Anonymous
Anonymous asked in Entertainment & MusicComics & Animation · 9 years ago

what is the most random story you can come up with that include these items?

the story can be completely un realistic and make no sense at all :D but it most include this.....

1. A platter of rainbow sushi

2. A narwhal (or many narwhals)

3. An emotional disturbed clown that creeps people out

4.a glowing, flying puzzle piece

5. An Igloo

The best story will be picked as the best answer :) This should be fun....

3 Answers

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  • Anonymous
    9 years ago
    Best answer

    Here in the future, many things have changed or been reinvented. It is a new time. KanSa kills and LyFE brings you back. Gorillas do most of the physical labor and ever since president Bash outlawed sports for humans they have taken their place entertaining us in once predominately human activities. Tonight we are watching The Carolina Panthers, who are actually gorillas, take on the Atlanta Falcons, who are also gorillas. My father is a GNFL [gorilla national football league] freak. He loves the game, along with most other people. Everyone is into gorilla sports. After the turn of the last century it was deemed unsophisticated and animalistic to play barbaric sports. Therefore it is only acceptable to watch animals play them.

    You see, we are a family of Narwhals. We are the most elite of all humans and live as such. We live underground in the most elegant and modern cities. Our cities are networked together through an Immense geo-1000G platform. The internet, or "ThoughtNet" as we call it, has transformed our lives into a cyber universe. We now program and live out our own destiny's through a simple thought based interface. If you think it. It happens. We have linked our very minds with the world wide web. This all started after our ancestors, basic humans or land dwellers as we call them, began only eating rainbow sushi. They began to grow smarter. One day, thousands of years ago, the king of the new world order tried a piece of sushi from a platter that had been imported from goldilocks, a distant life bearing planet. He began to have visions. His IQ began to skyrocket and within a matter of days he had invented 56 new devices to improve human productivity and creative drive. He encouraged everyone to try the new brain food and before long the next step in human evolution had occured. Soon super genius humans began to break away and begin their own scientific and electronic studies underground. They became known as the Narwhals. Here I am sitting with my family watching GNFL, a 700th generation Narwhal, putting together this mental puzzle. I have millions of brain networked friends who i keep in touch with whenever i remember to 'think chat' them. Earlier my friend, An Igloo, that's his name, think chatted me and asked if i'd like to help him with this stupid puzzle and i agreed. every time i put a new puzzle piece up on ThoughtNet i take a break to watch the game and forget all about it until a glowing, flying puzzle piece comes into my Peripheral and reminds me i have to keep working on the lame thing to amuse him. An Igloo is a really stupid Narwhal. He's always trying to do the scariest or most illegal things to make money. One time he pretended to be homeless in the basic human lands above ground dressed as a clown who bummed around larger cities acting as an emotionally disturbed entertainer who out of work. You'll never meet someone who's had KanSa, a new and much more deadly form of prehistoric cancer, as many times as An Igloo either. He has been brought back by the cure, LyFE, more times than i can remeber. All is good in the future though. We are chill.

    Source(s): I'm drunk.
  • 9 years ago

    fed up with modicum of question on yahoo answers i decided to take a walk, the weather was perfect i could feel the warm sunshine on my face a cool wind blowing through the trees, walking though town i couldn't help but notice a building shaped like an igloo with a sign above the entrance a giant narwhal intrigued i went in seeing it was a sushi restaurant, i sat i hadn't eaten all day and my stomach was complaining rather loudly, a friendly looking waiter with smiling eyes strolled over with a platter of rainbow sushi, yum-mo i said and chowed down, all of a sudden i felt a chill the type you get when someone is glaring at you, glancing around my surroundings i could see the reason for this sitting there eating his own plate of rainbow sushi was a clown. i could see that he was creeping out everyone around him, looking away i tried to eat the rest of my food i hated clowns they totally freaked me out this one looked emotionally disturbed. they all do a permanent smile always adorning their lips no one really knowing whats going on inside... glancing up again from my food i was startled to see the clown was standing in front of me, holding out his hand in it a glowing, puzzle piece was flying above his hand as if attached to a string. 'wake up' he said.. confused i started to ask him what he meant only to be cut off. 'wake up idiot your drooling on the table! wake up!' the clown shouted and suddenly i was falling ...

    yeah it was supposed to be a dream or whatever thanks for distracting me for 10 minutes...

