Mistletoe Immunity - TSP Episode 7Threadbare South ParkMistletoe Immunity - TSP Episode 72 years ago in Humor More Like This
Episode #7: "Mistletoe Immunity: A Musical Christmas Adventure"
(TSP Season 1 Episode 7)
NOTE: This piece is written in the form of a script. It contains naughty language. Mr. Garrison speaks for Mr. Hat. Kenny's lines are parenthesized to indicate that they are muffled. This story takes place when the kids are in the third grade.
ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS EPISODE--EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE--ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CANON CHARACTERS' LINES ARE WRITTEN BY THREADBARESP...POORLY. THE FOLLOWING SCRIPT CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.
The kids are in the third grade classroom, staring at the clock as Mr. Garrison speaks.
Mr. Garrison: So that's how Napoleon celebrated Christmas in 1962. Are there any questions?
Cartman: Come on, come on could this clock move any slower?
Mr. Garrison: Excuse me, Eric
Those WordsIt’s alright.Those Words1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’m not going to judge your decision.
You’re not going to judge my decision.
You’re not going to judge
I appreciate that,
No, I lied.
I appreciate the effort.
I appreciate the effort you made
to tell me that you’ll still be here.
But those words,
those tiny, insignificant words,
It makes me cringe every time I hear
and I hear them far too often.
I hate those words with all of my being.
No matter how much I plead
that you don’t say them anymore
I know that you still think them.
I’ve spent bleary-eyed nights trying to tell you
that it’s not a choice,
because IT ISN’T.
I don’t know how to say it differently.
I never asked to be like this.
I never asked for everyone to look at me differently.
I never asked to be tormented by my feelings.
I never asked to be treated like I’m different,
just because of a part of me beyond my decision.
I never a
If Only...If Only...2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
If only I had a friend like you...
And you were real
You would help me to
Believe and overcome
With your gentle, yet rough, comments.
I would be able to Fly.
The Problem with Self Inserts The Problem with Self InsertsThe Problem with Self Inserts 1 year ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
There is nothing wrong with inserting yourself into a story. Like anything, it can be well done or... not so well done. The fact is, the majority of people who tend to write about self inserts happen to be beginners. Naturally, that causes there to be a pattern of certain, specific mistakes that are frequently found whilst reading anything on the internet. The purpose of this deviation isn't to say that self inserts are bad. I'm simply going to point out the most common mistakes that we usually encounter.
1. Making ourselves better than we really are.
Don't be fooled by the word "better." This can be replaced with mysterious, deep, dark, tragic, romantic, lovable... anything we want. Maybe a mix of a few of those things. The point is, the version of ourselves will be biased.
2. Not making anything bad happen to yourself
Let's talk about the word "bad." Does this mean something, perhaps, like... getting a disease? No. It means anything that interferes with
Goodbye Yesterday (KorPiri fic preview)Maricela's eyes widened as the young man's body came hurtling down, breaking through the aquatic surface and sinking into the deep blue. The wave jolted, thrashing up onto the grassy shore just metres from her position. Her breath was caught in her throat as she watched and waited on the riverside. Would that man resurface or not?Goodbye Yesterday (KorPiri fic preview)1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
She had only noticed him briefly before the occurrence. A stranger had a hand pressed to the back of this young man's head and then he fell limp from the bridge they stood on. The stranger disappeared as the man took a dive into the river below. She didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't her business.
Still, this young man was not appearing. Maricela glanced around – nobody else was helping..! She hastily shoved her books and stationary onto the lush green and hurried into the water. Drawing in a quick breath, she plunged herself underwater. The water wasn't all that dirty. It didn't take long for her to spot the young man, but it was going to be tougher w
ShadowsThey crawl at the edges,Shadows2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Creeping, slowly moving forward.
I cannot escape from them.
They want to drag me down,
Down into that deep dark abyss,
Where you never see the light again.
How can I escape?
There's no way out.
They're going to get me,
And swallow me whole.
The shadows tear at the edge of my sanity.
Laughing at me.
I can see demonic smiles in the shadows
The demons want me.
How can I escape?
They're after me.
With their mocking laughs,
Their taunting smiles,
Their claws ripping at my spirit.
I can't escape the shadows,
They follow me everywhere.
Soon they will get me,
And I'll be one with the shadows.
Finally, they will have what they want.
pro-choice"Because I had had sex, someone thought I deserved to die." (Cerullo qtd. in Hadley 79) "She was bleeding at the wrong time, and it didn't stop. She went to the emergency room here at a Catholic hospital, and they refused to take care of her. They just flatly refused…they would not touch her because she might be pregnant, and they might disturb the child. She continued to bleed." (Paley 8)pro-choice8 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"I found out I was pregnant when I was fourteen. I didn't get a period. I talked to nobody. I panicked. I sat in hot baths. I drank these strange concoctions girls told me about—something like Johnny Walker Red with a little bit of Clorox, alcohol, baking soda—which probably saved my stomach—and some sort of cream. You mixed it all up. I got violently ill." (Goldberg 116)
"I didn't make any noise at all. I bit through my lip. I tried n
We're all BeautifulWe're all Beautiful2 years ago in Editorial More Like This
You know, we don't have to be beautiful to show our colors, we can either be plain and utterly ordinary, but still we're beautiful on the inside and the outside.
Girls don't have to be super skinny or beautifully blond to know that they're beautiful and there are guys out there that they would think that those girls are the most beautiful person in the world. From plain to ugly to pretty to utterly beautiful are all adjectives in order to describe a person. And truely, I believe, that are all created to be the person that God intended us to be.
