Some writer friends of mine and I got together for a little fun. The idea was, can you write a complete story in twenty minutes, no matter how ridiculous the subject? We pulled our inspirations from the proverbial hat and tried to make it all work. We each received a character, a setting, and a conflict, sometimes creating pretty outlandish combinations, and then had twenty minutes to craft a story out of those elements. Here is one of mine from that evening and remember, it went from idae to story in twenty minutes:
SETTING: A Biker Bar
CHARACTER: Trash Collector
CONFLICT: Good vs. Evil
The dumpster behind the Piston Ring Bar was always overflowing and if Randy was in a playful mood he’s sometimes engage in a little dumpster diving before slipping the forks in and tilting the whole mess into the back of his truck. He’d found dozens of skin mags and a few pornos. Sometimes there were drugs and twice he’d found a handgun. Nothing ever really surprised him any more. Or so he thought. But when he lifted the lid and saw the glowing red eyes of the Demon Strum starting up at him he got the shock of his life.
A wide grin stretched the beasts black cracked lips and it climbed menacingly out of the trash and into Randy's gaping mouth.
The Demon took control of his body and after a few wobbly, tentative steps, pulled open the back door and entered the dim, dark, biker bar.
“What are you doing in here?” growled one of the bikers. Strum reached out a finger form the trash man’s hand and touched the biker’s forehead. Said biker burst into an orange flame and suddenly collapsed into a smoldering pile of gray ash.
“Who’s next?” Strum hissed, ready for a good fight.
“I am.” Came a high pitched voice from the ice maker behind the bar. The door slipped open and from behind the ice cubes came a blinding light as the anti-demon Cord leapt out. He looked around quickly and wriggled his way up the left nostril of the bartender.
After falling into the bottles behind the bar and sending them crashing to the ground, he found his footing and leapt over the bar.
“I can’t let you leave here.” Cord said, in a voice that sounded like angels singing.
“Try and stop me.” The demon Strum said in a voice that sounded like every politician you’ve ever heard.
They leapt at each other and the battle raged, sending the bikers running into the street.
For nearly a month the fight inside the Piston Ring could be heard from the street and every night the bikers waited to see who would emerge.
Finally on the thirtieth night, the war ended, and while nearly a hundred bikers waited at the front door, the fight's winner slipped out the back, down the ally and disappeared.