site member prompt Creative Prompt 12

[JSmith]

Anyone ever notice that we skipped Prompt #7?

You awake one day to find a giant jar of mayonase about to attack you. Who do you think about? What do you do? Describe the situation.

Just for the record, this didn't come from my mind, so I'm not the one you should be asking 'What the hell?' about I just thought it was a weird one.

 

Joe

[Graeme]

Anyone ever notice that we skipped Prompt #7?

Have a look at the responses to Prompt #8 -- it may answer your question.

 

As for being attacked by a large jar of mayonaise... I'll see if I'm in a fit state to write something afterwards. I may not -- trauma like that may get shutaway in the back of my mind, never to see the light of day again.

[jalaki]

You awake one day to find a giant jar of mayonase about to attack you. Who do you think about? What do you do? Describe the situation.

 

 

This one's a little strange, but okay, I can work with this....

 

 

 

I mutter incoherently as something breaks my sleep. I sense motion and instantly the fog in my mind clears. There's someone else here. Rolling onto my back, I scan the darkness of the room, thankful for the streetlight outside that allowed in just enough illumination for me to see...to see...

 

What. The. Hell.

 

Is that...a jar of mayonnaise? It had to be...but it was like no jar of mayonnaise I'd ever seen. It had to be almost eight feet tall, the top of its lid brushing against my ceiling fan as it sat motionless near the center of my bedroom. It was a round, clear jar, probably glass, and full to almost to the top with the thick white substance.

 

I rubbed my eyes, certain that I must still be asleep, and pinched myself until I couldn't stand the sharp pain. But when I looked again, it was still there...only now it was closer. How the hell does a giant jar of mayonaise even move? It must have somehow sensed my movement. Wait, what the hell was I thinking? A jar of mayonnaise is not alive! It was at that point I became aware of what must have been its...vocalization. At least, I assume that's whta it was, for nothing else on this earth or any other plane of existence could possibly have made such a sound.

 

Imagine the nastiest porno movie you've ever seen. I'm talking about the kind of thing you wouldn't even let your best friend know existed, let alone that you had watched it, whether or not you enjoyed it. I'm talking the dirty, stinky, sweaty, sloppy, purely revolting kind. Now imagine what the audio from this 'lovemaking' session sounded like before they did any kind of post-processing of it (and trust me, no matter how much you think they didn't do any, they did). Now imagine a hundred people making that same sound, and you might have the vaguest conception of what I was hearing right at this second.

 

Instinctively I pulled the covers closer to my body, as if they could somehow protect me from this...thing...that was somehow, beyond all comprehension, not only existing, but existing in my bedroom in the wee hours of the morning. Again, the jar had inexplicably moved closer. It was now only a few feet from my bed; I could have reached over and hit it, but somehow I knew that touching this thing would be a Very Bad Thing.

 

My thoughts drifted back to the night before. That party had been wild, and while I don't remember there even being any mind-altering substances present - other than alcohol, of course - I suppose somehow something could have found its way into my system. Come to think of it, that guy Arlan had mentioned something he discovered he called 'soy sauce.' Strange name for a drug, but the codewords were always like that I guess. He said it was like nothing you'd ever experience in your life, but I don't know how he could have had any there without us knowing. He would have offered some if it was that great, wouldn't he?

 

The jar hadn't moved through this silent recollection of mine, and I risked glancing around the room again. My desk with my computer, my keyboard on its stand, the dresser, the closet door, the other desk with a few alcohol bottles and a syringe, the small bookcase with all of my...Wait, the syringe? My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the low light, and I could make out what looked like a drop of some thick black liquid on the edge. What the hell was that? Where did it come from, and had it somehow found its way into me? I shuddered at the thought; that shit looked nasty, and who knew what the hell it really was?

