Recently, I tried out a new writing website! It generates ideas for you to incorporate into your writing. The result, while a little over the place, was very entertaining and I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy!
You’d think that when you won the lottery, you’d spend the money on something grand. Something that truly wowed, something magnificent. Maybe you’d do something nice for your parents, maybe you’d treat yourself…Max bought a chicken. Just one. Not even a fancy chicken- to compete in shows or to eat. Just a chicken. And his reasoning? “I wanted a friend!”.
I finally convinced him the chicken wasn’t the best idea and he should buy something else with the money. He bought a cat. A cute one, sure, but a cat. I did not see how this would help us in our investigation. Ms. Emme had hired us to figure out who had been behind the airplane crash that had killed her youngest daughter. And so, I’d advised Max, pretty wisely, I would say, to buy something to help us figure out who did it. Maybe save some money to bribe some corrupt officers, you know what I mean? Instead he bought a cat. And a chicken. I can’t forget the chicken.
He said he’d “try to do right by me” today. I’m hoping he’ll use the money for information, for something that’ll help us take at least one step in the right direction.
…There’s a knock at the door. It better be Max with the information.
I’m back. It was not, in fact, Max with the information. It was Max with a random guy. A cameraman, for heaven’s sake. We don’t need a cameraman. And we definitely don’t need the eggs that the chicken’s been laying all over the place. I walked in this morning and there was one in my hat. My nicest one, too, fit with feathers and fabric.
Some may call it drastic, but Max’s delusions and unorthodox behavior have gone on too long. It’s time for some revenge.
First. I’ll steal the money. There’s still around 10 million left. That’s enough for me to buy a new office, snoop around, and have tons of money left over.
Then, I’ll get this company off the ground. We’ve been a small private investigative company for too long and with this money, anyone would respect us.
Finally, I’ll buy a better fan for this office. Well. I guess that goes with buying a new office. But, seriously. Who rents a space with no fan? Max, that’s who. We’ve been surviving with paper fans. Paper. fans.
Maybe I’d give some money to Max too. He was my best friend, after all. He never really enjoyed being an investigator. He’d probably become a DJ. He’d be good, too. Or maybe a blacksmith, though maybe that job interest was just a passing fascination.
And that’s how much I wrote in 10 minutes! I definitely enjoyed this exercise.