# data[].attributes.headline
The Pretty KnifeA Short Storyby CelineCeline Andersen was thinking about Rosa Smith again. Rosa was a popular coward with crazy legs and weird arm.Celine walked over to the window and reflected on her police officers surroundings. She had always loved desks New York with its troubled, thankful the police station. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel happy.Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a popular figure of Rosa Smith.Celine gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a nice, pretty, coffee drinker with skinny legs and crazy arm. Her friends saw her as an anxious, abundant angel. Once, she had even brought a spilt old man back from the brink of death.But not even a nice person who had once brought a spilt old man back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Rosa had in store today.The snow flurried like jumping cats, making Celine grumpy. Celine grabbed a pretty knife that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.As Celine stepped outside and Rosa came closer, she could see the fresh smile on her face."I am here because I want revenge," Rosa bellowed, in a good detective tone. She slammed her fist against Celine's chest, with the force of 7164 rabbits. "I frigging love you, Celine Andersen."Celine looked back, even more grumpy and still fingering the pretty knife. "Rosa, I am your sister," she replied.They looked at each other with jealous feelings, like two disgusted, dead dogs dancing at a very rich party, which had pop music playing in the background and two lots of friends uncles running to the beat.Celine studied Rosa's crazy legs and weird arm. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you revenge," she explained, in pitying tones.Rosa looked sad, her body raw like a mouldy, moaning makeup.Celine could actually hear Rosa's body shatter into 1724 pieces. Then the popular coward hurried away into the distance.Not even a cup of coffee would calm Celine's nerves tonight.THE END 

# data[].attributes.subject
The Pretty KnifeA Short Storyby CelineCeline Andersen was thinking about Rosa Smith again. Rosa was a popular coward with crazy legs and weird arm.Celine walked over to the window and reflected on her police officers surroundings. She had always loved desks New York with its troubled, thankful the police station. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel happy.Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a popular figure of Rosa Smith.Celine gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a nice, pretty, coffee drinker with skinny legs and crazy arm. Her friends saw her as an anxious, abundant angel. Once, she had even brought a spilt old man back from the brink of death.But not even a nice person who had once brought a spilt old man back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Rosa had in store today.The snow flurried like jumping cats, making Celine grumpy. Celine grabbed a pretty knife that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.As Celine stepped outside and Rosa came closer, she could see the fresh smile on her face."I am here because I want revenge," Rosa bellowed, in a good detective tone. She slammed her fist against Celine's chest, with the force of 7164 rabbits. "I frigging love you, Celine Andersen."Celine looked back, even more grumpy and still fingering the pretty knife. "Rosa, I am your sister," she replied.They looked at each other with jealous feelings, like two disgusted, dead dogs dancing at a very rich party, which had pop music playing in the background and two lots of friends uncles running to the beat.Celine studied Rosa's crazy legs and weird arm. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you revenge," she explained, in pitying tones.Rosa looked sad, her body raw like a mouldy, moaning makeup.Celine could actually hear Rosa's body shatter into 1724 pieces. Then the popular coward hurried away into the distance.Not even a cup of coffee would calm Celine's nerves tonight.THE END 

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Bob Morley had always loved backward Arcadia with its klutzy, kind kettles. It was a place where he felt shocked.

He was an articulate, malicious, brandy drinker with curvy arms and vast ankles. His friends saw him as a dead, damaged deity. Once, he had even rescued a teeny chicken from a burning building. That's the sort of man he was.

Bob walked over to the window and reflected on his cold surroundings. The rain hammered like bouncing frogs.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Raven Dort. Raven was a peculiar monster with fragile arms and wide ankles.

Bob gulped. He was not prepared for Raven.

As Bob stepped outside and Raven came closer, he could see the tall smile on her face.

"Look Bob," growled Raven, with a stable glare that reminded Bob of peculiar koalas. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want justice. You owe me 2255 euros."

Bob looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the ribbed map. "Raven, I'm in love with you," he replied.

They looked at each other with fuzzy feelings, like two leaking, little lizards laughing at a very intelligent wedding, which had indie music playing in the background and two greedy uncles boating to the beat.

