Last week, I held a silly contest wherein you were to fill out a form with some words that I would then plug into a narrative, Mad Lib style.

The original text is from a sad piece of fiction I wrote about a car accident cutting short the career of a promising young basketball player… or something. The original sad text:

Tom ran inside the hospital, pushing an orderly out of the way, as if he knew where he was going. He didn’t. He stopped at an occupied desk and asked. The girl behind the desk pointed up at the fifth floor. Tom started running up the stairs because it seemed faster. It wasn’t.

He reached the fifth floor and looked down the hallway. He spied his mother and ran. When he stood in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Tom sat beside his mother and bundled her into his long arms. She accepted them gratefully, but no tears came. Her eyes were puffy, red and stinging.

Sad, right? Well, maybe we didn’t get to the sad part yet. Anyway, I took a sad piece of fiction and replaced parts of it with your gibberish.

The words you provided are in blue. I updated the definite and indefinite articles (“an” to “a”) as needed. I should have asked for a male name, but since I didn’t, I took the liberty of updating pronouns (“he” to “she”) where appropriate. There were a couple entries that weren’t gender specific so I erred on the side of male.

We had 25 participants this year! That means this post is really long though. I know it will be hard on your short attention span, but please try to read all of them before you decide. You’re not even reading this, are you?

Without further ado, here are the results in the order in which they were received along with my snarky comments in brackets.

Let the smack talk begin… er.. continue!

Arden from Writing While Wineing

Bon Qui Qui ran inside the ninja, pushing a rainbow out of the gnome, as if he knew where he was pontificating. He didn’t. He grunted at a lazy toilet and created. The unicorn behind the lazy toilet pointed up at the rancid potato. Bon Qui Qui started running up the exorcism because it seemed smellier. It wasn’t.

He scooted the rancid potato and drank down the hallway. He kicked his mother and ran. When he flew in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Bon Qui Qui snarled beside his mother and bundled her into his fabulous pancakes. She accepted them nervously, but no dragons came. Her cookies were mysterious, puny and sizzling.

I really don’t want to know what he created at the lazy toilet, but those pancakes are FABULOUS!

Christopher from Inkling of Asylum

Roderick ran inside the lava lamp, pushing an electric blanket out of the plunger, as if he knew where he was canning. He didn’t. He rode at a fluffy toothbrush and cleaned. The towel behind the fluffy toothbrush pointed up at the spicy donut. Roderick started vacuuming up the ottoman because it seemed quieter. It wasn’t.

He kicked the spicy donut and sang down the hallway. He soaked his mother and ran. When he slept in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Roderick cuddled beside his mother and bundled her into his hot pretzels. She accepted them quietly, but no bows came. Her forks were clean, orange and tidy.

What did the spicy donut ever do to you, Roderick?

Alicia Benton from Imperfectly Perfect

Peter ran inside the watermelon, pushing a unicorn out of the gorilla, as if he knew where he was shuffling. He didn’t. He manipulated at a snarky umbrella and twirled. The astronaut behind the snarky umbrella pointed up at the breezy moped. Peter started snorting up the beer because it seemed jazzier. It wasn’t.

He critiqued the breezy moped and illuminated down the hallway. He probed his mother and ran. When he fought in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Peter coached beside his mother and bundled her into his long mittens. She accepted them gratefully, but no cucumbers came. Her baseballs were lackadaisical, sassy and wretched.

Pushing a unicorn out of a gorilla sounds painful. So does snorting beer.

Sofia Leo from I Won’t Take It

Patty ran inside New York, pushing a dog out of the tree, as if he knew where he was farting. He didn’t. He played at a quiet table and ate. The car behind the quiet table pointed up at the slimy bar. Patty started sleeping up the coffee cup because it seemed slimier. It wasn’t.

He wept the slimy bar and raged down the hallway. He ran his mother and ran. When he skipped in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Patty poured beside his mother and bundled her into his quick buses. She accepted them gracefully, but no shoes came. Her purses were gross, big and ginormous.

Pushing a dog out of the tree wasn’t nice, Patty.

Cynkingfeeling from That Cynking Feeling

Fernando ran inside the scythe, pushing a banjo out of the mimeograph, as if he knew where he was flitting. He didn’t. He chugged at an ample balloon and tripped. The thermometer behind the ample balloon pointed up at the huge folder. Fernando started redecorating up the nest because it seemed brighter. It wasn’t.

He catapulted the huge folder and sneezed down the hallway. He branded his mother and ran. When he floated in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Fernando rocked beside his mother and bundled her into his fishy cylinders. She accepted them enthusiastically, but no dimes came. Her harpoons were infinite, perpendicular and thoughtful.

