It’s story time, TAY. Paragraph by paragraph, let’s build something that we can look back on and wonder how we ever let such a monster come to exist. One paragraph per person, and maybe call dibs before writing so we can maintain some semblance of order. As a community, let’s write the most incoherent, absurdist tale we can! I’ll start:

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Alarm: 4:30 AM. Pre-dawn bleakness mocks you through your bedroom window. Snooze. Your phone ignores your touch. You swipe harder, knocking it off the bedside table. Crack. You wince as you picture the fracture running across the screen of your $500 phone. Jerking out of bed, you scoop your phone up off the floor. Yep, a spiderweb radiates from the centre of the screen - and the alarm is still going off. Seething, you try to dismiss it, but the screen’s completely dead. Fantastic. On today of all days. The most important goddamn day of your life. What does it say about the first President of Earth if they don’t have a working phone?

Emerald_Mara85:

I look to my right, looking at the missing spot of my bed...Anna. She was supposed to be here especially today. Were it not for the Zeotkronians insisting that she take part in their strange rituals as the wife of a president. I probably shouldn’t be complaining, the Zeotkronians gave us interstellar travel and a favourable position in the Galactic Alliance...But I can’t help feeling that I shouldn’t have shook their hand on that day...

The day of 1st contact.

Wiim:

The Zeotrokians came at the light of first dawn. The especially arranged squadron of dogs was highly trained to bark in the right order as per customs. As I clench my grandfather’s watch, palms sweating and eyes widening. I distinctly remember his advice on dealing with these kinds of things.

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Axiomofabe:

“Never forget, child of my child. My watch runs hot and will make your hands quite sweaty. Also, why do you always gawk at people all wide eyed like that?” Sage advice, my hands were in no shape to wield anything today, and people did find my deep gaze disconcerting. Sunglasses were right where I left them, but a towel would have to be found underneath the massive pile of laundry.

Aikage:

It seemed like such odd advice but as the Zeotrokians came into view it made sense. They could only be defeated by the power of the written word. Luckily I had taken magic air writing classes from my Government sponsored magic air writing talent class 101: intro to air writing. It had cost me everything but my grandfather’s watch but now it was totally worth it.

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Sylverfyst:

I pulled the towel from the pile and wrapped it around my head. Side stepping the customary dogs, I strode assuredly out of our new home to the inauguration. The Zeotrokians were waiting at the foot of the stairs. I was always taken aback by their appearance, something about how ... pink and fuzzy they were filled me with discomfort.

YOUR TURN!