I've been reading a lot of BP posts that were funny and/or sweet because of their plot twists. The main one that comes to mind is 50 Nerds of Grey! Just have fun!
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(Note: This is a work of fiction!)
One day, when I was very young, mother sat me down, saying she had something to tell me. I left my toy police car in the middle of its chase and went to sit in her lap. She then told me that years before I was born, she was expecting my brother. But, she told me, my brother became very sick before he was born, so God decided to invite him back to heaven before he could suffer after being born.
I was quiet because I saw mother looked sad and was about to cry, but I was filled with questions. Would I meet him someday? Could he come visit us? What games would he like to play?
From that day, whenever I took out my toys to play, I took out another one and put it next to me, just in case brother came and wanted to play too. Sometimes I’d pretend to leave the room and peer back in to see if anything happened. Months went by, but I never gave up. I’d even talk out loud as if he was listening, and when I asked him something and didn’t get a response, I’d pretend he was shy.
One night, I was having a terrible nightmare, and started crying in my sleep. I woke up to someone snuggling me. From what I felt, it was a boy who seemed to be a few years older than me. Slightly confused, I asked him who he was and why he was here. He told me his name was Jason and that I was always so nice to him and that’s why he wanted to help me.
He snuggled me until I went to sleep, and in the morning I awoke to being alone in the room. Later that day, I told mother that a boy named Jason came to me at night and hugged me. She looked shocked and then started crying. I felt bad and started apologizing, but she took me and hugged me tight.
That day I learned my brother’s name was Jason.
( I'm writing a book but rn I'm out of ideas so I'll wing it so I don't give out my book idea)
Jonas Cola sat alone in the living room, reading " The Teeth, In Theaters " to himself. Minutes later his friend Jona Pepsi came I'm holding a paper titled " How to get out of the friend zone". Jona walks over to Jonas and sighed. Jonas held up a finger. " I already told you the Cola and Pepsi don't mix. Don't try me." Jona looks hurt and replies, " I was GOING to say I needed advice. I think I'm in love with Amanda Mento."
That day, Pepsi died and Jonas continues to mourn his spilled insides.
The man in the suit paced in front of Alex in the living room, keeping her frozen in place. She knew she had to put it off and she really needed more time. She had just gone to college, and now, she regretted being near a table. The water bubbled behind her.
"Well, well, well." Said the man, suddenly stopping and glaring at her. Alex was too scared to mention that they were near an aqueduct. "Your time is up! You should've brought a pen!"
"What if I don't listen?" Alex knew this man, but couldn't place him, exactly.
"Because I'm your worst nightmare!" He said, smiling mischievously.
"Tax collector?" Alex guessed.
The man curled his lip in either disappointment or distaste.
"I chose this place to put you at...ease. I'm surprised you don't remember your calculus teacher." His evil grin grew wider. "It made this meeting derivative."
Alex sighed at her old teacher's bad joke. She really hadn't liked calculus.
Jackson was playing with his imaginary friend Brian when he hear a noise(Continued in comments)
He turned around but thought nothing of it. A woman came up and said Brian it's time to give up your imaginary friend. Then Jackson started fading. For it wasn't Brian who was imaginary. It was HIM
Jackson was playing with his imaginary friend Brian when he hear a noise(Continued in comments)
There was a spider on CJs face. He tried to seat it bu- Hey where'd the spider go?
Once, there was girl, who couldn't figure out what to write for a Bored Panda article. She loved to write, and had so many ideas, but how could she put them into words? What should she choose? should she write a thriller about a girl, home-alone? Or the child who has just watched her parents murdered? What about a small town, where super natural things keep happening? Maybe an out of context argument that leaves readers on a cliff hanger? She had so many ideas, but couldn't make up her mind! In the end, she never made a decision- but could the BP members help her in the comments?
Never trust the Djinni. Everyone knows that. Oh, they can’t lie, but they will twist your tongue and weave their words until truth it’s self is slave to their every whim- but I had to try anyway.
Rumors said that if you knocked on the cliff face just so, a Djinn would emerge and grant your wish. Of course, everyone knows you can’t trust rumors either.
And yet… here I stood.
It was a clear night with no moon and the wind from the South. Just like the rumors said. I took out the bag of silver scrapings I had taken from the market earlier, braced myself, and gently blew them onto the cliff. At first, nothing happened. I cursed my stupidity, and turned to leave, but a brilliant flash stopped me in my tracks.
I turned to see golden writing etch itself upon the cliff before me, in an ancient language: لا التماس.
Breathless with sudden hope, along with fear, I stepped forward, and hesitantly knocked three times on the rough stone. Hardly had I finished knocking when an enormous shaking and crashing rose around me, and a great cloud of golden smoke seeped from the cliff face and condensed into the form of an enormous woman.
