[MODERATED] [CRITERIA: Minimum 16 replies to completion]
"Kyle, hurry up!" Four girls sit on the floor of a dark basement, spread out on a bedsheet, a hot pink Ouija board between them. One of them, a young and cheeky-looking Dr. Quirke—Geri—waves for him to come down the stairs and join the circle. "I thought you didn’t wanna waste time."
"I said this was a waste of time," he hisses back, simultaneously hurrying down the stairs to join the circle anyway. "This place isn’t even haunted."
"We don't know that," a girl with too many butterfly clips in her hair chimes in, motioning for the circle to join her on the pink planchette in the middle of the board. "Ghosts get lost sometimes, and that rumor about meeting God had to come from somewhere."
"Oh, so that rumor last year about you and the hippogri—"
Butterfly Clips pointedly clears her throat at Kyle. "Spirits of the bowling alley," she begins, her voice suddenly much lower because of all the spiritualism in the air or something. "Is anyone here?"
There’s a long silence. The planchette sits motionless on the board. Kyle sighs. Butterfly Clips clears her throat again. "Spirits of the bowling alley. We don’t mean to scare you. Is anyone here?"
"I mean it's almost like there's no gh—" Kyle starts, but he doesn't get to finish. The planchette jerks toward YES. Geri squeaks in surprise. Butterfly Clips sticks her tongue out at Kyle.
"Do you have a name?" she continues, and it kind of seems like she’s still staring directly at Kyle. "What should we call you?"
N O N A M E U P I C K
"I would be delighted to pick a name for you, spirit," Butterfly Clips replies, placing her free hand to her chest. "I feel a connection with you, and you feel like—"
"Maybe it's the Dude," Kyle deadpans. "Haunts a bowling alley. Room could really use a rug to pull it all together." As a senior in high school in the year 1999, Kyle fucking loves The Big Lebowski. He looks to the girls for recognition of this really great, topical reference.
It's a painful ten seconds before Geri lets out a tentative "ohhhhh" and a half laugh.
"Anyway," Butterfly Clips yanks control of the circle back to her, "what about—"
T H E D U D E T H E D U D E T H E D U D E. The planchette picks out the letters one by one, over and over, circling the board.
"I think he likes it." Kyle sounds smug. "So, Mr. The Dude, what's got you down here? Are there bodies buried in the basement?"
The planchette begins to move again, swirling around the pink spirit board. T R A—
There's a rattle from the top of the stairs. The sticky knob from the basement door. "Shit." With half a second to act, Kyle grabs the Ouija board, planchette and all, and hurls it into the darkness.
MEMORY: Mr. The Dude
[CRITERIA: Minimum 16 replies to completion]
"Kyle, hurry up!" Four girls sit on the floor of a dark basement, spread out on a bedsheet, a hot pink Ouija board between them. One of them, a young and cheeky-looking Dr. Quirke—Geri—waves for him to come down the stairs and join the circle. "I thought you didn’t wanna waste time."
"I said this was a waste of time," he hisses back, simultaneously hurrying down the stairs to join the circle anyway. "This place isn’t even haunted."
"We don't know that," a girl with too many butterfly clips in her hair chimes in, motioning for the circle to join her on the pink planchette in the middle of the board. "Ghosts get lost sometimes, and that rumor about meeting God had to come from somewhere."
"Oh, so that rumor last year about you and the hippogri—"
Butterfly Clips pointedly clears her throat at Kyle. "Spirits of the bowling alley," she begins, her voice suddenly much lower because of all the spiritualism in the air or something. "Is anyone here?"
There’s a long silence. The planchette sits motionless on the board. Kyle sighs. Butterfly Clips clears her throat again. "Spirits of the bowling alley. We don’t mean to scare you. Is anyone here?"
"I mean it's almost like there's no gh—" Kyle starts, but he doesn't get to finish. The planchette jerks toward YES. Geri squeaks in surprise. Butterfly Clips sticks her tongue out at Kyle.
"Do you have a name?" she continues, and it kind of seems like she’s still staring directly at Kyle. "What should we call you?"
N O N A M E
U P I C K
"I would be delighted to pick a name for you, spirit," Butterfly Clips replies, placing her free hand to her chest. "I feel a connection with you, and you feel like—"
"Maybe it's the Dude," Kyle deadpans. "Haunts a bowling alley. Room could really use a rug to pull it all together." As a senior in high school in the year 1999, Kyle fucking loves The Big Lebowski. He looks to the girls for recognition of this really great, topical reference.
It's a painful ten seconds before Geri lets out a tentative "ohhhhh" and a half laugh.
"Anyway," Butterfly Clips yanks control of the circle back to her, "what about—"
T H E D U D E T H E D U D E T H E D U D E. The planchette picks out the letters one by one, over and over, circling the board.
"I think he likes it." Kyle sounds smug. "So, Mr. The Dude, what's got you down here? Are there bodies buried in the basement?"
The planchette begins to move again, swirling around the pink spirit board. T R A—
There's a rattle from the top of the stairs. The sticky knob from the basement door. "Shit." With half a second to act, Kyle grabs the Ouija board, planchette and all, and hurls it into the darkness.