So this is the thread dedicated to my peice of fanfiction,
A play on the original tale of 'The Gingerbread man', Author unknown. Considering a modern issue in a light hearted and very fictional version of the traditional story.
Here is the beggining, still being drafted and with that constructive criticism or suggestions would be much appreciated...
In a land far away, but in this current day, lived a little old man and a little old woman with a fondness for gingerbread men. One fine morning the little old man and little old woman were compelled to make just one, for there appetite was seldom large. Upon consultation of the pantry, they discovered a shortage of flour. “Bollocks” they exclaimed at the exact same time, as you would if you were one cupful of flour short of a gingerbread man.
Wandering the isle’s of the local Woolworths they came across flour. Amongst the stacks of flour, large as they were, lay a new variety of flour. Curious, and blind to the fact that it had a “Genetically Modified Product” sticker on the packet ( it did not help that today both had forgotten there glasses, with the stress that flour shopping brings) they purchased 5 kg’s of it, for this frustration never helps the health.
Following the quick baking procedure (one of the many appealing traits of gingerbread men) they removed the gingerbread man from the oven (not a second to soon I may add). While cooling, He was iced and clothed with cherry buttons and raisin eyes in proper gingerbread man fashion. They soon popped off, creating a great deal of confusion, for they were only held by icing, but flew off , as do buttons of clothes that don’t fit. They cautiously watched the Gingerbread man as he grew like no other. Around 60 cm’s (we all know that good gingerbread men are 15 centimeters tall) small muscles formed and he started wriggling. The little old lady fainted. The little old man shuffled off to find rope.
-Ross.
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So my creative ability is drying up rapidly, and if someone could provide some advice, a possible next sentence it would be much appreciated. Im now getting to the point where he is chased..
Although the little old man wasn’t breaking any speed records ( walking frames aren’t overly aerodynamic you see), the Gingerbread man definitely was. He doubled in height in minutes. The wriggling slowly became controlled, and crawling came soon after. All was well, until he fell off the bench, slicing his arm end on the way down. A steady trickle of milk followed. The old lady eventually woke up and helped the distraught gingerbread man. She was still in shock, but her mother instinct forced her to get the gelatin to clot the cut.
The old man shuffled back, holding rope. He screamed ( in a manly way of course) and retreated. The Gingerbread man, not knowing what else to do, screamed too. This made him the smartest gingerbread man that ever lived. Some may argue this was the only Gingerbread man to ever live, but that is beside the point. Using his animal instinct, he crawled and wondered if he could stand on his leg ends. The Gingerbread man got up and wobbled. Meanwhile, the little old lady fainted again. Although he couldn’t smell, he saw the oasis that was the outside world. Cautiously he took his first steps. He kept going, until he hit something that he couldn’t see, the last barrier to outside. To his surprise the nothing broke. He tried again. It worked.
Hey Ross your story is going realy good. i Like it how in some places you have bits where the naration really works well with the story i.e (
''Although the little old man wasn’t breaking any speed records ( walking frames aren’t overly aerodynamic you see)'',
These little bits of narative i find work great!
So anyway he has just transformed into a fully living and breathing freaking awesome ginerbread and hopefully a lethal killing machine lol.
Maybe the next thing he could do is just cause some mayhem down the streets? godzila style? he could eat children for instance, take on the police.... and maybe what could tame him is he comes across another Ginger bread man only this one is not a man at all, it is but a ginger bread girl!... you could perhaps work off that. i know i would be keen to read a bit of a ginger bread romance!
I spot a baked goods fettish going on here louie? that romance idea could be interesting and provides plenty of scope.. ill get to work! but godzilla could also be fun. hmm. how big is a full grown mutant gingerbread man?.
Well nothing beats mum's home made cheese muffins on a sunday!
But as long as your doh boy is big enough to say, pick up a few cars and throw them through the air, i think you will have the height issue sorted :)
G.M’s BIG day.
In a land far away, but in this current day, lived a little old man and a little old woman with a fondness for gingerbread men. One fine morning the little old man and little old woman were compelled to make just one, for there appetite was seldom large. Upon consultation of the pantry, they discovered a shortage of flour. “Bollocks” they exclaimed at the exact same time, as you would if you were one cupful of flour short of a gingerbread man.
Wandering the isle’s of the local Woolworths they came across flour. Amongst the stacks of flour, large as they were, lay a new variety of flour. Curious, and blind to the fact that it had a “Genetically Modified Product” sticker on the packet ( it did not help that today both had forgotten there glasses, with the stress that flour shopping brings) they purchased 5 kg’s of it, for this frustration never helps the health.
