Hot Cakes.....Get your Hot Cakes Here!

Tonight Alan and I engaged in some Fiction Based Improv Olympics. We each wrote the start of a story and passed it back and forth a few times continuing where the other had left off. Please to enjoy!

Dark Holiday
The night was cold and dreary. Rain and snow mixed together to fall to earth as a mushy form of hell. Everything froze as it made contact with any earthly shape. Anyone with any sense about them stayed indoors and made due with whatever provisions and entertainment was available to them. Alice sat in her room playing with her toys and wishing for a warm summer’s day.
Alice alternated between playing with her favorite toys and cursing whoever had caused such awful weather. Alice wanted desperately to go outside and bask in the summer sun and soak up the warmth of the earth. As Alice played with her toys her mind continued to wrap around the hatred she felt for the cold and rain and sleet. Her heart cursed anyone associated with such a vile time of year. At that moment Alice loathed winter and anything associated with it, including Christmas. She wished Christmas would just be canceled and for the sun to come out and warm everything up.
In the North Pole, Santa Clause was forced into bed rest. He was suffering from all kinds of pains and afflictions that had suddenly affected him out of the blue. It was as if some unknown source had cursed him with some kind of evil voodoo and was inflicting as much pain and suffering that they could imagine. Santa could not bear to leave his bed, let alone fly his reindeer around the world delivering toys to all the good boys and girls. Including a young Miss Alice who was due for some very special gifts.
"Who can help me with my deliveries?"
The puss ran from his mouth
"Who can save Christmas?"
As Santa checked his rolodex he eventually landed on Father Christmas. Who was occupied.
After exhausting all his options. Senor Noel, Felix David. St. Nick. All were busy. He tried his last option.

Alice waited buy the tree. As midnight drew near she felt a cold wind that cut her very soul. In it she realized all the bad things she had done for the last year. The sadness she made everyone feel. The pain. The suffering.
Then a spindly body sleeked from the Chimney.
"Santa?"
"Santa"
"No" came the raspy reply.
As the beast stood, it was green and quite the opposite of jolly.
"I am Kinter Krouse"
"Who, W-Wheres Santa?"
"Santa no longer exists. By this time he is no more"
"What did you do to him you monster?"
"Me, nothing it was a demon known as Diabetes I am his replacement."
"So d-did you bring me toys?"
"Yesss deary I did but you may not like them."

With that a puff of smoke filled the room and the beast was gone. Beneath the tree lay piles of presents but some didn't seem right.
Kitner Krouse escaped the house after depositing his new toys for young Alice. He rejoiced in the fact that his long time nemesis Santa was dead and he could now distribute his evil and vile toys to the young people throughout the world.
Back in Alice’s living room she took her first present in her hand. It was a small wooden box that resembled a jewelry box much like her mothers. Alice raised the lid expecting some charming song to play and perhaps a small ballerina to spin, but what was inside scarred young Alice so bad she recoiled in horror and dropped the box. Inside was a still beating heart that once belonged to Santa Clause. Kitner had given it to Alice because she was the final child to wish harm upon Santa in one form or another, and he had finally succumbed to his disease and perished.
Alice began crying uncontrollably and wished she could take it all back. All the bad things she had done and all the bad things she had thought about Santa.
Suddenly a booming voice filled the room.
“Alice, you can make it all go away. All you must do is truly change your heart and renounce the bad things you have done, and all will return to normal”
Alice recognized the booming voice of that of Santa Clause and knew what she must do. She must ask Santa for forgiveness for all she had done and hope that it was enough to end Kitner’s hold on Christmas and bring Santa back. While still hearing the beating of Santa’s heart in the box at her feet, Alice closed her eyes so tight and asked Santa to mark her down as being nice instead of naughty.
As soon as she finished her thought, Alice fell to the floor. A black ooze began to pour from every hole in her body. The steaming pile of evil spilled out of Alice and began to envelop her. Soon enough there was nothing left of Alice but a big black stain on the floor.
From far away, Kitner Klouse could be heard laughing as his plan had worked and he had claimed another young child’s soul for his collection.

Secret Origins.
The Greatest
I was the greatest! The Greatest! From Tulsa to Santa Fe I played. Every song, I literally knew every song. Until that faithful night in tombstone! As I was leaving the bar, I failed to notice the ruffians' mule which was hitched to the post. As its hoof rose, in the blink of an eye I was down. The hoof print forever etched into my forehead. But worst of all I couldn't remember my songs. Now I was forced to play again from, Sheet Music. I feel ill just thinking about it. Now the worst part. I had to give up my carefree life of booze, broads and tunes. Now I must give lessons.
The Student
My mom is making me do this. I really wanted to be a cowboy or at least an Indian. I never wanted to play the piano! But my mom said, "I won't have you dying in a gun fight like all your 5 brothers." You're my baby and its culture for you. So I must play. After all I'm all she has left since my sisters were kidnapped by Indians (oh how I wish I was them. So I am forced to spend every afternoon with that freak! Why should I play piano when I was destined to shoot?
The Greatest
The boy comes in dull and limp as ever. He has no posture. That's the key you know, posture. He shall never be successful on the stage. Not only that but he is such a pansy!! I think his mother has strangled every ounce of boyhood out of him. And she is so damn clingy. Always hovering, trying to interject during my lessons. Even with this hoof print forever embedded in my skull I am twenty times the player that she ever will be. I wish she would just leave us alone and let me do the job she pays me such a pittance to do. And this kid will never learn anything. He's more concerned with escaping his mother's tyranny than learning anything about the beautiful instrument.
The Student
My piano teacher is so weird. He walks around talking about how he's the greatest piano player that ever lived, but he can hardly read the music and his head looks like it could be used as an ashtray. And he smells like he's drunk all the time. Just like Daddy used to be before he ran off on mom and me. I don't like him very much. On top of his insistence on my posture being perfect, he keeps asking me about girls in my school and when I will get a girlfriend. First of all, I'm way too young to be thinking of girlfriends, and girls are just so gross and weird. I'd much rather play with Ronny from down the street. Playing Good Cop, Bad Prisoner is way better than trying to hammer out some stupid song on the piano. And when we are done with all the lessons for the day, my teacher insists on showing me some new dumb card trick he's come up with.
The Greatest
This pansy boy will never amount to a hill of beans. He doesn't even like my card tricks. Everyone likes my card tricks! At least all the ladies do. And that's another thing. This kid has no interest in girls. What a fruitcake. At least the checks clear. Keeps me in liquor if nothing else. He also has no idea what makes a good piano player. I tell him regulate your body. Drink 17 cups of milk a day. Have good posture. Just yesterday I saw him drinking a soda. A soda! Someday I will escape this life. I will use my swift fingers and deft hands to leave this impossible horrible retched life. TO ESCAPE!
The student
Something strange happened today. First teacher showed up in a straight jacket and bound by what he said was 100 yards of rope (looked more like 98 to me). He then had me bound him to a flagpole upside down and I'm good at knots cause of all my games. He quickly and quite easily escaped then chained himself inside the piano and appeared outside naked (quite a sight). Then he proclaimed that my lack of talent ruined his love for piano. I will show this bastard. He doubts me. I will grow up big and strong. I will drink my milk. I will become the greatest piano player ever. Not only that but I will make my piano playing into a show. The show to end all shows. I will show that Mr. Houdini or my name isn't liberachi.
Epilogue
Thus two great careers were born and the world was never the same.