Whose Line: Stone Dragons

Miranda slipped into the room. “The Great Stone Dragon is following me.”

Kylie and Nan looked up from their tea with similar expressions of concern. Kylie tilted her head. “Did you watch Mulan yesterday?”

“Of course,” Miranda replied as she closed the door behind her. “The one Mushu destroyed must have been a fake because the actual Great Stone Dragon is following me around.” Miranda lifted the edges of the curtains and peeked out, her thick brown hair falling over the shoulders of her trench coat.

Nan raised her eyebrow at Kylie. Kylie sighed, shook her head, and picked up another scone.

“Irritate any ancestors by cross dressing, Miranda?” Nan asked and sipped her tea.

Miranda turned and looked at Nan with exasperation. “My ancestors keep their meddling to a less than animate form.” She dropped the curtain and took two large steps away from the window. Kylie offered Miranda a tea cup, but Miranda shook her head and took a scone instead. “Not even the government can put a stop to it.” [1]

“You asked the government?” Quite startled, Kylie set her tea cup down.

“The police were less than helpful.” Miranda grumbled and munched into her scone.

“I can imagine.” Nan’s tone was so dry that Miranda considered stealing her tea.

“They would not let me fill out a restraining order.” Miranda continued munching her scone.

“There are only five points on a pentagon,” [2] Kylie said. “I imagine that’s a lot less than whatever is on your form. Why don’t you make a containment pentagram and lock it in there?”

“Why don’t we?” Miranda hopped up. “I’ll get the chalk.”

Nan rolled her eyes, but played along.

They trooped outside. Miranda drew the pentagram, Kylie and Nan looked around for a large stone gargoyle.

“You can’t always see the moon.” [3] Miranda said. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”


[1] from Kathryn.

[2] from Gwen.

[3] from Kathryn again.


Whose Line: Wait, What?

“You have a flair for adding a fanciful element to any story,” Avery read.

Roz looked up, her chopsticks halfway to her lips, and her eyes wide. “You have a psychic fortune cookie fortune.”

“You have a job in the department of redundancy department,” Nan quipped.

Roz pointed with her chopsticks. “Avery writes fantasy stories even when she is trying to write journalism articles.” She noticed she still had food on her chopsticks and ate it. “Psychic cookie.”

“Well,” Avery said, “It does seem more apt than your fortune.”

Roz glared. “If you touch that I will fill your ears with mayonnaise.”

Nan blinked at Roz. “That was your fortune? Your cookie threatened you with mayonnaise over a non specified object?”

Roz reached down and picked up Leroy. “I was talking to Avery’s cat. He wants my kung pao.”

Leroy squirmed and Roz tossed him across the kitchen where he landed in a huff and began washing his hind quarters as if offended that someone would mention mayonnaise and his ears in the same sentence.”

“Then what was your fortune?” Nan asked. She collected the napkins and chopstick wrappers and put them in the take out bag.

“You will meet a new friend.” Roz shrugged and boxed up her left over kung pao.

“Too soon to see if it is psychic,” Nan decided.

“It’s Roz, she doesn’t make friends. She gets recruits or minions.” Avery took pity on Leroy and put her plate on the floor so he could lick up the scraps.

Roz slammed her fist on the table. “Damn you for Villains, who are you!?”

“Was I the Evil assistant, or the head minion?” Avery asked Nan.

“Ginger, you’re the assistant. I’m the minion.” Nan took the plate from Leroy, gathered up all the trash, and tossed it into the kitchen can.

We could visit him after dinner, you and I,” Avery suggested to Nan with a flutter of her eyelashes.

“Wait, what?” asked Roz.

“Avery, we couldn’t do that…” Nan touched her right hand to her throat.

“I missed something, didn’t I?” Roz asked the cat. Leroy, still irked about the mayonnaise comment sauntered out of the room with a tail flick that suggested Roz did miss something and that the ignorant mortal may as well get used to it as the higher life forms were never going to explain.

Nan and Avery laughed. Avery regained her gravitas. “We are of course talking about the hero you have imprisoned in your closet.”

“You leave Dr. Pepper alone.” Roz scowled. “You do not have my permission to abuse prisoners.” She seized the unused set of chopsticks and brandished them at each of her roommates in turn. “Minion, fetch me Pandemic, I wish to fight the legions of supernatural diseases. Assistant, make sure the dark furred creature is not performing unspeakable acts upon my footwear.”

“Of course Dread Lord.” Avery and Nan responded in unison and bowed. Roz sat back regally in her chair and tapped her foot. It would never due for the Dread Lord of the Isle to seem patient. “And get me a glass of water!” She thought about that for a moment. “Please,” she added.


The lines in italics were suggested by readers. The first, from ApprenticeNeverMaster, the second from FliptheOtter, and the third by Kathryn. If you have lines you would like to challenge me to put in a story, leave them in the comments. If you want to know more about this project, check the Whose Line page.

Whose Line: Gathering Lines from the Audience

Whose Line Is It Anyway is both an improvisational comedy TV show and an improv game. I love them both.

The game required two or more players to take lines generated by the audience before the show and work them into an otherwise “normal” improv scene. In that spirit, I would love to write some blog posts in the style of “Whose Line”. So in the comments, please write original sentences, odd quotes, facts from strange websites, a line of dialogue or an idiom. Whatever comes to mind. I’ll take the lines, write them on scraps of paper, draw one at random and insert it into a piece of fiction I’m writing. In fact I will probably use two or three lines per fiction piece. But this only works with phrases. So audience, may I have some lines?