Following the quick baking procedure (one of the many appealing traits of gingerbread men) they removed the gingerbread man from the oven (not a second to soon I may add). While cooling, He was iced and clothed with cherry buttons and raisin eyes in proper gingerbread man fashion. They soon popped off, creating a great deal of confusion, for they were only held by icing, but flew off , as do buttons of clothes that don’t fit. They cautiously watched the Gingerbread man as he grew like no other. Around 60 cm’s (we all know that good gingerbread men are 15 centimeters tall) small muscles formed and he started wriggling. The little old lady fainted. The little old man shuffled off to find rope.
Although the little old man wasn’t breaking any speed records ( walking frames aren’t overly aerodynamic you see), the Gingerbread man definitely was. He doubled in height in minutes. The wriggling slowly became controlled, and crawling came soon after. All was well, until he fell off the bench, slicing his arm end on the way down. A steady trickle of milk followed. The old lady eventually woke up and helped the distraught gingerbread man. She was still in shock, but her mother instinct forced her to get the gelatin to clot the cut.
The old man shuffled back, holding rope. He screamed ( in a manly way of course) and retreated. The Gingerbread man, not knowing what else to do, screamed too. This made him the smartest gingerbread man that ever lived. Some may argue this was the only Gingerbread man to ever live, but that is beside the point. Using his animal instinct, he crawled and wondered if he could stand on his leg ends. The Gingerbread man got up and wobbled. Meanwhile, the little old lady fainted again. Although he couldn’t smell, he saw the oasis that was the outside world. Cautiously he took his first steps. He kept going, until he hit something that he couldn’t see, the last barrier to outside (known to humans as glass). To his surprise the nothing broke. He tried again. It worked.
He was free! and with that thoroughly ecstatic. Luckily today was towards the end of summer, for he was a Gingerbread man lacking in buttons, but no one was there to take offence. He strolled on somewhat cautiously, for over yonder he had never been. As he strolled he befriended the locals (birds and honey bees), fascinated by that such things existed. Eventually in the background he heard the whirring of 2 electric motors (or he would have had he had ears, but through dancing the bees showed him what was up). He carried on with a new found haste, and roared in detest at the little old lady and little old man. This roar was somehow interpreted as “Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!” for the little old lady and little old mans medication was strong to say the least.
He ran, although at somewhat over 3 meters tall he really didn’t have to worry, or did he? . The little old lady and little old man, in panic, summoned a few local animals (after further investigation we know the little old lady and little old man went under the last name of Doolittle) to pursue the gingerbread man, for he had yet to earn that glass paine back.
The pig attempted first, until he saw how big the Gingerbread man was (now a astonishing 6 meters tall). He followed at a safe distance, for he was prize pork, it would be a tragedy to lose him. The Gingerbread man remained oblivious to him, but yawned. For this fresh air in such quantities was enough to make anyone tired. This sent tremors through the pig’s spine, he just wanted to be tucked up in his brick house. That’s just what he set off to do.
Round 2, the dog was up. Fearless as ever, he took to the gingerbread man with a reckless abandon. Ouch. The dog made a stealth attack, with plans of eating the Gingerbread man. The dog struck, and was struck in return. It turned out his eyes were much larger than his stomach, and he didn’t really have the mind for physics. He limped home, worried that his dog biscuits had too come to life.
Finally the horse had a go, although disheartened by the others attempts. The Gingerbread man waited, with a glucose drop trickling from his eye, for a mouth-sized chunk never comes out painlessly. He watched as the horse appeared, and disappeared into the horizon. In the distance, “bollocks!” was repeatedly exclaimed, followed by a phone call to AMI.
The Gingerbread man continued, somewhat disheartened and lonely, for if the animals wouldn’t accept him, then who would? In the distance, he spotted a muffin. Such a beautiful sight was unknown to him, so voluptuous and smoothly iced. He blushed. Jumping creeks and mounds, clearing trees and (in the pursuit of happieness) he unknowingly squashed a cunning fox, that wasn’t so cunning.
-Ross Wood
Ok so there goes, A complete story, but would I be right in saying that a peice of fanfiction should never be finished?. I don't think so.
Bravo Ross, your piece captured my imagination to the fullest extent! A++ from me for an awesome version of the G.B Man!
Yours is so cute!!
I felt pity for gingerbreadman
but at last I think u got all things like tensive climax, detailed narration, for example, (we all know that good gingerbread men are 15 centimeters tall) and the happiest moment too.
I also like the funny happy ending and this 'glucose drop trickling from his eye' LOL
Thank you Louie and Ji-eun for your kind words! It did come out rather well, but it still is in dire need of work, can anyone suggest improvements? I've been asked to 'tighten it up', which is understandable.
PS. This assignment requires discussion, *wink**wink**nudge**nudge*
Hey Ross, i think it is time for us to 'tighten' up our works, so suggestions for yours, i am a little unsure because i believe it is good how it is. But maybe perhaps cutting out a few pieces, the story doesn't ramble but any story can do with a review of parts that may not be needed, have a look and let me know what you think. i am doing the same with mine too!
So there we have a copy with a few slight changes, structure and style remain very much intact. If someone could be very critical it would be great, it's hard to properly scrutinize your own work.
