Short Story Generator

Before we left on our road trip, I was looking for a list of writing prompts to bring along, stuck in my notebook. So, I searched google. And for some weird reason, this came up: Short Story Generator

That sounded to good to not try out, so I bookmarked the page and came back after I found my prompts. I went through, filled out all the forms, read my story and laughed so hard I cried and everyone asked what was so funny.

It was kind of hard to just tuck away this little generator after that.

We’ve made countless stories on it since then, most of them not mine. But, I’ve decided to share just a few of the best.


I present to you, “The Burnt to a Crisp Spanking Stick”.


The Burnt to a Crisp Spanking Stick


Grab Bag had always hated paralyzed Disneyland with its manky, melodic mascots. It was a place where he felt bruising.

He was a fat, hungry, gutter water drinker with gamine eyebrows and slim scars. His friends saw him as a delicious, delightful dead cat. Once, he had even saved a tasty teddy bear lost at a train station that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was.

Grab walked over to the window and reflected on his the-happiest-place-on-earth surroundings. The tornado teased like boiling over killer whales.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Lunch Box. Lunch was a good pawn with tubby eyebrows and skinny scars.

Grab gulped. He was not prepared for Lunch.

As Grab stepped outside and Lunch came closer, he could see the magnificent glint in his eye.

“I am here because I want to go to the bathroom,” Lunch bellowed, in a handy tone. He slammed his fist against Grab’s chest, with the force of 3704 moths. “I frigging love you, Grab bag.”

Grab looked back, even more drowning and still fingering the burnt to a crisp spanking stick. “Lunch, Bucky . . .?” he replied.

They looked at each other with having a tantrum feelings, like two blue, breezy bumble bee bats throwing a fit at a very useful statue dedication, which had dirge music playing in the background and two useless uncles screeching to the beat.

Grab studied Lunch’s tubby eyebrows and skinny scars. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you to go to the bathroom,” he explained, in pitying tones.

Lunch looked woozy, his body raw like a stormy, successful side of beef.

Grab could actually hear Lunch’s body shatter into 3343 pieces. Then the a good pawn hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of gutter water would calm Grab’s nerves tonight.



I will stress the fact that this was not written by me. This was a generator. I don’t even know some of those adjectives.

And I don’t think I ever could have put that much emotion in that startling moment when Grab realizes that Lunch is Bucky. *hides face and laughs for a few minutes*


Another generator from the same site makes fantasy novel blurbs, and I couldn’t pass that up. So, here is the epic fantasy saga of Dan Sparkle.

And the generator is actually not really this ridiculous.

I just filled in everything wrong.

On purpose.


In a hole in the wall there lived a bratty, sweet mealworm named Dan Sparkle. Not a weird ugly, unfriendly hole in the wall, filled with strawberry stems and a helpless smell, nor yet a dead, disobedient, really sick hole in the wall with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a mealworm-hole in the wall, and that means disappointment.

One day, after a troubling visit from the shrew Annie Superhalk, Dan leaves his hole in the wall and sets out in search of three passed out shoelaces. A quest undertaken in the company of kangaroos, unicorns and fire-breathing opera singers.

In the search for the shrew-guarded shoelaces, Dan Sparkle surprises even himself with his stupidity and skill as a garbage man.

During his travels, Dan rescues an empty milk jug, an heirloom belonging to Annie. But when Annie refuses to try fainting, their friendship is over.

However, Annie is wounded at the Battle of Gettysburg and the two reconcile just before Dan engages in some serious fainting.

Dan accepts one of the three passed out shoelaces and returns home to his hole in the wall a very wealthy mealworm.


Okay! So who wants to read that book?

The lesson of this blog post: Just write your own stories. Seriously.

Here’s the link to the site so you can all create your own ridiculous stories: Plot Generator

And please comment!


9 thoughts on “Short Story Generator

  1. Is this for real?! 0_0
    Obi-Wan says he doesn’t get it. Neither does Horatio. Bucky, on the other hand, burst out laughing. (I think Obi-Wan is a type one along with Horatio and Steve.) Type Two gets the story. Thinks it’s hilarious, but Type One… situation humor. As opposed to Type Two and Three, who tell jokes. Type One’s sense of humor is mostly situational. πŸ˜›

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