For example:
After a fitful sleep I woke up to find my shoulders stuck to a floor and my ankles tied with nylon cord to a chandelier. In a minute or two I heard a loud stereo system playing Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.” In my hands was a large telephone and I had a very clear–and unpleasant–idea where the cord was attached…"
How about:
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
Or this:
`Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,’ grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.
`It’s so dreadful to be poor!’ sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.
`I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,’ added little Amy, with an injured sniff.
`We’ve got father and mother and each other,’ said Beth, contentedly, from her corner.
I’d say those are pretty bad, if the novels they led to were any judge 
Raphael awoke in a strange bathroom to find his asshole covered in hemp seeds and his mouth crusted over with vanilla pudding.
“Holy Shit! Whats with the seeds in my ass!” Ralph shouted.
And the rest is a story to be told by a better writer than me.
It was a humid night…
Laura pinched the spongy tip of cylindrical paper coiled around densely packed cotton fibers. The long white rod extended from between her two enameled pinschers, each painted with a thick glossy coat of dark voluptuous red. She pulled one end of the rotund protuberence to her puckered lips, fixing her eyes at a distance on nothing in particular. Suddenly, there was a flash of light before her eyes, a spark like tiny fireworks, and in their wake a seductive flame, a blue and yellow wraith of energy dancing like a glowing snake, weaving to and fro, charmed by the gentle breeze from her nostrils. She sucked air through the barrel trapped in her fingertips until the ghostly light tipped its head toward her, igniting a halo of incandescence that emanated from the calefaction just inches away. Breathing deeply, she pulled her head away from the tempestuous fire as it disappeared as quickly as it came. A thick fog of gray particulate matter billowed out of her mouth and hovered around her head, dissipating slowly into a sheer white pellucid vapor.
“Thank you,” she demured quietly.
Late this past Saturday night the doorbell rang, and there stood my blind date …Mike Tyson.
“I am a mighty and powerful wizard!” intoned the white-bearded old man in the long, flowing robes.
“Yeah,” I sneered, “and monkeys will fly out my butt!”
What happened next is too horrible to talk about.
How about:
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Announcement: Don’t falsely attribute quotes to other SDMB members Ed Zotti
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And it all goes downhill from there…trust me…
“My name is Pauley Shore and this is my story.”
Bill was having sex with a dead octopus at K-Mart…
How about the beginning to this story poking fun at teeny boppers? We were bored.
Hey! It’s Lil’ Bit, here, peace in
Ok, so I want to tell you about the totaly cool adventure me and my phat friends had when we went to see NSync! We saw Justin!!! OMG!!
So like, we stole, uh, borrowed my dad’s car, which sort of had him ticked since none of my Phat friends nor I are like old enough to drive or something. He can be a real stick in the mud like that. But after we borrowed the car, we stopped at the store and bought some NSync gum, can you believe they put those hot boys’ pics on gum? They were selling some flowers, but there were none of those orgasm flowers people used to talk about.
Oh, I totally forgot to tell you why we were going to see N*sync, besides hearing the cool music. One of my phat friends wanted to met Justin because she…
Read more of this really lame story on the interactive stories board. Join and you could even add to it 
http://pub45.ezboard.com/finteractivestories18786frm1.showMessage?topicID=43.topic
Man, that’s a great start for a story, I don’t see why you’d post it to this thread for “worst” story openings. Really moving…I’ve gotta light one up after that.
Knowing that everything would turn out well in the end, the clairvoyant embarked anyway on what he knew would become his fourteenth greatest adventures.
There on the nightstand was his ever present journal, suggested by his therapist. He already knew it would lead to no breakthrough, but he gamely continued to chronicle his life.
Monday…
"I awake again at 7:20am, a full 10 minutes before my alarm will go off.
“There won’t be enough milk for my coffee AND cereal. Why must I start every day with difficult choices.”
"Catbox needs emptying.
“Must do laundry today!”
Then turning to a new page in the journal he wrote, “Must find thesaurus today!!! Check under couch cushions.”
This journal was turning into a mere list of things to do like the last one.
“Stop writing things to do!” he wrote before heading down the hall.
He set the journal on the bathroom sink as he made his way to the toilet.
Looking down, he grabbed the journal and wrote, “Buy T.P.!!!”
with the pencil point breaking under the pressure of the last exclamation point.
“Damn.” he said, just as he noticed a book resting on the toilet tank.
He tried to erase the thesaurus entry, but only succeeded in marking it with a series of black smudges.
He knew things would go downhill from here.
Bea Arthur was naked in bed next to me.
The dark rain flowed darkly from the dark clouds under a dark sky.
“Finally, it’s all over,” I muttered to myself darkly, lowering the darkly smoking pistol and kicking Mark’s darkened corpse into the dark shadows.
The darkness of the night darkened the darkness of my soul’s darkening darkosity. I decided, darkly, to dispose of Mark’s darkened body.
Gripping Mark’s mass by his dark coat, I moved the mess through the murky muck of the dark dreck on the dock, then dropped Mark on the black track with a smack.
Mimicking Mark’s mawkish mewling, I mouthed “Mock me not, Mac. Mark’s dark mark started in the park, but the dark part of his heart is now a lost art.”
With a dark boot placed over Mark’s darkened face, I rolled Mark into the murky dark miasma of the dock’s underparts. “Let the morays mince his meat to mulch,” I murmured darkly.
I turned from the dark water under the dark dock towards the dark strand of dark sand on the darkened darking darkdark. Dark dark dark, dark dark. “Dark dark dark.” I darked.
It was getting dark.
Ladies and gentlemen, the hands down winner.
Waves of dizziness washed over me, and if I’d had my normal expensive lunch, it would be all over my uniform by now. But those are the risks you accept when you sign on with Professor Ganglon’s crew. The years rolled back in a psychedelic vomitous smear before my eyes and when the steady sun of a finished timeskip hurled its bloodshot and sickening light over me, I knew the ride was over.
I instinctively ducked into an alley, safe from view, my boots sliding lightly over someone’s regurgitated night spent clubbing. That was New York for you. My Timeguide confirmed it: yes, September 11, 2001, a mere 150 years back this time. I looked around and muttered my observations for my Record-a-Muse. “Partly cloudy,” I observed. There, that should fill in a gap in the historical record. I hit the “Return” button and rode another sickening roller-coaster back to TimeBase, my entrails churning and twisting like hurricane-swept lawn funiture. This mission was over, but I had no idea what was about to begin.
My name’s Chuck Upward. I’m a TimeForce officer.
“Great. The lizards are back.”
His nostril hairs wafted gently in and out, in cadence with his breathing.