Young Writers Society

With a shriek and a flurry of sparkles, Joe transformed into a carrot.

“They’re my bones, thank you. Can you kindly get out of them?”

"Did I tell you all about how I managed to parallel park the car yesterday? The neighbor's new Toyota didn't even burst into flames and slide down the hill this time-- wait."

"...So you know what a plantation is," Matthew said, slowly, "but you don't know what chinchillas and Renaissance fairs are?"

Well, out of all the ways to die, flirting with the wrong person seemed like a pretty cool way to go, at least. Maybe they wouldn't walk away thinking, "Beckett was a lesbian," but instead, "Beckett was a player."

Internally, Karter winced. His first instinct had to stop being "pelt the scary thing with tomatoes."

But no student came out of the bushes. Instead, the bushes stood up.

"Let's get back to pasta and revolutions, shall we?" Oliver said.

Sadie nodded, satisfied. "They are pretty phish-y. Chaos goblin. But does good work."

You think being a ghost protects you from the Nightman? You're corporeal and the Nightman is a demon. You're getting yeeted.

"Aren't there parts in those that you can't eat?" Mid asked

Potash turned her head slowly and stared him directly in the eyes. "Everything is edible if you put your mind to it." She deliberately continued chewing the crab, making more cROncH sounds.

Mid stared at his banana. Then put one of the very large seeds in his mouth.

She had Darvi the Paranoid to help her out, but that was only for a couple of tasks. Like Not Dying and Staying Alive.

Yellow roses are banned from any house I work with. It is a part of my contract.

"I have taken all the moments," Tiberius said, beginning to walk with the swagger of an old man who was in pain. "I am done with the moments. The moment is over now."

Shane didn't understand how the beans were sad, but if he were a bean, he'd hate to be crying.

Mireya snorted. "Bullfighting isn't a genetic condition, Andy."

Tiberius handed the shirt to Hild in the most robotic way possible. Like a undead mime who woke up from its grave.