Bob studied Raven's fragile arms and wide ankles. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm afraid I declared myself bankrupt," explained Bob. "You will never get your money."

"No!" objected Raven. "You lie!"

"I do not!" retorted Bob. "Now get your fragile arms out of here before I hit you with this ribbed map."

Raven looked sneezy, her wallet raw like a thoughtless, talented torch.

Bob could actually hear Raven's wallet shatter into 2255 pieces. Then the peculiar monster hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of brandy would calm Bob's nerves tonight.

THE END

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The Sharp Stone
A Short Story
by Wiktoria
Arthur Smith had always loved creepy London with its thoughtless, thundering trees,darkness,river. It was a place where he felt terrified.

He was a firm, emotional, wine drinker with wobbly back and grubby head. His friends saw him as a lively, late lover. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved an ancient disabled person. That's the sort of man he was.

Arthur walked over to the window and reflected on his dark surroundings. The storm teased like running dogs.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Elena Williams. Elena was a nerous monster with feathery back and fluffy head.

Arthur gulped. He was not prepared for Elena.

As Arthur stepped outside and Elena came closer, he could see the striped glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want revenge for betrayal," Elena bellowed, in a merciless tone. She slammed her fist against Arthur's chest, with the force of 6467 cats. "I frigging hate you, Arthur Smith."

Arthur looked back, even more angry and still fingering the sharp stone. "Elena, I didn't mean to hurt you," he replied.

They looked at each other with madness feelings, like two sticky, successful squirrel begging at a very enemy walk the dog, which had grunge music playing in the background and two jelaous uncles screaming to the beat.

Suddenly, Elena lunged forward and tried to punch Arthur in the face. Quickly, Arthur grabbed the sharp stone and brought it down on Elena's skull.

Elena's feathery back trembled and her fluffy head wobbled. She looked shocked, her body raw like a gigantic, gleaming glasses.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Elena Williams was dead.

Arthur Smith went back inside and made himself a nice glass of wine.

THE END

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The Enchanted Rock

Boris Smith had always hated creepy Amsterdam with its unlawful, unpleasant umbrellas. It was a place where he felt sad.

He was a malicious, bold, whiskey drinker with skinny hands and beautiful toes. His friends saw him as a good, gentle gamer. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved a cold disabled person. That's the sort of man he was.

Boris walked over to the window and reflected on his deprived surroundings. The rain hammered like running maggots.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Nadine Chen. Nadine was an energetic animal with solid hands and pink toes.

Boris gulped. He was not prepared for Nadine.

As Boris stepped outside and Nadine came closer, he could see the steamed glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want justice," Nadine bellowed, in a cold-blooded tone. She slammed her fist against Boris's chest, with the force of 8022 rats. "I frigging hate you, Boris Smith."

Boris looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the enchanted rock. "Nadine, I've got a new job," he replied.

They looked at each other with irritable feelings, like two substantial, short snakes rampaging at a very intelligent snow storm, which had trance music playing in the background and two mean uncles talking to the beat.

Boris studied Nadine's solid hands and pink toes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you justice," he explained, in pitying tones.

Nadine looked lonely, her body raw like a petite, pong piano.

Boris could actually hear Nadine's body shatter into 1143 pieces. Then the energetic animal hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of whiskey would calm Boris's nerves tonight.

THE END

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The sleepy, English town of Edinburgh holds a secret.

Gregory Olsson has the perfect life working as a nurse in the city and partying with his helpful girlfriend, Dolly Wu.

However, when he finds a tiny knife in his cellar, he begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Olsson family.

A holiday leaves Gregory with some startling questions about his past, and he sets off to pretty Edinburgh to find some answers.

At first the people of Edinburgh are clever and funny. He is intrigued by the curiously incredible detective, Matthew Ramsbottom. However, after he introduces him to hard video games, Gregory slowly finds himself drawn into a web of robbery, murder and perhaps, even kidnap.

Can Gregory resist the charms of Matthew Ramsbottom and uncover the secret of the tiny knife before it's too late, or will his demise become yet another Edinburgh legend?

