KSG snippets
Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 2:52 pm
Sometimes I ask people to give me a prompt for a "30 minute writing prompt." I then write the first thing that comes to mind for about half an hour or so. I usually use this as a warm-up for more serious writing.
Here's the first one, understandably entitled: "This is retarded." The prompts were a picture of Joseph Stalin and the fanart of Misha and Shizune wearing vaguely military looking uniforms.
-----
"Premier Stalin. . . we are defeated," General Zhukov said. The brutish-looking man swallowed hard as he stood at attention before his country's leader, the man who had led the glorious Soviet Union to victory against Nazi Germany. "Sakhalin Island is lost. The enemy is preparing to invade through Mongolia. Our forces are being routed on every front. We have no choice but to cede Siberia to the enemy."
"Incompetence!" Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin roared. "Cowardice! Defeatism! Have you learned nothing from Stalingrad? From Moscow? Tell the men to fight harder! We cannot allow ourselves to be defeated now, not after all of the lives that were lost crushing the Fascists!"
"Premier. . . I would tell the men to fight harder. . . but there are none left. They are lying in their trenches, dead. The entire Eastern Front is collapsing. Defeat is inevitable."
Joseph Stalin slumped over his desk like a collapsing house of cards. He buried his face in his hands, groaning in agony.
"How. . . how can this be?"
-----
"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Colonel Hisao Nakai grimaced in pain as the pink-haired executive commander of Third Area Army let loose a an ear-piercingly loud laugh mere inches from his left ear. "Look at them run, Shicchan! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And indeed, the young colonel had to admit, it was a rather impressive sight. Hundreds of thousands of Russian soldiers fleeing across the snow-blasted Siberian steppes, leaving behind wrecked tanks, abandoned trucks, and thousands upon thousands of dead bodies. The victorious forces of the Imperial Japanese Army pursued them mercilessly, cries of "TEN THOUSAND YEARS FOR THE IMMORTAL EMPEROR!" loud upon their lips.
And the woman who had orchestrated it all, the Dagger of the East herself, stood in the open hatch of her trusty Type-95 Ha-Go light tank, watching the battle ensue. Although she could not hear the sounds of the shells falling, or the victorious cries of her men, General Shizune Hakamichi could still see the enemy army being routed. She licked her crimson lips in a near-salacious manner, the excitement in her eyes verging on the sexual.
Colonel Nakai sighed inwardly and prepared himself for a long night. Any minute now, she would. . .
". . ."
"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That's an excellent idea, Shicchan! Colonel Hicchan! Remove your pants immediately and report to the command tank at once!"
Hisao Nakai took a deep breath as he put down his binoculars and climbed up into the tank. General Hakamichi practically tore his shirt off before he was even down the hatch, followed quickly by her own. Lieutenant General Mikado's uniform followed shortly after.
A few minutes later, a messenger from General Yamada's office approached the command post with a telegram of communication. He was delayed in delivering his message for ten minutes. The rule in the Third Area Army was: when the tank was a rockin', don't come a-knockin'.
-----
". . . that's stupid."
[Do you really have so little faith in my skills as a general?]
"I'm just saying, just because you kick my ass at Risk all the time, doesn't mean that you could have done the same in the real battlefield. There's a big difference between rolling dice and leading an actual army. And how come you brought Misha into this, anyway?"
[. . . no reason.]
"Should I tell the Student Council vice president about your salacious fantasies, Madam President?"
[Shut up and roll your dice. I'm attacking Moscow now.]
"Yes, ma'am. . ."
Here's the first one, understandably entitled: "This is retarded." The prompts were a picture of Joseph Stalin and the fanart of Misha and Shizune wearing vaguely military looking uniforms.
-----
"Premier Stalin. . . we are defeated," General Zhukov said. The brutish-looking man swallowed hard as he stood at attention before his country's leader, the man who had led the glorious Soviet Union to victory against Nazi Germany. "Sakhalin Island is lost. The enemy is preparing to invade through Mongolia. Our forces are being routed on every front. We have no choice but to cede Siberia to the enemy."
"Incompetence!" Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin roared. "Cowardice! Defeatism! Have you learned nothing from Stalingrad? From Moscow? Tell the men to fight harder! We cannot allow ourselves to be defeated now, not after all of the lives that were lost crushing the Fascists!"
"Premier. . . I would tell the men to fight harder. . . but there are none left. They are lying in their trenches, dead. The entire Eastern Front is collapsing. Defeat is inevitable."
Joseph Stalin slumped over his desk like a collapsing house of cards. He buried his face in his hands, groaning in agony.
"How. . . how can this be?"
-----
"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Colonel Hisao Nakai grimaced in pain as the pink-haired executive commander of Third Area Army let loose a an ear-piercingly loud laugh mere inches from his left ear. "Look at them run, Shicchan! WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And indeed, the young colonel had to admit, it was a rather impressive sight. Hundreds of thousands of Russian soldiers fleeing across the snow-blasted Siberian steppes, leaving behind wrecked tanks, abandoned trucks, and thousands upon thousands of dead bodies. The victorious forces of the Imperial Japanese Army pursued them mercilessly, cries of "TEN THOUSAND YEARS FOR THE IMMORTAL EMPEROR!" loud upon their lips.
And the woman who had orchestrated it all, the Dagger of the East herself, stood in the open hatch of her trusty Type-95 Ha-Go light tank, watching the battle ensue. Although she could not hear the sounds of the shells falling, or the victorious cries of her men, General Shizune Hakamichi could still see the enemy army being routed. She licked her crimson lips in a near-salacious manner, the excitement in her eyes verging on the sexual.
Colonel Nakai sighed inwardly and prepared himself for a long night. Any minute now, she would. . .
". . ."
"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That's an excellent idea, Shicchan! Colonel Hicchan! Remove your pants immediately and report to the command tank at once!"
Hisao Nakai took a deep breath as he put down his binoculars and climbed up into the tank. General Hakamichi practically tore his shirt off before he was even down the hatch, followed quickly by her own. Lieutenant General Mikado's uniform followed shortly after.
A few minutes later, a messenger from General Yamada's office approached the command post with a telegram of communication. He was delayed in delivering his message for ten minutes. The rule in the Third Area Army was: when the tank was a rockin', don't come a-knockin'.
-----
". . . that's stupid."
[Do you really have so little faith in my skills as a general?]
"I'm just saying, just because you kick my ass at Risk all the time, doesn't mean that you could have done the same in the real battlefield. There's a big difference between rolling dice and leading an actual army. And how come you brought Misha into this, anyway?"
[. . . no reason.]
"Should I tell the Student Council vice president about your salacious fantasies, Madam President?"
[Shut up and roll your dice. I'm attacking Moscow now.]
"Yes, ma'am. . ."
)