Her skin was shimmering bronze, her eyes the white-gold of lightning, and her long, braided hair was a dark, lustrous amber, nearly black. I trembled and fell to my knees as she peered down at me, with an expression of great distaste.
“𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙡? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩?” She finally said. “𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙤?”
“P-please, great one, I beg of you, help me!” I stammered fearfully. “I only ask one thing.”
“𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣!” She said irately.
“It-it’s my… cat,” I say, cheeks burning. “She’s due to have kittens any day now, but I’m worried she won’t make it- please, make sure she and her babies are safe!”
The Djinn blinked at me for a moment, a smile beginning to form, and finally said, laughing, “𝙊𝙝, 𝙢𝙮! 𝘼 𝙘𝙖𝙩! 𝙊𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙄 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝.”
I blink, startled, at her, then tentatively say, “That’s it? No ominous side effects, curses, or deadly consequences? N-not that I want any!”
She laughs again, a great, booming sound that echoes across the valley. “𝙉𝙤, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡! 𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧!”
Props to anyone who translates the ‘ancient writing’ (it’s Arabic btw)
A Choose Your Own Adventure!
You step outside on a beautiful autumn morning. You see the ground is covered in leaves, and you say to yourself, “I guess I need to start raking.”
Suddenly you are approached by man. A strange man with a wild look in his eyes. He twists his mustache and says, “Don’t bother yourself, good sir. You can hire my men to do it for you.”
“I’m not really sure it’s in my budget right now to pay other people to rake my lawn,” you reply.
He smiles. “Oh, but we have a machine. The machine does all of the work, so it costs little.”
This piques your interest. “A machine? That sound wonderful!”
“Oh, it is! It is! But…” His smile fades. “There is a catch.”
“Oh? What might that be?” you ask, still hopeful.
“This machine burns gasoline, but it does not burn it well. You can smell the unburned gasoline from many yards away; in fact, the men using the machine are subjected to it for the duration of its use! Also, though it is small enough to sit on a man’s back, its inefficient engine spews as many particulates, noxious fumes, and greenhouse gases as a large vehicle driving for hundreds of miles!”
“It makes a terrible noise, so your neighbors for a thousand feet in every direction will always know when the machine is here. And not just your neighbors! The sound will disturb and terrify all the small animals, and make birdsong impossible. And it’s not just noise, sir, oh no! The forceful gale emitted from the machine will scour the earth of healthy topsoil, damaging small plants, and destroying insect habitat that is crucial to local bird populations. In addition it will blow dirt, allergens, and small particles of feces and insect bodies for a hundred feet in every direction, and thirty feet into the sky! In fact, my research shows that over ninety-nine percent of the men who use the machine will ALWAYS use it at its maximum power, so despite the machine being designed to move piles of heavy wet leaves, in the driest summer days it will be used to blast simple dust into the neighborhood, coating your neighbors’ homes and vehicles in a fine powder. It is truly a terror!
“And if you hire my men and their machines now in the fall, you will be bound to use them year round. It matters not if there is little detritus on the ground, my men power up the machines, seeking every bit of fluff they can find and blast it into the air! What say you?”
If you decide that this is stupidest thing you’ve ever heard, so that you will rake the lawn yourself, go to page 6.
If you decide that this is stupidest thing you’ve ever heard, so that you will pay a little extra to hire people to rake for you, go to page 23.
If you decide that this is stupidest thing you’ve ever heard, and that you will simply let the leaves lie, leaving wintering habitat for insects and small animals, go to page 13.
If you decide this sounds like a great idea, and you decide to hire the men and their machines, go to hell.
coments
Start with someone driving home at night after a late shift at work
In the Comments I've begun a story.
It had been a week since the new guy joined the office.
There was a little compartment behind the cabinet in the hall bathroom. It leaned forward, and in it were some of mom's jewelry and objects of family sentient. It would be unlikely to stop a violent burglar, but it has illuded my brother. From the first time he stole from our family, things changed. My good memories became washed away like spilled ink on paper kills pencil. I've been in house situations pivoting me as the youngest child, oldest child, middle child, and only child. I never got "attention" as an only child, because while he wasn't there, my older brother's debt and imprisonment absorbed the family energy. I am in my forties, with a wife and one child. My daughter has never met him. She never will. I have never felt a bond with him. So, it doesn't matter that the weak strings that for a fleeting instant existed were immediately severed.
Janet picked up a pen.
“This time, I’m going to write something completely different.”
Her story was going to have a main character who was a girl, but not a tomboy.
It would have a hint of attraction, but no romance.
Nobody would get exactly what they want, but they would be OK, anyway.
“Nobody would read that sort of story.”
Janet put down her pen.
I'll give you a snippet of the book I'm writing I guess, btw, TOIEC stands for Toll Orphanage Investigation and Escape Club.