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Two Grateful Uncles Partying to the Beat
A Short Story
by Jane Doe

Chris Parker looked at the tiny map in his hands and felt calm.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his little surroundings. He had always loved big Edinburgh with its wide-eyed, warm waters. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel calm.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alison DeVito. Alison was an adorable bear with slimy ankles and moist fingers.

Chris gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an energetic, greedy, whiskey drinker with sticky ankles and short fingers. His friends saw him as a hushed, horrible hero. Once, he had even saved a broken old man that was stuck in a drain.

But not even an energetic person who had once saved a broken old man that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Alison had in store today.

The rain hammered like eating dogs, making Chris unstable.

As Chris stepped outside and Alison came closer, he could see the greasy glint in her eye.

Alison glared with all the wrath of 6466 creepy stingy sheep. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want equality."

Chris looked back, even more unstable and still fingering the tiny map. "Alison, hands up or I'll shoot," he replied.

They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two kindhearted, knobby koalas walking at a very kind accident, which had piano music playing in the background and two grateful uncles partying to the beat.

Chris regarded Alison's slimy ankles and moist fingers. "I feel the same way!" revealed Chris with a delighted grin.

Alison looked stable, her emotions blushing like a better, bad banana.

Then Alison came inside for a nice glass of whiskey.

THE END

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https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/?i=o6jl3w7

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Happy Edinburgh

A Short Story
by Frankman

Sherlock Holmes looked at the small torch in his hands and felt happy.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his Sad surroundings. He had always loved Happy Edinburgh with its sparkling, striped Streets. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of James Moriarty. James was a stingy coward with ugly hair and pointy nose.

Sherlock gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an evil, smart, wine drinker with ample hair and slimy nose. His friends saw him as a defeated, deadly detective. Once, he had even helped a quirky May Holmes cross the road.

But not even an evil person who had once helped a quirky May Holmes cross the road, was prepared for what James had in store today.

The snow flurried like running rats, making Sherlock sad.

As Sherlock stepped outside and James came closer, he could see the freezing glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want revenge," James bellowed, in a quick tone. He slammed his fist against Sherlock's chest, with the force of 6966 mice. "I frigging hate you, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock looked back, even more sad and still fingering the small torch. "James, I hate you," he replied.

They looked at each other with grumpy feelings, like two straight, stormy squirrels jumping at a very funny Party, which had jazz music playing in the background and two bold uncles gyrating to the beat.

Sherlock regarded James's ugly hair and pointy nose. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered James.

"Please?" begged Sherlock with puppy dog eyes.

James looked angry, his body blushing like a mammoth, moaning magnifying glass.

Then James came inside for a nice glass of wine.THE END

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https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/?i=2rzlmwcq

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https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/?i=18va31pt

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The Mangled Thumb

A Crime Thriller
by rumpe stump

Mangled thumbs have been turning up all over Edinburgh and the inhabitants are scared. Ten murders in ten weeks, all committed with a fork, and still nobody has a clue who the gross killer is.

Edin James Gjoratski is a round and funny accountant with a fondness for cats. He doesn't know it yet but he is the only one who can stop the violent killer.

When his aunt, Frederic Pitt, is kidnapped, Edin Gjoratski finds himself thrown into the centre of the investigation. His only clue is a long vase.

He enlists the help of a smart florist called Flinton Stone.

Can Stone help Gjoratski overcome his heroine addiction and find the answers before the selfish killer and his deadly fork strike again?

"Edin Gjoratski is the best detective ever. A passion for cats and heroine is something we all can relate to."

- The Daily Tale

"About as scary as a minute ant, but The Mangled Thumbdoes deliver an important message about the dangers of a fork."

- Enid Kibbler

"As always, a smart florist makes the best sidekick."

- Hit the Spoof

"I could do better."

- Zob Gloop

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The Sharp Knife
A Mystery
by Writer Unknown
The idyllic, dark town of EDinbrugh holds a secret.

Joshua Donaldson has the perfect life working as a detective in the city and singinh with his courageous girlfriend, Alison Cockle.

However, when he finds a sharp knife in his cellar, he begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Donaldson family.

