The NSG Bulwer-Lytton Competition II: The Winner!

[Novus America]

Waking from a pleasant dream of fair maidens and exotic fruits he was plunged into the cold and terrifying uncertainty of the day, like a cat tossed from a skyscraper on a dark and stormy night, except in the day, his survival theoretically possible although far from certain, dread eating into his stomach like a giant centipede tearing into a paralyzed mouse.

[Piraccas]

Most people just laugh it off when you tell them you're an axe murderer for a living(the ones that don't usually wait until you leave the room to call the police); I always get people asking me what it's like, how's the pay, how can you sleep with yourself at night, yada yada yada, but I don't care about any of that- I just love being a mailman.

[Piraccas]

The scene was totes legit and Instagrammable, the kind of thing you'd see on Pinterest but never in real life, so I was forreals like "bruh" when the tree my aunt/sister was posing next to came to life and ripped her open with a spray of red like I'd just stepped on a Taco Bell hot sauce packet.

[Neanderthaland]

It's not my own work, but the best of these I've ever read were:

"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room; there was a knock on the door."

and it's variation:

"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room; there was a lock on the door."

[Piraccas]

Sumtim lyfe be dummy thicc and sumtim lyfe be a Karen.

[Cannot think of a name]

It's not my own work, but the best of these I've ever read were:

"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room; there was a knock on the door."

and it's variation:

"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room; there was a lock on the door."

Turns out he was the chillest man to ever apocalypse.

[Cannot think of a name]

Tom could explain the cat, the pizza plate, the lug wrench, and the kitchen timer, but was at a loss to explain the volume of snot.

[Bombadil]

“Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan.. you know there’s a lot more Stans than one would expect”, thought Dr. Reginald Archregimancy, noted archaeologist and spare time Nazi hunter, as he perused his map of Central Asia wondering where to start his quest for the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch.

[Cannot think of a name]

"I like big butts and I cannot lie" turned out to not be the opener Dr. Harold Wentmier hoped it would be.

[Bombadil]

D.I Max Strength dragged on his cigarette like he was sucking the last of the petrol out of a tank, his craggy eyes peered through warm rain that drizzled down like vinaigrette on a salad as he waited for the lady to return, a lady who both excited and frightened him, the combination of reward and hurt of a hot currry, like the best sort of sex.

[Pax Nerdvana]

The crusty, weather beaten, old sailor sat at the bar, drinking whisky after whisky; because his spinach had failed him, so he sat there muttering something about "I yam no longer what I yam."

[Xmara]

It was a dark and stormy night- except it wasn't night, it was 2 pm, and it was partly cloudy with only a 30% chance of light showers, so I guess it wasn't much of a dark and stormy night after all.

[Xmara]

John Smith ensconced himself on the nanoscopic, adamantine, ligneous, mahogany settle in the capacious, marmoreal judicature quarters, experiencing copious apprehension as he awaited the egregious, yet exiguous inculpations instituted against him by the constabulary: first degree thesaurus abuse.

[Farnhamia]

It had been a dark and stormy night; not surprising because it had been nighttime and the weather in Britain, where our story is laid, is often stormy. Well, perhaps not stormy, per se, thought there is a good deal of precipitation. Detective 1st Grade Sandra Dayton, on assignment from the States, as the locals insisted on calling America, looked up and down the wet street, thinking, "Why are those men across the street looking at my clothes?"

[Northwest Slobovia]

"It was a dark and stormy night, or should be", Gregor thought, as that would make the warm, sunny day match his dark and stormy mood, which had been brought on by seeing too many of those damned Smile!-and-happy-face posters people had put up to raise peoples' spirits, but which had instead only served to make him refer to their slogan as the "s-word" so as to match the n-word and the f-bomb, the f-bomb reminding him, via several hops, skips, and jumps of logic – along with two non-stop flights of fancy – that he had a magic marker in his pocket, and this he used to cross-out and replace the loathsome s-word with a variety of messages closer to his own heart, some obscene and some merely less cloying, incidentally showing that the pen is mightier than the s-word.

[MGTOWia]

Sadly she slumped in the darkness of bitterest despair, beside the slowly deforming candle that flickered and fumed with fragrances of dollar bills and rafflesia blossoms, tears leaking from her lachrymal ducts and gliding down her melancholy, love-lorn face with the size, shape and speed of methane droplets drifting happily through the frigid, choking atmosphere of Titan’s wintry northern hemisphere.

[Xmara]

As his gaze shifted from one side of his office to the other, Joe muttered to himself "Crap, I really need to redecorate."

[Xmara]

Being a telepath is great until you accidentally peer into the mind of someone who is reading a Bee Movie fanfic.

[Czechostan]

It was a dark and stormy night, but what truly made me unsettled and miserable was being stuck in a room with a dozen Britons who wouldn't shut up about how awful the weather was.

[Czechostan]

"It was a dark and st" was all I had time to write for an opening line for my novel, because I live in Victorian England, and the winds blew open my windows, blew out my candle, and doused my papers with several liters of water.

[The Free Joy State]

It had been a dark and stormy night; not surprising because it had been nighttime and the weather in Britain, where our story is laid, is often stormy. Well, perhaps not stormy, per se, thought there is a good deal of precipitation. Detective 1st Grade Sandra Dayton, on assignment from the States, as the locals insisted on calling America, looked up and down the wet street, thinking, "Why are those men across the street looking at my clothes?"

Meanwhile, the perfectly snug, slightly smug and dry British Detective looked at the sodden Detective Dayton and shook her head with mild amusement, pacing all the while in her lined boots -- the acceptably mild drizzle running in torrents down the arm of her raincoat -- and mused: Why do they always forget an umbrella?

[Bombadil]

It had been a dark and stormy night; not surprising because it had been nighttime and the weather in Britain, where our story is laid, is often stormy. Well, perhaps not stormy, per se, thought there is a good deal of precipitation. Detective 1st Grade Sandra Dayton, on assignment from the States, as the locals insisted on calling America, looked up and down the wet street, thinking, "Why are those men across the street looking at my clothes?"

Meanwhile, the perfectly snug, slightly smug and dry British Detective looked at the sodden Detective Dayton and shook her head with mild amusement, pacing all the while in her lined boots -- the acceptably mild drizzle running in torrents down the arm of her raincoat -- and mused: Why do they always forget an umbrella?

"Smug little, limey asshole", thought Dayton, "they'd be speaking German if it wasn't for us".

[The Free Joy State]

Meanwhile, the perfectly snug, slightly smug and dry British Detective looked at the sodden Detective Dayton and shook her head with mild amusement, pacing all the while in her lined boots -- the acceptably mild drizzle running in torrents down the arm of her raincoat -- and mused: Why do they always forget an umbrella?

"Smug little, limey asshole", thought Dayton, "they'd be speaking German if it wasn't for us".

The British Detective ruefully thought, as she extended her hand for Detective Dayton to shake, that she had indeed known her American counterpart was a mind-reader, she would not have been so free with her thoughts.

[Dumb Ideologies]

It was three years now since he had been assigned to the fish-slap serial killer case, so Jack H. Johnson finally freed himself from the imminent risk of near-suffocation from cigar ash and prostitute breasts and decided to pop into the office.

[Bombadil]

"Smug little, limey asshole", thought Dayton, "they'd be speaking German if it wasn't for us".

The British Detective ruefully thought, as she extended her hand for Detective Dayton to shake, that she had indeed known her American counterpart was a mind-reader, she would not have been so free with her thoughts.

"Damn, you're a mind reader too", exclaimed Dayton, "guess we can dispense with the false niceties then.."