Short story 2
Cades life could start looking up and was then feeling less let down by life and more excited to get up in the morning. With the help of his friends, he could get some of his small 2 minutes skits off the ground. many laughs and great times had been had doing all the creation of the different worlds. Cade started to become obsessed with excelling in his movie making skills, so he had spent countless hours, self teaching himself new ways to put movies together, and make explosions and fake guns come to life. There was always a time when Cade wanted to prove himself to people and show that he could make something that would make people cheer and leave them in awe. One day he found a way to do, just that. At his job there was a section called “Business Management”. Business Management had began to collect things for there yearly awards, mainly a popularity contest, but this was his chance. Everybody went to the awards, and before each act there were always movies and small videos to introduce each award presenter. Each year had a theme, and after he had signed up for the class he just had to hope that the theme was something he could work with. As the days went on the theme was announced.
“Movie parodies” perfect, he had already thought of some ideas that would fit this themes. He was the lead camera man and directed most of the video, people helped with coming up with ideas, this helped him keep things fresh and new. First was Action movies, next was making fun of Romance, then horror, then finally, a parody of other award videos. Cade got to work with more people and opened up his mind to new movie ideas and made sure everything had his highest quality put into the project.
Then started the problems. Cade was very much so, into action movies. It was rare that his videos did not feature some kind of firearm, or violence. Where Cade worked, any showing of guns was frowned upon, and regarded as inappropriate. There were only a few more days and the movie had already been edited. What was he to do? This was the exact test he was looking for. While everybody was freaking out, he stayed calm. This was what filming was all about! The challange! Instead of giving up, he edited like crazy, re shot his scenes he had to shoot, and watched the film render every night and day something needed edited. Finally he had a final product and was ready to show off what he had made.
Show time reared its head and thought that, “Wow, this is the first time a mass of people had seen a movie he had created.” Everybody he had shown it to, was happy, and thought it was great. Now it was time for the big show. The first thing he noticed was, THERE WAS NO AUDIO! Cade had a small freak out and started to grow sad. Then the fix. The audio burst to life. The song “Check my brain” blared on to the speakers and everybody jumped. The video rolled on and people were cheering. After the video had shown people seemed pleased with what Cade offered and when the award for movie maker came around, he didn't get the award. One of his friends had received it. Although he had won his friend got up on stage. “ Lets give Cade a round of applause for that great short film!” Everybody cheered again and Cade was truly happy that his work could make some many people happy.
Short story by Quinn Ritter
The oil stained the floor and gave a greasy gloss on the old chipped concrete. Every crack and blemish, holding there own story about the past. Victories and losses were made in this place and the gloom of the losses was found in all the dark corners. Yet, victories were all found in one place, and sometimes the shining reminder of 1984s big win, the reflection of the “Best original” and many many more, gave way to a light that covered the dark corners of this place. This place is quiet, and still, and at peace. A sound crackles alive in the old chain driven door opener. A light is slowly bled through the door and gives way to something new. A new something that could make more memories for the floor to carry, and to make this place a darker steel walled box, or a shining achievement. The year is 2013, but the treasure that was slowly creeping in was from a different time. Before a seat belt had to be put on, and before the environment was a wilting mess. This car did not know the meaning of slow and this age clearly showed. As it came to a halt the lights came on. Every wrinkle and oxidized piece of steel came to life again. The parts that were still existing had a powdery, chalk like feel to them, and if you had rubbed your hand across its cold shell, a light red film covered your hands. It was cold, dead, and lifeless. Yet held more stories then one could imagine. In fact some could say it had more of a personality then some lively people. It had more soul than others, at least more than a man on wall street, and could make people cry, could make them happy or sad, relieved or stressed. It could feel wounded, or hurt, it could die if it wasn't taken care of. It could hold you when you're sad, or make you feel invincible when angry. As the wounded beast finally rested in its new home it looked tired and worn. It was no longer the loud screaming piece of metal it once was. It made a squeak of pain when moved and was looked upon as pitiful to other people. It had not tasted the sting of octane in years. If it had right now, taken in the life of a high octane fuel, it would be its last straw. It would fall down and need a new heart. The years had taken its toll, and it made hard to be recreated. It needed an operation. But this would not be quick. It was not the first time it had been through this. There had been others. But would this be its last? Would it spring back to life? For the first year, the man who operated had made much progress. Now time has moved on. moved from one place to the next, it was no longer the chalky scarlet it once was, it was now a midnight blue. Winter had rolled by and lights had filled the home of the operator. Sad and stricken is what the lifeless steel sheets could feel. Its operator had not helped in so long. months had gone by. It could not feel pain, neglect, or cold, but it suffered. The time it had been left out, had yet again taken its toll. Spring had now come, and was being slowly pulled into the cold steel home it once knew. This operator was different though. It was a younger man. He was similar to the last owner. He had the same eyes and almost the same size. The only difference with the mans eyes, was the watery streams the came from them. The man was weeping. To what it was supposed to be, it had changed from a future champion, to a wonderful tribute. Now the moving steel skeleton was becoming its former self. If fact better. The younger man told the beast all his secrets, his dreams, and his memories of the older operator. The man's tears now turned into laughter and happiness over the weeks. No more, did the beast hold the cancer like framework it once had. It now had a new heart and was getting closer to movement. The younger operator now filled the metal structure with the sting of heavy octane. It now had the shock of electricity in its bones. The operator stepped into the beast and turned the electrical start. It fired into life and had the heat of explosions erupt in its body and the rumble shook the building and vibrated the ground. The cars great journey was finally over and started its new life. To be carried over to the operators small son. Although the slick new painted metal was growing with happiness. It showed the old man in its reflection. It was a representation of a legacy. A life. And a new start.