A Valentine's meal leaves Joshua with some startling questions about his past, and he sets off to rural EDinbrugh to find some answers.

At first the people of EDinbrugh are witty and splendid. He is intrigued by the curiously remarkable actor, Felicity Malkovich. However, after she introduces him to hard alcohol, Joshua slowly finds himself drawn into a web of robbery, fraud and perhaps, even man slaughter.

Can Joshua resist the charms of Felicity Malkovich and uncover the secret of the sharp knife before it's too late, or will his demise become yet another EDinbrugh legend?

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The Tiny Gun

Carla Willis had always hated derelict Philadelphia with its poor, panicky parks. It was a place where she felt stressed.
She was a sinister, vile, wine drinker with beautiful lips and scrawny legs. Her friends saw her as a dangerous, distinct do gooder. Once, she had even helped a vigorous toddler cross the road. That's the sort of woman he was.
Carla walked over to the window and reflected on her grey surroundings. The moon shone like thinking owls.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Catherine Ramsbottom. Catherine was a clever monster with pink lips and skinny legs.
Carla gulped. She was not prepared for Catherine.
As Carla stepped outside and Catherine came closer, she could see the smoggy glint in her eye.
Catherine glared with all the wrath of 5518 sympathetic dry dogs. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want revenge."
Carla looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the tiny gun. "Catherine, I just don't need you in my life any more," she replied.
They looked at each other with surprised feelings, like two wet, weak wolves walking at a very grateful accident, which had piano music playing in the background and two adorable uncles loving to the beat.
Carla studied Catherine's pink lips and skinny legs. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Carla in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't hate you Catherine."
Catherine looked afraid, her emotions raw like a rabblesnatching, racid rock.
Carla could actually hear Catherine's emotions shatter into 3993 pieces. Then the clever monster hurried away into the distance.
Not even a glass of wine would calm Carla's nerves tonight.

THE END

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The Weathered Book

Susan Barlow had always hated cosy West Boggins with its panicky, petite parks. It was a place where she felt anxious.
She was a charming, admirable, wine drinker with long arms and beautiful hands. Her friends saw her as an abundant, annoying angel. Once, she had even helped a regurgitated old man cross the road. That's the sort of woman he was.
Susan walked over to the window and reflected on her beautiful surroundings. The moon shone like thinking cats.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Heather Wishmonger. Heather was a smart monster with skinny arms and pretty hands.
Susan gulped. She was not prepared for Heather.
As Susan stepped outside and Heather came closer, she could see the mute glint in her eye.
Heather glared with all the wrath of 3457 courageous determined dogs. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want revenge."
Susan looked back, even more shocked and still fingering the weathered book. "Heather, get out of my house," she replied.
They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two oily, old-fashioned owls partying at a very incredible accident, which had classical music playing in the background and two optimistic uncles walking to the beat.
Susan studied Heather's skinny arms and pretty hands. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Susan in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't hate you Heather."
Heather looked worried, her emotions raw like a putrid, powerful piano.
Susan could actually hear Heather's emotions shatter into 9615 pieces. Then the smart monster hurried away into the distance.
Not even a glass of wine would calm Susan's nerves tonight.

THE END

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The cloudy day

Helen Barlow looked at the cup in her hand and felt unstable. As an old woman she dreamed of finding peace in her small cottage, but instead she  had to fought herself everyday. Her eyes grew older, anxiously looking around the room as the new wrinkles began to appear.  She wasn't herself since someone tried to break into her house. Now the lake nearby didn't seem as pleasing as before. The dark surface appeared mysterious and threating. The hideaway of her problems have became the problem. Her safety was in danger. The second time the strange man tried to invade her house she was there. She heard weird noises at the backdoor and then minutes later she stood in front of her victim. They stood looking at each other through a kitchen window, no words to be said. It lasted seconds, but for her - it seemed like hours have passed. When he ran away she immediately called the police. Sadly, her hope disappeared with every minute of the small interview they made. No clues, no victim. They couldn't do a thing. All she got was instructions to call them when something similiar happens again. She couldn't risk that much. She found Mr. Hike, a famous detective of Edinburgh, the last hope of her journey. His answer was suprisingly fast. He knocked into her door right away and asked for any needed permission.  He went through every step of the entire house and the field around it. Hummed a bit and, while thinking out loud, said ' I think I can do something about your problem, Ma'am. I just need to bring some of my tools.' and promised to be back tomorrow morning. She finally could breathe a sign of relief. Maybe her insomnia and fear could be cured. She really wished it was the end of her horrible story. With that thought she had lead him to the door, locked it and went for a hot shower to finally release a tension growing inside her the whole time. While she finished putting on her pijama she heard a loud humming and a knock on her back door. She straight away went to open it without a look as she was exceedingly sure that Mr. Hike forgot some of his notes or tools. She opened the door with a small creak and a smile, but no words left her mouth as she recognized the person in front of her. ' It's a cloudy day, huh?' He said. Mr. Hike was too late.

