Poll: should my friend finish the story
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Voters: 11.
my friend wrote this our freshmen year of track and idk that was 2 years ago and i was wondering if he should finish it...give me some feedback please

'Mr. Jones A Tayle of No Abs An Epic Tale by Some Guy
There was a time in the early twenty first century when there was a fellow that I knew who was lacking in one pathetic aspect of life.

Mr. Jones had no abs. He was in fantastic shape being a cross and track runner but seemed to not be able to get abs.While this should not pose any situation of interest it would lead to a great quest fighting monsters, bringing great mysteries to an end, and not getting abs. The story begins in the ancient nation of the United States in the ancient time of the Information Age. There was a small town in a medium state where there resided the great Lynn “No Abs” Jones. He would sit at his computer and fondle his guitar with one hand while typing with the other, all the while not having any abs. Then without warning there was a bright flash of light and omething along the lines of a pop or bang. Before any utterance of surprise could find its way out of Mr. Jones’s mouth, shock was replaced with a rather droll thought not backed by any abs of course for standing before him was an elf dressed in a hot brown tunic and dirty white boots with a longbow strapped across his back and
wearing sword in his belt and a .50 caliber pistol in a holster on his arm.

He was under the orders of the Supremely High Council Chambers Second Edition of Great Humble Lords and Paladins of Power Title and Glory for the Sake of Nothing Useful at All Whatsoever Yet Complete and Total Pwnage Under No Master but Themselves and the Good of the Land of Testicular VII or Sometimes a High Bidder Needless To Say They Completely Pwn Beyond All Measure Except Immeasurable Measure Unless Of Course If It Has Measure Naturally Twice And Then A Second Time Anyway They Still Really Pwn A Whole Lot Majorly I’ll Say Poo, or SHCCSEGHLPPTGSNUAWYCTPUNMTGLTVIISHBNTSTCPBAMEIMUOCIIHMNTATASTATSRPAWLMISP for short, to find a hero without abs.

Mr. Jones,” the elf began, “we require someone without abs to assist our cause in bringing down the French government of Testicular XII and a half.” “I was just on my way to Chevys,” Protested Mr. Jones. “Regrettably your quest begins now, Mr. Jones.” The elf continued undeterred. “Let us be on our way.” Before Mr. Jones could argue further, he found himself in a brief point of grey light and then he found
himself standing without abs in a field of purple brown grass that could only be described as long and rather hairy. Next he noticed the sky was green and all that was in the field was a giant, curly, hair that extended for quite some distance. Finally, Mr. Jones realized there was no sun or any other source of light. “You’ll notice Mr. Jones,” the elf’s voice seemed almost inside Mr. Jones head “You cannot find your voice when you attempt to articulate a sound. That is because in this world of Eroti Ca anyone who doesn’t have abs also is prevented from making a sound because all sound and light on this world is controlled by mana that requires abs tofunction. “It’s just as well that we’re in this situation of you being silent. Anyone who speaks louder than level .09 speech will be arrested by the Eroti Ca Security Force and believe me, you don’t want to be in trouble with those guys and their huge not sterilized nightsticks that they may use for things other than beating people with. “Needless to say Mr. Jones,” The elf concluded “We need to headsoutheast west to reach the warp gate to Erectus Prime where we
will wind transport to Testicular VII.”

The elf turned ninety degrees and headed in the direction the giant curly hair, which after they walked towards for several hours Mr. Jones realized that the giant curly hair didn’t seem to be getting any larger. “Mr. Jones,” The elf narrated “the reason that hair is not getting any larger is that it is actually only four inches tall but somehow its image is unscientifically being projected to be quite larger
than it actually is and appears to be the same size no matter where on Eroti Ca you happen to stand. We suspect that this is the case for as long as the most powerful being on our side does not have abs.” As they continued they fell into a silence so deep that it seemed there was a similarity to the deepness of Jared’s Gramma. The sky appeared to shake and the ground seemed almost as if it were mumbling something along the lines of beware Jared’s Gramma. Clouds rapidly formed and it began to pour rain and there stood a slender, petite old decrepit gramma-like
shadow. “Mr. Jones, you need to show your abs free stomach to Jared’s Gramma in order to take down her life points down by forty each time you strike.” The elf whispered hoarsely. It’s funny if you think about the beginning of the word hoarsely for a little bit (kinda like someone you may or may not know usually automatically affiliated with females but I personally know many males that qualify for this category) by which I mean one who is rather unclean in certain naughty aspects of their lives. “Remember one thing Mr. Jones,” the elf went on “after you do this
attack three times you have to wait for your mana to charge back up.”

