Write the worst opening line you can think of

"Death to America!" Mohammed shouted as the plane crashed into the tower

You sound awfully sure about that.

Someone left the cap open, there's only bitter sediment at the bottom.

I woke up with a kind of strange feeling in my mouth, a feeling of a shaft fastly entering and touching the back of my throat, this, of course, turned out to be my boyfriend Tyrone trying to face rape me again, the silly man.

>Write the worst opening line you can think of

Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: /pol/ was right again.

Women: of course, I could explain the mystery to you, but then there would be no urge for you to go out there and be the best man you think they want (but they actually don't), and I tried to tell you all of this because you were my younger brother, but because you were my younger brother you didn't listen again; so I'll tell the world instead.

Her skin was like the finest cream, her eyes like a cats and she purred, and she was the moon orbiting my world.

When all was said and done, I guess you could say the adventure had been worthwhile, but try telling that to my friends along the way (pet dragon and sexy woman sidekick) and you'd be met with smoking nostrils and a quirky, lovable scowl.

I've been on so many wars by now they are basically like dinner parties: And you better believe, dear reader, my elbows are on the table.

>all these guys posting the legit first lines of their novels

I was born in a small village off the coast of Myilanhara, a small fishing town that didn't even have enough people to warrant town guards - it was a peaceful place, but not for long.

There they found I, working on my latest thesis that the world's foremost scholars of science looked forward to so enthusiastically, in my laboratory; "the president it counting on you" they reminded me before, and I knew very well how the lives of so many depended on me - but I could handle it; in the present, I addressed them with a smirk "what took you so long?"

Gregor Samsa arose one day to find he had been transformed into a giant cockroach...

:)

On my tombstone they engraved the simple, yet truthful phrase: "saviour of mankind," which I read with a bemused grin, thinking that they were stupid to believe in such lofty ideals when the real hero had just been a man's knowledge of the blade... But, as usual, I'm getting ahead of myself.

As unbelievable as they seem, I must assure you, if you now hold this book, in your hands, that the events, that I am about to unfold to you, are nothing but the absolute truth.

Another bright great day in America billowed through my window and shone its majestic light on to my roused, aquiline face, where I had just slipped peacefully out of a dream in which I had indeed accomplished that which I knew I would succeed in doing - delivering the research paper on achieving happiness and independent self-sufficiency that would redefine the intellectual stamina of my faculty's reputation and prowess - and so I yawned intellectually and went downstairs to pour myself a patriotic bowl of Lucky Charms, and looking outside the window and seeing the cow and three sheep out in the field past my backyard, I sighed knowingly that this privileged day would be the day where Sarah would would finally see in me the master that I really am.

It was the first rain of the Year of the Frog; sweet and warm, a spring-rain pregnant with rusty pollen, nourishing - not only to plants but souls too, a cleaning shower of woumb-like cadence, an air of Virginal Purity, tears of Mary; and the oddest part was: it rained red.

He knew that Quantum theory was obviously the key to getting into any girls pants that he could ever desire, however when donald trump and hillary had the abortion theu forgot one thing. Obama.

Our young protagonist began his today like every other day--by sighing and lighting a cigarette.

This would work for YA or normies.

They always said "every dog has his day," but I never thought that would mean having his way with my wife.

Hi it's me the author of this screenplay.... wait *checks watch* O shit! This is a novel, haha.

...

See the cakes; smell the yellow cakes of the pan and taste the yellow golden rivers streaming across the cakes--
Thank the mom.

Life was fucking shit and only i realized it, i looked pedestrians having fun infront of me and laughed at them being such sheep enjoying their little pathetic existence

There are stories that end nicely with the good guy getting the girl and everyone living happily ever after, irregardless, this is not one of those stories

Kek

unironically sub-par but not terrible

If you wante'd a good book, a fulfilling book about completed character arcs and personal development... I'm your man.

underrated kek

>Unironically using "sub-par"
>Unironically claiming to know whether he was being ironic.

She left a note made out of refrigerator magnets informing me that she was leaving a never coming back; and if I wouldn't mind feeding the dog while she was away.

The human brain is the most fascinating concept ever conceived.

They said i should "be myself" only problem is that "me" doesn't exist

As I held my cock and balls I whispered gently that I wouldn't burn the palace - so why didn't I?

you made me audibly laugh

This could be in a Mel Brooks war movie based on Apocalypse Now and Saving Private Ryan. This is so fucking good

>that pic

I hope this doesn't awaken something in me.

"Liberals?" chortled Merriam-Webster audibly, "yes i used to believe in people once too, before, before..." suddenly he was back in 2015 his member throbbing, his pants, discarded.

I'm just a normal ten year old girl - well, I'm also trans, but that doesn't make me any less normal.

I woke up to a loud crash that resounded throughout the house like a meteor made out of pancakes had burst forth from some primordial plane and found within its power to crash through my house of all houses and the brimstone the fiery brimstone of crashing sparked a deep want for the same fiery caramel color of fresh baked pancakes with golden syrup to find it within its power to crash into my mouth while I express a clear want and longing nay obsession with wanting a golden retriever to crash into my house instead: and the crash in my house made a crashing sound in my head that made a crash in my heart for lack of a syrupy pancake retriever.

It was Friday the thirteenth, the night before Halloween

As such, thus was the is - for that is what it does and did and will have done...

top kek

While the weather and storm of it all fortified and our eroded cheeks traveled the dry desert of lust we discovered our fortified hunger for sun-drenched sweetness ever growing in those hot sun-blazing hours as in the stormy nights where we used to sleep in the freezing nights of october sun.

