Snypiuer

Vibs is actively seeking counseling and Snypiuers' luck is running. And I mean RUN-NING. Once I figure out where to start . . . well . . . we'll see.🥴😵🤯

Please log off at the end of your shift And, your monitor, fully power it down The glow of the screen And electrical hum Makes a hostile workplace, We have found. The demon that lives in your cubicle . . . Of which you were unaware Makes constant HR complaints, And threats of lawsuits, So its presence We now share. No need for concern that it lives there Or to know the reason why Just be mindful that when you leave Be sure to log off, fully power down And if you see the demon DON'T look it in the eye. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NEXT LINE: Gently, gently as the shadows grow

Are you thinking of publishing it?

Snypiuer has been busy. How, pray tell - you ask. Well, Snypiuer had accumulated over 4,000 unread emails. So - you respond. Snypiuer also has OCD. Guess what Snypiuer HAS to do with unread emails. Delete them - you ask. No. READ them, ALL - you ask, incredulously. Each and every one. WHY - you ask in disbelief. Because, what if there is something IMPORTANT in one? You stare at Snypiuer. Snypiuer stares back until it becomes uncomfortable, then asks: You know how you lock a door and then you check it to make sure it really IS locked, then you recheck it to make sure you didn't accidently UNLOCK it when you checked to make sure it really IS locked, then you check it AGAIN, just in case you accidently unlocked it when you checked to see if you accidently unlocked it when you checked to make sure it really IS locked, THEN you unlock it and relock it to make sure that the lock actually still works, then you check it to make sure it really IS locked . . . You see where Snypiuer is going with this? Now . . . What if there was something IMPORTANT in one of those emails!?

