Pyrtlewing's Story Engine

Once upon a time on Furry there was this little side room to the Owlhaven, and in this little room stood THE STORY ENGINE, a simple little gadget that let users add lines to what was supposed to be a continuing story.
One fine day the owner (Pyrtlewing) disappeared, and as far as we know all her possessions with her. Fortunately I had logged the "story" to see if I could clean up the pretty massive block of text a bit. The loss of the original gave me one more excuse for converting the log into a web page.
As you can tell if you know my characters, I was the one who started the writing. This was some time after I had found the machine empty and it had stayed like that for a while. (Apparently some of the later writers also thought there was no story to add to yet, so they "added" a new start instead...)

Anyway, here is the story as far as it got. Writer names in the left column, what they wrote in the right. In a few places someone made two additions in a row; they have been merged together in one cell with a separator bar.

[If you think this looks pretty chopped up and want to read something that at least looks a bit more like an ordinary (?) story, try this version.]

Pyrtlewing looked at her machine and sighed. Still no entries... <g>

Not knowing what he was doing, Jonathan spun the magic wand on the oaken
table and watched as it created a rainbow.

Looking through the rainbow he caught a brief glimpse of Py wondering what
happened to continuity.

Knowing he had to do something he gathered his things and set out.

The road was long and the path rocky. But he carried on, his hope the
heaviest thing that he carried.

One day he met an old man. "Have you seen the Continuity?" he asked

"It is quite interesting. Nothing that enters the Continuity is the same
when it leaves." The old man nodded and faded out.

Jonathan shook his head, "I do wish people would stop doing that." Sighing
he continued on his journey.

Jonathan drew out a stale biscuit and a slice of what was possibly cheese.
After a fierce internal battle, he decided to eat it. Several minutes later
he was scouring the area trying to find a patch of those hallucinogenic
mushrooms he had spotted earlier, because that sure as Hades *hadn't* been
cheese, and the visions brought on by the mushrooms couldn't possibly have
been as bad as the ones he was having now. (And anyway, the mushrooms gave
him a nice buzz.)

Meanwhile, others had also embarked on their quest for continuity. The
whole world was going crazy, and a lot of people were starting to notice.

Yet, few people really cared. Most of the sane took up jobs as
Psychiatrists and were making a bundle off of this mass confusion and
hysteria. The crazy who had stayed at home, despite the ridicule, were more
than happy to throw their hard earned cash at anyone who claimed to heal
the fractured mind.

Meanwhile, on the road to OZ. Jonathan kept feeling this desire to sing
about lollipops and munchkins. His head was still buzzing from the cheese,
that wasn't, and his stomach had begun to do somersaults, half back twists,
and other impossible manuevers.

Clouds partially obscured the setting sun, flaring red and shading outward
to blue and then black in the darkening sky. Jagged rocks stood silhouetted
against the fading light, black and forbidding, and painful; her already
aching knees complained each time she clambered a little further upward.

In the lamplight, the statue's gentle curves glimmered faintly with the sheen of silk. Its stone polished by years, perhaps decades of lapping seawater, there was little resemblence to what it might once have been, only suggestions of eyes, one, almost miraculously, still bearing a sparkling chip of green stone, and the four-legged form of some animal, its ears and other features long since worn away.
Too weak to carry on, bent double in the gloom she sank to the ground,
hands encircling the foot of the statue for comfort.

Almost like some ill temparted child the wind tugged at her clothes, chills
playing up her arms as she held the statue. Warmth started to fill her from
the statue as the single green chip glowed with life. Once again she was
able to sit up on her own there in the gloom, looking up to the old art.

Jonathan watched as the moon began to rise majestically over the peaks, her
silvery light lending an air of fantasy to the surrounding landscape.
Leaning back, into the statue, she was surprised to feel warm flesh at her
back. Spinning around in surprise she found that where the statue had been
standing, was now a beautiful young woman, and a grinning fox.

As the young woman placed her hands on either side of Jonathan's head, a
feeling of peace and strength filled her. After a few minutes, the fox
"Hail and well met, young traveler. The road ahead is long and filled with
many dangers. If you keep your goal always in your mind and never falter,
then you have a very good chance of success. What little advice that I may
impart to you, you may not like."

Jonathan was not listening, he/she was too busy wondering what had happened
to his/her pronouns halfway through the story.

[A brief note: Observe that the instructions say "To add a new LINE". I think we're just supposed to add one or two lines each, not whole chapters...]
Jonathon woke with a start and looked around. The statue was still a statue
and there were no talking foxes either.

Sighed with relief. It was all just a dream, and he was greatly relieved.
He stood up and started picking up his pack. He froze. What was that? Fox

Yes, fox tracks! (dramatic chord) And not only that, but a pair of wolf
tracks as well, chasing the fox tracks in circles before suddenly coming to
a stop at where the statue now stood. Jonathon blinked and studied the
statue carefully. Sure enough, it had changed...

It was at this crucial moment Pyrtlewing decided to get back into the story
after getting written out in the first line.

