DDO 2014 Olympics Super combined Round 1: Story Telling.
Debate Rounds (3)
Thank you lucky for creating a great story with me. Considering that this is part of the Olympics I will automatically assume that you accept the debate and start the story in this round. The only request that I have for this debate is that all asides should take place in bold at the beginning of the rounds or in the comment section. I changed the size of the font to 14 because it's easier to read.
"Ok, I got a joke for you. Two guys and a girl walk into a bar, three couples come out."
"What? That doesn't make any sense. It doesn't even make sense."
"That's because it's a gay joke," John said.
My friend John is so dumb sometimes. He tells me randomcrap like this all the time. It's as if his mind is working on another plane. I'm not sure why we even hang out. Well, I am sure. We hang out due to boredom. At least that's the reason I keep telling myself; and we work together, so our schedules match.
This particular night we were hanging out at the bar drinking a couple of Fat Tires and listening to the random garage band sing their rendition of "Stairway to Heaven." I've heard that song so many times in so many variations, it doesn't even phase me anymore. Maybe, I'll even sing my own version of it the next time we go to karaoke. Nah! The last time I sang Karaoke, John had to drag me off the stage. I was so drunk that night, I didn't care if the whole crowd was booing me. My rap version of Garth Brook's 'The Thunder Rolls,' was impeccable.
It was a bad night for me. My girlfriend dumped me because "I never spent enough time with her." I really think it was because she met a guy at her strip club job. The guy came over a couple of times before we split up in his stupid FIAT. I hate Fiat's. I think if you're going to spend that kind of money on that type of car, get a stupid Mini Cooper. Mini Coopers aren't that much better, they are worthless in the snow and you can't even claim economic advantage anymore. If I was being honest, though that chick was only with me because she needed a place to crash after she broke up with her last boyfriend.
That's when John and me started hanging out. He made some appeal that I needed to get out of the apartment for a few hours, and that it sad for him to see me moping around the office all the time. We went to some retarded strip club, that I had never heard of, in the scummiest part of town you can imagine. I ended up puking all over one of the strippers and we got kicked out. We were nearly arrested. If John hadn't explained the situation to the cops, and some idiot wasn't trying to make crack deal right there in the parking lot, we would have been busted for sure. -At least, that's what he says.
Did both of those things happen on the same night? I don't remember.
That was nearly a year ago. We started out just hanging out on Fridays and grew from there. Monday's we're on the company bowling team. Thursday's we play Call of Duty online. Tuesdays... what do we do on Tuesdays? I guess rent a movie sometimes, order pizza, watch hockey. He sleeps over most days, but cuts out every now and then. I think he still lives with his mom. I don't know for sure, but sometimes he gets phone calls and I hear whispering about clean laundry and eating tofu. He doesn't eat tofu.
So anyways, we're sitting there listening to Fools with Bad Haircuts or whatever the crap their name was and this baddass chick walks in wearing a pleated flower v-neck top, a cheap black skirt, and a pair of sexy as sin mid calf pointed toe boots looking like Beth Reisgraf from Leverage. John looks up and then looks back at me. "She's not your type," he says.
"My type? What the heck is my type?" I ask.
"You know the daddy issues, nobody loves me so I'll sleep with anyone type."
"This is definitely that type," I counter as I strip his beer from his hands and start walking towards her.
I'm going to try and keep my rounds as long as my opponents, for consistency. So that's ~4000 characters at the upper limit. If he wants to go over, I'll match.
"Hey there. I can tell you are new here. You look far too dashing to be a regular at this type of place," I said with my most enchanting voice.
"You're a regular?"
"Regretfully, yes. My friend loves this place. My name is Richard by the way," it was hard to get a reaction from her stone-cold face.
"That's nice." She began to turn around as if to leave.
"What's yours? Do you want a bear? Come sit down."
"You can call me Sky, because I'm way out of your reach." Just like that she left.
With a feeling of defeat in my gut, and surely on my face, I trudged back to the table that John was sitting at.
"Damn man, you got rejected fast. Keep that up and I might have to start calling you Richard Bolt," John laughed far too much at his own jokes.
