Over the Top
Write an exaggerated over the top pulp fiction with monsters, sci-fi, whatever.
TL;DR - Write an over-the-top story, a pulp fiction pushed to the limits. One week. 1000 words max. Link to your in the comments if you want to.
This challenge from Terrible Minds had been to write something over the top. It was described as pulp fiction morphing into pulp insanity. To just push the limits and be silly about it.
My Fairy Tale Folk were keen on this, so it went to four of them: Agnes the witch, Romulus the wolf, Bruce the woodcutter, and Red the riding hood. Oh, and a new addition, Barney the purple dinosaur. They used their magic for some pretty impressive transformations.
My story, after the ‘assistant’ fluffed it up, was 1200 words.
Over the Top
“Looks more like a Dominatrix than an Amazon princess,” said the wolf.
“This is my interpretation of the basic story,” said the witch, “and how I’ll use my powers to build up the character.”
“Well, you’ve certainly fleshed this one out,” said the wolf. “And it’s not so much that leather costume, as the spaces in it - we’ll be getting an R-rating.”
“I think she looks good,” said Red. “We can’t always do sanitized fairy tales. I want to explore more after my 300 years in the same old same old. I picked Zombie Queen - with sharp teeth and long painted nails.”
“More like zombie slut,” said the witch. “A dead Jessica Rabbit. But in a nice way. That cleavage will likely shock the Grimms, but it will sell well and get more outsourcing gigs.”
“I stuck with me,” said the wolf. “But it’s pulp fiction so I cranked it up to Werewolf, with added speed and laser eyes.”
“That would explain those red dots on Red’s boobs,” said the woodcutter.
“Oops, busted,” said the wolf. “Sorry, they’re just so big. Great way for a zombie to distract her victim. But look at you, Danger Dan, just a simple hero, seven feet tall, with two light sabres and jet boots.”
“I’ll need all this to fight our monster here,” said the woodcutter. He turned to their fifth member. “How’s all that makeup and props going? Toned down the purple at least?”
“I’m newer at this,” said Barney, “so I can’t add details as easily. Glad I joined up though, way more fun than dancing through fields of flowers.”
“Those eye-stalks and tentacles look great,” said the witch. “Sort of a Flying Spaghetti Monster thing.”
“My challenge will be to wave them all and remember the plot too,” said Barney.
“It’s pulp fiction,” said the wolf. “We don’t need no stinkin’ plot. Let’s go.”
______________________________
Full disclosure. When I wrote this back in 2012, I did a good job of pushing the limits. making my characters more extreme, adding extravagant adjectives. Any AI type assistance I ever use is limited to the occasional spell-checking.
But I thought I’d try an experiment. I kept the above intro talk between my characters, but pasted the rest from here on into ChatGPT and asked it to add lots of very descriptive adjectives. Granted, I did paste in a good story for the AI to crank up, with over the top characters and lots of silly/fancy description, but I’m both impressed and alarmed at how easy this was to push even farther. I prefer using my own skills in writing, but I can see this could tempt people. This tool is so easy to use for ‘writing’, and while the output might be mediocre, formulaic, and repetitive, I think that there is an audience out there for it, willing to pay for it. Sigh.
Here is the ChatGPT result, definitely over the top.
“Help,” cried the statuesque, wild-haired Amazon princess, tossing her luxuriant, sun-streaked locks over her graceful shoulder. “My shapely, bronze-toned leg is caught in these thick, writhing jungle vines, and the horrible, decaying Zombie Queen is getting closer.”
A deep, heroic, unmistakably manly cry rang out through the steamy, shadow-drenched jungle. “Never fear, Danger Dan is here!” There was a thunderous roar of flame, a distant metallic crash, a billowing cloud of acrid smoke, followed by some hacking, sputtering coughing. She heard someone muttering irritably, “It’s OK, I’m alright.”
A tall, broad-shouldered he-man strode confidently out of the swirling smoke, powerful muscles slick and glinting with perspiration as they rippled beneath the golden-brown skin of his bare, sculpted chest, a short, rugged kilt swirling suggestively around his thick, muscular thighs, his firm, square jaw set in a resolute, heroic line. He smiled down at her with easy confidence as he casually fondled his humming, luminous lightsaber. “Now what seems to be the problem here, little lady?”