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Revenge in an old St.Gilles Cathedral
Emory Abbot looked at the silver knive in her hands and felt furious.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her monumental surroundings. She had always loved old St. Giles Cathedral with its snotacular, sturdy stained glass window. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel furious.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alastair Hastings. Alastair was an intelligent killer with blue hair and sparkling eyes.

Emory gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was an aggressive, brave, tea drinker with blonde hair and beautiful eyes. Her friends saw her as a dirty, decomposing detective. Once, she had even revived a dying, priest.

But not even an aggressive person who had once revived a dying, priest, was prepared for what Alastair had in store today.

The rain hammered like fighting bats, making Emory sad.

As Emory stepped outside and Alastair came closer, she could see the fast glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want revenge," Alastair bellowed, in a greedy tone. He slammed his fist against Emory's chest, with the force of 9819 rats. "I frigging hate you, Emory Abbot."

Emory looked back, even more sad and still fingering the silver knive. "Alastair, you killed my mother," she replied.

They looked at each other with terrified feelings, like two slow, substantial spider talking at a very cynical sudden meeting, which had classical music playing in the background and two materialistic uncles killing to the beat.

Emory studied Alastair's blue hair and sparkling eyes. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you revenge," she explained, in pitying tones.

Alastair looked disgust, his body raw like a curved, careful candle.

Emory could actually hear Alastair's body shatter into 3260 pieces. Then the intelligent killer hurried away into the distance.

Not even a cup of tea would calm Emory's nerves tonight.

THE END

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The Golden Guillotine

The backward, seaside town of Dallas holds a secret.

Anastasia Dickens has the perfect life working as a lawyer in the city and drinking with her incredible boyfriend, Bruce Wayne.

However, when she finds a golden guillotine in her cellar, she begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Dickens family.

A grandma's funeral leaves Anastasia with some startling questions about her past, and she sets off to grey Dallas to find some answers.

At first the people of Dallas are lovable and admirable. She is intrigued by the curiously kind housekeeper, Missy Humble. However, after she introduces her to hard wine, Anastasia slowly finds herself drawn into a web of gluttony, decadence and perhaps, even mutilation.

Can Anastasia resist the charms of Missy Humble and uncover the secret of the golden guillotine before it's too late, or will her demise become yet another Dallas legend?

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Big Oslo

A Short Story
by Frank H. Emma

James Harpie looked at the small knife in his hands and felt puzzled.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his massive surroundings. He had always loved big Oslo with its curried, curious cars. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel puzzled.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Kimmie Sherman. Kimmie was a stupid coward with fat hair and big nose.

James gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an evil, smart, vodka drinker with ginger hair and blonde nose. His friends saw him as a gleaming, greasy giant. Once, he had even helped a grubby cat cross the road.

But not even an evil person who had once helped a grubby cat cross the road, was prepared for what Kimmie had in store today.

The sun shone like jumping spiders, making James active.

As James stepped outside and Kimmie came closer, he could see the vigorous glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want money," Kimmie bellowed, in a dumb tone. She slammed her fist against James's chest, with the force of 1105 ostrichs. "I frigging hate you, James Harpie."

James looked back, even more active and still fingering the small knife. "Kimmie, your’re adopted," he replied.

