Pretzel
16-12-04, 05:05 PM
Ahhh, after my first endeavor, I got stuck. It was my first story, and now I believe I can write a complete story. So, here goes. Please give me any insight.
Part One
Chapter One: The Idea
Senator Bill Carlson sat in a blue reclining chair, with a beer resting on his stomach while he hummed the theme to “The Smurfs”, and thought about all he had accomplished in the past year. It was not much, but he considered finally figuring out how to work the cable on his 40-inch television quite a success. “Hmmm,” he thought, “If I can do that, I can do anything.” So, he left behind happy thoughts of the Smurfs, and began to ponder this new topic. About an hour later, he got an idea. He quickly sat up in his chair, and spilled the remainder of his beer all over himself. At just that moment, the butler walked in. “Um, sir?” asked the butler, as he stifled a giggle, “Your dinner is ready.”
“Thank you” answered Carlson, trying to wipe off his sopping clothes, as well as suck the last of the beer out of it. “But first bring me some new pants!” he called to the retreating butler who was laughing hysterically. He got up, and headed towards the nearest bathroom, in order to change. As he dressed, he thought more about his scheme to become president. “Why not?” He thought. “I can lie, cheat and steal as well as anybody.” He headed towards his dinning room very pleased with himself. As he sat down, he called for his butler to bring him a telephone, so that he could call up his advisor.
“Hello?” asked the deep voice on the other line. “Yeah, this is Steve, whadya need Bill?”
“I have a brilliant, most EXCELENT idea.” Cried Carlson excitedly. “I am going to run for president!”
“Sounds good to me,” replied Steve, on the other line, “After all, you can lie, cheat and steal just as well as anybody. But you are going to need a campaign manager. Don’t worry, I know just the one.”
”Great,” exclaimed Bill, “What’s his name? Do you have his number?”
“Yeh,” answered Steve, “Name’s Paxtek, Taylor Paxtek. Number is 555-2344.”
“Great! Thanks!” said Bill, “Couldja spell Paxtek for me though?”
“Yeah, it’s, uhhh… ‘P’ as in pterodactyl, ‘A’ as in aardvark, ‘X’, as in xylophone, ‘T’ as in tsunami, ‘E’ as in Eugene, and ‘K’ as in knife.” Said Steve.
“Great! Thanks!” said Carlson, and he resumed eating his dinner.
Later that night, Carlson called up the new employee. “Um, hello? Is this a Taylor Tazsen?” asked Carlson, “Oh, excuse me, I mean Paxtek.”
“Speaking,” Answered a woman’s voice. “Who is this, may I ask?” questioned the woman.
“Uhhh bduh,” said Carlson, baffled at the surprise at Paxtek being a woman, “This is Senator Bill Carlson. My advisor, Steve Johnson referred me to you. You see, I plan to be PRESIDENT!”
“Um, ok…” Answered Taylor, “Would you like to schedule a meeting?”
“That would be great! Thanks!” said Carlson, before hanging up the receiver. Moments later, the phone rang. Carlson wondered who it was. “Um, hello?” he said into the phone. It was Taylor Paxtek. He was excited; this was the first time a woman had ever called him back.
“What makes you call?” asked Carlson. “Is it my melodious voice, my witty humor, my sleek intelligence?” he cooed, hoping he might get a date.
“Intelligence my butt.” Replied Taylor, “You forgot to make an appointment, idiot.”
Embarrassed, Carlson quickly made an appointment, and hung up the phone, and to dream of perhaps getting a date with the beautiful voice on the other line.
Carlson had never had a date in his life. He was not exceptionally bad looking. He had short, curly brown hair that was graying on the sides, he was five foot eight, and weighed about 190 pounds. No, he was sure his appearance was not the problem. Everyone but him knew the problem immediately. He had an incredibly annoying personality. He was a politician, so everything he said or did was trying to impress everyone, yet came out as a promise that was obviously going to be broken. Carlson, however, could not see this. He could not understand why women did not like him. He was rich. He had a huge house on Cape Cod, overlooking the ocean, and it had a lovely view of the ocean. What made him more confused was that the beautiful gifts he bought women, along with ‘witty’ comments that went with them, couldn’t win over a woman’s heart. “Oh well,” he thought as he fell asleep on the couch.
