Wham Lines Game
This was fun on TVT so i figured we might try it here. Might also be a fun way to generate writing prompts.
You take the phrase at the end of the post above you, and supply a context in which it becomes a Wham Line - that is, a line with game-changing significance, the uttering of which is a pivotal moment in the story.
So if the phrase was 'We're out of power,' the context might be that a character is being kept alive on a life-support that needs power to run, and now they are at risk of death.
When you're done, post a phrase for the next person to supply context for, in bold so we know it's the phrase.
Phrases can be as boring or as weird as you like, that's part of the fun.
i'll start:
There's no time.
You take the phrase at the end of the post above you, and supply a context in which it becomes a Wham Line - that is, a line with game-changing significance, the uttering of which is a pivotal moment in the story.
So if the phrase was 'We're out of power,' the context might be that a character is being kept alive on a life-support that needs power to run, and now they are at risk of death.
When you're done, post a phrase for the next person to supply context for, in bold so we know it's the phrase.
Phrases can be as boring or as weird as you like, that's part of the fun.
i'll start:
There's no time.
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Comments
He lied. I am your sister.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
That's the biggest one I've ever seen!
Did you hear that?
Sh-shut up! It's not like i like you or anything!
To give in to self-pity, such a destructive, seductive emotion, is to give the fury power and acceptance. Once you decide that you deserve to suffer, that you like the fury and hate yourself; you are lost.
Line is from person losing the struggle with his fury.
Have a muffin.
The hero has spent the entire story searching for the Muffin Man who killed his parents with poisoned baked goods. His car has broken down in the rain and he's been taken in by a good Samaritan... whose house is o the corner of 10th Street and Drury Lane.
No, fools! I am Napoleon!
So, how about it, Godslayer?
A TV Licence costs £145.50.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Chick was a dime.
The laser cannon is primed, sir.
But the laser cannon he sees on the viewscreen is facing the wrong way, facing towards the section of the ship he is in, and has been repaired.
"The laser cannon is primed, sir" says a once-trusted engineer to the ringleader of the mutiny. The cannon fires, and most of the cargo ship is destroyed. The commander's last thought is of the precious cargo and how he was going to cure his wife with it...
It's a cucumber, don't you know.
It was a vagina.
Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.
[b]Too chilly for me.[/b]
I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Duck, Duck, Goose!
What do you know? You never even met her!
☭
B̤̺͍̰͕̺̠̕u҉̖͙̝̮͕̲ͅm̟̼̦̠̹̙p͡s̹͖ ̻T́h̗̫͈̙̩r̮e̴̩̺̖̠̭̜ͅa̛̪̟͍̣͎͖̺d͉̦͠s͕̞͚̲͍ ̲̬̹̤Y̻̤̱o̭͠u̥͉̥̜͡ ̴̥̪D̳̲̳̤o̴͙̘͓̤̟̗͇n̰̗̞̼̳͙͖͢'҉͖t̳͓̣͍̗̰ ͉W̝̳͓̼͜a̗͉̳͖̘̮n͕ͅt͚̟͚ ̸̺T̜̖̖̺͎̱ͅo̭̪̰̼̥̜ ̼͍̟̝R̝̹̮̭ͅͅe̡̗͇a͍̘̤͉͘d̼̜ 
⚢
heheh. I will never be hungry again.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
☭
B̤̺͍̰͕̺̠̕u҉̖͙̝̮͕̲ͅm̟̼̦̠̹̙p͡s̹͖ ̻T́h̗̫͈̙̩r̮e̴̩̺̖̠̭̜ͅa̛̪̟͍̣͎͖̺d͉̦͠s͕̞͚̲͍ ̲̬̹̤Y̻̤̱o̭͠u̥͉̥̜͡ ̴̥̪D̳̲̳̤o̴͙̘͓̤̟̗͇n̰̗̞̼̳͙͖͢'҉͖t̳͓̣͍̗̰ ͉W̝̳͓̼͜a̗͉̳͖̘̮n͕ͅt͚̟͚ ̸̺T̜̖̖̺͎̱ͅo̭̪̰̼̥̜ ̼͍̟̝R̝̹̮̭ͅͅe̡̗͇a͍̘̤͉͘d̼̜ 
⚢
You are so, screwed.