“Sergeant First Class Mike Lancer, we need to get the heck out of this heckhole and quick!” Private First Class Pablo Sanchez said, causing the rugged platoon leader to turn himself around just in the nick of time to see the articulate Mexican-American soldier get himself fatally shot in the head with a 7.62 mm NATO bullet fired from who knows where.
One of my biggest challenges on the Dope is reading many of these charmers and not stealing them and submitting them as my own entries. You folks are very, very, bad.
I’ll see if I can come up with a big ol’ steaming turd…I mean…entry of my own. I just new a few hours to sit on it. 
I like…and not overly long.
They also recommend less than 60 words, so that is what I tried to do
Just as an aside, there is a town in British Columbia named Lytton, it is in the Fraser Canyon, it is hotter than the hinges of hell there all summer long - truthfully, JUST as hot as the hinges of hell - and yes, it IS named Lytton for Bulwer-Lytton. I guess the Founding Fathers of Lytton thought Bulwer-Lytton was too much of a jawbreaker.
BoyoJim, I admire the Bulwer-Lytton prizewinner with more adoration that I admire Jane Austen. Well. Maybe not quite that much, but pretty close.
A lot, anyway.
Okay, not that much, but quite a bit.
Here’s another I just sent in:
Lord Derrick Lemay’s aristocratic lips curled in a wanton sneer of desire; this was one serving wench who would not escape the hydrogen bomb blast of his masculine urges!
ROTFLMAO
It’s a slow afternoon at work.
When you’re a private dick you smell lots of things, but only once or twice have I ever smelled a smell as ominous as the smell I smelled that fateful afternoon in June.
Margo chuckled at the elderly woman in queue ahead of her, whose pendulous breasts oscillated not so much in a Galileo-in-the-Cathedral-of-Pisa pioneering the new physics sort of way, but more of a taunting wig-wag railroad signal “I never saw this coming!” manner, to herself.
A lot of these are way too good to win. I would read most of these stories.
I finally got around to trying my hand at this, and decided to go (somewhat) classical:
I like my science soft and my women hard, so I wasn’t entirely displeased when she suddenly flourished her four electro-probes and struck the mating posture, her seductive bare forelegs rustling chitonously.
It wasn’t a bad day until Emily accidentally let Jesus into her heart.
I mentioned a while back that I had an entry percolating in a dank place. Well, here it is - hold your noses:
Inexorably – inasmuch as anything done by even a thoroughbred racing snail could be called “inexorable” – Xerxes – he and his son Darius were quite feared in the racing circuits (although Xerxes I of Persia was the son of Darius I, and they were not hermaphrodites) – began – while it may be difficult, due to the sluggishness of snails (conqueror’s names notwithstanding), for the layperson to perceive the precise moment between action and inaction, the expert can pluck this moment out from amidst its neighbors, as an osprey plucks a fish from a rocky stream – to move.
So much genius collected in such a small place.
Makes me feel good all over.
Three more attempts.
“Captain to the bridge!” shrieked the intercom to the crews puzzlement since
the ship had only one room and the entire crew was there playing Hearts and
wondering why there was an intercom.
I seldom visit my hometown anymore, since it’s small and dull, but I found myself
there a few weeks ago and was bored.
The rain slowly collected in the eavestrough, as it almost always does
during a storm, while the sun rose behind clouds that prevented anybody
from seeing it.
The house was as haunted as it was a Frank Lloyd Wright–which is to say, not at all.
Bob, whose welted, red striped buttocks were glowing like a living flame from the exertions of the pudgy little dominatrix, considered saying “Thanks for the spanks”, as a merry aside for a job well done, but hesitated as possibly this would be seen as unprofessional and dismissive of her labored breathing, and the snaking rivulets of sweat circumnavigating the little roll of fat poking out from beneath her studded leather bustier.
Ronald began his Monday by compiling the inventory status report of the previous week. He understood how the information he reported on office supply usage in his department would be combined with similar information about similar usage in other departments and that that collated information would be studied to determine office supply usage trends over time and the financial well-being of the company would benefit. Ronald was quietly proud to be doing his part.
Tell me you’d be able to put that book down.
Unfortunately the rules mandate a single sentence. Change a couple of verb tenses and throw in some semicolons or dashes and you’ll be on track.
Okay, I got an acknowledgment for one of my submissions but not the other two. How about you all?