The oil stained the floor and gave a greasy gloss on the old chipped concrete. Every crack and blemish, holding there own story about the past. Victories and losses were made in this place and the gloom of the losses was found in all the dark corners. Yet, victories were all found in one place, and sometimes the shining reminder of 1984s big win, the reflection of the “Best original” and many many more, gave way to a light that covered the dark corners of this place. This place is quiet, and still, and at peace. A sound crackles alive in the old chain driven door opener. A light is slowly bled through the door and gives way to something new. A new something that could make more memories for the floor to carry, and to make this place a darker steel walled box, or a shining achievement. The year is 2013, but the treasure that was slowly creeping in was from a different time. Before a seat belt had to be put on, and before the environment was a wilting mess. This car did not know the meaning of slow and this age clearly showed. As it came to a halt the lights came on. Every wrinkle and oxidized piece of steel came to life again. The parts that were still existing had a powdery, chalk like feel to them, and if you had rubbed your hand across its cold shell, a light red film covered your hands. It was cold, dead, and lifeless. Yet held more stories then one could imagine. In fact some could say it had more of a personality then some lively people. It had more soul than others, at least more than a man on wall street, and could make people cry, could make them happy or sad, relieved or stressed. It could feel wounded, or hurt, it could die if it wasn't taken care of. It could hold you when you're sad, or make you feel invincible when angry. As the wounded beast finally rested in its new home it looked tired and worn. It was no longer the loud screaming piece of metal it once was. It made a squeak of pain when moved and was looked upon as pitiful to other people. It had not tasted the sting of octane in years. If it had right now, taken in the life of a high octane fuel, it would be its last straw. It would fall down and need a new heart. The years had taken its toll, and it made hard to be recreated. It needed an operation. But this would not be quick. It was not the first time it had been through this. There had been others. But would this be its last? Would it spring back to life? For the first year, the man who operated had made much progress. Now time has moved on. moved from one place to the next, it was no longer the chalky scarlet it once was, it was now a midnight blue. Winter had rolled by and lights had filled the home of the operator. Sad and stricken is what the lifeless steel sheets could feel. Its operator had not helped in so long. months had gone by. It could not feel pain, neglect, or cold, but it suffered. The time it had been left out, had yet again taken its toll. Spring had now come, and was being slowly pulled into the cold steel home it once knew. This operator was different though. It was a younger man. He was similar to the last owner. He had the same eyes and almost the same size. The only difference with the mans eyes, was the watery streams the came from them. The man was weeping. To what it was supposed to be, it had changed from a future champion, to a wonderful tribute. Now the moving steel skeleton was becoming its former self. If fact better. The younger man told the beast all his secrets, his dreams, and his memories of the older operator. The man's tears now turned into laughter and happiness over the weeks. No more, did the beast hold the cancer like framework it once had. It now had a new heart and was getting closer to movement. The younger operator now filled the metal structure with the sting of heavy octane. It now had the shock of electricity in its bones. The operator stepped into the beast and turned the electrical start. It fired into life and had the heat of explosions erupt in its body and the rumble shook the building and vibrated the ground. The cars great journey was finally over and started its new life. To be carried over to the operators small son. Although the slick new painted metal was growing with happiness. It showed the old man in its reflection. It was a representation of a legacy. A life. And a new start.