They looked at each other with worried feelings, like two burnt, blue-eyed birds pushing at a very adopted wedding, which had jazz music playing in the background and two cool uncles holding to the beat.

James regarded Kimmie's fat hair and big nose. He held out his hand. "Let's not fight," he whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered Kimmie.

"Please?" begged James with puppy dog eyes.

Kimmie looked irritable, her body blushing like a grisly, grim gun.

Then Kimmie came inside for a nice shot of vodka.THE END

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Lots of mangled hearts have been turning up all over Edinburgh and the inhabitants are scared. Ten murders in ten weeks, all committed with a knife, and still nobody has a clue who the greedy killer is.
Lady Harriett Harmon is a thin and joyful independent woman. She doesn't know it yet but she is the only one who can stop the killer.
When her ex husband, James Jones, is kidnapped, Lady Harmon finds herself thrown into the centre of the investigation. His only clue is a missing bracelet that she gave to her ex husband the year they met.
She enlists the help of her daughter, Evelyn Harmon, who is a professional ballerina that lives and works in Paris.
When her daughter found out about her dad being kidnapped, she travelled to Edinburgh to save her mother from her Alcohol addiction and to find her dad.

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Mangled Hands have been turning up all over Canada and the inhabitants are scared. Ten murders in ten weeks, all committed with a blade, and still nobody has a clue who the Angry killer is.

Harry Graham Nolan is a tall and Friendly Doctor with a fondness for life. He doesn't know it yet but he is the only one who can stop the malicious killer.

When his Brother, Paul , is kidnapped, Harry Nolan finds himself thrown into the centre of the investigation. His only clue is a nice map.

He enlists the help of a considerate shopkeeper called Elizabeth Platt.

Can Platt help Nolan overcome his chocolate addiction and find the answers before the snooty killer and his deadly blade strike again?

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The underdeveloped and creepy city of Amsterdam has a secret.
Doctor Finegan has a perfect life working as a doctor in town and dancing with his nice girlfriend, Miss Finegan.
However, when he finds a particular ring in his basement, he begins to realize that things are not exactly what they seem in the Finegan family.
An anniversary party leaves the doctor with some surprising questions about his past and he heads to lonely Amsterdam to find answers.
In the beginning, the people of Amsterdam are kind and generous. He is intrigued by the curiously selfless lawyer, Mr. Pafell. However, after he introduces him to wine, the doctor slowly finds himself drawn into a web of robberies, suicides and possibly even homicides.
Will the doctor be able to resist Mr. Pafell's cunning and uncover the secret of that particular ring before it's too late, or will his disappearance become another Amsterdam legend?

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The crowded, English town of Glasgow holds a secret.

Kimberly Walker has the perfect life working as a painter in the city and dancing with her funny boyfriend, Brad Sparrow.

However, when she finds a magic book in her cellar, she begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Walker family.

A funeral leaves Kimberly with some startling questions about her past, and she sets off to urban Glasgow to find some answers.

At first the people of Glasgow are generous and understanding. She is intrigued by the curiously daring author, Polly Johnson. However, after she introduces her to hard lip balm, Kimberly slowly finds herself drawn into a web of adultery, robbery and perhaps, even assassination.

Can Kimberly resist the charms of Polly Johnson and uncover the secret of the magic book before it's too late, or will her demise become yet another Glasgow legend?

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The Sharp Knife

-A Mystery
by Sophie-

The big, scared town of Las Vegas holds a secret.

Nicholas Pulcins has the perfect life working as a gardener in the city and to marry with his kind girlfriend, Camille Gors.

However, when he finds a sharp knife in his cellar, he begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Pulcins family.

A Nicholas Pulcins marry Olivia Ringos and Camille Gors go to prison for stalking and persecution leaves Nicholas with some startling questions about his past, and he sets off to crowded Las Vegas to find some answers.

At first the people of Las Vegas are generous and polite. He is intrigued by the curiously nice shop assistant, Olivia Ringos. However, after she introduces him to hard friends, Nicholas slowly finds himself drawn into a web of robbery, gluttony and perhaps, even murder.

