Here's a game we can all play.... remember the old exquisite corpse game the surrealists invented.....head,body,feet I use to call it... well this is the same jobby.... but this isn't a game and we aint drawing..... and its not consequences because you've seen my part..... Its more like the making of snakes on a plane..... I've given you a start to a film and some characters..... we Finnish it together.... its owned by us together given that the final submission has your writing in it and only the first ten people who join the group will be the adjudicators in the final draft with myself as the founder having the final say on the decisions of the first ten to join being that they are now the jury and i am the judge....  we can not deliberate too much over our own work but to enthuse others to contribute but if its rubbish it will not be in the final draft.... snakes on a plane was a poor film.... hence the rules need to be modified.... here's the start of a film..... write and post some ideas....... lets see if we cant make history... there is no point posting a full book....... just 20 - 2000 words or a bit more pending on how the mood takes you...... show off your writing skills!!!











THE CLEANER

The green laser shot out of the Iron door and scanned the cleaners irregular tattoo design on his forearm, and then the door made whirring noises as ancient alien technologies sparked into action and the doors sprang outward sending the old steel frame shelving that the paint dyes were on outward and down onto the cleaner…….. The dazed and confused and now multi-coloured cleaner was spitting out powder pigment when the machine from the future approached.
“Are you The Cleaner” the mechanized humanoid quizzed.
“ What the fuck kind of question is that?, no I’m the fucking tooth fairy, you look like a cyber-future style henry hoover, you better explain fast sparky what the fucks going on and why you’ve probably got me fired.” The cleaner was looking around and then started to laugh
“ Dave put you up to this didn’t he, that basterd ha ha ha, Is that you in there mick” the cleaner approached the mechanised humanoid he was now sure was Mick Barton from round the corner from him, hitting the robot from the future with the mop he had been using and laughing.
“Get out a there ye fat basterd ha ha ha ya got me”
“Negative I am not Mick” the robot said in a stiff robotic voice whilst spinning from the midriff and attempting to block the many attacks from the mop.
“BOB, its fuckin Bob innit, get out ya daft cunt this is daft”
“Negative this is not Bob”
“Negative this is not bob” mimicked the cleaner as he dropped the mop and started doing a rhythmic robotic dance
“Are you mocking me” the robots eyes changed from green to amber
“Are you mocking me, I’m Bob and I have a robotic suit on” said the cleaner
“Please stop this futile expression of comedy at my expense, I am not Bob”  Said the mechanical man from the future. As his eyes glowed red.
“OOO, Look at me am in a metal suit and I’m actin hard cos my eyes have gone red and that means I’m serious and I have a metal cock that I lube up with wd40”
With this the robot raised up twice the height of the cleaner who already stood at an impressive 6’3 and lots of guns appeared from its side, Its voice had now changed to a lower range and said in a very aggressive way
“I am Jobs orb unit 2 and I have been sent here for the cleaner”
The cleaner now changed his stance and his eyes widened and he realised he was in trouble
“Right yeah…I’m the cleaner, soz about that, thought you were someone else, please don’t kill me robot man from the future” The cleaner began to whimper
“I am Jobs orb unit two and have been sent here from Jobs orb unit one to recall the help of the cleaner”
“YEAH THAT ME BUT I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” The sobs of the cleaner were now confusing the Jobs Orb unit two and his eyes flickered from red, to amber, then to green and the weaponry folded in on itself and the robot shrank down….

“How was I to know you weren’t Bob or Mick?”




2 miles away a man masturbated furiously in a night club toilet whilst visualising love momentous in the aertex on the walls of this filthy room. He was called noodles….

Noodles was really mad…. He was as nuttier than squirrel shit and all he wanted was this acid trip to never end….. The aertex was showing him all the hellish fancies that he wanted…. Virgins getting penetrated by bowling skittles and wedding dresses covered in spunk while demons set his inner balls alight as he wanted to come with fire on the walls to relieve his ache….. But more than that….. He wanted his job to be over…… he was known as the dealer…. And he’d been to a lot of planets and seen a lot of shit….. But he wanted his job to be over and for the Jobs orb to make his replacement and do it soon before he did more damage to himself….. or the aertex he was about to burn with his fire spunk.


20 miles away a woman tucked her two children in bed in the loft conversion and opens the john wyndham novel in the middle… the day of the triffids… the kids favourite… they were dark creatures…. But they were her boys and she loved them… she had read them many books filled with wonder…. She had been to many dark places herself… al she wanted was this moment to never end… this time she had reading to her two dark creatures……. But the Jobs Orb calls and when it does she has to answer…. She hated her code name….. The mother….. As if she was the only one….. But she had a job to do and the orb could not be argued with.


200 miles away and a man finishes his cold cup of tea….. Puts out his cigarette on his mother’s bible and climbs onto the stool and places the noose round his neck… he rocks from side to side as he thinks of his mother and his family… the chair slips and he door bursts inward as the robot blasts the rope….. The burning end is near his eye as he chokes and splutters on the floor….. The robot man says “you have another job to do father”….


2000 miles away an African man taps into the goat’s corroded artery to mix the blood with the milk……. He thinks about the rest of his heard he thinks of his tribe…. He thinks of his luck…. The robot is visible in the distance of his highly acute periphery….. He stops a while and says an ancient prayer to his loving god while the robot is over him with its blasters placed at his head… he knows he has to oblige… he finishes his brew and wipes the blood and milk from his beard …. Goes and kisses his wife on the forehead while she sleeps and follows the jobs orb robot 4 to his next mission…. His goats run away as the boosters from the spacecraft scares “the Tribesman’s” flock.




2 million light years away near the star constellation Capricorn the jobs orb spins and the robots shuffle rooting and sampling the smells and tastes from all over the reports… filming each other as they sample and re sample for each other’s mystery to unfold into a different report, something quick and simple…. Some reckoning that will make sense…….. but the paperwork is merely abandoned at first to the scent of the different planets… a kind of rubbing against one another like a mutt would against a hunters leg or a clam to form a pearl… they clink and rub against the reports and sense the fear and sent of other less productive creatures….