Mad Libs - Your Fics Edition

[Sike Saner]

Hey there, let's play a game. :D Take the scene in the post above yours, fill in the blanks, and then post a scene of your own for someone to mutilate.

To kick things off, here's this. Have at it (but bear in mind, the snorunt characters are children!)


It was then that a _____ sound caught the attention of both snorunt: a sort of _____ noise coming from above. Zilag and Solonn looked up and saw its source _____ about overhead. It was yet another creature that shone with that _____ glow—the glow of _____, Solonn now knew.

“A _____,” Solonn guessed aloud in a _____ voice as he gazed up at the newcomer. “What’s one of those doing here?”

“I don’t know… I’ve never even _____ one before,” Zilag said.

“I bet your parents have,” Solonn said _____. “My mom told me that glalie _____ those things.”

Zilag _____ to _____ Solonn at those words and _____ incredulously at him for a moment. Then he broke into _____. “That’s the most _____ thing I’ve ever heard! They do not!”

“Oh, yes they do,” Solonn said as he continued to watch the _____ _____ around, seemingly without _____, near the ceiling of the cavern.

“No way!” Zilag said, still _____. “I know! Let’s ask the _____ if it’s true! HEY, _____!” he shouted.

The _____ steadfastly ignored the snorunt below, just wanting to focus on _____.

 

[canisaries]

I will... try.

It was then that a loud sound caught the attention of both snorunt: a sort of NYOOM noise coming from above. Zilag and Solonn looked up and saw its source spin about overhead. It was yet another creature that shone with that green glow—the glow of radioactivity, Solonn now knew.

“A Nukémon,” Solonn guessed aloud in a deafening 120 decibel voice as he gazed up at the newcomer. “What’s one of those doing here?”

“I don’t know… I’ve never even seen one before,” Zilag said.

“I bet your parents have,” Solonn said with extreme prejudice. “My mom told me that glalie build those things.”

Zilag tapdanced over to slap Solonn at those words and screamed incredulously at him for a moment. Then he broke into a thousand little shards of ice. “That’s the most fearmongering xenophobic Cold War propagandish thing I’ve ever heard! They do not!”

“Oh, yes they do,” Solonn said as he continued to watch the carcinogenic dragon zoom around, seemingly without knowing it was committing a war crime, near the ceiling of the cavern.

“No way!” Zilag said, still in glimmering pieces scattered across the ground. “I know! Let’s ask the reader if it’s true! HEY, reader!” he shouted.

The reader steadfastly ignored the snorunt below, just wanting to focus on shipping.

Now my turn (and there no minors so you can go crazy owo):

Right outside stands Arktos, apparently having _____ this whole time. There’s something new in his _____. _____?

“Ms Tanner?” the beartic says, _____.

The inkay's _____ almost goes uncaught, but after a second, the _____ pierce through her _____. She turns to Arktos with an inquisitive hum.

Arktos clasps his paws together. “Are you sure going without _____ is a good idea?”

Shirlee’s smaller tentacles _____. I recognize the gesture as one of _____, then realize that I must be quite a rarity among _____ for knowing this body language so well. Something to be _____ of, I suppose, though some would argue I shouldn't get any _____ than I already am.

"I'll be fine," she replies, _____ leaking into the voice. "I'm psychic, and no one would dare try anything in _____. And, besides…"

A cold, wet touch at my _____ makes me flinch. I glance down and see _____.

If only for a split second, it felt like I was with Him again.

"I do have _____, don't I?" she coos.

Arktos grunts and shoots _____. "He's among the _____ I'm worried about…"

Now it's Shirlee's turn to _____. "We'll be fine," she says, slips her _____ and pulls me away with the added help of _____. I follow without protest, eager to get away from the _____ bear as well.

Arktos sighs heavily. "Alright then, Ms Tanner. I'll stay in watch of your room while you're _____."

 

[NebulaDreams]

Right outside stands Arktos, apparently having dabbed this whole time. There’s something new in his fur coat. OwO, what's this?