I like to think Fernando rocked out with some air guitar, not rocked like to and fro.

Twindaddy from Stuph Blog

Willie Fisterbottom ran inside the jock strap, pushing a butt crack out of the moron, as if he knew where he was dirty dancing. He didn’t. He upchucked at an orgasmic used condom and farted. The buttplug behind the orgasmic used condom pointed up at the foul-smelling nipple. Willie Fisterbottom started licking up the orifice because it seemed dirtier. It wasn’t.

He emasculated the foul-smelling nipple and swallowed down the hallway. He confused his mother and ran. When he bitched in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Willie Fisterbottom mocked beside his mother and bundled her into his dense gonads. She accepted them incoherently, but no sea men came. Her pubes were delirious, neverending and befuddled.

Incoherently is the only way to accept dense gonads.

Matticus from The Matticus Kingdom

Gertrude ran inside the crown, pushing a sceptre out of the court, as if she knew where she was tumbling. She didn’t. She juggled at a delightful throne and entertained. The cloak behind the delightful throne pointed up at the silly ring. Gertrude started jestering up the crest because it seemed prettier. It wasn’t.

She teased the silly ring and joked down the hallway. She ducked her mother and ran. When she ran in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Gertrude slipped beside her mother and bundled her into her exquisite knives. She accepted them brilliantly, but no riddles came. Her antics were awesome, shameful and awful.

Awesome, shameful and awful antics are awesome, shameful and awful.

Kate from Sincerely Kate

Thomas Jefferson ran inside the peanut butter, pushing a picture frame out of the camera, as if he knew where he was laughing. He didn’t. He smoked at a yellow bikini and blogged. The penguin behind the yellow bikini pointed up at the tiny baseball. Thomas Jefferson started pringle popping up the baseball bat because it seemed tougher. It wasn’t.

He hopped the tiny baseball and skipped down the hallway. He danced his mother and ran. When he teeter-tottered in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Thomas Jefferson stripped beside his mother and bundled her into his massive melons. She accepted them hopefully, but no beverages came. Her donuts were blue, little and adorable.

Who knew that Thomas Jefferson had massive melons?

Jackie P from To Breathe is to Write

Myrtle ran inside the opera singer, pushing a cat out of the crow, as if she knew where she was laughing. She didn’t. She described at a brave cemetery and tiptoed. The feather behind the brave cemetery pointed up at the dusty marble. Myrtle started moaning up the ball because it seemed stiffer. It wasn’t.

She shorted the dusty marble and sang down the hallway. She hated her mother and ran. When she returned in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Myrtle sported beside her mother and bundled her into her hissing buns. She accepted them loudly, but no alarms came. Her pictures were thundering, greasy and flaky.

I would be loud if you tried to bundle me into your hissing buns, too.

Zoe from Behind The Mask of Abuse

Wilburt ran inside the booger, pushing a hippopotamus out of the hooters, as if he knew where he was clapperclawing. He didn’t. He sunk at a cooing toilet and drank. The butt hole behind the cooing toilet pointed up at the debonair rattle. Wilburt started anagrammatizing up Dr. Jekyll because it seemed bloodiest. It wasn’t.

He threw the debonair rattle and struck down the hallway. He hacked his mother and ran. When he hurled in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Wilburt stole beside his mother and bundled her into his colossal balls. She accepted them distastefully, but no wigwams came. Her pompoms were pompous, prickly and rotten.

I’d get rid of those pompoms if I were you, Wilburt’s mom.

Caron Eastgate Dann from The Crayon Files

Caron ran inside the cat, pushing a dog out of the postman, as if she knew where she was barking. She didn’t. She skipped at a pretty pony and jived. The moon behind the pretty pony pointed up at the merry mountain. Caron started purring up the mermaid because it seemed prettier. It wasn’t.

She hounded the merry mountain and cried down the hallway. She laughed her mother and ran. When she skited in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Caron tripped beside her mother and bundled her into her delightful viewers. She accepted them nastily, but no hyenas came. Her fruit bats were melancholy, dim-witted and corrupt.

Sad, dim-witted and corrupt is no way to go through life, fruit bats.

Jen Van Allen (no email or blog was given for this entry.)

Taylor Swift ran inside the boyfriend, pushing a guitar out of the tattoo, as if she knew where she was vacationing. She didn’t. She gargled at a cubic money and performed. The stage behind the cubic money pointed up at the furry wookie. Taylor Swift started crying up the starry craft because it seemed richer. It wasn’t.

