Forum Game Thread
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"Where's Papa going with that ax?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast. And then the murders began.
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@Aodhfin omg. I almost spit tea.
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I remember the day the Aleut ship came to our island. And then the murders began.
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"I've watched through his eyes, I've listened through his ears, and tell you he's the one." And then the murders began.
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A small lizard perched on a brown stone. And then the murders began.
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The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow
with a pond of clear water in it. And then the murders began.
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I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up. And then the murders began.
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The interview at S-Mart went well. And then the murders began.
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It was a nice day. And then the murders began...
(Thank you, Good Omens.)
Saying the quiet parts out loud since 1996.
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"Would you like a doughnut?" And then the murders began.
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"You're good, but you're no Luke Skywalker." And then the murders began.
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When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton. And then the murders began.
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Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot... but the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, did not. And then the murders began.
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Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife. Then the murders began.
I am Sam. Then the murders began.
In the great green room. Then the murders began
The night wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another his mother called him “WILD THING!”. Then the murders began.
The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play, so we sat in the house all that cold, cold wet day. Then the murders began
Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a book," thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?' Then the murders began.
Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmond, and Lucy. Then the murders began.
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The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor’s farm. And then the murders began.
By day, the Nicollet Mall winds through Minneapolis like a paved canal. And then the murders began.
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In the early 1850s, few pedestrians strolling past the house on H Street in Washington, near the White House, realized that the ancient widow seated by the window, knitting and arranging flowers, was the last surviving link to the glory days of the early republic.
And then the murders began.
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For ten years, Calvin and Hobbes was one the world's most beloved comic strips. And then the murders began.
from the blurb on amazon: For ten years, Calvin and Hobbes was one the world's most beloved comic strips. And then, on the last day of 1995, the strip ended. Its mercurial and reclusive creator, Bill Watterson, not only finished the strip but withdrew entirely from public life.
It could go at the end and work, but two and thens seems poor.
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It was a dark and stormy night. In her attic bedroom Margaret Murry, wrapped in an old patchwork quilt, sat on the foot of her bed and watched the trees tossing in the frenzied lashing of the wind. And then the murders began.
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He's dead, Jim. And then the murders began.
Bonus Slogan version.
Just do it. And then the murders began.
We have the meats. And then the murders began.
Welcome to the after party. And then the murders began.
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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
And then the murders began.
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All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. And then the murders began.
When in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, the earth being untamed and shapeless, God said, "Let there be Light!" And then the murders began.
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"All children, except one, grow up."
And then the murders began.
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There were three close friends, two guys and a girl, that hung out together quite a bit. Both guys liked the girl, and the girl liked both guys, but one a little more. To tease the guy she favored and to make him a little jealous, the girl decided to kiss the other friend. A few months later, this other friend found out that she was his long lost sister.
And then the murders began.
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We called him Old Yeller. The name had a sort of double meaning. One part meant that his short hair was a dingy yellow, a color that we called “yeller” in those days. The other meant that when he opened his head, the sound he let out came closer to being a yell than a bark. And then the murders began.
The sun did not shine.
It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house
All that cold, cold, wet day.
I sat there with Sally.
We sat there, we two.
And I said, “How I wish
We had something to do!”
And then the murders began. -
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One sunny Sunday afternoon, the caterpillar was hatched out of a tiny egg. He was very hungry. And then the murders began.
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Once upon a time, sixty years ago, a little girl lived in the Big Woods of Wisconsin, in a little gray house of logs. And then the murders began.
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Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main
road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with
alders and ladies’ eardrops and traversed by a brook that
had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert
place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in
its earlier course through those woods, with dark secrets of
pool and cascade; but by the time it reached Lynde’s Hollow
it was a quiet, well-conducted little stream, for not even a
brook could run past Mrs. Rachel Lynde’s door without due
regard for decency and decorum; it probably was conscious
that Mrs. Rachel was sitting at her window, keeping a sharp
eye on everything that passed, from brooks and children
up, and that if she noticed anything odd or out of place she
would never rest until she had ferreted out the whys and
wherefores thereof. And then the murders began.
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