From having three fingers, a narrow jaw covered by years of surgeries, to having big, beautiful, brown eyes, and a shaved head are nothing compared to what we will look like in heaven.
People are beautiful -of all shapes and sizes, of races and colors- no matter what others might say. We are all, beautifully and wonderfully made, in God's image and we do not have to conceal our inner beauty to be what the world w
Dealing with Art Thieves, Trolls and ScammersdeviantART is a lovely site, one of the best I've come across. However, like all good things, it has it's bad side. This guide teaches you how to deal with those really bad things, art thieves, trolls and scammers.Dealing with Art Thieves, Trolls and Scammers2 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
These people can be really distressing for an artist. They can find themselves in a situation which they don't know how to handle. Hopefully, this first part should guide you on how to deal with them.
~If someone steals your art
If you are informed or find out yourself that your artwork was stolen, go straight to the deviation and proceed with these three steps:
Step 1: Say something like 'This art is stolen, please delete it.' If, within a week, the art is gone, forget about it. If not, carry on to step two.
Step 2: Return to the deviation and tell them again 'This art has been stolen from me, delete it.'. Again, if the art is gone within a week, forget about it.
mistthe wispy girlmist2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of steam and smoke
wishes she was not
she presses her palms to the window pane
breath misting the glass
skin leaving a stain,
her fingers are veined with
black, white and grey
writing her name
the people within think of tracks left by rain
the coiling girl
of smoke and steam
wants to be more than
but she cannot escape the vapour and haze
and the wind
takes her away
Non-RefundableChild; a gift? Warranty not included.Non-Refundable2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
One of the Girls: A South Park Fanfic - Pt. 4"One of the Girls"One of the Girls: A South Park Fanfic - Pt. 42 years ago in Humor More Like This
Part 4. That's Amore
Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and Charlie enter the gymnasium, which has been decked out with streamers and balloons for the dance.
Token, wearing a tuxedo and a frown, greets them at the door.
"Welcome to the Martin Luther King Day dance," he says in a tired monotone. "Please leave your coats in the storage closet. Direct all music requests to the DJ."
Kyle, Kenny, and Charlie head over to deposit their coats in the closet. Cartman doesn't: he stays rooted to the spot, looking around the gymnasium in confusion.
"Token," he says after a long pause, " the fuck?"
"Where are all the Cajuns and gangstahs and professional athletes?" Cartman demands.
"What are you talking about? It's a dance. Go dance," Token says with annoyance, gesturing toward the mostly empty dance floor.
Cartman glares at Token. "Goddamn it! I came here for soul and funk and rhythm and blues, not middle-class white suburban garbage! I want my racial stereotypes!"
The Amphibious PrinceWhat for a kiss, dear frog?The Amphibious Prince2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Reminiscent of ChildhoodLazy autumn days;Reminiscent of Childhood2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Crimson leaves falling with grace
Down, down forever.
Rainbow sprinkled bread
Like fairy dust on my tongue,
A delicious treat
A humble teddy,
Waiting expectantly for
Me. I’ll come tonight.
Wet Saturday morn,
A field of sludge and grass
Torn by flailing wood
I remember childhood joy,
So fresh, so vivid
If only those days
Of innocent play & smiles
Would return once more
For now, however,
I am content in memoirs;
So, I reminisce.
Deathly SilenceDeath and rhymeDeathly Silence1 year ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Until the end of time
They shall always be a part of each other.
No matter how far or near they become,
They will always overshadow the other.
Death and peace
Blessed and Unique
Thrown all away, yes thrown all the way
Going home, shedding skin
Felt like a monster that abides within
Scales over the eyes
Slit in the tongue
Rows of teeth
Sharp and each one unique
Death and Peace
Death and songs
Thrown all the way
Yes, thrown all the way
Back to the grave
Back to the dust
Blessed and Darkness
Should not have been around
Under this circumstance
Deadly and unique
Falls out of place
Dating: It's a Process - TSP Valentine's SpecialThreadbare South Park: Valentine's Day SpecialDating: It's a Process - TSP Valentine's Special2 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Dating: It's a Process"
Contest Entry Version
To ze lovely readers from the Kyle Broflovski Fan Club:
This is (obviously) an entry for the Valentine's Day contest. The story is set when the kids are in the fourth grade. I feel I must warn you about something: this story is an abridged version of an "episode" of my South Park fanfiction series, and it centers around Kyle and an original character. Now, I can see the wincing and cringing, but bear with me it isn't as bad as it sounds.
Thank you and enjoy.
ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS EPISODEEVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLEARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CANON CHARACTERS' LINES ARE WRITTEN BY THREADBARESP.... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING SCRIPT CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.
DATE: JAN. 27 (FRIDAY)
TIME: 09:04 PM
COUNTDOWN: 18 DAYS
Stan and Charlie
My AmbitionsMy Ambitions.My Ambitions2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
People tell me I have talent.
And my attempts at poetry are noble and valiant.
I want my words to leave a mark on this earth.
I write for myself, to give me some sort of worth.
I still think anyone is capable doing I what I do.
Paint the same or an even better image of the one I just drew.
I've been accepted by a few, but rejected by many.
This life is perpetual and the strain is getting heavy.
I write for you, as well as for me.
I write from my heart, to set my mind free.
A man who writes poetry isn't the epitome of masculinity.
I had to disregard the stereotype and over come the humility.
My writing is all I have and it's the one thing I can control.
That's why its not just words your reading, it's a piece of my soul.
I want to be liked and to appeal to everyone.
But I've learnt this ambition can never be truly done.
I write for my family, so they can be proud of their first creation.
Although I don't show it, they will always have my love and appreciation.
I'm hoping a