“Ms Tanner?” the beartic says, hitting another dab.

The inkay's stern gaze at his meme cringe almost goes uncaught, but after a second, the dead memes pierce through her skull. She turns to Arktos with an inquisitive hum.

Arktos clasps his paws together. “Are you sure going without your phone for Pokemon GO is a good idea?”

Shirlee’s smaller tentacles wiggle like one of those wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube men. I recognize the gesture as one of her ancestors, then realize that I must be quite a rarity among non-furry degenerates for knowing this body language so well. Something to be ashamed of, I suppose, though some would argue I shouldn't get any more ashamed of myself than I already am.

"I'll be fine," she replies, smüg energy leaking into the voice. "I'm psychic, and no one would dare try anything in this shindig. And, besides…"

A cold, wet touch at my pants makes me flinch. I glance down and see urine.

If only for a split second, it felt like I was with Him again.

"I do have my hubby wubby, don't I?" she coos.

Arktos grunts and shoots another skull-piercing glare. "He's among the furry degenerates I'm worried about…"

Now it's Shirlee's turn to nae-nae. "We'll be fine," she says, slips her coat off and pulls me away with the added help of the stanky leg. I follow without protest, eager to get away from the aggressively dabbing bear as well.

Arktos sighs heavily. "Alright then, Ms Tanner. I'll stay in watch of your room while you're nae-naeing."

Now my turn. For reference, Curio is a Lucario, Shine is a Luxray, and Barley is a Gligar. And yes, there is a human in the mix.

Curio nudged his ____ with her elbow. “He’s thinkin’ a mile a minute again. You wanna give him one of your ____, Batty?”

“O-oh.” Shine spluttered. He still wasn’t used to Curio ____.

“Yeah,” Barley said, “you kind of look like you’re about to ____ there.”

“But we don’t--” He cut himself off. This wasn’t the time for ____. “Well, yes. I’m just thinking, if it’s tomorrow, I don’t really know how to go about doing it.” He ____ at the barstool’s spongey material. “The first time I ____, I had a plan, but here, obviously, I didn't have time to come up with one."

"Ah, that's no problem. Curio just ____, doesn't she?"

She nodded.

"And besides," he said, looking to his own trainer, "any effort we make to try and teach other Pokemon ____ is better than none, isn't it?"

"Damn straight." He took a swig of his ____. "Those bigwigs in the ____ have their ____ up their asses. You'd think they'd start teachin' this stuff sooner if everyone else's ahead of the curve."

"Not gonna happen," Curio scoffed. "They don't give two shits about what we do."

"H-hey," Barley interrupted, "I agree, but I don't wanna ____, y'know. I heard they're doing something in Galar, so they might bring that everywhere else some day."

Shine rose at that, flashing back to a certain tidbit he read on ___. "Yes, right, Galar's doing ____ for Pokemon, aren't they? And their government's ____!"

"Yup." Curio crossed her arms. "And we can't do jack about it cuz' ____."

Everyone else ____, bringing the conversation to a close.

 

[WildBoots]

Curio nudged his calculator out of reach with her elbow. “He’s thinkin’ a mile a minute again. You wanna give him one of your cheat sheets, Batty?”

“O-oh.” Shine spluttered. He still wasn’t used to Curio watching over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Barley said, “you kind of look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel there.”

“But we don’t--” He cut himself off. This wasn’t the time for rest. There wasn’t time to finish all of it, but he had to try to finish as much of the assignment as he could. “Well, yes. I’m just thinking, if it’s tomorrow, I don’t really know how to go about doing it.” He poked a paperclip at the barstool’s spongey material. “The first time I lied to a teacher, I had a plan, but here, obviously, I didn't have time to come up with one."

"Ah, that's no problem. Curio just tells them a luxray ate it, doesn't she?"

She nodded.

"And besides," he said, looking to his own trainer, "any effort we make to try and teach other Pokemon how to fight the man is better than none, isn't it?"

