Writing a supposed-to-be-funny story with
Linny ... 1 paragraph at a time. Journalists have to do this all the time, so why not to try it?
Francisco writing:
It was a hot sunny day and the stadium was empty, except for the two guys who woke there up after partying during the whole night and were still too drunk to walk, so they silently watched the game and from time to time shouted unintelligible sounds that nobody heard.
Now Juancho was in front of the ball, looking at the goalkeeper's eyes, twelve steps ahead of him. It was his opportunity to tie the score. He was the best player of the team but his experience in penalties was unfortunate. He still remembered what happened last year, when he was so nervous that he peed his pants, and after a general laughter he shooted and scored: the goalkeeper did not even react because he was still laughing at Juancho.
After thinking about it for a while he managed to forget about the shameful episode and took a deep breath, while all the other players were looking at him. Nobody knew what was about to happen.
Linny writing:
Juancho dried off a couple of sweat pearls from his forehead with the back of his hand. He always started sweating a lot when he was nervous. His hair looked fat and dirty after a failed attemt at shaping it as Ronaldo's, and his T-shirt was soaking wet.One of the drunk guys yelled something in a non-understandable language. Probably just drunk-ish. Juancho knew he had to concentrate, but he couldn't. The other players, the heat, the unicorn. Wait, what? He blinked. The goalkeeper was replaced by a unicorn. He felt dizzy."U-unicorn!" he screamed, and pointed a shaky finger at the creature eating the white painted grass at the goal line. Then it all disappeared. When he woke up, all he could see was faces. They were speaking, but he couldn't catch the words. "What happened to him?" a voice said. "Probably hyperthermia," another answered. He felt a wet rag on his sweaty forehead, and his mind became clearer. "Did we win?" he asked. The face closest to him, which must have been the referee's as he was clearly not in shape to play soccer, smiled sympathetically. "The game isn't over, but you're not playing more today, young man," he said.The other players helped him up, and the coach followed him to the dressing room. "You should take a shower. Roberto will replace you," he said.Juancho waited 'till the coach had left, then he sweared out loud. Why could he never ever get anything right? He picked up his cell phone from his bag. Maybe something there would cheer him up.
Francisco writing:
There were no new messages, so he just started to play Snake as a way to avoid thinking about his bad luck with penalties. The game was finishing in 15 minutes and his team was still losing. There was nothing he could do for his team, or there was? He took is T-shirt off and improvised a drum with a trash can and started singing and yelling like a crazy. The drunk guys didn't give a shit about the game, but joined him , so the three of them were jumping and yelling Ra-ra-ratones galácticos!! Then one of the unknown guys got so excited that he started running and yelling all over the stadium and nobody could stop him. He was moving so fast and suddenly he was in the field and running faster than any of the players he took the ball under his arm and jumped outside the stadium with it. There was no other ball to finish the game, so the referee, the players, and everyone had to run after him to get the ball back. The referee got tired after a few blocks, and one of the players had to put him on his back while they chased Manolín the fast, who didn't even know why he was running and with so many people following him. Then he looked back and saw that it was not just the people in the stadium chasing him, but half the town. He thought: "mhh I must be like Forrest Gump for them... so I can't stop running" so he went out of the town, while more and more people joined the crowd. While thinking all this Hollywood-like stuff he dropped the ball, a stray dog bit it and everyone came back to their houses dissapointed.
Linny writing:
One of the people going back to her house was Adriana. She was tall and pretty, but not in the shape for running. Her hair was dark brown and knitted in a ponytail and she had long, side swept bangs that always covered her eyes. The house smelled of paella. Her mother was one of those typical housewives who always cooked and cleaned like she'd never done anything else. She probably hadn't either for the past 20 years. Adriana ran up the blanket covered stairs to her room. It was a typical girl's room. Posters of shirtless celebrity men on the walls, lots of papers on the floors with unfinished drawings and poems. Adriana was very artistic. She practiced the violin and the guitar every single day. She picked up her cell phone. No new messages. She'd been waiting for Juan Pablo to contact her for two days now.
Francisco writing:
Juan Pablo played in Los ratones galacticos too and he used to be friends with Juancho, 'till one day he borrowed Juancho's bike and returned just the front wheel, promising he would help Juancho build a monocicle, which he never did. Now Juancho had another reason to hate JP, since he secretely loved Adriana while she barely noticed his existence: she only had eyes for JP. Juancho didn't even know what to do for her to notice him, so he wrote the most romantic letter one could ever imagine to her. The only problem was that the letter was anonimous and she thought JP had written it... so Juancho had to develop a new plan. He thought "if I had scored that penalty today I would have been a hero in this town and she would love me... so I really have to do something big and I'll get her love". He had heard that to get to someone's heart one must start getting to someone's belly, so he decided to cook the best pie ever for her. He spent all his savings in the best ingredients he could find and cooked "something big"... an enormous pie she wouldn't have been able to eat in a whole year. The plan had failed again.
El siguiente texto fue inspirado por un capítulo de Caso Cerrado, con la doctora Ana María Polo. Al narrarle por msn el caso a un amigo cercano, que casualmente vivía una situación similar a la del caso expuesto (no puedo poner su nombre porque anduvo pataleando... ) terminé narrando el caso casi completo, omitiendo sólo algunos detalles irrelevantes. El texto que aparece a continuación es lo mismo que escribí en msn y decidí rescatarlo en el blog, por lo que le falta afinar hartos detalles...
EL DEMANDADO: " yo ya soy mayor de edad.. puedo hacer lo que quiera"
