This is simple. One person starts the story, and whoever feels the urge writes the next bit. Only two rules, 1 - please keep it fairly clean, I don't know how many under-18s we get on here but I would like them to feel they can join in, and 2 - if you end a story, you start the next one. So, are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.
Once upon a time, in a shed, not very far away, sat Wesley. Wesley was a tinkerer, he always had been. There were very few things that Wesley couldn't take apart. On a good day, he could put them back together again. And on a very good day, they worked afterwards. Today, however, was not a good day. The Big Day was only two days away, and his last remaining means of transport had finally wheezed to a halt. He had been forced to ressurect the mighty 'Dunkley Whippet' after his faithful old Morris had cried enough, and now a small but evidently vital component of the little bike had joined it in blissful retirement. Strangely, the local HondaSuziWakiBakiAmaha mega-franchise didn't carry spares for a Dunkley Whippet, and he was certain that last time he had visited Spragforth and Sons Ltd (Purveyors of the finest motorised velocipedes to discerning gentlemen since 1912), he hadn't had to pay an admission charge just to gain access to the showroom. So, in the shed sat Wesley. He sighed, and frowned, which bunched his one eyebrow up in the middle so that from a distance it looked as though he had a hairy caterpillar sat on the bridge of his glasses, and stared into his nice, hot, cup of tea. And in this zen-like contemplative calm, Wesley had a brainwave...
wesleys brainwave was to get up off his but and take a walk , the only place wesley knew to walk was his local , where he bought a pitcher of beer and sixteen double whiskeys to have a good think about the problem , while drinking heavely decided to put some good music on the jukebox as all that was play was britney spears and spice girls after putting on some
he decided not to hang hims self but and laughed as the only sound he really heard was the sound of panting harley rides pushing there harleys but and realized there was some hope of him getting the bike going again a starts abouts repairing it by
who turned out to be oggy an fireblade who are secret harley lovers having been exposed as charletons an fearing a mass uprising decided to do a runner in the direction of the nearesrt boozer whereupon they got legless an spilled the beans to the landlord who new a man witha black handled knife an had a staffy for sale but who also knew how to get parts for any bike so.....
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