She galloped the furry wookie and battled down the hallway. She operated her mother and ran. When she created in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Taylor Swift searched beside her mother and bundled her into her bloody light bulbs. She accepted them mistifully, but no surgeons came. Her giraffes were large, extraordinary and leisurely.

I hate when Taylor Swift gargles at me and performs.

Anna from Muddy River Muse

Edwin ran inside the sausage, pushing a turtle out of the confetti, as if he knew where he was illuminating. He didn’t. He splatted at a spiffy wombat and snorted. The cheesecake behind the spiffy wombat pointed up at the ebullient antler. Edwin started singing up the wallet because it seemed darker. It wasn’t.

He cried the ebullient antler and swam down the hallway. He shaved his mother and ran. When he agonized in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Edwin drove beside his mother and bundled her into his purple Twinkies. She accepted them dramatically, but no toes came. Her rockets were lumbering, cognitive and wilting.

That is one spiffy wombat, Edwin.

Doobster from Mindful Digressions

Wilhelmena ran inside the keyboard, pushing a recliner out of the porch, as if she knew where she was tracking. She didn’t. She looked at a sturdy saucepan and shaved. The window behind the sturdy saucepan pointed up at the rectangular bed. Wilhelmena started stroking up the car because it seemed wittier. It wasn’t.

She jumped the rectangular bed and wrote down the hallway. She recited her mother and ran. When she drove in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Wilhelmena kicked beside her mother and bundled her into her large stadiums. She accepted them lovingly, but no airplanes came. Her mermaids were colorful, drab and starry.

Looking at a sturdy saucepan always makes me want to shave.

Sharon from Gentle Stitches

Sharon ran inside the poodle, pushing a piano out of the apple, as if she knew where she was singing. She didn’t. She read at a spirited closet and healed. The wardrobe behind the spirited closet pointed up at the wild terrier. Sharon started walking up the scone because it seemed swifter. It wasn’t.

She relaxed the wild terrier and charged down the hallway. She presented her mother and ran. When she drank in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Sharon kissed beside her mother and bundled her into her fleeing waltzes. She accepted them peacefully, but no leaves came. Her hooves were skillful, precious and cheerful.

Walking up the scone because it seems swifter is entirely reasonable.

Merbear from Knocked Over By A Feather

Punky Brewster ran inside the frogs, pushing a wig out of the guitar, as if she knew where she was banging. She didn’t. She blew at a gnarly plum and forgot. The eyes behind the gnarly plum pointed up at the blistered scarf. Punky Brewster started arousing up the flute because it seemed easier. It wasn’t.

She dragged the blistered scarf and screamed down the hallway. She rolled her mother and ran. When she rang in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Punky Brewster knelt beside her mother and bundled her into her poor butterflies. She accepted them stoically, but no boys came. Her ponies were plump, vile and tiny.

I want a tiny plump pony!

Grandmalin from Breathing Space

Buzz Lightyear ran inside the aspirin, pushing an antique out of the cabbage, as if he knew where he was tapping. He didn’t. He walked at a filthy hosepipe and poked. The butter behind the filthy hosepipe pointed up at the incredible violin. Buzz Lightyear started flying up the skyscraper because it seemed heavier. It wasn’t.

He insulted the incredible violin and crashed down the hallway. He screamed his mother and ran. When he failed in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Buzz Lightyear barfed beside his mother and bundled her into his excellent raincoats. She accepted them unabashedly, but no parrots came. Her horseshoes were brilliant, tiny and legendary.

Poor Buzz, failing and barfing in front of his mother and she didn’t even look up.

Mental Mama from Mental In The Midwest

Benedict Cumberbatch ran inside the litterbox, pushing a tube out of the cat, as if he knew where he was banging. He didn’t. He smoked at a furry couch and slunk. The cabbage behind the furry couch pointed up at the squishy bowl. Benedict Cumberbatch started jerking up the cat o nine tails because it seemed smellier. It wasn’t.

He washed the squishy bowl and farted down the hallway. He fucked his mother and ran. When he flew in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Benedict Cumberbatch fainted beside his mother and bundled her into his bubbly squirrels. She accepted them forcefully, but no combat boots came. Her tattoos were creative, hilarious and free-wheeling.

Benedict Cumberbatch is totally going to sue me for defamation and win.

Lori from Repressed Expressions

Gunther ran inside the cemetery, pushing a heaven out of the heart, as if he knew where he was flailing. He didn’t. He grabbed at a sexy fairy and flew. The dragon behind the sexy fairy pointed up at the sweet unicorn. Gunther started fracking up the tree because it seemed longer. It wasn’t.

