If this were a movie, I'm pretty sure the trailer would have "Mad World" by Gary Jules playing softly in the background. It would also be the song for the credits.

 

LOL i already had that in my head when i was reading the first part and looking at that pic, srs GSTK is a god.

 

that song would add to the suspense and scare factor. right now im wondering if this story will ever end haha. lets hope not. keep up the good work guys. im an avid reader of your story. whats the title?

 

We'll see where it goes.

I'm leaving until Sunday though.
So, Vagrant can post a couple from Sherriff's point of view, then I'll be Thegreatsoutherenwomankiller again on Sunday.

 

i call the steryotypical tocken black guy
for comic relif


in this thread i go by tyshaundi luther king

 

realy


mayb i be typing in my regional dialect
to add a sense of realsam yo



mayb my poor typing skilllz reflect my tuff inner city upbring
thus explaininin my distain for ''whitey''

 

Maybe you wouldn't make it two posts without getting strung up the nearest tree by a mob of bloodthirsty racsist townspeople who automatically blame the only black guy in 100 square miles for the recent murders...

 

im likin where this is goin...

 

ghetto war diarys volume 1


dat cracker cheif oF the PO-LEECE is also be frontin as a clan member


and aint talking wutang baby

 

The rain drops were gently falling on your cruisers windsheild.
You sat on highway 160 behind a billboard for The Lions Den Adult Superstore. It was spring and the rainy season had begun. The dim dome light was on, illuminating he glossy pages of the newest issuse of Guns & Ammo Magazine. The light glinted off the gun metals matte blue finish of a Smith $ Wesson Model 58 .41 Magnum Service Revolver. You were reading the article intently when your radio crackled and broke the pattering rhythmic sound of the gently falling raindrops.

You were being called to the scene of an automobile accident. However, not because you were the newly promoted county sheriff. You were being called because the vehicle your blushing bride was riding in drove into a ditch and flipped, ejecting her body and throwing it 50 feet into a rocky field of shortgrass. The world went seemed to go silent, but soon the falling rain crept back into your mind.

"Missy..."

There was nobody on the road at this time of night, but you ran your lights and siren. Safety first, when hurtling down dirt and gravel roads at 120 mph. Your face was serious and stern. You were always a strong individual, thanks to your father, who taught you how to be strong with frequent belt whippings at an early age. So you were calm when you arrived at the scene, a group of squad cars parked off the the side of the highway, spot lights pointing to a hunk of metal in the ditch. You got out and walked up to the officer in command. You glanced through the windows of the cars into the back seats until you found one occupied by a gentleman, head bowed. Rage flashed across your eyes, but you kept walking. They led you to the wreck, then past it into the field. You glanced back to the road, but didn't see a paramedic.

A reflection off an oncoming car jolted you. Old Mill Road, shit, it's right there. You quick veer around the turn just in time. Last week the Barkly Boys were three sheets to the wind and joyriding in their fathers pick up truck when decided to take it through the old creek covered bridge. Their vehicle operating skills were severely handicapped, though, and they crashed into the side of the bridge, causing the roof to fall and the supports under the road to crack. The bridge was in no condition to support weight and the road had to be closed. This ment the drive to Edgar's Farm was going to take 15 minutes longer.

 

Seriously wow
You could actually write a suspense novel

 

jesus man, yall spend way to much fucking time online.

 

Not really. Not yesterday at least.
I was out and about doin' stuff and smokin' stuff all day.
One of my roommates birthday was yesterday so we went to the bar and shit.
Chilled with the other crusties and drank it up.

 

I'm gonna wait like a fuckin' month,
and then just print all this shit out.
Great fappin mat.... bathroom reads.

 

lol
its so pointless and silly though
just coming up with the plot on the spot

 

actually, im pretty sure the theme song would be "build me up buttercup" by the foundations.

and ill stop interferring with the plot now.

 

this shit could win awards

 

wheres the rest of the story??

 

It hasn't been written yet, duh.
Backalley should be getting back soon so he'll be posting again. I guess I'm kinda waiting on him