Create a groan-inducing opening to a novel

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The trouble with the most previous post is that there IS fascination evoked by it!

OK, try this:

As Shane rode into Dodge, he began to feel the pain in the ass his new saddle was causing him. "OK", he thought wistfully to himself, "I will buy a little cushion to attach to my saddle when I get to Dodge, even if it does make me look silly out on the prairie with the other guys and the Indians!"

Ha ha, I'm happy that made you laugh. They're brilliant. I think this is one of the best games I've seen on here.

Wanda Winterlove, irregardless of being one of the most beautiful and cleverest girls at her school, always knew she was very different from all of the other girls at her school who never had understood her, but Wanda really had no idea just how different she really was until the day when she approached her bedroom door to open it, reaching out her hand and then grabbing the brass doorknob, and as she began to turn the doorknob she abruptly received a shock of electricity from the metal like a hundred electric eels wrapping around her arm and her beautiful raven dark hair suddenly stood up on its ends like a sea anemone, and that's when Wanda first realized that something was not right and she started to become aware of her new mystical powers.

I enjoy this game a lot also. Thanks OP!

Pleasure, glad you enjoy it.


It began like any other day for Delicia, with the ringing of the alarm, the singing of the plastic automatic kettle, the soft mudlike plopping of the boiling porridge, the flushing of her white porcelain loo after her morning movement, the brushing and subsequent flossing of her pearly teeth, after which the shrill ringing of the telephone, the sound of her picking it up with the requisite greeting, and listening to its unusual caller began to make her day unlike all others which had gone before.

Arinal, third son of Merinth the Wanderer, was born in Elicorn, which lies on the eastern slope of Mount Pellicorne, southwest of the great city of Orinteth, near the village of Tethidor, also known to the Mastigoth people by its ancient name, Terthidoria.

"It was the best of times, it was the wurst of times," Otto the Sausage-Maker wrote, as he at long last sat down to write his memoir.

^a true groan

The fan sat oscillating in the corner of Medifor Clinefrock's wide open office window like a dismayed pundit of his overworked newspaper advertisements, blowing gales of what would otherwise be curious outside interest over a desk that had become harbor to a world in which Medifor was but a dignified, unwitting portage of cargo.

Creeping through the dark, tremulous yet irked, bumping delicate toes against hard, cruel, unexpected furniture, I once again raged against light bulbs which burn out when most needed.