Her generous, gravity-defying breasts heaved noticeably as she tugged at her beautifully formed leg. “Oh, my brave, magnificent hero! Help me, I’m trapped. I was just resting here, peacefully contemplating some plump, fascinating gourds, when this sneaky, over-affectionate plant started sucking on my toes. It was quite nice at first, like hundreds of tiny, wet, adoring tongues, but then my tiny little foot got swallowed whole, and it won’t let me go. And now the hideous, shambling Zombie Queen and her blood-thirsty, slack-jawed warriors have found me.”
Dan turned lithely and alertly. “Which one is the Zombie Queen?” he asked. “They all look the same.”
“That one,” she said, pointing a delicately manicured, elegant finger. “The one with the two glowing red dots on her sagging boobs.”
“Busted,” croaked the Zombie Queen. “Damn your sharp eyes, Werewolf. Quick, you mangy, furry fiend from Hell, attack them while I shamble closer.”
Before Dan could even react, there was a sudden whoosh, a sharp slap on his butt, a pungent smell of wet fur, and a taunting, singsong voice. “Run run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the Werewolf Man.”
“Really?” said the Zombie Queen flatly. “That’s it? This isn’t tag—kill them, you idiot.”
Danger Dan whirled back and forth, graceful and deadly, poetry in violent motion, ready to strike, but the lean, twitchy Werewolf bounded from shadow to shadow, too fast and erratic to follow.
“It’s OK, I’ve got this,” said the Amazon princess calmly. She somehow produced a slender, polished blowgun from her skimpy, impractical costume and raised it to her full, determined lips.
“Secret Amazon poison?” Dan asked.
“Ketamine,” she said crisply. She winked playfully at him as she inhaled deeply, then her soft, plush lips caressed the end of the tube. There was a sharp puff of air, followed by a distant, startled cry.
“Well done,” said Danger Dan approvingly.
She smiled and licked her lip delicately. “It’s all about technique. Now it’s your turn.”
“What?” said Dan.
“The Zombie Queen,” she said urgently, “she’s right behind you.”
“Oh yes,” said Dan smoothly. He smiled and casually drew his gleaming lightsaber. Without even turning, he swung behind his back—there was a wet grunt, a heavy thud, and a severed head rolled between them, one milky eye dangling grotesquely from its socket, tongue blackened and swollen. Dan casually kicked it aside, whipped out his wickedly sharp knife, and knelt at the princess’s shapely ankle. “Now let’s get that pretty little foot out of this greedy plant.”
She stroked his broad back appreciatively as he hacked at the stubborn vines. She had somehow also managed to tangle her skimpy, fragile costume in the foliage, so there wasn’t much left of it by the time he finally cut her free.
“Sorry about the outfit,” he said apologetically.
“That’s all right,” she replied, resting a delicate hand on his warm, muscled chest. “It’s served its purpose.”
She pressed herself closer, twined a long, smooth leg around his, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back expectantly. Dan wrapped a strong arm around her, bent his head down . . .
“Argh! Roar!” They both spun to face the new menace—a huge, nightmarish monster, slick with slime, massive tentacles waving wildly, wobbling eye-stalks bobbing in front of a gaping maw lined with glistening teeth, red with drooling saliva. An enormous, terrifying, yet faintly purple monster.
“Run away, run away,” cried the princess, desperately trying to hold her ruined costume together.
Dan pulled out both blazing light sabres, planted his feet firmly, and cried, “Never fear, Danger Dan is here!”
The princess clung to Dan like a panicked limpet in a raging storm, arms locked tightly around his waist, as the monster charged closer and closer, roaring, snarling, gnashing its teeth, tentacles and eye-stalks flailing almost randomly. Suddenly, it stopped roaring and started swearing. “Oh shit, watch out, bugger, watch out, too many, damn, can’t handle . . .”
They watched in astonishment as the monster stepped on an eyestalk, then a tentacle, tripped awkwardly, rolled, tumbled, and slid to a halt mere inches from their feet.
“Sorry, guys. Take two?”