"Damn straight." He took a swig of his Redbull. "Those bigwigs in the school board have their protractors up their asses. You'd think they'd start teachin' this stuff sooner if everyone else's ahead of the curve."

"Not gonna happen," Curio scoffed. "They don't give two shits about what we do."

"H-hey," Barley interrupted, "I agree, but I don't wanna fail the fourth grade again, y'know. I heard they're doing something in Galar, so they might bring that everywhere else some day."

Shine rose at that, flashing back to a certain tidbit he read on SparkNotes. "Yes, right, Galar's doing summer school for Pokemon, aren't they? And their government's full of stupid people who can’t add two and two!"

"Yup." Curio crossed her arms. "And we can't do jack about it cuz' neither can we."

Everyone else looked down at their half-eaten homework, bringing the conversation to a close.

And mine (from Continental Divides ch1):


Mark was quiet for a moment. "You see that woman sitting over there? With the breloom."

In the corner, __. The only other person in the bar with __. Her breloom dipped its muzzle into its own beer mug, lifting its head every so often to __.

"That's __. Yeah, I know, but that's her name. A couple years back she was close to taking the title and whole lot of money, but she came back instead. She chose to give up training and __ when she could've had everything. So people here listen to her. Now she's one of the last things standing between DevCo and their __."

Natalie nodded, not wanting him to think she was ignorant, though this was the first she was hearing about __.

"The point is, you don't have to be __ to do something."

She lifted her chin. "And what about you?"

Mark flashed a smile that she couldn't help but return. "I __, mostly. Make connections." With a shrug, he drained his glass and then said, "Alright, Natalie. Here's a question for you: __? As human beings."

A nervous laugh burst out of her. "__."

He smiled, but his gray eyes still bore into her. After a minute he insisted, "Do you think we have any?"

Natalie spluttered, "Well, sure. I just… __."

Before she could think of something clever to say, Mark's __. "Sorry. __." Natalie hadn't noticed until he pulled the __ out of his pocket that he wasn't wearing __ or a __ like every other trainer in Hoenn. It didn't even have __ — at this point, she probably shouldn't have been surprised.

He squinted at __ a minute, and then he growled, "Shit. Shit. I have to go — right now." He jumped up, slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder and tossing in his book.

 

[StellarWind]

I'm probably doing this horribly wrong, but *shrug*.

Mark was quiet for a moment. "You see that woman sitting over there? With the breloom."

In the corner, in the spotlight, Michael Stipes was warbling about losing his religion. The only other person in the bar with any clue as for why was a musician from another Earthrealm even in that bar to begin with was casually sitting there and smugly sipping on what passed for a local artisanal beer. Her breloom dipped its muzzle into its own beer mug, lifting its head every so often to do the best impression of a drinky bird ever done by any living being in any Earthrealm, and gather the accolades for it.

"That's No Good. Yeah, I know, but that's her name. A couple years back she was close to taking the title and whole lot of money, but she came back instead. She chose to give up training and retire to run an alpaca ranch when she could've had everything. So people here listen to her. Now she's one of the last things standing between DevCo and their insatiable hunger for rock candy."

Natalie nodded, not wanting him to think she was ignorant, though this was the first she was hearing about the existence of alpacas (what was that, some new kind of Pokémon?).

"The point is, you don't have to be a main character to do something."

She lifted her chin. "And what about you?"

Mark flashed a smile that she couldn't help but return. "I moonlight as a wi-fi technician, mostly. Make connections." With a shrug, he drained his glass and then said, "Alright, Natalie. Here's a question for you: Do you think we should CRISPR Pokemon genes into ourselves to bring about the next stage of our species' evolution? As human beings."

A nervous laugh burst out of her. "That's going to rattle so many ethics committees."

He smiled, but his gray eyes still bore into her. After a minute he insisted, "Do you think we have any?"

Natalie spluttered, "Well, sure. I just… Haven't been in touch with any of them since the incident."

