. Soon I will have perfected the Fish-Leg machine, and then you and I can be together once again." He walked back to the counter and, one by one, replaced the bags of gummy worms. 

Part 2 Edit

Tea Time With the Missus (Kevin) Edit

Prompt: A sonnet about Tea Time


Such glory arrives by way of carriage

About the time that tea is served

The girl I'm to be bound in marriage

A beauty that I ill deserve


She sits across from me at the table

And softly pours a spot of tea

I speak whenever I am able

But only manage cry, "Nice tits."


A fight ensued and I was scolded

By the kettle upside my skull.

She threw the ring she once exalted

Our marriage had been rendered null.


When the door was slammed, and I was alone

I retired to my room and ate a scone.



Limericks About a Bar Tender (Connor) Edit

Prompt: Limericks about a bartender.


The perfect place for folks to meet

Pull back a stool, and have a seat

I'll sit back and watch

While you slosh

Your drinks and piss on your feet.


I'm the guy who grabs your drink

The servant who you all think

Will be a great pal

Give you tips on your gal

And be your under-priced shrink.


But I don't give a toss for your woes

Or how your date on Tuesday goes

Just sit at the bar

Throw a buck in my jar

And for God's sake, keep on your clothes.


See, a night at the bar sucks

When you're not the drunk having yucks

I have to clean

Fix the jukebox machine

And throw out you belligerent fucks.


Bartending isn't all that bad

But only at closings I'm glad

Now, I like serving

But the respect I'm deserving

Is so downright abysmal, it's sad.


I guess I'm just being a whiner

Though my job could be a bit finer

The people are funny

I see some cute honeys

And drunks always tip me with fivers.

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