Can Nicholas resist the charms of Olivia Ringos and uncover the secret of the sharp knife before it's too late, or will his demise become yet another Las Vegas legend?

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Galactic Beautiful Gun Wars

A Science Fiction Plot
by BEN

A long, long time ago in a beautiful, beautiful galaxy...

After leaving the derelict planet Earth, a group of witches fly toward a distant speck. The speck gradually resolves into a solid, space mill.

Civil war strikes the galaxy, which is ruled by Dolly Barker, a scheming ghost capable of fraud and even assassination.

Terrified, a grand fairy known as Graham Donaldson flees the Empire, with his protector, Tom Thornhill.

They head for Athens on the planet Ocampa. When they finally arrive, a fight breaks out. Thornhill uses his beautiful gun to defend Graham.

Thornhill and Fairy Graham decide it's time to leave Ocampa and steal a scooter to shoot their way out.

They encounter a tribe of witches. Thornhill is attacked and the fairy is captured by the witches and taken back to Athens.

Thornhill must fight to save Fairy Graham but when he accidentally unearths a curvaceous hawk, the entire future of the beautiful, derelict galaxy is at stake.

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https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/ofdyif2/mangled-long-hair.html

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ITALY

JORDAN CACCAVALE
Josh Blunder had always loved cosy Cardiff with its dripping, dry ditches. It was a place where he felt jumpy.

He was a clumsy, deranged, beer drinker with ugly lips and skinny warts. His friends saw him as a quickest, quirky queen. Once, he had even brought a determined owl back from the brink of death. That's the sort of man he was.

Josh walked over to the window and reflected on his damp surroundings. The sun shone like sleeping aardvarks.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Georgina Vader. Georgina was a smelly animal with vast lips and scrawny warts.

Josh gulped. He was not prepared for Georgina.

As Josh stepped outside and Georgina came closer, he could see the sturdy glint in her eye.

Georgina gazed with the affection of 9168 generous knowledgeable kittens. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a wifi code."

Josh looked back, even more healthy and still fingering the cursed kettle. "Georgina, yabba Dabba Doo," he replied.

They looked at each other with calm feelings, like two friendly, fast flamingos singing at a very brave dinner party, which had reggae music playing in the background and two wild uncles thinking to the beat.

Josh regarded Georgina's vast lips and scrawny warts. "I feel the same way!" revealed Josh with a delighted grin.

Georgina looked healthy, her emotions blushing like a handsome, heavy hawk.

Then Georgina came inside for a nice drink of beer.

THE END

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The Curse of the Good A Sausages

A Horror Story
by Arca Goffredi

Whilst investigating the death of a local , a grateful Ciccio is a detective called Maggie James uncovers a legend about a supernaturally-cursed, good A sausages circulating throughout San Francisco. As soon as anyone uses the A sausages, he or she has exactly 21 days left to live.

The doomed few appear to be ordinary people during day to day life, but when photographed, they look two black eyes. A marked person feels like a squidgy Opossum to touch.

Maggie gets hold of the A sausages, refusing to believe the superstition. A collage of images flash into his mind: a freezing A giraffe balancing on a chilly , an old newspaper headline about a flying accident, a hooded frog ranting about arms and a drinking well located in a Scary place.

When Maggie notices his feet have Opossum-like properties, he realises that the curse of the good A sausages is true and calls in his lover, a Maggie is a psichiatric called Detective Ciccio, to help.

Detective examines the A sausages and willingly submits himself to the curse. He finds that the same visions flash before his eyes. He finds the freezing A giraffe balancing on a chilly particularly chilling. He joins the queue for a supernatural death.

Maggie and Detective pursue a quest to uncover the meaning of the visions, starting with a search for the hooded frog. Will they be able to stop the curse before their time is up?

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The Dangerous Pistol

A Mystery
by G.A Pointy-Knife

The gloomy, with a big forest town of Beacon Hills holds a secret.

Allison Argent has the perfect life working as a detective in the city and go to disco art night with her cold boyfriend, Scott McColl.

However, when she finds a dangerous pistol in her cellar, she begins to realise that things are not quite as they seem in the Argent family.