 

I suddenly lurched forward as my bed shook; the jar of mayonnaise was now pressed up against the side of my bed. Dear Lord, what was going ON? Hoping to create some space between us, I rolled away from the jar, against the wall, and scrambled to my knees, then crawled forward, off the bottom edge of my bed and onto the carpet. The jar hadn't moved. I took a hesitant step towards the door; leaving the room would require me to pass right by the jar. I tried to glance out into the hallway - perhaps next there would be a huge loaf of bread? - but now the door was closed. Shit.

 

I leaped forward, attempting to close the distance to the door as quickly as possible. The moment my hand touched the doorknob, I felt a hard, cold object against my back. Glass. I froze. The room was silent now; the thing's visceral noise had stopped some moments ago. I hardly dared to breath, sure that even the simple act of turning the knob would bring the thing behind me to life again. And I wouldn't be able to open the door anyway - it opened inward.

 

I was trapped. There was no escape from whatever this nightmare was. I closed my eyes, thinking of how much I would miss Ryan's laughs, his pranks, his ability to cheer me up no matter how down I was feeling. I thought of how I would never get to stare into Tyrell's deep blue eyes again or feel his warm lips against my neck. I wondered what my mother would say when she found my body covered in the white amorphous embrace of an unhly and miserable death. Would there even be a body, or would I become a meal for the thing behind me, never seen or heard from again but always talked about as the friend, lover, and child that simply disappeared one night, remembered by the world as another face on a milk carton?

 

I sighed. This was pointless; I could remain here until the jar acted of its own accord or until exhaustion forced me into motion. Or I could turn the doorknob and try, somehow, to evade the abomination and force the door open.

 

I closed my eyes as that wretched sound began to fill my ears again, as if the jar could somehow sense my thoughts. My hand turned the knob.

[JamesSavik]

You awake one day to find a giant jar of mayonase about to attack you. Who do you think about? What do you do? Describe the situation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I stumble out of bed with my head on fire. I quickly find myself in a mortal struggle with a giant jar of mayonase. Thankfully it is slow and clumbsy but so am I when I'm hung over. All it can really do is try to roll over me. It taunts me by saying, "I'm greasy, full of cholesterol and I'll cut you man!"

 

I escape into the bathroom and throw some water on my face. That's it. I'm never, never ever going to drink tequila again. I don't care if they dare me to swallow the worm.

 

I swallow three asperin, lay down in the tub and pass out. So that is what they mean when they say the mayo has gone bad.

[Graeme]

The noise woke me up. I suppose it's hard for an eight-foot tall jar of mayonaise to move stealthily, but it lost its one and only chance to take me by surprise. Even with both arms strapped up, the guy who successfully battled three killer tomatoes wasn't going to be intimidated by one lousy jar.

 

I rolled off the bed and used the padding on the wall as a trampoline to fling myself at the base of the jar. Elementary physics were on my side as I forced the attacker's centre of gravity from its base. I flipped myself onto my feet and made my move for the exit, but I was too late. Three more jars loomed in the doorway.

 

"Emergency in room 37. The patient has attacked a nurse and is trying to escape."

 

I knew the odds were against me and I allowed myself to be captured. I had to be patient. Sooner or later they'd slip up and I'd make my escape. Earth needed me, as I was the only one who knew the weaknesses of the alien masters of the jars of mayonaise -- the despicable Killer Tomatoes from Mars.

[Camy]

Damn. Those Martian killer Tomatoes strike again!

[Tom]

"attack of the Mayo"...I don't know how I came up with a response to this one...

 

I was asleep. I was dreaming. I had to be, there was no other possible explaination. there was no other rational explaination for a gallon jar, with a lable saying Mayonase, to be at the foot of my bed.

 

As I stared at it, long skinny arms came shooting out from the sides of the textured plastic jar. The arms reached up, removing it's own lid, tossing it off to the side. The jar rose off the floor with the use of two spindlely, long legs, tilting forward to look at me with it's olive shaped black eyes. I could see a smile forming on top of the creamy white surface of the mayonase inside the opening as it leaped from the floor, pinning my legs with it's hand-like feet.

