Match Game Story: "Lucius C. Ganglebottom eagerly spread his waiting ___ for some filthy hillbilly."
Ten words or more in the blank space to make a horrific and/or beautiful story.
Have fun with it!
= new reply since forum marked as read
And that would have been a brilliant ending. 
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The best line ever written on, or about, DU...bar none! And I love the Lounge!
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You have been here longer than I have.
I do remember when you weren't pleased with a comment I made about New York being the city that never sleeps.
cloth laying on the ground before him. As he emptied the wicker basket he marveled at the feast he would soon enjoy. The decanter of stomach bile with just the right amount of blood and urine to mellow it. The silver chaffing dish that would soon be warming the mixture of testicles, pituitary and thyroid glands. And finally, the tar-tare of heart, kidney and liver.
His joy would be complete, if only, he had lung! But, they had to be discarded. Damaged from years of smoking! Next time, and there would be many next times, he would be more discriminating, and not so frugal. Not shop the vendors of Appalachia, but Manhattan or Boston. He would pay the going rate for quality, and not try to save a few dollars by bargaining for some filthy hillbilly.
just askin'
Lucius C. Ganglebottom eagerly spread his waiting nose hairs, preparing them for the weekly plucking. The nasal passages must be cleared, for tonight he was to dine with Sarah Feimos, the legendary dealer of horrific art. Any creation that dabbled in the macabre, she had seen it. And in many cases, dealt with it—most intimately.
She hardly ever consented to dine with anyone, and Lucius was as nervous as a topless Jane Russell in a room full of starving, sharp-toothed infants. But he knew this was his shot at glory and fame. And he wasn’t about to let it pass.
Sarah showed up at the Olive Garden exactly three minutes late. She was always fashionably late; like a sequined pointy bra that always shows up three minutes late, she was. She refused wine, insisting on only having the breadsticks and cannoli.
After finishing his pasta, Lucius decided that it was go time. “I want you to be my agent!” he sputtered.
Sarah smiled, like a Hall and Oates song. She clearly had been expecting this. “You’re a rather bold one, aren’t you Lucius?”
Lucius exhaled. “Well, ma’am, one doesn’t go through life with a name like Ganglebottom without being, at times, audacious.”
Sarah giggled, like a Spice Girls song. “Before I can become your agent, you’ll have to come back to my place and…convince me.”
“Oh, I can be quite convincing!”
Sarah rose from her seat, like a Spinal Tap song going all the way to ten, but stopping there and not quite going over the cliff. “Let’s take my car.”
INTERLUDE
At her apartment, Sarah took charge, like a cokehead with a Visa machine. “Remove your clothes!” she commanded. Three seconds later (Lucius could strip like a professional stripper on fast forward), Sarah explained the rules. She pointed to a canvas in the corner; “On that canvas, I want you to paint a picture. Your picture must incorporate three things: a reference to Star Wars, a reference to Dune, and a reference to Pulp Fiction.” She pointed to a desk in another corner. “On that piece of paper, prove that the logarithm base 2 of 3 is an irrational number.” She pointed to a second desk in another corner. “On that computer, log into democraticunderground.com and start a flame war using only posts with haiku.” She pointed to a counter near a corner of the kitchen. “On that card, give me your best chicken recipe.” She pointed to another corner of the room, with a sound board and a recording studio. “With this studio, create the worst music possible.”
“Damn,” Lucius replied, “you got a lot of corners in here.”
“You have ten hours,” Sarah warned. “Good luck.”
For ten hours, the naked Lucius worked his Ganglebottom off.
When Sarah returned, Lucius was drenched in sweat, but beaming with pride. “Are you ready for your judgment?” she asked.
“Judge away!”
Sarah picked up the card in the kitchen, and read:
Ingredients
1 cup mayonnaise
4 teaspoons prepared yellow mustard
1/2 cup parmesan cheese
4 cups finely crushed corn flakes
2 lbs boneless chicken breasts
salt
pepper
Directions
1 Salt and pepper your chicken breasts.
2 Mix first three ingredients together in a shallow bowl.
3 Coat chicken breast with this mixture, then cover with crushed cornflakes.
4 Place chicken breasts in lightly greased Pyrex baking dish.
5 Can be made up to 1 day ahead.
She nodded in satisfaction. “Most righteous,” she said.
She then moved to the recording studio, put the headphones on, and listened to Lucius’ production. He had successfully recreated the entire Nickelback oeuvre. “Excellent.”
She read his proof. “Proof by contradiction. Nice.”
She logged into DU and skimmed the threads.
“I like Ralph Nader
He speaks the truth and I want
To bear his children.
People from the south
Are barely smarter than those
Members of Peta.
Guess who demanded
To see my Best Buy receipt?
Hillary Clinton.
I don’t tip that much
In restaurants; at least not
If they allow kids.
Laura Branigan
An artist before her time:
Needed autotune.”
“Wow, banned after twenty posts.” Sarah was impressed. She even read the PPR message:
“Disrupting poorly
This troll has been PPRed.
And won’t be—aw, fuck it I hate haikus. –EarlG”
Finally, she gazed upon Lucius’ painting. Her breath was taken away, as if the Hamburglar had decided to start stealing breath, instead of McDonald’s hamburgers.
“Yes, Lucius! Oh yes. You shall be my client! You have performed well. Come, let us consummate our new professional relationship.”
And consummate it, they did. But we shan’t go into details, because we don’t want to be alerted on and have juror #5 take me for some filthy hillbilly.
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Genius!
Absolute genius!!