Haha yeah the random reviews are pretty great too, "I could do better" -Zob Gloop
Anyhow, what is your idea that we would write it in the replies?
I was thinking making a new series on Tapas and posting them here! 
We could make them cell phone novels too and add to the challenge that each chapter has to be under a hundred words?
I have to say it sounds fun. The under 100 words might work as a side project. Would this be in the comedy genre like a roll with the absurdity sort of thing, or try to make something serious from random material?
Up to you! I was thinking of rolling for:
- An Opening Line
- A First Line of Dialogue
- A Plot
- Story Title
- Character Generator/Cast
- Random Job / Occupation for your characters
- The setting of the first scene
And then it'd ultimately be up to you to see what you want to make of it!
I feared it didn't work at first.
I'm going to go generate, will be back with the results soon.
Is there a generator you'd like to add?
No this works haha. I am feeling a little like comedy with this one. We'll see...
Title: The Crooked Attic
Opening line:
There are only three things in life that truly matter: health, politics and money.
First line of dialog:
"I knew you wouldn't be able to see it through."
A man in his early twenties, who is very bold.
A man in his early twenties, who is very cruel.
The story begins in a country lane.
An elderly person is burgled.
It's a story about forgiveness.
Your character is tested to the limits of physical endurance
Random Character:
This character is a man in his late forties, who can be quite reckless. He comes from a comfortable background, lives in a mansion and tends to be a hoarder.
Random Job:
Osteopath
Random setting:
It's dawn.
There's light cloud in the sky.
You're by the sea.
There's a friendly feel to the place.
I'd love to do that but it would take too long for me to write properly in English. I may do it in French though.
I can't wait to read yours!!
Mine is... very dramatic. 
Opening Line:
My name is Chloe Kellerman, at least, that's what it says on my birth certificate.
Random First Line of Dialogue
"No! I'm tired of doing what you say."
Random Plot:
A man in his early thirties, who is very rude.
A woman in her early thirties, who is very judgemental.
The story begins in a castle.
Someone is badly injured in a car crash.
It's a story about memories.
Your character has to do some quick thinking to keep ahead
Story Title:
The Secret Pianist
Random Cast:
This character is a man in his early forties, who is very eccentric. He comes from a comfortable background, lives in the suburbs and tends to always say the wrong thing.
This character is a woman in her late twenties, who is very shy. She comes from a wealthy background, lives in a city apartment and tends to have difficulty saying No.
This character is a man in his early thirties, who is very adventurous. He comes from a poor background, lives in a mansion and tends to drive too fast.
This character is a man in his early forties, who can be quite decisive. He comes from a wealthy background, lives in a converted barn and tends to be rather lazy.
This character is a woman in her fifties, who is very shy. She comes from a wealthy background, lives in a mansion and tends to lose track of time.
Random Jobs / Occupations:
Author
Construction worker
Salesperson
Nun
Jewellery maker
Tailor
Shop assistant
Clairvoyant
Setting:
It's midnight.
There's a mist rolling in.
You're in the heart of a city.
There's a stimulating feel to the place.
Ahhahaha too good. There is actually a lot of potential to go different ways with yours! Look forward to reading yours as well! Should be a fun experiment.
An Opening Line: By a sparkling and cool stream, I looked for a giraffe.
A First Line of Dialogue: There's a surprise for you in the garage.
A Plot: A woman in her eighties, who is very generous.
A woman in her fifties, who can be quite charming.
The story begins in a desert.
Someone is arrested.
It's a story about rebellion.
Your character takes control of the situation
Story Title: The Happy Bicycle
Character Generator/Cast: This character is a woman in her early twenties, who can be quite helpful. She comes from a poor background, lives in a mansion and tends to a huge collection of pot plants.
Random Job / Occupation for your characters: Machinist
The setting of the first scene: It's late afternoon. There's a hazy, humid atmosphere.
You're in a village.
There's a friendly feel to the place.
The Happy Bicycle
By a sparkling and cool stream, I looked for a giraffe. I'm 89 now and for all my life I've been working on modifying the genetic code of these magnificent creatures to make them able fly, but I failed, so I moved here to N'nankapaala-Dirozi village to become a missionary machinist.There was no giraffe. I sighed. If only they had wings, they'd could just fly away from predators.
"There's a surprise for you in the garage!" My melancholy was interrupted by soft and cheerful voice of my assistant. "I brought you some tea". "Thank you, Veronika." - I replied, taking the cup."What could it be?"- I wondered.
So I walked to the garrage and saw a large package with a note attached to it. I took the note and began to reed. "What does it say?" - Veronika asked entering the room.
- It's from the princess Nadiri
- The one from that mansion in the middle of the village?
- Yes. She says, she want's to thank me for stopping that nasty robo-dozers uprising last week. Who would known that all it would take is only a half an hour at the lathe to machine a mouthplug for thair leader.
- Yeaa... That gut was telling them to do some really nasty things... So, open it up!
I started to rip off the packing paper. "Quicker! Can't wait to see what's in there!" - she can be so childish sometimes.
I took my time unwraping the present just to tease her, but finally the mysterious object was revealed to our yes. It was brand new all shiny red bicycle with a flower pot in basket upfront. "Oh, she loves them so much!.." - gasped Veronika sniffing the pink flower in the pot - "Smells like mustard though. Probably some deffected specimen from her substential collection"
It was a pleasant surprize indeed. It felt so nice to be rewarded for good job, but little did I know at the moment, since very soon it became obvious, that the bicycle was magical. Yes, magical non the less! And its power was to make everyone around happy. Probably some N'nankapaalian shamanic stuff.