Jared’s Gramma suddenly appeared lunging towards the elf with her claws extended outwards. She was a fearsome beast with an immense physique, long bushy snout and an almost feline head that rested on a neck with four Adams apples. On her shoulders, all the way down to her hands that were like talons and to her waist was a tattered vest colored light purple with a leopard like design. Below her waist was a dirty green colored skirt that ended just above her ankles that were covered in hair and her feet that were covered in silver scales. The elf managed to parry at the last instant but failed to inflict any damage. That was the moment when Jared’s Gramma decided to let lose a horrible roar. Fortunately at the same instant the elf the elf threw up a protective barrier preventing Jared’s Gramma from doing any real damage. Mr. Jones recovering from his shock managed to flash his abs or lack of abs to be more accurate causing Jared’s Gramma to rear in searing pain at the
loss of forty life points. Then the elf drew a dirk from his boot and hurled it in the direction of Jared’s Gramma catching her between the eyes and causing her to slow down. Unfortunately she wasn’t finished yet and she launched herself towards Mr. Jones like she had the force of a hurricane at her back. Mr. Jones however lifted his shirt again and Jared’s Gramma collapsed and convulsed until with one final death throe she rolled over and began to hiss. It was then Mr. Jones realized that Jared’s Gramma wasn’t hissing but smoke was rapidly emanating from her lifeless body. “We must leave, Mr. Jones.” The elf said in his almost soundless whisper. “There may be more Jared’s Grammas about and I don’t want to be around a moment longer.

Besides that, Jared’s Grammas burst into flames when they die so that their spirits can leave their bodies and once a fire starts the prairie hairs burn like crazy and the heat is incredible. Oh yeah and if its of any interest to you the Jared’s Grammas are not native to this world so these ones either escaped from captivity or were sent here by the French government of Testicular XII and a half.” Without another word the elf turned towards the direction they originally headed and began joggingtowards their destination. They had gone for about six miles when the elf suddenly stopped Mr. Jones almost plowing right into him but stopping himself in time since he was a bit better of a runner than most humans the elf knew. Slowly the elf turned around to speak directly to Mr. Jones because up ahead he spotted a hastily set up ambush behind an exceptionally large clump of hair and he feared the critters would detect even the slightest sound. Fear gave way to reason and he
knew if the critters didn’t know their exact position than there was a good chance they wouldn’t detect him now. “Hold still Mr. Jones.” The elf said, his whisper seeming to reverberate around the plains. “There is a group of creatures ahead known as critters. They are small but fearsome creatures, especially dangerous when they travel in herds.” Deciding to end his lesson, the elf crept forward on his stomach his heart pounding so loud that he feared the critters would hear. He drew his pistol and drew a bead on the nearest critter who was about sixteen meters
away between the eyes. Critters were beasts that could only be described as highly dangerous when faced in open combat but to the unwary eye they looked like cute little forest animals with long droopy ears and furry bunny like bodies that never even reached a meter in length and cutest of all were there sweet adorable little faces that were like the faces of raccoons. The elf being anything but untrained eased back on the trigger and was rewarded with a satisfying crack of his pistol and an almost simultaneous wet thwump as the round tore through the critters
flesh. As quickly as possible he downed two more of the little demons before the rest managed to scatter. The elf had counted seventeen of the
creaturs originally but because of his previous experience with them on Down There Minor he knew that meant nothing.
Last edited by my sugar at Sep 1, 2007,
It's really hard to read because of all the returns, but it was okay. The guy has a great vocabulary and makes a good writer, but this story sounds like you are trying to write for a video game rather a story someone would read.

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Warned for trolling!

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ooo yeah and chevy is my best friend and jarred is a kid we make fun of bcuz his grandma is hot to clear things up
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Before any
utterance of surprise could find its way out of Mr. Jones’s mouth, shock was replaced with a rather droll thought not backed by any abs of he great Lynn “No Abs” Jones. He would sit at his computer and fondle his guitar w
course for standing before him was an elf dressed in a hot brown tunic and dirty white boots with a longbow strapped across his back and
wearing sword in his belt and a .50 caliber pistol in a holster on his arm.

It's so descriptive, and that elf has so many weapons it's hilarious

That's great. He should finish.
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