G.M’s BIG day.
In a land far away, but in this current day, lived a little old man and a little old woman with a fondness for gingerbread men. One fine morning the little old man and little old woman were compelled to make just one, for their appetite was seldom large. Upon consultation of the pantry, they discovered a shortage of flour. “Bollocks” they exclaimed at the exact same time, as you would if you were one cupful of flour short of a gingerbread man.
Wandering the isle’s of the local Woolworths they came across flour. Amongst the stacks of flour, large as they were, lay a new variety of flour. Curious, and blind to the fact that it had a “Genetically Modified Product” sticker on the packet ( it did not help that today both had forgotten there glasses, with the stress that flour shopping brings) they purchased 5 kg’s of it, for this frustration never helps the health.
Following the quick baking procedure (one of the many appealing traits of gingerbread men) they removed the gingerbread man from the oven (not a second to soon I may add). While cooling, He was iced and clothed with cherry buttons and raisin eyes in proper gingerbread man fashion. They soon popped off, creating a great deal of confusion, for they were only held by icing, but flew off , as do buttons of clothes that don’t fit. They cautiously watched the Gingerbread man as he grew like no other. Around 60 cm’s (we all know that good gingerbread men are 15 centimeters tall) small muscles formed and he started wriggling. The little old lady fainted. The little old man shuffled off to find rope.
Although the little old man wasn’t breaking any speed records (walking frames aren’t overly aerodynamic you see), the Gingerbread man definitely was. He doubled in height in minutes. The wriggling slowly became controlled, and crawling came soon after. All was well, until he fell off the bench, slicing his arm end on the way down. A steady trickle of milk followed. The old lady eventually woke up and helped the distraught gingerbread man. She was still in shock, but her mother instinct forced her to get the gelatin to clot the cut.
The old man shuffled back, holding rope. He screamed ( in a manly way of course) and retreated. The Gingerbread man, not knowing what else to do, screamed too. This made him the smartest gingerbread man that ever lived. Some may argue this was the only Gingerbread man to ever live, but that is beside the point. Using his animal instinct, he crawled and wondered if he could stand on his leg ends. The Gingerbread man got up and wobbled. Meanwhile, the little old lady fainted again. Although he couldn’t smell, he saw the oasis that was the outside world. Cautiously he took his first steps. He kept going, until he hit something that he couldn’t see, the last barrier to outside (known to humans as glass). To his surprise the nothing broke. He tried again. It worked.
He was free! and with that thoroughly ecstatic. Luckily today was towards the end of summer, for he was a Gingerbread man lacking in buttons, but no one was there to take offence. He strolled on somewhat cautiously, over yonder he had never been. As he strolled he befriended the locals (birds and honey bees), fascinated that such things existed. Eventually in the background he heard the whirring of 2 electric motors (or he would have had he had ears, but through dancing the bees showed him what was happening). He carried on with a new found haste, and roared in detest at the little old lady and little old man. This roar was somehow interpreted as “Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!” The little old lady and little old man’s medication was strong to say the least.
He ran, although at somewhat over 3 meters tall he really didn’t have to worry, or did he? The little old lady and little old man, in panic, summoned a few local animals (after further investigation we know the little old lady and little old man went under the last name of Doolittle) to pursue the gingerbread man. He had broken their window, an inexcusable crime .
The pig attempted first, until he saw how big the Gingerbread man was (now an astonishing 6 meters tall). He followed at a safe distance, for he was prize pork, it would be a tragedy to lose him. The Gingerbread man remained oblivious to him, but yawned. For this fresh air in such quantities was enough to make anyone tired. This sent tremors through the pig’s spine; he just wanted to be tucked up in his brick house. That’s just what he set off to do.
Round 2, the dog was up. Fearless as ever, he took to the gingerbread man with a reckless abandon. Ouch. The dog made a stealth attack, with plans of eating the Gingerbread man. The dog struck, and was struck in return. It turned out his eyes were much larger than his stomach, and he didn’t really have the mental capability for physics. He soared home, worried that his dog biscuits had also come to life.
Finally the horse had a go, although thoroughly disheartened by the others attempts. The Gingerbread man waited, with a glucose drop trickling from his eye, for a mouth-sized chunk never comes out painlessly. He watched as the horse appeared, and disappeared into the horizon. In the distance, “bollocks!” was repeatedly exclaimed, followed by a phone call to AMI.
The Gingerbread man continued, somewhat disheartened and lonely, for if the animals wouldn’t accept him, then who would? At that very moment, he spotted a muffin. Such a beautiful sight was unknown to him, so voluptuous and smoothly iced. She was perfectly round, clothed in paper that glistened like a glucose drop, his heart fluttered. He blushed. Jumping creeks and mounds, clearing trees and (in the pursuit of happiness) he unknowingly squashed a cunning fox, that wasn’t so cunning.
-Ross
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