SOUP

Snypiuer. Is. ALIVE!!! Yes . . . yes, I know, yes . . . no, no, celebratory human sacrifices, while warranted, are not necessary, calm down . . . yes . . . yes, you're right, it IS more than a miracle . . . yes, beyond any and all explanation . . . precisely . . . transcends medical, scientific, theological, metaphysical, philosophical and theoretical knowledge and thought . . . true, true, Snypiuers ability, by sheer will alone, to survive an illness that the most omnipotent of Gods would have swiftly perished from, WILL be discussed and venerated by beings, natural and artificial, for countless eons to come . . . O.K., if you must, go ahead and contact everyone you know to inform them of the joyous news . . . I'll wait. INTERLUDE: No idea how to upload music to listen to while we wait, so imagine, if you will, Chuck Mangione performing elevator-type, soft, laid-backed smooth jazz versions of: Blister in the Sun by Violent Femmes Lexicon Devil by The Germs Du Hast by Rammstein Mexican Radio by Wall of Voodoo Belly of the Whale by Burning Sensations Paranoid by Black Sabbath O.K., we're back. Yes, Snypiuer is alive, and it is a glorious day, but that's not what we're here for. No, but before we get to what we are here for, thanks for the soup and ice cream! Now . . . how to say this as . . . tactfully, as possible . . . hmmm . . . it has come to Snypiuers' attention that individuals in his . . . IMMEDIATE vicinity . . . well . . . shall we say . . . they did not . . . FULLY appreciate the very, VERY dire state which he found himself in. No. No, they did not. Was hot soup lovingly spoon fed to him in his weakened state? Was soothing ice cream? No. Not a spoonful, not a scoop. What did happen? Well, I'll give you one example and leave it at that. This interaction took place between Snypiuer, his niece and her mom (Snypiuers' little sister): Niece: *Looking at Snypiuer face down on the floor* How long have you been there? Snypiuer: Oh . . . a while. Niece: Why? Snypiuer: Need soup. And ice cream. This is as far as I got. Niece: Why are you on the floor? Snypiuer: I'm dying. Niece: No, you're not. Snypiuer: Uh-huh. Niece: Nope. Snypiuer: You're not a doctor. You don't know. Niece: You're NOT dying. Snypiuer: My heads all achy. Niece: *Stares at Snypiuer* Snypiuer: And my throat's all scratchy. *cough* Niece: *Continues staring* Snypiuer: My nose and chest are all snuffly. Niece: *Stares* Snypiuer: My tum-tum is all bubbly. Niece: *Stares* Snypiuer: *Looks back at her* Niece: That all? Snypiuer: No. Niece: Well? Snypiuer: My left butt cheek itches. Niece: So? Snypiuer: I'm too weak to scratch it. Niece: *Glares at Snypiuer* Snypiuer: *Looks at her with wide, pleading eyes* Niece: *Tilts head and gives him a "Don't say it!" look* Snypiuer: *Looks back with wider, more pleading eyes and trembling lower lip* Niece: *Tilts head more, glares harder and gives and even firmer "DON'T SAY IT!" look* Snypiuer: Scratch my butt. Niece: ARGHHH!!! *Walks away in disgust/exasperation* Snypiuer: *Contemplates the floor, then . . . weakly* Soup. INTERLUDE: O.K., I can hear all of you, "HOW DID YOU GET ON THE FLOOR!?" That has no bearing, what-so-ever, on this narrative. Was it funny? Yes. Hilarious in fact. Would you have laughed? Ohhh-yeah, you would DEFINITELY have laughed . . . uncontrollably . . . for, like, a LONG time. In fact, had it happened to . . . ANYONE else, let's say a 108-year-old, frail, blind woman with brittle bone disease, would Snypiuer have laughed? Yes. Yes, he would have. It was THAT funny. He would have laughed so hard, he would have wet himself, then fall to the ground in convulsions of hysterical laughter, crawled over to the old lady to, not only, laugh in her face, but to explain in excruciatingly minute detail, EXACTLY how she fell and why it was so funny. Because, you know . . . blind. It was that funny. BUT it has nothing to do with this story AND it did happen to Snypiuer, so we shall all feel bad and say, "awww" and give each other comforting hugs. Niece: *Returns with skateboard, holds by the wheels at one end and uses the other end to scratch Snypiuer* Snypiuer: More towards the hip, thank you. Sister: *Walks in* Is he alive? Niece: Yes. Sister: Why is he on the floor. Niece: He needs soup. Snypiuer: And ice cream. Niece: This is as far as he got. Sister: Why is he ON the floor!? Niece: He's dying. Sister: Oh . . . What are you doing? Niece: Scratching his butt. Sister: Why? Niece: He's too weak to do it himself. Sister: But WHY!? Niece: So that he leaves me his stuff when he dies. *Stops scratching* I do get your stuff, right? Snypiuer: All my stuffs are belongs to you. Niece: You heard him, all mine *goes to put skateboard away* Sister: He doesn't have anything. Niece: *From other room* He has SOME stuff. Sister: What he does have, we're tossing in the hole with him. Niece: *Comes back* He said it's all mine, I'll keep what I want, and you can toss the rest. Sister: Whatever, you ready? Niece: Yeah. Sister: Hey, if you make it to the kitchen, make enough soup for us, we'll be back later. Niece: Bye, love you! Snypiuer: *Listens as they leave, then . . . weakly* . . . soup. We're just going to leave it there and move on.

Snypiuer no feel good . . . most likely dying . . . yes, most definitely going to die . . . soon . . . need soup. and ice cream.

Not sure how to do it, but how about AI? I saw a video where they just told it what they want, and it made it. Maybe say: What would they Monopoly Mans skull look like? With a top hat. With an eyepatch that has a dollar sign on it. What would a pirate flag with this image look like? With walking sticks instead of crossbones. That MIGHT work, I don't know. Just an idea!

Should the skull look like the Monopoly Man . . . without skin . . . or muscle?