A girl find a dead man leaves Allison with some startling questions about her past, and she sets off to mysterious Beacon Hills to find some answers.

At first the people of Beacon Hills are intelligent and intuitive. She is intrigued by the curiously available psichologist, Stiles Stilinski. However, after he introduces her to hard money, Allison slowly finds herself drawn into a web of murder, shooting and perhaps, even Robbery.

Can Allison resist the charms of Stiles Stilinski and uncover the secret of the dangerous pistol before it's too late, or will her demise become yet another Beacon Hills legend?

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The Mangled Eyelashes
A Crime Thriller by Lucrezia
Mangled eyelashes have been turning up all over London and the inhabitants are scared. Ten murders in ten weeks, all committed with a knives, and still nobody has a clue who the rude killer is.
Mrs. Alicia Poirot is a thin and polite Babysitter with a fondness for books. She doesn't know it yet but she is the only one who can stop the bad killer.
When her lover, Warwick Godfrey, is kidnapped, Mrs. Poirot finds herself thrown into the centre of the investigation. His only clue is a red handkerchief.
She enlists the help of an intelligent accountant called Molly Barlow.
Can Barlow help Poirot overcome her pain addiction and find the answers before the malignant killer and his deadly knives strike again?

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"Mrs. Poirot is the best detective ever. A passion for books and pain is something we all can relate to."
- The Daily Tale
"About as scary as a minute ant, but The Mangled Eyelashes does deliver an important message about the dangers of a knives."
- Enid Kibbler
"As always, an intelligent accountant makes the best sidekick."
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"I could do better."
- Zob Gloop

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The Mangled Rpg
A Crime Thriller by AleLaSperanza

Mangled rpg have been turning up all over football and the inhabitants are scared. In the Canarie Island, ten murders in ten weeks, all committed with a chair, and still nobody has a clue who the bad killer is. Mr Oliver Rays is a friendly and astute policeman with a fondness for arms. He doesn't know it yet but he is the only one who can stop the unpleasant killer.
When his muscled, Good Scary, is kidnapped, Mr Rays finds himself thrown into the centre of the investigation. His only clue is an Australia dog. He enlists the help of an overbearing thief called Jason Pretty. Can Pretty help Rays overcome his detective addiction and find the answersbefore the magic killer and his deadly chair strike again?
Yes, he eventually found the criminal with his chair and took them to jail! Good job detective!!

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Roksana, Poland

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Echo had always loved creepy Berlin with its unusual, upset umbrellas. It was a place where she felt angry.

She was a caring, mean, whiskey drinker with curvy toes and beautiful legs. Her friends saw her as a blue, bitter brute. Once, she had even helped a spotty kitten cross the road. That's the sort of woman he was.

Echo walked over to the window and reflected on her magical surroundings. The moon shone like partying elephants.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather some one. It was the figure of Raven . Raven was a patient friend with brown toes and short legs.

Echo gulped. She was not prepared for Raven.

As Echo stepped outside and Raven came closer, she could see the spewmungous smile on her face.

"I am here because I want love," Raven bellowed, in a rude tone. She slammed her fist against Echo's chest, with the force of 9107 hamsters. "I frigging hate you, Echo ."

Echo looked back, even more active and still fingering the cursed knife. "Raven, you must think I was born yesterday," she replied.

They looked at each other with unstable feelings, like two horrible, hollow horses chatting at a very brave engagement party, which had drum and bass music playing in the background and two forgetful uncles sleeping to the beat.

Echo studied Raven's brown toes and short legs. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you love," she explained, in pitying tones.

Raven looked concerned, her body raw like a magnificent, modern map.

Echo could actually hear Raven's body shatter into 2950 pieces. Then the patient friend hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of whiskey would calm Echo's nerves tonight.

THE END

Created on 14th December 2020.

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The Cursed Knife | Short Story Generator

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Echo had always loved creepy Berlin with its unusual, upset umbrellas. It was a place where she felt angry. She was a caring, mean, whiskey drinker with curvy toes and beautiful legs. Her friends saw her as a blue, bitter brute. Once, she had even helped a spotty kitten cross the road.