Las Vegas Alphabet Game

This will sound extremely confusing, but once people start doing it, it'll be clearer. This was an assignment in my writing class and I loved it. :)

The prompt: You are driving with your wife/husband from or to Las Vegas. You make up the story. It can be as long or short as you'd like. You do NOT have to continue another person's piece. In fact, it would work better if you didn't.

The rules:
1.) The first person has letter A (and so on...repeat if letters run out.)

2.) Your general pro

The example: (The legit one I turned in.) :)

My name is Elaine. My husband's name is Earl. We are from Europe. And our car is full of euphemisms.


Earl and I were lost. Not just in the way that everybody is lost, but we were driving in a foreign country without a map.

“Elaine, honey, I have to go to the restroom,” Earl said.

“Dammit. Call a toilet a toilet. Why do you call it a restroom? You think you’re going to rest in there? I thought not.”

He grew quiet.

We really had no idea where we were going. We had no itinerary. We were driving for the sake of driving. We were originally visiting from London, in Europe, but we kind of got lost in America, so we missed our flight back home.

Now, we’re stuck in a huge country without jobs driving from nowhere to nowhere.

“This looks like a good place to stop,” I said and Earl pulled into a motel. It was dingy, but it had to do for one night.

There weren’t any other cars, which was a bad sign for business, but at least there wouldn’t be any wars against parking spaces. We chose one right near the office- just in case.

“Hi, may I help you?” the receptionist asked. She was young and gorgeous, a striking difference from the outside of this pigsty. I suppose she didn’t know we were married because she ignored me and flipped her curly amber hair in attempts to be noticed.

“We’re looking for a room to stay in for the night,” I stepped in. Enough was enough. Besides, she looked twelve.

“5B. You’ll have to provide some information. Names, current employer, current address, things like that,” the receptionist said.

Earl and I stole furtive glances at each other.

“My wife and I,  well, we’re between jobs and structurally challenged,” Earl said in his mousy voice.

I gave him the look. He knew it well too. It was my “Are you completely insane?” look.

“Excuse my husband. What he meant to say was that we’re homeless without jobs. Damn euphemisms.”

“Okay, well, that will pose a problem. See, we can’t issue you out a room unless we have some information,” she said.

“Look, we’re from London. We can give you our address from there, but we’re just visiting the States,” I said, hoping she would break.

She sighed. “Okay. 5B it is then. Checkout is at 10 AM. No exceptions.”

Our room was only five doors away, so we walked carrying our suitcases. I opened the door and dropped the suitcase on my toe.

“Earl, look at this place,” I said.

“It’s…it’s cozy,” he said.

“Cozy? Cozy?! You call this cozy? My idea of cozy is sitting around a fireplace on an elegant couch under a throw blanket. This, Earl, is the opposite of cozy. This is a shoebox, a hole in the wall, a closet.”

“I get it, but it has to do.”

“Well, then at least call it as it is,” I muttered.

Too tired to unpack for one night, I crawled into bed, turned the television on, and curled up with the pillow. Earl, on the other hand, proceeded to brush his teeth, strip to his boxers- his nightly routine. I just jump right into bed and hope everything will work out for the better.

The only channel that wasn’t snow was the news, so I settled on that better than nothing. Earl and I reversed places and I went to brush my teeth.

“Hey, hon,” he said.


“Someone passed away at that convenience store we were just at an hour ago.”

“No,” I said.

“It’s on the news right now. There are helicopters and police cars swarming the area. Someone was taken hostage and was a causality,” he recited.

“Again, no,” I said, my expression not changing.

“What?” He finally looked up at me.

“You mean to tell me that someone was taken hostage and blown away to bits at the store?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“What then?”

“They just passed away, okay?”

“No. They died. Did they have a heart attack or were they shot to death?”

“Jeez, what is with you today? You’re everywhere with the insults.”

“I’m just taking it how it is. You’re the one saying everything.”

“Nobody was ‘blown to bits’ or whatever you said. They were shot. They passed aw- they died.  They do not exist any longer. Are you happy?”

His face was beet red from anger; and mine was white with fear.

“No,” I whispered.


“My Aunt Milly was the one who passed,” I said.



Okay, begin with the letter A. :)

The End

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