I really WANT to try it; I just can't get anyone to take the time. I also don't have a Cheaters edition. I DO have a Stranger Things edition! Just looking at what you've put forth here, it LOOKS playable, but we all know that the play is in the playing. Can't find anything about pitching to Hasbro, but I did find several make your own-OPOLY games you could use to make your own version. Also, there are several Pennites who make/publish their own games and books, one of them MIGHT know how to pitch it. I did see that most variants are by USAOPOLY, but it looks like they just rename properties and change images, not sure if they are the ones to contact about a change like yours. I'll let you know if I do find anything or get the chance to playtest! I BELIEVE that the copyrights are for images and names and BASIC board design: the game rules are generic to game play (if I'm not mistaken), change board shape (Octogon?) number of spaces, names, images, etc. and you don't violate copyright - I THINK!

OHHH, MANY a Snypiuer hater exists! BACKGROUND INFO: O.K., for those who don't know or have forgotten, Snypiuer has an older brother, a little sister and a baby sister. Don't let the titles fool you, Snypiuer's BABY sister has a 20-year-old daughter, experimental test subject num . . . wait, Snypiuer is no longer allowed to refer to his nieces and nephews as "test subjects", not to mention he's no longer allowed to USE them as test subjects, SCIENCE SUFFERS WHEN SHORT-SIGHTEDNESS AND IGNORANCE FLOURISH! Anyways, his brother has 3 kids; a boy and girl (both with kids of their own, a couple who have kids of THEIR own) a few years apart and then another girl around 10-years or so younger, she is the squeaky little things mom, and she also has a teenage son. Snypiuer's little sister has a son who has 2 boys around 6 and 3. His little sister ALSO has an 11-year-old daughter (SNYPIUERS' BESTEST BUDDY EVER!!!) - yeah 2 kids, 26 years apart! ANYWAYS! Snypiuer's bestest buddy ever (the 11-year-old) has a cousin (a girl) on her father's side who is several years older. Snypiuer first met her when he ran into her and her mom at Wally World a few weeks after she was born: Snypiuer: Is that the baby? Mom: Yes. Snypiuer: *Walks around cart to look at baby* Hey there, whatchya . . . Baby: *Stares at Snypiuer with a look that can only be described as a burning hatred, seething with the open desire to VIOLENTLY and BRUTALLY beat him to death . . . repeatedly* Snypiuer has NO idea why this child hates him, but it was instant and deep, as if their souls have been intertwined over countless lifetimes and Snypiuer had been so cruel to her in each and every one, that the visceral hatred she has for him is imprinted, not only, in her DNA, but in the very core of her being. Snypiuer: *To baby's mom* Umm, why does your baby want to kill me? Mom: What!? Snypiuer: Yeah, your child DEFINITELY wants to murder me . . . like, a LOT! Mom: What are you talking about!!? Snypiuer: Your . . . child . . . wants . . . to . . . kill . . . me. LOOK! Mom: *Walks around cart to check on baby* What do you mean? She doesn't wa . . . *sees the way the baby is staring at Snypiuer* OH MY GOD! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BABY!? Now, this IS Wally World. People EVERYWHERE! So Snypiuer IMMEDIATELY turns into John "Bluto" Blutarsky attempting to sneak a horse into Dean Wormer's office and extradites himself from the immediate vicinity of said child and mother. This child has Never cried when Snypiuer's around. She has NEVER shown ANY fear around Snypiuer. She has ONLY shown a disdain and DEEEEEEP "unlike" of Snypiuer who, by-the-way, has been NOTHING but nice and friendly to this child EVERY SINGLE TIME they have come in contact! To THIS day, she avoids being around Snypiuer and has NEVER explained to anyone the basis for her aversion to Snypiuer! Well, that's one example. Someday, Snypiuer will explain how EVERY female in Snypiuer's life comes to the conclusion that they need to beat him. Snypiuer has no idea why, they just do.

Sounds fun! Are you planning to make actual physical cards? How about a pdf of the cards, alternate spaces, rules, etc. to download and modify our own boards and playtest?