 

I reached out to grab my attacker, only to have both hands pinned to the mattress, leaving me fully spread out and at it's mercy. I struggled, only to find that it's grip was similar to that of dired glue, unyielding and firm

 

It slowly lowered it's container between my thighs, seeking out the warmth of my nether regions. It slowly caressed my thighs, warming as time passed, with ocational light contact with my scrotum. The heat generated was shockingly stimulating as my member slowly responded to the contact.

 

As I reached a lower level of arousel, the Mayonase shifted positions, forcefully grinding against my member, changing pace and timing, as to torture my mind and body. After what felt like an eternity had passed, the smooth white surface of the mayonase shifted, causing several small globs of substance to fly out, splattering my chest.

 

Promptly, the jar flew off my body, landing across the room next to it's lid. It reached out, grabed the lid and screwed it's top back on. I could have sworn I could hear it giggle as it walked out of the room, leaving me dazed and very confused.

 

The next thing I knew, the sun light was streaming into my room, striking a Jar half full of Mayonase, the other half spread over my lower body. Instantly I knew and Yelled, "Damned it Joe, you know I hate that food fedish of your's!"

[AFriendlyFace]

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

 

I awoke to the sound of my doorbell ringing. Hurriedly I rolled out of bed, threw on a pair of boxers and a belt, and then rushed from my bedroom, eager to welcome my visitor.

 

I quickly flung open my frontdoor to find a very cute delivery guy with a HUGE package.

 

"Hi, are you Mr. A.F. Face?" my handsome caller asked as he looked at the clipboard in his hand.

 

"Well I guess that's me," I responded hesistantly wondering why he was using my internet pseudonym.

 

"This is for you then," he said as he wheeled the giant box into my living room. Then as he turned to leave he handed me a small envelop.

 

"What's this?" I tried to ask, but he was already closing the door behind himself.

 

Hmmm, how strange, I thought as I looked cautiously at the 10 foot tall box now standing in the middle of the room. Well maybe this well help explain the mystery, I thought as I began to open the envelop. I discovered a brief note written on GA stationary inside.

 

Dear Kevin,

 

Please accept this lifetime supply of chocolate syrup with our compliments.

 

-Your friends at GA

 

Oh boy! This is so awesome!!! I thought as I quickly ran to the kitchen and began making a very large brownie sundae. First I warmed the brownie ever so slightly, then I scooped on several generous mounds of mint almond ice cream, next I sprayed a copious amount of whipped cream on the whole thing, and finally I sprinkled shredded nuts on top.

 

"THERE! It's perfect, now all that's left is to add the chocolate syrup!" I said outloud, unable to contain my enthusiasm. I hadn't been this excited since the produce stand ran its sale on leeks.

 

Finally I opened the box and laboriously removed the giant bottle marked "Extra rich, extra thick chocolate syrup". Carefully I tilted it onto its side and squeezed a generous amount onto the feast which awaited me. Oddly the contents which plopped into my bowl were white.

 

hmm, must be white chocolate, I thought to myself as I brushed my blonde bangs from my eyes.

 

Eagerly I grabbed a spoon and took a HUGE bite, swallowing before I had time to even process the taste.

 

GASP!!!

 

"This isn't chocolate! This is mayonaise!" I blurted out in disgust. Immediately I could feel my arteries clogging and as I had a massive heartattack and fell to the floor I remembered that GA doesn't have stationary. My mind raced as I tried to figure out who could have poisoned me. It was too late though my heart slowly gave out under the pressure of all the fat and greese laden mayo. As I slowly breathed my last breath I thought, well at least I moisturized last night.

 

 

 

Ten minutes later the same delivery guy returned to the home of the fallen chocoholic. He quickly set about stuffing the toxin-containing bottle back into it's crate. Next he layed the box on its side and, placing the corpse inside, he nailed it shut. Finally he wheeled it out and loaded it into his van. As he closed the back doors bright blue lettering became visible.

 

We don't test our products on animals

 

 

then in much smaller writting at the bottom:

 

 

(we use verbose gay people who parody themselves in writing prompts instead)

Edited October 8, 2006 by AFriendlyFace