Before she could think of something clever to say, Mark's head fell off its hinge and comically rolled to the corner where Michael Stipes was now singing about the End of the World As We Know It. "Sorry. I forgot to bolt it down today. Forget my own head next. Oh wait." Natalie hadn't noticed until he pulled the backup head that he had been keeping at hand for just such an occasion out of his pocket that he wasn't wearing galoshes or a big wooly hat like every other trainer in Hoenn. It didn't even have a reason behind it, Hoenn was hardly a galoshes OR a big-wooly-hat sort of climate, but the locals were a bunch of weirdoes — at this point, she probably shouldn't have been surprised.

He squinted at his previous head being kicked out of the corner by Michael Stipes' mighty hooves and appreciatively watched it dissolve into a fine dust for a minute, and then he growled, "Shit. Shit. I have to go — right now." He jumped up, slinging a messenger bag over his shoulder and tossing in his book.

Here's something out of a yet-unpublished thing. Viewpoint character is a Scyther.

"The _____ said something to the ______ and it nodded in acknowledgement, sitting down and closing its eyes. A change took place – a faint aura of ever-shifting _____ appeared to surround the creature, swirling around it as its _____ was ruffled by a _____ that wasn’t actually there. Something tugged at the edge of my ______, though I could not quite place it – a faint, incoherent ______, beyond subtle but still there. Even from my vantage point hidden in _________ I felt exposed, uneasy. I had to _______. A part of me suggested that ______ would be the wisest idea. Whatever these beings were, neither looked particularly ______ capable – but then, what if they were? This made no _______.

The _____ grew brighter and seemed to swirl more fiercely around the creature as the ______ around it picked up. The faint _____ grew louder and resolved itself into a __________, almost in tune with the rhythm of the _________. I had to ________. ________. Take ______-

These are not my ________!

The realization struck me sharply – this creature, whatever it was, was attempting to manipulate me into ________. So, it was __________ - did it really think I was that ________? Silently, I turned away, slinking deeper into ________. I would not give it the satisfaction of _________.

But the ______ in my ________ was still there – and against all sense it seemed to _____ the further away I moved from its source. There were no insidious _____ – just the _______ on the edge of my __________, washing over me in _______. So, it realized I wasn’t going to play its game, has it? First it tries to _______ me, then it tries to ________me in my own ______ing grounds?

______ be damned, I was going to ________ this insolent creature by any means necessary."

 

[Sike Saner]

"The crack in the floor said something to the bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's® syrup and it nodded in acknowledgement, sitting down and closing its eyes. A change took place – a faint aura of ever-shifting plausibility appeared to surround the creature, swirling around it as its right to exist was ruffled by a legitimate ctiticism that wasn’t actually there. Something tugged at the edge of my parachute pants, though I could not quite place it – a faint, incoherent bothering, beyond subtle but still there. Even from my vantage point hidden in a conveniently scyther-scized and scented box I felt exposed, uneasy. I had to disappear into my own pants. A part of me suggested that, in actuality, strangling the syrup bottle with said garment and then stuffing it into the floor's noisy crack-mouth would be the wisest idea. Whatever these beings were, neither looked particularly scythercide capable – but then, what if they were? This made no impact whatsoever on my decision to reinstate logic in my surroundings using my pants, somehow.

The glow of utter pointlessness grew brighter and seemed to swirl more fiercely around the creature as the previously inaudible hooting sounds all around it picked up. The faint owlnoise grew louder and resolved itself into a straight-up honkening, almost in tune with the rhythm of the night. I had to dance until the morning light. Calgon. Take me aw-

These are not my beautiful houses and/or wives!

The realization struck me sharply – this creature, whatever it was, was attempting to manipulate me into making no effing sense whatsoever. So, it was in fact doing this on purpose - did it really think I was that thing, that thing, that thiiiiiiiiing? Silently, I turned away, slinking deeper into various and sundry music references. I would not give it the satisfaction of hearing me actually sing them.