Okay, very well, I shall tell you my story; but first you must imagine my cock and balls.

I unironically like it.

He wallowed in and cooed like a waif in the street all whilst clutching his cock and balls diligently.

kek

This is my manifesto, the truth of it is subjective

A broken car on the side of the road; a beauty in white revealed in frustration; duty-bound to help by obligation; and in my massive testicles swirled a hot load - this was going to be the best spring break ever.

I always knew when the age of my father; he was more old than me.

The End

you are probably wondering how i ended up in this situation

Lmao

My oh my, my cockiness and ballsy take on life has once more landed me in the adventure of a life time - you're invited too, y'know?

"Cucked again!?!", I screamed; Shauna crossed the line this time.

...

POOPYASS

Only one enemy remained; two if you counted God.

He shuddered in painful delight as he forced his own cock into his asshole and filled himself with his own warm pee, and in that moment he truly understood every aphorism and wise quotation about finding your own way in life and not wanting for anyone else to make your life worth it

I love the idea of a book beginning with this sentence.

"Checkmate," I said.

Ah, there she is: the famine, growing a hole in my stomach as the smoke from holy grass fills up my lungs.

My daddy brothed at the mouth while I sat on his face screaming ree through my pussy flappers

If this is from your actual novel (which it undoubtedly is), throw it in a fire now.

"Just turn my ass inside out with your dog dick, Larry," he began, "Its the only way."

Actually hilarious

It wasn't like I wanted it to come to this happenstance, but rather that, through the lineage of my life's experience, I was unceasingly pushed, like a nail to the hammer of circumstance - BANG BANG BANG - into the wall of depression that makes up my current existence.

"So––you want to hear the story of the faeries?" Grandpaw prattled to the Ken of Hinterfolk one autumnal evening 'neath the crepuscular sunset, golden as a gold doubloon.

Fucking awful. Solid 9/10.

So bad you shouldn't have even uttered it desu. My life is significantly worse off, now that you have posted this.

It was a day like any other-but it was the night that was remarkable, because I was struck by lightning (figuratively, of course, the literal lightning comes later)

It was a wet, wintery morning, and Emma's brown eyes glistened in the dew.

There was a man who stood alone and gazed at the world forlornly, then walked along the street with his hands in his pockets, staring at the dirt in the gutters because his whole world was a gutter.

I wake up from a dream. A long dream. I can see by the end of the book that my Mexican girlfriend dies, and the ending of this story is a tragedy.

Terrible and god damn hilarious

Eh. Trying to hard.

Uhhhhhh

Not shitty, really, though meh prose.

Lol

Yeah yeah yeah, just stop.

Truly an unrelenting torrent of shit. One of the best ITT

"Your mother will die in her sleep tonight if you don't reply to this post."

fuckin underrated

I walked left then right, looked up and down, gazed long into the void, while the void was a black darkness I tried to avoid; in short, I tried to avoid the void, by walking left then right, looking up and down, gazing long into the void; for there is nothing more than the void and I must avoid it at all costs, or else I will hang myself, or turn to the razor and bleed, because nobody cares in this whole wide world except those who have seen what I have seen, the void, the deep black impenetrable night of monsters and dark things that cry alone; also, I enjoy golf, because, frankly, nothing soothes my mind more than balls.

This isn't so bad, really. With work it could be quite nice. 2/10
Reading this makes me hate you. gj 9/10
I hate the concept of you. 8/10
Fucking disgusting stuff
9/10
Pretty bad. But a bit too on-the-nose
5/10
A bit memey.
6/10
Jesus fucking christ. Misleading syntax. Overwritten. Shit metaphors. Nonsense. Recycling of bland motifs
10/10
Boring as shit
6/10
The potential for this line to actually say something substantial prevents it from being irredeemable
4/10
what
8/10
made me laugh
8/10
too much decent characterization of a potentially real character to be total shit.
Otherwise, "diligently" ruins a lot of what could have made it good, bumping it from a 2 to a 5/10
Fucking relativist. I hate relativists
Therefore I give this 8/10
but that's subjective
pathetic
7/10
poor 6/10
kek
N/A
bad, but memey
4/10
sexually frustrated 16 y.o. pynchon
6/10
pretty bad
but cuck meme
5/10
shit meme
no bonus points
0/10
19 y.o. /b/tard herman hesse
8/10
it's okay
5/10
dude
7/10
gross and dumb
if i saw this in a published book i would kill myself
7.5/10
weak and pathetic fatalism/10
YA money grab/10
not even sure i finished reading that sentence
8/10
is my heart supposed to swoon or something?
7.5/10
actually not bad, leaving it at a 1/10 -- until "his whole world was a gutter". It ruins everything.
6/10
so meta so dumb
8/10
fucking weebs
It started off redeemable. But got worse. And worse. Got even worse after that. I hate this. 9/10

top fucking kek

The Following Summer, we met again, in that hot air of the desert, a paradise for love, and it was surely going to get hotter.

>frankly, nothing soothes my mind more than balls.

My pained groans were only a show to disguise my inner numbness; numb like the twin icecubes that she was pressing on me were making my nipples - sex with Emma Stone used to be exciting, and she pushed my boundaries; now she still has her fun (I can almost see something of her old youth in her when she swings that whip), but I haven't been able to care about anything since the accident - really, it's hard to say if I'm still LOVING EMMA.

I call this book LOVING EMMA

Renowned curator Jacques Sauniére staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum's grand gallery.

...

[This comes from a real self-published book.]

Eight inches, that's all she wanted, maybe with a brain.

They were twins, with two nipples between them.