One writer's experiment to tackle any subject his friends come up with.

Serious Monkey

Vale of Peers

Ashteroth bore his band’s message of pain and loathing well on his small, perforated frame. The network of piercings: ears, nose, lips, cheek, tongue, nipples, epiglottis, interconnected with a cat’s cradle of chains, rubber bands, bits of bone and feather. One might think from his slight, ninety-eight pound build that the metal web girdling his face made eating an infrequent affair. One would be right, partially. But more importantly, one would be at risk of missing the metaphor provided, that being just how utterly shit this thing called life really was.

The Rise and Fall of the Gatewood Empire
he pulled from his vest pocket a small daguerreotype of himself holding a couple of dollars in gold nuggets: his first real find. The picture had cost him most of the profit shown in his hand…

The Last Baloney Sandwich. Ever.
“There’s nothing! Nothing!” Doctor Steve emerged, his head wreathed in fog, his face set in disbelief.