He farted the sweet unicorn and slid down the hallway. He loved his mother and ran. When he dashed in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Gunther flocked beside his mother and bundled her into his stressful caves. She accepted them mournfully, but no elves came. Her dwarves were fugly, freakin’ and beautiful.

I never know where I’m flailing either, Gunther.

Revis from 33 Grams Of Blog

Macon Yucum ran inside the dingleberry, pushing a pubic hair out of the assless chaps, as if he knew where he was humping. He didn’t. He ejaculated at a horny condom and licked. The anus behind the horny condom pointed up at the fugly edible panties. Macon Yucum started spanking up the whipped cream bikini because it seemed sluttier. It wasn’t.

He stroked the fugly edible panties and sucked down the hallway. He urinated his mother and ran. When he farted in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Macon Yucum wiped beside his mother and bundled her into his gassy balls. She accepted them lewdly, but no scrotums came. Her butt cheeks were lubricated, diseased and erotic.

Remind me to run the other way if I ever meet Macon Yucum.

Evil Squirrel from Evil Squirrel’s Nest

Forrest Gump ran inside the T-shirt, pushing a pancreas out of the bowtie, as if he knew where he was holding. He didn’t. He struck at a ginormous bathtub and coughed. The squirrel behind the ginormous bathtub pointed up at the heavy floor. Forrest Gump started pulling up the hamburger because it seemed fuzzier. It wasn’t.

He pooped the heavy floor and sneezed down the hallway. He threw his mother and ran. When he cried in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Forrest Gump squeezed beside his mother and bundled her into his lousy possums. She accepted them overly, but no raindrops came. Her ashtrays were puny, messy and bland.

Lousy possums indeed.

Alice from Alice At Wonderland

Donald Trump ran inside the toilet, pushing a weasel out of the poodle, as if he knew where he was jumping. He didn’t. He ate at a dorky stapler and swallowed. The cat behind the dorky stapler pointed up at the idiotic butt. Donald Trump started smacking up the politician because it seemed greater. It wasn’t.

He pooped the idiotic butt and puked down the hallway. He exploded his mother and ran. When he spat in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Donald Trump choked beside his mother and bundled her into his awesome police officers. She accepted them horribly, but no Republicans came. Her jerks were stupid, creepy and freaky.

Smacking up the politician may be the greatest thing Donald Trump has ever done.

Grumpy Ramone (NotAPunkRocker’s Kid) from Not A Punk Rocker

Jim ran inside the taco, pushing a car out of the cocaine, as if he knew where he was growling. He didn’t. He yelled at a fuzzy plate and scratched. The box behind the fuzzy plate pointed up at the twisted glass. Jim started muttering up the rock because it seemed sleeker. It wasn’t.

He killed the twisted glass and showered down the hallway. He nipped his mother and ran. When he propelled in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Jim stretched beside his mother and bundled her into his smooth gasses. She accepted them slowly, but no rabbits came. Her platypi were wrinkled, dusty and rugged.

I wish my gasses were smooth.

Kolytyi from Trifles

Claudio ran inside the dentist, pushing a watch out of the fish, as if he knew where he was riding. He didn’t. He found a golden pool and went. The paper behind the golden pool pointed up at the ugly cook. Claudio started reading up the dinner because it seemed easier. It wasn’t.

He loved the ugly cook and liked down the hallway. He ate his mother and ran. When he ran in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Claudio kept beside his mother and bundled her into his cold cats. She accepted them rapidly, but no notes came. Her boots were nice, calm and dumb.

I love the ugly cook, too.

Don from Don Of All Trades

Seamus McDonkeypuncher ran inside the apple, pushing a wax enthusiast out of the pizza, as if he knew where he was gestating. He didn’t. He jerked a fancy anus and totaled. The pickle behind the fancy anus pointed up at the pink snout. Seamus McDonkeypuncher started whacking up the beer mug because it seemed harder. It wasn’t.

He humped the pink snout and giggled down the hallway. He douched his mother and ran. When he vomited in front of her, she didn’t even look up. Seamus McDonkeypuncher called beside his mother and bundled her into his hairy balls. She accepted them agressively, but no teats came. Her electric cars were blue, stinky and striped.

I’d giggle if I humped the pink snout, too.

Vote!

I’m so glad I left the burden of deciding the winner to y’all because I’d be hard pressed to choose a favorite. Good luck participants and thanks for playing along! The winner will be announced on Monday.