Precisely what I hoped The Nursery would be for! I like to see what different directions an idea can go in depending on the writers' viewpoint.

O.K., instead of both sides seeing the other frozen, the C-Bomb breaks time. What those on the outside see is the last instant before the side that was trapped is ripped from the time stream and sent forward in time to a moment where everyone lives in peace and harmony with plenty for everyone and what THEY see is a blur that scientist soon discover is the "outside" speeding by - like that scene in H. G. Wells' The Time Machine where the Time Traveller watches the world outside his machine speed by as he travels through time. Someday the outside will catch up to the "trapped" side and they will "re-sync", but when? Will the outside see the trapped side start to move as they approach synchronicity? Will the trapped side see the outside slow down? When they do catch up, will they actually be in the same "place"? Will the outside have bettered itself to the same degree as the trapped side or will they have become even more divided, consumed with a jealous rage brought on by their desire to enter the trapped area in order to regain their lost senses? What happens then when they re-sync? I don't know if I can actually flesh anything out, but you've got me thinking - IMMA GIVE YOU A BADGE! AND POINTS! why? because I can.

O.K., I see this as a Rapture type event, those "trapped" are actually living in peace and prosperity and see those outside as frozen, to remind THEM of what happened.

It gives me the feeling of someone who ran away, fled even, from some situation or unwanted existence and is searching for some sort of safety or stability or imagined fantasy life or maybe an addict or mentally ill person.

Can't wait! Now that you mention it, it does remind me of the Tim Allen movies, just sinister rather than heartwarming.

Premise: Being Santa is a curse. Every year, on December 24, a new person awakes, as Santa at the North Pole. Carolers are creepy, evil, automaton-like creatures that follow and watch Santa, non-stop, 24-hours a day. Elves are jailers/torturers keeping Santa captive and working. Santa is forced to read and reread a list of every child on Earth that enumerates every single good and/or misdeed each, individual, child has committed in the year. Santa then has to decide, based on a child's good and/or misdeeds, whether the child should be labeled as naughty or nice. Santa is also forced to read every letter to Santa for that year and fill out every present's gift tag accordingly. Santa is forced to deliver all the presents while being exposed to every possible weather condition. Not to mention every other big or little "Christmas Duty" expected of Santa. It is only one day and night, 24 hours, that a victim is forced to be Santa but, while at the North Pole and while delivering presents, time in the outside world virtually stands still - Depending on the Santa, it could take decades, even centuries, to complete everything. Also, since time only VIRTUALLY stands still, the elves are task masters, relentlessly driving the Santa, in order to ensure each and every task is fulfilled. Santa isn't allowed ANY rest and the only food and drink there is, is milk, cookies and candy canes. Woe to anyone unable to complete Santa's duties, even more so for any Santa attempting to escape said duties. Finally, this year, December 24, you awake, as Santa at the North Pole . . . carolers stand outside your window, singing . . . watching.

