Favorite lines from your own writing

''I never imagined that there was anyone stronger than me in this whole world. And how could there be? My whole life was violence and fighting; I took lives as easy as the rest of you drew breath. It was my sword-arm that dragged us out of that shit-hole and up to the surface where we had a chance of survival. But...for you to conquer me just a few half-hearted mumbles...you of all people! It felt like the whole world was going mad."

I wish you still wanted to have sex with me, and I'm sorry I've gotten so fat that laying me flat on my back with a matchbox car at my navel does nothing to debunk the theory of gravity. But I've found that if I stick a marble in my belly button and walk around a bit, it'll stay there for a solid twenty minutes.

God, I miss being able to see my own penis when I look down, though.

The skyscraper sized dragon flew near enough to Jupiter that he could see what was happening within the terraformed base present there.

All four of his eyes widened as he observed the fact that his forces were all vanquished and the motley group of inter-universal heroes were escaping with the items that Parallaxus had wanted.

In one lapse of maturity, Parallaxus breathed out a stream of white-hot destruction upon Jupiter, the entire planet starting to ripple and explode outward from the impact site going further and further. And further and further still, glowing lines breaking across the entire gigantic planet.

Lord Eclipse immediately went from smug and assured of the heroes' demises to gawking, he had known Parallaxus was powerful, but to destroy an entire planet within thirty seconds. He was glad he observed from upon the great beast's back.

When the heroes ultimately were just teleported out by the assistance of their allies, as Jupiter finally exploded outwards, the giant dragon was left flying there, where a planet used to be.

His only words for what just happened? "I just did an oops."

But in this city, streets run across each other, neat as grid paper. And in colour-crammed laneways, scowling businessmen sit for lunch. In winter, it rains sideways, and all the city sorts, from penniless artists to stiletto-clad middle-aged women, follow this grid up and down in over-packed trams. Because like all cities, Melbourne is full. Filled with people; with lives and drama and urban vitality. To an outsider, it’s like so many other cities, but to all those children whom these streets raised, everywhere else is second rate, mocking what a city should be.

Jane rung the bell on the counter and waited for the teller to arrive. She waited several seconds and rang it again. "I'm comin' I'm a comin'!" She heard a voice from the room on the other side of the counter. Suddenly a python rose up from behind the counter. "Gah! Your... A snake." Jane said in surprise. "Dang right I am! Now what can I do for ya ma'am?" Jane shook off the initial shock of this talking snake. "Yess, I would like to make a sssmall withdrawl." The snake just looked at her with what could only be called a condescending stare. "Now listen here little missy, are we gonna do business or are we just gonna stereotype each other?" The snake told her. Jane was taken aback. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I just want to take twenty five out of my account." Trying her best to sound apologetic. "Of course ma'am, do you want that in cash or bananas?" The snake told her. Jane gave an annoyed huff. "That wasn't very funny." She said.

P2: Do I look like I have private health cover, though?

P1: I don’t think private health cover even has a look about it. Anyway, you’re wearing a suit. (beat) Why are you wearing a suit?

P2: It was $100 from Lowes. I thought it would look cool.

P1: It’s too small for you, it makes you look fat.

P2: Right.

P1: Well, fatter, really. But the colour suits you.

"Help *you*? Heck no. That's like renting Friday the 13th and rooting for the annoying teenagers."

"Your armor is unfamiliar, but designs to war are apparent to any who care to look. And are you a great champion, little mouse?"

This is where our alchemist lives. Right now, he sits in his crumbling, unloved little terrace house. The white walls aren’t really white anymore and the iron lacework is slowly turning green. The stairs groan and the windows whistle, but the fact that his house is slowly collapsing is not so important to him right now.

A pair of cops in Salt Lake City Utah walked along. The younger cop supposed there were worse jobs to be doing in this line of work.

And the man responsible for this crisis could be doing a lot worse.

Following the decision to label Pornography a National Health Crisis, something apparently snapped in Ein Woe.

The malign clown promptly rampaged across Utah, distributing pornography everywhere - outright tossing it around everywhere - and even shooting a young Mormon Elder with a rolled up Playboy magazine right in the face.

The elected officials were in panic - there was a move to call Ein Woe Public Enemy Number 1, and these two cops were just a part of an effort to "contain and eliminate the demon clown threat".

There had even been an attempt by Colorado's Klingenschmitt to exorcise Woe from the state...but that hadn't ended well for Klingenschmitt. Something about a pea soup cannon.

As it stood there was; 1) a criminal clown 2) a lot of porn all over the place and 3) not a lot the state police could do about it, given Woe never seemed capable of being cornered.

Though, the young cop pondered as he looked at another piece of "filth" Woe had distributed, this had its benefits.