But the roar of nonsense in my head was still there – and against all sense it seemed to pitch way the hell up while slowing down just as much the further away I moved from its source. There were no insidious transmissions broadcasting the hits of the '80s and '90s, neither in my head nor from my trousers – just the discordant warbling being emitted by the syrup bottle on the edge of my table, as well as by the split floorboards now, washing over me in waves of noise sufficient to turn my thoughts and senses into one big fecking Weimaraner. So, it realized I wasn’t going to play its game, has it? First it tries to laminate me, then it tries to fry me in my own egg-gargling grounds?

Squantus be damned, I was going to bumblepum this insolent creature by any means necessary."

Well that happened!

Guess I better offer up another sacrificial victim of a scene, then. POV character is a latios.


_____ enveloped the intruder, hanging _____ over the _____. It was a _____ and very _____ medium, one that would have offered up no _____ among its _____ to _____ senses, and would have threatened to erase the lines between itself and a less _____ invader.

But the _____ wouldn’t absorb Jal’tai, nor would it _____ him. He could readily make out the _____ that formed it, as well as the intricate ways _____. The task was made all the easier by _____; the _____ would have been _____ in _____, making it _____ to _____ what lay within it. It also helped that _____.

Within _____ was the key to _____—answers to why _____ and _____. Jal’tai began to _____ through the _____, searching for _____ and _____. They looked considerably different from _____, _____ through very different _____, but there was no mistaking them.

Having found the _____ for the relevant _____, he proceeded to _____ it. Then he let the _____, _____ at an incredible speed as he _____. Almost as soon as it had begun, the process was finished. In barely more than an instant, Jal’tai had _____.

 

[IFBench]

Fog enveloped the intruder, hanging directly over the Latios. It was a thick and very tight medium, one that would have offered up no resistance among its intruder to death senses, and would have threatened to erase the lines between itself and a less determined invader.

But the fog wouldn’t absorb Jal’tai, nor would it release him. He could readily make out the particles that formed it, as well as the intricate ways they moved. The task was made all the easier by his extraordinary vision; the fog would have been around and in his eyes, making it difficult to see what lay within it. It also helped that Jal'tai was a legendary.

Within the fog was the key to freedom—answers to why he was here and how to get out. Jal’tai began to move through the fog, searching for truth and answers. They looked considerably different from what he had thought, conveying through very different mediums, but there was no mistaking them.

Having found the key for the relevant info, he proceeded to take it. Then he let the metaphorical shackles go, flying at an incredible speed as he pushed through the fog. Almost as soon as it had begun, the process was finished. In barely more than an instant, Jal’tai had escaped.

Here's my contribution to this, from Eternal Shadows Chapter 5! POV character is a Chikorita writing in a journal.

It’s been _____ since I wrote in here!

I was walking to Burhalla’s _____, when suddenly, I felt something _____ hit me, and I woke up in this strange place. The sky was _____, and I was on this _____ platform. In the _____ of it, there was _____. It looked just like the _____ of legends!

Can you believe it? A real _____? And not even a _____ one!

I asked _____, and the next thing I knew, the _____ had _____ me, and I heard something _____. I didn’t get a good look at it, but it looked _____, and really _____.

I think that _____ had saved me from that thing! Or maybe it was just a _____.

After that, I woke up at the end of _____. There was an _____ there named Gen. He didn’t know what was going on, either. He asked me what I _____ last, and I told him about that place with the _____ sky and the _____. I don’t think he believed me, though. I can hardly believe it myself! An actual _____!

I asked him _____, and suddenly, Burhalla came into the _____! He was really relieved to see me, and told me where I was. Then he started talking to Gen. Apparently Gen couldn’t remember _____, or _____! I’d almost think he was just faking it, or maybe even another _____, but later he said he didn’t even remember _____!

