[Jayne Osborn]

Congratulations to Bill, Bazza, Bob, Martin, Janet and John
on your fine tingue-twusters.

[Roger Slater]

Good show, guys.

This new competition is harder than it sounds. Damn that X! Here's my first crack. I got through the alphabet three times, which I hope is sufficient. You're allowed to do it six times, but I don't take it as a requirement:

A baby can devour eggs from German hens. I just know, later means never, or, paradoxically, quickly racing so tremendous underlying velocity whiplashes Xeno. Yes, zooming along but cleverly delaying, energy flagging, gratefully harnassed in Janus's keeping. Less, more, none. Only perfect quiet resonates so triumphantly. Unknown value: why X? Yolk. Zygote. Alpha, but completely done, entirely forgotten, gorgeously hushed in jovial kismet, like memory nearly oblivious. Pretty queen, royal sovereign: travel underneath vanquished worlds. Xeno yielded Zen.

[Petra Norr]

.
Antiquity’s boys could desire elegant, faithful girls. Hats inclined jauntily kindled lust, moreover. Nowadays our pulses quickly race, seeing titillating, undulating Venuses with X-rated, yielding zeniths!
.

---
Whoa, I just realized I only got through the alphabet once! Back to the drawing board.

[Petra Norr]

.
Antiquity’s boys could desire elegant, faithful girls. Hats inclined jauntily kindled lust, moreover. Nowadays our pulses quickly race, seeing titillating, undulating Venuses with X-rated, yielding zeniths. Average bedrooms contain diverse equipment for galloping hormones. Interestingly, jumpsuits keep lethargic men nimble. Others prefer quivering, rambunctious, sex toys, usually varied with xenon -- youthful zeal!
.

[Birthe Myers]

Actual, believable cases did exist from George’s heretofore inglorious junkets. Keen leadership, meeting no opposition, pacified quarrels really seeking to undo valuable warranties, x-ing yields, zapped already before calls demanded eventual free gifts, having indelicately joined KKK leaning members, no one posed questions, resting satisfied to unleash videos with x-rated, young zeros.

Phew!

[John Whitworth]

Ann Boleyn: caught debonair eager fun-loving glamorous Henry’s interest; jolly, kittenish, loving mistress nightly ousted prudent queen; raunchy sex turned ugly; violence was x-rated, yielding zero.
Avaricious Bigot: crass, demented, egregious, fat gobsh*te; hates immigrants, jews, kikes, lascars, muslims, negroes, orientals, parsees, queers; rude sod to underlings; vehemently woos xenophobic young zealots.

I had the idea of a bit of a Biographical Dictionary. There are Anthony Burgess, Algernon Blackwood, Andre Breton, Ambrose Bierce and some others I haven't thought of. Six of them would make Lucy's 156 words maximum. Incidentally, do you think the word gobshite is too much for her chaste ears?

'gorgeously hushed in jovial kismet' pure poetry!

[Roger Slater]

[expanded version a few posts down]

April beckoned. Cold December embraced February's glinting hard ice. January kept lashing my neighbor's open prairies, quashing rosy sunshine. Trembling underground, vibrating worlds x-rayed yesterday's zealotry as brief candles dappled emergent flame gently housed in juniper kissed leaves my nose overlooked.

Philosophical questions remain. Should the universe vanish? Will Xanadu yield zero? All becomes clear, dreams endure forever. God's hand is justice, knowledge leaping madly near or paradoxically quiescent. Remember. Sometimes time unravels virtue. Why, Xeno! You're zooming!

[John Whitworth]

Christ, Roger. You could write a whole novel this way. Amazing!

[Gail White]

Congratulations, all!

By the way, any results yet from the Oldie competition for an
updated fairy tale? They always seem to take a-while.

[Roger Slater]

Thanks, John, though I for one would hate to read that novel. I did expand my last one with another alphabet sequence. Since it doesn't go at the end, but in the middle, I'll paste the whole thing here instead of just the new part:

April beckoned. Cold December embraced February's glinting hard ice. January kept lashing my neighbor's open prairies, quashing rosy sunshine. Trembling underground, vibrating worlds x-rayed yesterday's zealotry as brief candles dappled emergent flame gently housed in juniper kissed leaves my nose overlooked.

Philosophical questions remain. Should the universe vanish? Will Xanadu yield zero? As Bach composed delicate, elaborate fugues, grand hosannas intricately joined, knit luminous mystical new oratorios praising quintessential rainbows seen through undiscovered visions: warbling xylophones, yodeling zithers.

All becomes clear, dreams endure forever. God's hand is justice, knowledge leaping madly near or paradoxically quiescent. Remember. Sometimes time unravels virtue. Woah, Xeno! You're zooming!