"My parents start to get angry [that I don't have a fiance yet]. But... it's just... there doesn't seem to be anyone I'd find interesting in this country."
Souse wasn't quite certain what to do about it. He must be tired, he thought, trying to understand what Lerant was thinking, confessing to him like that. And what could Souse tell him, anyway?
"You should start insulting them."
"Insulting whom?" Lerent turned to him in surprise.
"The noblewomen. If you insult them, they'll tell their friends, and no-one will want to be with you. You won't be bothered by them anymore."
Lerent sighed, irritated.
"I'm of o'Lannaises. I can't insult the nobility of my own country."
"Pff. This whole 'being a prince' seems hardly worth the effort. Hey, if you can't find a fitting noblewoman, maybe try some peasants? You'll sure have more to chose from."
Lerent stared at him in silence.

"The first thing to hit him as he entered the room was the distinctive, cheesey odour of infection. Then blood. Machine oil. Scorched meat. Then sounds. Mechanical whirring. Breathless, frantic chewing, swallowing, slavering, like a starving man at a four-course meal. Finally, stepping into the light, a nightmare visage. Approximately half of a caribou, crudely welded, bolted, or nailed to several bulky machines . A camera jammed into an eye socket, surrounded by blisters and solder. A nailgun bolted to his elbow, replacing his forearm entirely. A loathsome, glowering engine lodged in his belly. Perhaps, worst of all, he could still recognize the ravaged face, glaring with unabashed hate...

"Thorvald?"

Plus, his 49 years and his 147 kilograms served as passive aggressive post-it notes from Death, waiting for him on the bathroom mirror every time he went to take a shower: Have a nice day, Declan! The clock is ticking :)

Matthew quizically tilted his head at the revelation by the Norse Mage. "Really. You decided to make the infamously explosive magical rock into jewelry?"

Odin shook his head, likewise unable to believe what went on here, "Honestly, Dajni, you're fired. I don't even want to end your miserable life. Just...leave. Leave. This was the stupidest idea I've ever had the displeasure of hearing."

At 7:32 PM, Abby Corcoran heard several thuds.

There was the car door, then the front door, then the fridge door, then a heavy body falling into one of the kitchen chairs.

“No schoolyard gossip?”

Abby didn’t care much for petty drama, but for some odd reason, Declan did. Especially when her classmates were involved. So, to humour him, she found herself devouring all the gossip she could find.

“Chantelle has a new boyfriend.”

“Does she? How many has that been, now?”

“Her third boy this year.”

“Jesus Christ.”

There was a moment of content silence, the likes of which the Corcorans rarely had. Declan and Abby knew silence to be something tense, heavy with unspoken things. So they let this silence last longer than it probably should have.

The old man watched the teenagers enjoying their little trip out here, having their fun, their vulgarity and profane attitudes making even him purse his lips at some points. Even though the stereotype would be a large number of student athletes, while there were a few there, they were among the worse.

The old man went back into his old boat, and saw his two con men standing around rather than mingling.

The tall and skinny one asked, "So, uh, boss, what're you gonna do with these guys? Gettin' em drunk for some kind of scam?"

"Sell them." The old man chuckled, the smell of brimstone filling the air, "The most of them do not look it, but they're terrible. Bad is an understatement. They're animals. And I'm going to make sure the inside matches the outside."

The fat and short one asked, "W-Whaddaya mean, boss?"

The old man grinned in an odd, malign way, "You give these teenagers enough rope and they'll fashion a noose for themselves. Let an animal go, and it'll prove itself an animal." The hints toward what was to come were starting, "Have you fine fellows ever watched Pinocchio?"

The tall one stepped back, "You're not..."

"I am." The brimstone stench became worse at once as the Prince of Demands' eyes took on a pitch black look, "No 'bad boy' ever leaves my island as anything but the beast he is inside. None will truly mourn them. They were all after all beasts."

Outside the monsters of the Defilement Marquis called "Demands" waited, large, barbaric howler monkeys with bat wings crowned upon their backs.

The fat and short one shook in pure fear, "I-I-I didn't sign on to do no devil's work!"

The Prince only chuckled lightly, "The devil, shall we say, is in the details. You did indeed sign on to do "all manner of devilry". You only saw the payroll of 500,000 dollars. Truly, greed is a Sin which, as with the Glotoneria of those animals, never fails to astonish."

It was starting now.

He could hear screams fading into animal whines.

And it brought the Dark Lord a true smile.

Nowadays, to speak his name was to accompany it with head shakes and sighs. The day would come soon enough that they’d find his piss-covered corpse in a public toilet, and the nation would erupt in a collective cry of “gone too soon!”. The city would organize a public funeral, attended by colleagues, distant relations, politicians, celebrities and whatever cake-faced tart Argyros was dating at the time.

"'The meaning of this', you mindless barbarian, is a double-cross. You think I'd betray my kind for yours? When it came time to collect my reward, all I'd get is a knife in the back. I *can* read, you know."