But what was more important, it could finally make happy me, because now I could give them if not wings to replenish their population, but hours of joy on a dayly basis. So I spent whole year hanging out wiith them riding my bike and chewing leaves from the pink flower while listening reggae music. For some time I was convinced though, that it all was just the effect from the leaves and those people were giving me weird looks for some other reason then being happy, but I died before I figured it all out,
The End
Ugh... it wasn't easy. It's really hard to tie together while all basic elements are so random, while trying to keep the story short at the same time. I felt like a good bit of absurdity was practicly inavoidable, so I just decided to run with it. It's a great challange though as it forces you to be inventive in ways you've never been before.
An Opening Line: Gerry Amani is in love with my step-dad and there's nothing I can do about it.
A First Line of Dialogue: "You were always the quiet one."
A Plot: A woman in her late forties, who can be quite sensitive. A young man in his late teens, who can be quite reckless. The story begins at a market. A routine blood test shows two family members are not related. It's a story about madness. Your character is not afraid to get involved
Story Title: The Angry Wind
Character Generator/Cast: This character is a man in his late thirties, who is very foolish. He comes from a comfortable background, lives in a country cottage and tends to spend too much money.
Random Job / Occupation for your characters: Dietician
The setting of the first scene: It's late afternoon. There's hail bouncing off the ground. You're in a village. There's a creepy feel to the place.
-rubs hands together- I can definitely make a horror story outta this~
The Angry Wind
Gerry Amani is in love with my step-dad and there's nothing I can do about it. At least, nothing I can do about her being in love with him.
Chris had always been a kind enough man. He had been young when my mum married him, but I still liked him. He was definitely the father I never had, and when mum passed, we both grieved. Chris...he just wasn't going to ever let it go, her death, and I guess I should've let him mourn in peace instead of forcing him to get out there in date again (it HAD been 9 years since she passed). Now...well...
"You were always the quiet one"
I was stuck here with Gerry -- my distant aunt from Chicago.
My mum's twin sister.
We're sitting at the market place at the heart of Duncan Grove: the tiny little village mum and Gerry grew up in. The snow had been piling up outside -- heavy hail against the pavement -- and the building was dimly lit. She popped in a cigarette, taking a light puff, and sighed.
"C'mon Daniel...talk to me..."
"What's there to talk about? I come back from college, and you're already here trying to steal Chris."
"I'm not..." She pursed her lips together, frowning deeply. "You've got a rude mouth."
"Not so quiet now, am I?"
She huffed, pulling away and letting smoke breathe through her nose.
"You're only after his money, Gerry."
"He seems happy enough to spend it on me!"
"Only because you look like her" I hissed, leaning over with the sharpest of eyes. "Don't ever think he loves you for your personality. You can pull the wool over his eyes, but never mine."
"Oh, you're so hurtful..." But there was no hurt in her voice. She put her cigarette out and got up to get her jacket.
"If this is how you'll greet me, I'll make sure to keep you out of the wedding, Daniel!"
"Wouldn't be too sure about that."
Carefully, I slide an envelope over to her, a very papers slipping out. She sneers at it, eyeing to the table and then to me before slowly picking them up.
"What's this?"
"Documents." I noted, deciding to take out my own pack of cigars. "You know...it's...it's strange how you came to us all these years later. You didn't even come to mum's funeral."
"I was busy. Being a traveling Dietitian is serious work."
"Hm. How's the trial going? I hear your lawyer's still trying to get you a deal. Does Chris even know?"
Gerry pauses at that, glancing my way with anxious eyes. Yeah, I heard about her case, and I knew Chris didn't know about it. She was supposed to be a dieting expert, but every last one of her "clients" seemed to just up and die of madness. Sheer, complete madness. She comes and goes from their homes like a demon whisper and well...
"I got curious." I saw the way she eyed the papers, a few photos and such trembling in her thin hands.
"Curious that you've come back all these years after you cut off from mum. Curious that you still look so young after what -- 13, 15, years?" I wave my hand, chuckling at her quivering lips.
"I guess it worked in your favor, Gerry. Chalk it up to a secret fountain of youth. You get people interested, you take their money, and you ship out. A regular con artist. But..."
I pointed to those papers, my grin growing wider. "You're not gonna con me."
Gerry stared at the blood tests, seeing that she tested negative -- she was never a part of our family. Never related, never even born from my grandmum. She was a fake -- a complete total fake with blood that wasn't real. A photo slipped from her shaking fingers, showing my mum and her sister as young women -- Gerry always had a right mole on her cheek.
This Gerry had the mole on her left.
She stares at me, and I stare at her, puffing smoke through my lips. My voice is quiet, feeling the tension in the marketplace. Everyone else is oblivious, but I see the way her green eyes glow to orange against the dark winter afternoon. She bit her lip, blood like blue ink slipping bubbling around her tooth.
I swallow slowly.
"I dunno what you are or how you tricked Chris into believing you," I put my cigar out, getting my coat and putting it on. "But I will tell you this..."
I put down my mum's cross, and she pulled away, gripping and crumbling the papers with growing nails. Just the very sight made her recoil, and Gerry's skin burned red at the arms.
"You won't come and go in this house. You won't have Chris."
She said nothing and placed the papers down, her eyes turning back to green and licking up the inky blood. She hurriedly put her coat on and rushed out the door, into the winter cold. Deep inside, I knew it'd be the last me and Chris would see of her.
I sat back down and breathed slowly, my heart beating fast. I took out another cigar and lit it with trembling hands. I knew Gerry hadn't been Gerry. I had always known that.
Because Gerry Amani died 15 years ago in Chicago.
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