Snypiuer has a new niece, well, she's 5 and she's Snypiuer's nieces' daughter and he's only seen her a few times, but he's already her favorite! She's a tiny, squeaky little thing. When Snypiuer picks her up, his thumbs and fingers touch. She loves to lift his beard and hide under it, she screams, "THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING!" and Snypiuer screams back, "THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING!" - Snypiuer is of the firm belief that ALL children should be raised believing that EVERY conversation should be as loud as possible! O.K., so yesterday, far too many relatives were visiting and Snypiuer sees his new niece and she runs over to him: Snypiuer: "WHY DIDN'T ANYBODY TELL ME YOU WERE HERE!?" Niece: "I DON'T KNOW!" (by the way, the ENTIRE conversation, she's giggling and has her hands clenched in front of her chest and randomly bending and twisting about.) Snypiuer: "WHERE HAVE YOU'VE BEEN!?" Niece: "AT HOME!" Snypiuer: "WHY DON'T YOU COME TO SEE ME MORE!?" Niece: "I DON'T KNOW!" Snypiuer: "IT'S BEEN LIKE THIRTY YEARS SINCE YOU WERE HERE!" Niece: "NAH-AH!" Snypiuer: "YEAH-HAH! HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU HAVE NOW!?" Niece: "I DON'T HAVE KIDS! I'M A LITTLE GIRL!" Snypiuer: "HOW!? YOU'RE, LIKE, FIFTY YEARS OLD NOW!" Niece: "I'M FIVE!" Snypiuer: "HOW ARE YOU JUST FIVE!? IT'S BEEN, LIKE, 90 YEARS SINCE YOU WERE HERE! WHERE DO YOU WORK!?" Niece: "I DON'T WORK! I'M A LITTLE GIRL!" Snypiuer: "HOW DO YOU PAY YOUR BILLS!?" Niece: "I DON'T KNOW!" Snypiuer: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? YOU'RE, LIKE, 250 YEARS OLD! YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW!" Niece: "I'M FIVE!" Snypiuer: "WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO VISIT ME AGAIN!?" Niece: "I DON'T KNOW!" Snypiuer: "WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE!?" Niece: "I DON'T KNOW!" Snypiuer: "LAST TIME YOU WERE HERE, YOU WERE THIS TALL!" (places his hand around her knee level.) Niece: "NO!" Snypiuer: "YES! NOW YOU'RE THIS TALL!" (places hand on her head and smushes her down a bit.) Niece: "AHHH!!!" Snypiuer: "NEXT TIME YOU VISIT, YOU'LL BE THIS TALL!" (picks her up over his head, close to the ceiling.) Niece: "AHHH!!!" Snypiuer: (gives her as tight a hug as he can without hurting her and she immediately lifts his beard and puts it over her head.) "WHY ARE YOU SO HUGGABLE!?" Niece: "I DON'T KNOW!" (from beneath his beard.) Snypiuer: "WANT TO GO PLAY WITH THE OTHER KIDS NOW!?" Niece: "YES!" Snypiuer: "O.K. THEN, YOU COME TELL ME IF YOU NEED ANYTHING, O.K.!?" Niece: "O.K.!" She gave Snypiuer a hug and took off to play. That was just the first conversation, the others went, pretty much, the same, with a lot of giggles, absurd questions/statements and more "I DON'T KNOW!'s" then I can count.

I have three titles that I keep thinking about, a trilogy that might be the start of a series or three related poems, I don't know. They are: No Running in the Halls of Reality No Horsing Around in the Halls of Reality Only Designated Personnel Allowed in the Corridors of Reality I keep thinking about them in that order; for some reason it feels like it HAS to be in THAT order. I also don't know if it's about technology, magic, psychological, a combination of them . . . no idea.

Anyone can leave an idea here for others to take and make their own. An idea can be something as simple as a title or description, fragments of a work, a brief outline or a synopsis - anything that can be used as a basis for inspiration. An idea can be used by as many people as are inspired by it; in any way they are inspired. When inspired by an idea, post your work in the proper forum with a brief acknowledgement as to the source of the inspiration. Most of all, HAVE FUN!!!

Hmmm . . . looks like I need to start that Nursery.

Something, either, about fairies being FAR bigger than one would think or that elephants are MUCH smaller? Or; Somewhere things are just . . . better.

WOW!!! I've been reading this for 10 years, I didn't even realize it's been this long! WAIT . . . Harmony has a kid EVERY OTHER YEAR! Quick, when was the last one!? Oh yeah, DEFINITELY do more with this, perhaps a novella or short story for an anthology if not a full-blown book. We're ALWAYS here to be a sounding board for you or anyone else who needs us.

Snypiuer wonders why he's suddenly sitting in front of a giant toad and only wearing an EXTREMELY skimpy golden bikini!?