I remained silent. For once I just wanted to listen to the music. God was it awful though. I'm referring to both the music and the rejection. That girl was fine, but there was also something about the way she spoke. She knew what she was looking for and it was obvious when she walked in that this place wasn't it. Was she so confident that she was too good for me because I was hanging out here? No way. I'm not the most attractive man, but I'm good looking. I'm 5'11", dark haired, lightly tanned and fit. That's pretty much girl code for McDreamy. There had to be some other reason she rejected me. I got out of my seat and darted out the front door. I looked left and right for that girl. It was dark out, but the city lights illuminated the streets. Damn it, it's too crowded. I started walking down the sidewalk and saw the crosswalk light flick on. I figured I would have a better view from the street, so I ran to the center. That's when I saw her getting in a taxi on the other side of the street. Before I could do anything it was driving away.
What do I do? I thougth quickly. I reached into my pockets. I had a pen. This was my lucky day. I scrawled the license plate number onto my hand. JKR 431. She left but now I can track her. I go back into the bar, excited to show my friend this ultimate score.
I hold up my hand proudly. "What is that? If it's supposed to be that girls phone number, you're dumber than I thougt. It has letters in it for petes sake," John chides.
"No, No! It's the liscense plate number of the cab that she got into. We can track it.," I tell him expectently.
"Gawd, I thought it was bad enough when you got tricked, now you tell me you're going to stalk this girl who randomly comes in here, gives you a fake name like Sky and then takes off in a cab. You're off your rocker for real this time." John turns back to the bar. He already has another beer in front of him. "If you want another," he says, "you are going to have to pay for it your self after that stunt you pulled."
I'm not taking no for an answer. I start off quickly, before he can interupt me. "Seriously, this could work. All I have to do is call the cab company and ask for a drivers log."
"No it won't, they can't give you information like that unless you're the police or have a reason."
"I'll call the police and say the car is stolen, or I'll get a job at the cab company and check the log myself. This could really work." I try to explain.
"Look man, I know you've been desperate to find 'The One' ever since that stripper chick left you, but you are really starting to come off as a creepy stalker. Listen to yourself. All of a sudden some bar wench comes in and you are all over yourself to go James Bond just to... What exactly are you going to do if you do find her? Talk to her? That went over really well. You'll probably end up standing outside her apartment waiting to catch a glimpse of her until you finally do, and then you'll be too scared to even walk by her, and then you'll really be a stalker. I'm not buying it dude. Let it be what it was, a random chance meeting." John stops for a moment to take a dring of his beer, "Hell, I'm surprised that you even had the balls to talk to her in the first place."
"OK fine." I rub the scribble off of my hand. Maybe it was a dumb idea. I feel rejected. Not because the girl left so quickly but because John was so quick to shut me down like that. I pull out my car keys. "I'm ready to go, are you coming?" I ask him.
"Yea, I'm ready." he says. He chugs the rest of his beer then grabs a full one off the bar and starts chugging it too. I look at him in confusion. He takes a break half way through. "I knew you were going be all bummed out so I actually did get you one. But you said you're driving, so I'm in." He's such a jerk, but he makes me laugh.
So, the next day, I'm walking up the street to get a cup of frappe smoothie. John is hungover at our apartment, and I kind of have a headache, but I look over and I see Sky standing in the line at McDonalds. She's right flippen there. Looking like a lost child at the plethora of menu items. I didn't have to moonlight as a cabbie. She's right there. I'm not even thinking about it, I just cross the street right there in the middle of the road trying to keep my eye on her in case she moves. It almost gets me run over a couple of times; I'm looking at this girl so hard. She doesn't move, she goes up to the counter, and she starts digging in her purse. Well, she does move, but I can still see her. I cross the parking lot and go in on the drive-thru side, almost getting hit again. She's still digging in her purse.
"Hey, Sky!" I call out, startling nearly everyone in the store. I walk up to the counter, pull out my bill fold and tell the girl at the counter I want to add a large coffee to the order. But, before I can pull out my card and pay for it. Sky slams down 38 cents on the counter.
"I don't need some guy to pay for my drinks." she says and she walks away. I'm not letting her get away this time. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be.
"I'm not implying that you did," I say trying to smooth things over. This is a conversation that usually happens at the bar, not the next morning over breakfast. Well, it's technically not breakfast, but who's making up the dating rules anyways. I keep talking. I'm trying to be suave, but I'm sure it's probably a dead on performance from Alladin. "So, about last night, you just came in the bar and left with out saying anything."
Sky turned and finally realized who I was. "Oh my, it's you again."
"Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot last night. Why don't we sit down at a booth and talk over breakfast?"
She looked reluctant but agreed to eat breakfast with me. I tried to make small talk, "So, what do you do?"
"I'm a student at Colombia University."
"No way! My friend John said that you were an easy girl. I told him there was something special about you."
Sky looked disgusted, "You are a creep. Already talking as if you know who I am."
"Look, I'm trying to find out who you are. Why are you being so standoffish?"
"I already have a boyfriend, okay?" And with that, Sky stormed out.
I brought breakfast back to John. "Man, that sucks. I'm sorry to hear that happened agian. I'm telling you, she is no good man."
"It's okay. Maybe you are right. Maybe I have been desperate since my last girlfriend."
"You know what you need? You need to rebound. No strings attached, just some good ole fun. Tonight we're going clubbing. I'm going to call all of the guys and have them come. We're going to have a heck of a time.
Sorry that this round is short, something came up. I'll make up for it next round.
John and I went out to our usual spot that night. We were having an awesome time. Dudes with Bad Haircuts were there and apparently they had a new electric guitarist who had just shredding it all night. We were jumping around drinking beers taking shots, passing out shots, the ladies were flocking to us. This is exactly what I needed to get that stuck up blond out of my mind. 8 drinks in, this fool challenges John and me to play beer pong.
John and I are awesome at beer pong. I think these guys know it, are reading us as drunk, and want us to pay for their beer. But that doesn't matter, a challenge is a challenge, and nobody backs down from a beer pong challenge. So we're headed over to the beer pong table and John has to go to the bathroom. As I'm sitting there waiting for the bartender to bring the pitcher and get the cups, guess who walks in. You got it. Sky. Who's the stalker now? This is absurd. I didn't expect it. The bar tender finally bring the beer and sets it on the counter. I'll get it later. Sky is here.
So, I walk over to her and stab her. I don't know how many times. I just keep stabbing her. Everyone is looking, she is screaming, it's all null to me. I'm just thinking over and over, I hate being rejected. I hate being rejected. Suddenly I stop. I look around, the band isn't playing the bouncer is standing there looking dumbfounded, no one is moving. I don't know if it was instinct or a higher power compelling me, but I bolted for the door and started running down the street as fast as I could. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew that I had to get there. I wish John was there to see it.
"IN THE NEWS TODAY, SKY JOHNSON WAS BRUTALLY STABBED AND MURDERED BY HER BOYFRIEND AT A NIGHTCLUB IN THE CITY LAST NIGHT. WITNESSES SAY THAT SHE AND HER MURDERER RICHARD WRONGPATH FREQUENTED THE CLUB TOGETHER OFTEN AND WERE COMMONLY KNOWN AS AN EXPERT BEER PONG TEAM. WITNESSES ALSO SAY THEY NOTICED RICHARD AND SKY HAVING FIGHTS IN THE PAST COUPLE OF WEEKS OVER CLAIMS THAT SHE WAS CHEATING ON RICHARD. SEVERAL WITNESSES ALSO REPORTED THAT THEY COMPELLED MRS. JOHNSON TO LEAVE RICHARD DUE TO HIS REGULAR DRUNKEN AND OBNOXIOUS BEHAVIOR. SKY HOWEVER ALWAYS PLAYED THE LOVING GIRLFRIEND AND OFTEN ACCOMPANIED HIM TO THE APERMENT THEY SHARED IN THE DOWN TOWN AREA. MR. WRONGPATH IS CONSIDERED TOBE AT LARGE AND DANGEROUS. IF YOU SEE HIM CALL THE POLICE IMMEDIATELY. POLICE ARE SPECULATING THAT HE MAY HAVE A PSYCHOLOGICAL DISORDER KNOWN AS PROJECTIVE DISSOCIATIVE DISORDER IN WHICH HE PROJECT PEOPLE AS HAVING MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES. CALL 911 IF YOU ENCOUNTER THIS MAN."
Lucky_Luciano forfeited this round.
1 votes has been placed for this debate.
Vote Placed by SeventhProfessor 2 years ago
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Reasons for voting decision: Both made hilarious spelling mistakes ("Do you want a bear"), so no points for that. Con got a good amount of dialogue without overdoing it, and Pro was at least 7/8 dialogue. This, combined with Pro's use of only direct and never indirect characterization means args go to Con.
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