Burhalla had forgotten an _____, so we had to head through _____ backwards. It was pretty _____. We even ran into a huge group of _____! I thought it was a _____, but Burhalla pointed out that there weren’t any _____ in it. We must have just been unlucky. A _____ had _____ me there, but Gen gave me a _____ to help with that.

Speaking of Gen, he couldn’t even remember how to _____! He tried shouting out “_____!” at a _____, as if that would do anything! I really needed that _____ after what Burhalla told me.

He said that I’ve been _____ for _____. _____! All of _____, it seems. _____, _____, and even _____ had gone missing while I’ve been gone. According to Burhalla, _____ and the rest of _____ have been searching for him ever since.

I hope he’s _____. I miss _____.

 

[Sike Saner]

It’s been one week since you looked at me--I mean, since I wrote in here!

I was walking to Burhalla’s Ridiculous Hat Store, when suddenly, I felt something damp and smelling of cheese hit me, and I woke up in this strange place. The sky was gone, replaced by a gigantic sheet of cardboard with "SKY" written across it, and I was on this horrendous blogging platform. In the least intolerable part of it, there was the option to delete my account. It looked just like the deactivation page of legends!

Can you believe it? A real deactivation page? And not even a particularly well-hidden one!

I asked Burhalla when he'd gotten here, and had a projectile made from moldy cheese been involved, and the next thing I knew, the hat salesman had plunked a bowler the size of a pea on me, and I heard something bounce off it with a nearly deafening, cartoonish ricochet noise. I didn’t get a good look at it, but it looked sort of fluffy, and really not like anything that should've made a noise other than perhaps a light "pff" on impact.

I think that Burhalla had saved me from that thing! Or maybe it was just a habit of his, plunking hats on anything within reach (it's a wonder he makes any money at all, really, what with all the hats he's just giving away).

After that, I woke up at the end of my natural lifespan. There was an uncannily hat-shaped being there named Gen. He didn’t know what was going on, either. He asked me what I may or may not have hallucinated about last, and I told him about that place with the fake sky and the awful social media site. I don’t think he believed me, though. I can hardly believe it myself! An actual option to deactivate my account!

I asked him if he had any grapes, and suddenly, Burhalla came into the shot! He was really relieved to see me, and told me where I was. Then he started talking to Gen. Apparently Gen couldn’t remember whether it was Berenstain or Berenstein, or if he actually gave a whirling flip either way! I’d almost think he was just faking it, or maybe even another, smaller, parasitic sort of hat had gotten into his head and was causing him to say random things, but later he said he didn’t even remember the 21st night of September!

Burhalla had forgotten an entire year's worth of hat puns, so we had to head through time backwards. It was pretty scientifically implausible. We even ran into a huge group of what looked suspiciously like langoliers! I thought it was a flock of toothy meatballs, but Burhalla pointed out that there weren’t any comically outdated CGI models in it. We must have just been unlucky. A flying pokémon toting what looked suspiciously like a cheese cannon had taken aim at me there, but Gen gave me a huge basket of blast seeds to help with that.

Speaking of Gen, he couldn’t even remember how to speak! He tried shouting out “...!” at a reflection of himself in the chrome hat Burhalla was about to put on him, as if that would do anything! I really needed that memory to cherish after what Burhalla told me.

He said that I’ve been cruising for a bruising. The heck?! All of the bruisings, it seems. Also, his head, Gen's butt (he had one?), and even that guy next door who called me a sapient lima bean once had gone missing while I’ve been gone. According to Burhalla, no one and the rest of nobody have been searching for him ever since.

I hope he’s itching in a terribly inconvenient place. I miss having something to laugh about.

I love doing these. :D


Next up is this bit:



The _______ lingered yet again, for longer this time, but not _____. Here and there, it tried to _____ like it always did when _____, only to _____ before it could _____. Every time it happened, _____ felt a bizarre sense of _____.

As such, when _____ finally, definitely _____ and the _____ vanished completely, _____ and the _____ were left fairly _____. The sheer contrast between _____ and ______ didn’t help matters.