    Source(s): choose the other answer ^ i also am drunk but they have much better punctuation
  • Anonymous
    9 years ago

    In an Igloo, somewhere in the stretches of Nunavut, in the heart of winter, sits a man, eating fish scraps, mixed with the final leftover Lucky Charms. Not without humor, he calls the taste-bud-torturing dish "Rainbow Sushi".

    Nine months ago, he had been Bradley Garrett, an e-journalist working for the New York Times, stationed in Toronto. Every day was the same - trawling the Net for news, verifying, cross-referencing, sending short articles to the head office. Until finally, something happened.

    He had dozed off and it spoke to him. He knew it had not been a dream. The memory had burned itself into his head like red-hot railspikes. He saw its blazing outline whenever he closed its eyes. He had drowned out its dentist drill voice with loud music until the batteries of his radio ran out.

    The Piece. He had seen it pull itself free from the wall and in the void that was left, he had seen the gruesome Behind. The howling madness outside reality.

    Except it wasn't reality at all. He now knew it was just a persistent illusion, shielding the soft and fragile minds of humanity from a truth too terrifying to face.

    The piece. It had escaped. Just one piece, escaped from its appointed place in the puzzle guarding all their minds. Somehow, it had been his fault. He had to get it back. He had experienced for himself what just a single gaze at the void beyond could do. He saw it whenever he closed his eyes. He had not slept in eight days.

    Just one look had tainted him. Burned part of his mind before he could escape the room, chase after the escaped piece. He'd lost it in the hallway and he had broken down and cried and cried and cried.

    He had done whatever he could. He had locked the door and boarded it up with nails. But it was only a matter of time. He had to get the puzzle piece back, but elated at its newfound freedom, it had flown off, dancing and flittering like a dayglo butterfly, vanishing in the distance, as he screamed and begged for it to come back.

    After the initial despair became black acceptance he had dressed up his taint, his scars, to warn others: Unclean! He had become a spiritual leper. He had to warn others to stay away from him. He had carefully chosen - a clown's suit. A clown, a sad, saddening loser, painted white as death, a mocking parody of a smile drawn in blood red across a crying face. His ragged, colorful clothes bright like warning signs. Unclean!

    What could he do? He stayed in the building to keep others away from the door until the other tenants had him removed in spite of his pitiful protestations. He had walked down the street crying in despair. Any second, the Outside, the terrible Truth could break through and make clowns of them all. No, worse - being a shattered clown would seem a desirable state of being once the terrible bleak light of reality shone on Earth.

    And then, suddenly, there was hope. Now he was outside the building, he could hear what he could not before: a reed-thin wail, a siren-song outside the reach of human hearing. But he could hear it - it was pulling at the strings of his soul.

    The puzzle piece was not entirely gone. It had gone far, but not beyond human reach.

    Maybe he could still get it. Maybe he could still return it.

    He had to try. If there was even a tiniest sliver of a chance he could put things right.

    He had gathered the funds he still had access too and made arrangements. Air travel companies will still transport clowns if you pay them enough. North. He had to go North.

    He was so afraid the piece would fly off again, but it seemed to remain in a single location.

    After thirty days, he was as close as he could get. And here, his hope was struck dead.

    Ocean. The call came out from somewhere on the Northern Sea. Open sea. Standing on the very edge of the ice, he called, he shouted. The piece, wherever it was, would not come, but just kept singing its song. He howled and wept, tears freezing. Clown at midnight, the perpetual dark of winter in the North.

    What could he do? Nobody would take a boat out there. Even the Inuit had moved to the city for winter. He had nobody to help him.

    Nobody? They had come to him, asking him why he wailed and cried. He had explained, and for the first time, somebody had understood. They had realized what humans could not or would not face: that this concerned all minds on Earth. The piece had to return.

    They had not lost a second. All of them, their mighty sleek bodies, shooting off like missiles in the dark water, had sworn to look for the piece until one of them had found it. That had been three days ago.

    And, an hour ago, the piece's song had suddenly changed its pitch. And he dared hope again. He would finish his rainbow sushi and he would stand out on the ice and wait at the border of the dark sea, hoping, praying.

    But no matter what, whether they would succeed or not, humanity would owe a debt of gratitude to the narwhals.

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