August 30, 1800
Dear Diary,
Everyone else is devastated because of Amber’s death. I, on the other hand, am more phased by Yuko. I thought she was trustworthy. Today’s TOIEC will be about Yuko, and Yuko only. Not just to complain about her, but to plan ways to survive being attacked by her.
TOIEC:
Rule one states that you shouldn’t let anyone inside your room without permission and to never let “Her” inside. “Her” is probably Yuko, because she attacks when you sleep.
Rule two stumped us. We don't have any evidence that “Her” is Yuko for this one. Although it still could be Yuko, because she was in the classroom while I slept, trying to attack. Mother is usually the last one out of that room, so she definitely locked the door. Could the gravestones belong to her?
Rule three says to practice lucid dreaming. This is pretty obvious, Amber in her last moments was trapped in a world that seemed perfect and was stuck there due to Yuko's apparent dream control, and unable to get out because she never practiced lucid. Now she’s gone.
Rule four says that “she” has bad eyesight and brushes against the walls from time to time. I assume this is why the first night I met Yuko she came real close up to me. In fact she seems to get super close to things she’s trying to look at. Like when she had paint on her face, she probably got too close to the never-drying painting when she tried to look at it and got it on her face, and tried to wipe it off with her hands.
Rule five is the bathroom rule. By some of these rules, it doesn't mean just the safety of us, but the happiness of “her”. Like how “she doesn’t like her stuff in an unlocked room,” or “she worked very hard on them,” the bathroom being “her favorite place to stay after 7:00 P.M.” Mary is certain she saw Yuko in the bathroom when she went missing, so this might be why she was angry at Mary’s cries for rescue.
Rule six says to not touch the drawings in the basement. Me and Harmony saw her potentially drawing on the basement walls. She hissed when we knocked over a box, did she think it was someone here coming to clean off her drawings? We still need to check out the walls of the basement to make sure Yuko was actually guilty. Maybe next meeting.
By the way, here's my Quotev account if you're interested. Only the prolougue is out for now and my upload schedule is dogwater but you can check out the other things if you'd like! Also make sure to check out my amazing followers and their stuff, too! https://www.quotev.com/Hxllokxty
Sheer black curtains hung on all of the mirrors and shiny surfaces. Clocks had been stopped. Time was frozen.
I didn’t mean to. Technically, I didn’t. It was…well, details don’t really matter.
The basement, as dark and gloomy as it sounded, was my escape. It was chilly, but the cold’s never bothered me anyway. Sometimes it’s nice.
I was lying on the couch in my ebony outfit. I hated it. My tights were itchy and my dress was too tight in the middle; she had always believed I was skinny. Really, I just sucked in my stomach to please her.
I could feel my hair being played with, little strands braided and twisted here and there. I was sure that when - if - I stood up, the thick locks would be sticking every which way.
I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind anything, not normally. I had an open outlook on life, and tried my best to keep a positive perspective. But with all of the strangers in the house mixing their sorrowful energy into mine, I felt a bit weighed down.
“What can I draw to get all of these strangers away?” I whispered as I felt a slight tug at the back of my head.
“I advise against flames. Your mother’s life insurance wouldn’t even be enough for a new welcome mat.”
“Scorpions, perhaps?” I did so enjoy hearing screams of delight over my latest artistic achievement.
“Too obvious. Ooh, we could always do a nice round of mice.”
The story of Luiellen was one for all to hear (fiction work for my book).
In the first years of civilization, a strong group of nomadic leaders took shelter in an open and vast field. Those leaders soon took the opportunity to settle into these lands and form the most active nations that ever surfaced on the world. It only took one hundred years for settlers to claim 200,000 square kilometers of open fields and dense forests. All was well in Luiellen (the name is native tongue for Bright Nation) for 1500 years until one day the great fire demon broke out of his prison in the descent. No one knows why, but he had a grudge on the people of Luiellen and swore to end their lives. The many people broke of the nation mustered up their weapons and stood in front of the powerful demon, but he prevailed. Luiellen was wiped out of all land and most of all peoples we're burned in his path. It took the demon 2 months to destroy and desecrate the 200,000 square kilometers of once they lived on. Luiellen was settled into again by a different people 1,200 years later by a rebellious group of radicals from a neighboring country. Their story is sadly forgotten by most as their lands were enthusiastically left behind.
It was raining when Mad Dog left the pub. He started across the little bridge which crossed the little part of the river which split the southeast corner of town. He used to live in this town, the pub being his favorite place to get away from work. Mad Dog McGilleycutty had a unique talent for finding people who didnt want to be found. However tonight, one of these people found him. In his pub. Mad Dog had no choice but to cut out. His business, which was always more of a side hustle, was legitimate until a couple years ago. He reached his truck and got in but didnt start the engine right away. He wanted to see if he'd been followed.