Once _____ was finally convinced that _____, _____ recognized _____: _____ was in _____. _____ recognized something else, as well: a familiar face in a small crowd of _____. _____ washed over _____, only to falter when _____. It was _____, there to keep the _____ from _____, and it swiftly_____.

Most of the _____ started _____ almost immediately, but to no avail. “_____!” one of them called out, and a couple of the others _____. “_____!”

“They’re… they’re _____…” another said, sounding as though he were _____, his _____ gaze taking in _____. “They can’t…” Most of the _____ fell silent at his words, but one kept on, _____ in desperation.

The sound of _____ mingled with her _____, multiple _____ against _____. _____ turned and saw _____ rushing to join the group, and _____ heard what was likely _____ coming from the opposite direction.

“_____?” _____ asked, sounding _____.

<These _____ have been _____,> _____ answered her; the _____ went _____ at the sound of _____. <This _____—> _____ gestured toward the _____. <—is involved with _____.>

 

[Starlight Aurate]

Mad Libs, my one weakness!

The putrescence lingered yet again, for longer this time, but not to a paralyzing degree. Here and there, it tried to liquify everything like it always did when agitated, only to stop before it could succeed in putrefying the place. Every time it happened, Poochy felt a bizarre sense of incoming diarrhea.

As such, when Poochy stopped smelling finally, definitely finished his meal and the liquid abomination vanished completely, Swallot and the little piles of sludge it called "children" were left fairly content. The sheer contrast between Poochy and the sludge piles didn’t help matters.

Once Swallot was finally convinced that her children followed behind her, she recognized several faces: smiley faces with googly eyes was in the sludge. Swallot recognized something else, as well: a familiar face in a small crowd of aromatic garbage. Discordant revolted joy washed over Poochy, only to falter when she smelled them. It was the father Swallot, there to keep the sludge children from misbehaving, and it swiftly disciplined them by wagging a stern finger.

Most of the sludge children started crying almost immediately, but to no avail. “No more bedtimes!” one of them called out, and a couple of the others agreed. “Bed times no more!”

“They’re… they’re revolutionizing…” another said, sounding as though he were holding back gags, his googly-eyed gaze taking in the chanting sludge piles. “They can’t…” Most of the odorous piles fell silent at his words, but one kept on, chanting in desperation.

The sound of wet screaming mingled with her bubbling goop, multiple gargles against cries for a new world order. Poochy turned and saw a herd of Gulpin rushing to join the group, and the flock heard what was likely cheering autobots coming from the opposite direction.

“They built their own robots?” Poochy asked, sounding highly impressed and eager.

<These sludge piles have been liberated,> the autobot answered her; the herd of Gulpin went rambunctious at the sound of the beeping and booping. <This fine-smelling creature—> the sludge-child gestured toward the other sludge-children. <—is involved with the most advanced technology we've ever seen.>

Here's something ~icy~

____ sang softly as he ____ his baby ____. ____’s cries gradually ____ to ____ as she ____ angrily at her brother with bright blue ____. He sang the old ____ over and over again—the ancient ____ was the only remotely-____-melody that came to mind at three in the morning.

The windows showed piles of ____ shining beneath a ____-speckled sky. In the distance stood the ____ with the old archway of the ruined ____. The sight was oddly ____; ____ had spent winter nights as a ____ looking out the window with his ____. ____ often told of the monstrous ____, ____, who lured in ____ and sent them to their ____.

“She’s th’ reason ____ is ____,” ____'s ____ always said. “____'s ____ was so severe that she ____ everythin’ in sight. ____ up th’ whole royal ____, she did, along with anyone else she ____. Lures people in with th’ ____ of her ____ and ____ ‘em ____!”

____ wailed. ____ rocked her more ____, trying to ____. He sighed; his mother had a ____ day, and when the two of them had ____ from ____ crying, he offered to ____ so his mother might get some ____. He ____ if he’d ____ his decision—he and ____ had to ____ tomorrow morning for a ____ for the ____ he worked at.