Part One
Chapter One: The Idea
Senator Bill Carlson sat in a blue reclining chair, with a beer resting on his stomach while he hummed the theme to “The Smurfs”, and thought about all he had accomplished in the past year. It was not much, but he considered finally figuring out how to work the cable on his 40-inch television quite a success. “Hmmm,” he thought, “If I can do that, I can do anything.” So, he left behind happy thoughts of the Smurfs, and began to ponder this new topic. About an hour later, he got an idea. He quickly sat up in his chair, and spilled the remainder of his beer all over himself. At just that moment, the butler walked in. “Um, sir?” asked the butler, as he stifled a giggle, “Your dinner is ready.”
“Thank you” answered Carlson, trying to wipe off his sopping clothes, as well as suck the last of the beer out of it. “But first bring me some new pants!” he called to the retreating butler who was laughing hysterically. He got up, and headed towards the nearest bathroom, in order to change. As he dressed, he thought more about his scheme to become president. “Why not?” He thought. “I can lie, cheat and steal as well as anybody.” He headed towards his dinning room very pleased with himself. As he sat down, he called for his butler to bring him a telephone, so that he could call up his advisor.
“Hello?” asked the deep voice on the other line. “Yeah, this is Steve, whadya need Bill?”
“I have a brilliant, most EXCELENT idea.” Cried Carlson excitedly. “I am going to run for president!”
“Sounds good to me,” replied Steve, on the other line, “After all, you can lie, cheat and steal just as well as anybody. But you are going to need a campaign manager. Don’t worry, I know just the one.”
”Great,” exclaimed Bill, “What’s his name? Do you have his number?”
“Yeh,” answered Steve, “Name’s Paxtek, Taylor Paxtek. Number is 555-2344.”
“Great! Thanks!” said Bill, “Couldja spell Paxtek for me though?”
“Yeah, it’s, uhhh… ‘P’ as in pterodactyl, ‘A’ as in aardvark, ‘X’, as in xylophone, ‘T’ as in tsunami, ‘E’ as in Eugene, and ‘K’ as in knife.” Said Steve.
“Great! Thanks!” said Carlson, and he resumed eating his dinner.
Later that night, Carlson called up the new employee. “Um, hello? Is this a Taylor Tazsen?” asked Carlson, “Oh, excuse me, I mean Paxtek.”
“Speaking,” Answered a woman’s voice. “Who is this, may I ask?” questioned the woman.
“Uhhh bduh,” said Carlson, baffled at the surprise at Paxtek being a woman, “This is Senator Bill Carlson. My advisor, Steve Johnson referred me to you. You see, I plan to be PRESIDENT!”
“Um, ok…” Answered Taylor, “Would you like to schedule a meeting?”
“That would be great! Thanks!” said Carlson, before hanging up the receiver. Moments later, the phone rang. Carlson wondered who it was. “Um, hello?” he said into the phone. It was Taylor Paxtek. He was excited; this was the first time a woman had ever called him back.
“What makes you call?” asked Carlson. “Is it my melodious voice, my witty humor, my sleek intelligence?” he cooed, hoping he might get a date.
“Intelligence my butt.” Replied Taylor, “You forgot to make an appointment, idiot.”
Embarrassed, Carlson quickly made an appointment, and hung up the phone, and to dream of perhaps getting a date with the beautiful voice on the other line.
Carlson had never had a date in his life. He was not exceptionally bad looking. He had short, curly brown hair that was graying on the sides, he was five foot eight, and weighed about 190 pounds. No, he was sure his appearance was not the problem. Everyone but him knew the problem immediately. He had an incredibly annoying personality. He was a politician, so everything he said or did was trying to impress everyone, yet came out as a promise that was obviously going to be broken. Carlson, however, could not see this. He could not understand why women did not like him. He was rich. He had a huge house on Cape Cod, overlooking the ocean, and it had a lovely view of the ocean. What made him more confused was that the beautiful gifts he bought women, along with ‘witty’ comments that went with them, couldn’t win over a woman’s heart. “Oh well,” he thought as he fell asleep on the couch.