Pyrtlewing screamed out to anyone who was around or left alive to listen,
"What the flying furry triple-distilled bejeezus is going on around

Jonathon jumped and turned around. "Geez lady, do you have to scream like


Jonathon frowned. He got some ear plugs out of his pack and put them in his
ears (Where else?).
"Okay," he said, turning to face the irate gryphon again. "You were
screaming, uh saying?"

Suddenly a mysterious raven flew in, and launched sidewinder missiles at
all of them, and ate lucky charms, listening to the clash. He screamed,
"DISCORDIANS FOREVER, or at least for a few more minutes."

As the ethereal mysterious creature entered looking around softly with
stars shining in the background you'd swear it was real but she vanished
only an illusion you really were on LSD.

The mysterious raven looked around, and wondered why his last entry was

Suddenly, Pyrtlewing declared, "if you propose to someone through mail... I think a response by mail is appropriate. I mean, its good that the other person likes the ring, but a yes or no would be even better.
Pyrtlewing got up and said, "Shut up, whoever you are!" He then beat him to
a plulp for being a green-peaceing, communist faggot.

Pyrtlewing vows to build the EDITOR engine ( "We regret that your
submission does not meet our current needs. Thank you." )

And so, our hero, having slain the the gigantic, hideous, fire spewing mail
man with his great diamond blade, frees the impossibly beautiful vulpine
princess, flies off with her in a mystical doggie dish into the slowly
setting sun and produces a planet sized population of young in their modest
little cabin on the third moon of Mars. However, his life of constant bliss
is brought to an abrupt and screaching halt one sunny day, for while
collecting firewood in the endless desert he glanced up and to his suprise
spotted the evil Napa and Vegita rapidly descending from the heavens. GREAT

Suddenly Vegita and Napa are swept away by... a giant chicken who just
happens to by flying by and mistook them for food! They run about blasting
at the chicken all to no avail as the chicken continues pecking at them
repeatedly wanting a snack!

Like a metal praying Mantis, the irrigation frame slowly stalked around the
circle. Sprays of rainbow lit water misted downwards. Here and there a
black missile flew through the artifical rain. Scattering droplets.

The black missile dived upwards, then spread its wings as it propellered down and perched on a support beam; a crow. Unlike the robins who spent their days busily feeding, the crow quickly finished the food gathering thing and spent the rest of the day playing around as crows are wont to do.
As the night came down over the crows like a blanket of stars, Gerault
stalked through the fields. Being an orphan and homeless, it was Gerault's
only comfort to borrow under the bushes and roll in the cool grass of the
open space.

He would burrow into the bushes like a mole into the ground, which as
everybody knows has poor eyesight. So a lot of mole eye doctors have
cropped up in the past decade. Brady just happened to be one of those mole
eye doctors. he was examining a young patient's eyes one day when he became
suddenly lost in the blue sea before him, like staring into the night sky
at the constellations...

Brady stared at the images which swam in the mole's blue cornea. Images of
a park with creatures tall, short and wide. A dizzying motion zoomed in on
the interior of a wood paneled lounge, the walls hung with odd portraits.
Various beings sat patiently in padded chairs and pallets waiting for
someone to ascend the podium and begin Short Short Story night...

He gazed at the ground his brown eyes red from the tears that fell, tears
that where shed in fury reflecting the cold, blue, beaming light that
smoldered deep in his eyes like a hateful fire that gave no heat or
comfort. He clenched his teeth as he spoke to the fates that brought him to
this moment to gods that didn't exist or would listen, to his own heaving
soul. "I have been called a thief, a coward, a hero, a friend. I have been
known as a fool, a dreamer, a lover, a loser. I will bear it. Here I stand
on the edge of yesterday and tomorrow and I plan to hurl myself over the
precipice beyond the void... I am pain, I am grief, I am mourning...
With a clenched fist his drew his eyes... eyes that spoke volumes even when
silent, pools of agony and sadness, up towards the heavens and screamed. He
screamed at the firmament with all his fury, a sum of all the hatred and
rage that seethed in his tortured soul, and shook his fist at the stars, "I
am implacable! Iam unstoppable! I will cry out my warsong and it..."

"Keep it down, I'm trying to sleep" cried an irate mole, who in fact was
not trying to sleep but to play a tune on a very expensive wineglass.
Brandy studied his reflection in the bowl of the glass, then gritted his
teeth to make a funny face.

Just then, an Irate Mole In A Badger Suit called out, "If you keep makin'
that face, it'll stick thet way!" It then walked off to go make music with
its friend, but heard the breaking of a glass. Instead, the IMIABS fell
over and went to sleep, dreaming happy IMIABS dreams.

Jonathan shooks his head, trying to rid himself of the bad LSD trip he was
having, but that didn't help. Instead he ran to the nearest cliff, thinking
that it was a swimming pool and that he was being chased by angry moles and
foxes with large missles, jumped off.

And a bit later Py jumped off the MUCK and took the engine with her. If anyone should want to continue the story or start a new one, drop me or Yip a note and I'll try to think of something.

Coming soon(?): The Round Robin Board "untangled".