Once apon a time there was a little boy, he was very depressed, so he killed himself. And they all lived happily ever after, the end
This isn't funny. Suicide is serious, and please, please get help if you are feeling this way.
The sun is shining, illuminating the green meadows above. The idyllic paradise is brimming with beauty; it's a perfect picture of serenity. A gentle breeze caresses the field, causing the trees to stretch their branches up to the sky, and shake them peacefully. The humble country houses open their windows, and the sun enters through them; they open their doors, and their inhabitants come out to enjoy the day. The gentle breeze slowly brings me closer and closer to my goal. I hate such pastoral beauty, such dull peace. I arrive at my destination, and little by little I eclipse the sun. Here begins my reign, and here ends that of the sun.
The breeze is emboldened, and blows with increasing force. The atmosphere becomes humid, thick and suffocating. The raindrops begin to fall, heavy and violent. At first they quench the thirst of the plants, to later betray and drown them. The breeze is no longer a breeze; it has turned into a violent wind; a whirlwind; a hurricane. This wild force swirls around me, molding my essence into a dizzy whirlpool. Currents of hot and cold air begin to form around me and inside me, following the cyclical motion started by the wind. Slowly, an eyelid forms in my core; I open it, and show off my pupil to the sky above. Around me, everything is in chaos, except in my peaceful eye. I take a deep breath, taking note of the vast reserve of power building inside me. For a millisecond, everything is paused, to resume when I launch a destructive beam. The light is dazzling, and the thunder is deafening. This lightning bolt is followed by many more. Beneath me, everything suffers: trees collapse, and their leaves scatter in the ground-bound rivulets of rainwater. The houses see how their roofs are torn off, and their interiors are flooded. Rivers and lakes overflow, and people flee, horrified by the destruction. All of this brings me joy, and if I could laugh, I'd do so.
I feel a push behind me. It is wind, but a foreign wind. He pushes me, gently at first, but then more insistently. Fear creeps into my mind: I'll be banished from this rainy paradise! The opposing wind blows, and meets my strength. After an arduous fight, my enemy is victorious, and I find myself unprotected. The rain stops falling so violently, and the lightning goes out. The alien wind resumes its attack, this time against me. I scatter, and my corpse is thrown across the sky. I give a cry of rage and pain, but nothing is heard, for I am no longer more than a sigh in the atmosphere. I try to grab onto something, but my claws are gone; I see myself thrown forcefully towards the horizon. All is lost, and the sun shines again.
Pete woke up one day and thought”I’m gonna do something with my pathetic life!” Pete worked hard putting in the time to work out and get in shape. After that, he started taking school seriously and aced all his classes. He tried out for football and got on the team. Then he got a girlfriend. Then as he was lying in bed with his girlfriend he heard a beeping sound. He opened his eyes to an alarm going off and his mom yelling”wake up! you’re gonna be late for school!” It took Pete a second to realize what was going on. Then he grabbed his pillow smashed his face into it and screamed.
THE END.
Once there was a doll named Dolly. She had once been a little girl’s favorite toy, but as the girl grew older, she had forgotten about her. She had no children of her own to pass Dolly on to, so she had shoved her in the back of her toy box and put it away in the attic.
That would have been the end of it, except for one thing- Dolly could think. Needless to say, she did a lot of thinking while she was in the toy box- mostly about how to escape. Eventually, she came up with an idea. It was almost perfect, but there were some small problems. The first, and probably the most important, was this- her original owner had moved, and she didn’t know her address. The second, though slightly less pressing, was the one she worried about the most- the new homeowners.
She knew she had to go at night, when there was less chance of being
seen- or heard. She was mostly nervous about being heard, mainly because her idea involved a lot of noise and she didn’t want the new owners to get suspicious. She tried to think of other options, but none of them seemed like they would work, so she fleshed out her original idea until she had a fairly solid plan. She decided to leave that night, but she knew she had to wait a few hours, as she could still hear the new owners moving around. As she waited, she thought about how to figure out where her original owner’s new house was. She was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t notice how quiet the house was becoming. She pressed an ear to the toy box to guess when it was safe to come out.
When she couldn’t hear any more noise, she carefully lifted the lid and peeked out. The attic was now fairly dark, except for the bit of moonlight that came from outside. Perfect. She came out the rest of the way, then gently closed the toy box. Time to put her plan into action. She moved around to the front of the toy box, then, ever so slowly, moved it under the attic window. After she moved it, she listened to make sure there wasn’t any noise coming from the rest of the house. Not hearing anything, she climbed on top of the toy box, then from there onto the windowsill so she could look out. Because the window faced the back of the house, she was able to see the backyard and figure out which way to go.
When she decided on a direction, she opened the window and left the house. She slowly made her way down the side of the house and onto the grass, then went straight until she reached the street. It took her several days to get to her owner’s new house, but she eventually made it. She was finally reunited with her old owner after many years.
