Tuesday's With Mr. Oldman by Hattable!

Hey Scribblets! Today is Tuesday which means we feature a work submitted by one of you ^_^ Awesome right? Well today we feature the YWSer, Hattable and his short story, Mr. Oldman! 

Mr. Oldman
by Hattable

“Sir, might I ask what in heaven's name you're doing?” The shopkeeper stared, bewildered, at the unusual man who had just entered his little shop, climbed atop the first checkout lane's conveyor belt, and was currently strolling along it. 

“No.” the man replied through his large scruffy mustache, keeping stride and twitching his nose. His hands were gloved in leather, the left of which tightly clutched a gold-tipped walking stick. Around the man's torso was a sharp-looking tweed suit and brown trousers hugged his legs, ending with brown dress shoes at his feet. If one were to glance above his fuzzy silver eyebrows and up to his head, they'd find a neat brown fedora sitting in a mess of curly gray hair.

“Sir, I'm afraid you can't do that here,” the shopkeeper replied, bemused. The man froze, sticking his cane between the sensors at the end of the conveyor belt, causing its continuous rolling to come to a halt. 

“Oh?” he questioned, turning his owlish eyes upon the shopkeeper and blinking slowly from behind his big round spectacles. “Would the next lane be more appropriate, then?” he asked, pointing his cane at the lane to his left. The conveyor belt continued rolling and the man began his walking again.
“N-no, sir. No no no, you can't be walking on any of these conveyor belts.” the shopkeeper stated, fumbling with his own glasses as he readjusted them on his ears. His hands quickly wandered down to his shiny nameplate, which they also adjusted before returning to their limp state at the shopkeeper's sides. 

The man raised an eyebrow and stepped between the sensors, freezing the belt once again.
“And why not?” he asked.

“B-because, sir. It's against the rules,” the shopkeeper explained.
“What rules?”

“The shop rules, sir.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I'd quite like to see these rules for myself,” the man said. “Do they happen to lie within a book? Are they in your head?” He raised his cane and poked at the shopkeeper's mop of curly auburn hair. The shopkeeper stepped back in an attempt to avoid the stick, but found himself with it tangled in his hair. He sighed and set his hands to work on getting it out.

“Sir, that's quite enough,” he said. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What? How come?” the man asked, pulling his cane away harshly, ripping it from its hairy trap. The shopkeeper rubbed his head, giving the man and irritated glare.

“Because, sir, you're disregarding store rules. And if you touch me with your cane again I'll be forced to call the authorities.” Reaching up to grab hold of the man's arm, the shopkeeper attempted to lower him from the conveyor belt.

“Call the authorities?” the man exclaimed. “Bah! What, you can't take a poke to the head?” He waved his cane around, swinging it by the shopkeeper's head several times.

“Sir, please get down from the counter.”

“I won't be told what to do in my town!” the man swung his cane once more, this time catching the shopkeeper full in the face and knocking him to the floor. “I won't!”

* * *

“Please, officer, I can explain,” the man pleaded as the plump, bearded police officer handcuffed him and lead him to the black and white car outside. The shopkeeper watched from inside, through the glass doors, as the man was tossed into the back seat. 

“There'll be enough time for explainin' downtown, sir,” the police officer responded, slamming the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat. As the vehicle pulled away from the front of the store and across the parking lot, heading down the avenue beyond, the shopkeeper held a pack of ice to his nose and sighed. They really needed to up the security at the nursing home.


Awesome story right? Silly old people walking on conveyor belts! What's the craziest thing your grandparent has done (or any older person you know)? Comment below! 

Have a story or poem to submit? Click here! 

Be sure to submit a Shout-out or Question for Friday and to tune back here Thursday for the fandom battle! 

Also, we are on Twitter and Instagram now! You all have no excuses to not subscribe or follow us on something, we are on EVERYTHING now! 

See ya Thursday!


Astorian Tales Part 1

Hey guys! Welcomes to the first full week of Scribbles returning! First of tons to come, right? ;) As we've said, Monday's will feature a serial (a story posted chapter by chapter, once a week) and unlike the old Scribbles, this time you the readers get to vote on the outcome of the story. Each week! So if you like dragons, fantasy, magic, assassins, ship battles, and more, sit back, grab a cup of coffee, or tea, or just your imagination, and let's get this going!

- - - - - 

 Week 1

The sleek black craft glided on the tumultuous waves, tossed to and fro, but never plunging beneath the writhing waters. The rain slapped against the ink black sails and mast of the boat. Though not visible through the thrashing water, wind, and rain, the cliffs of Dalen rose starkly to the heavens, somewhere up ahead. The boat’s captain fought against the wheel, keeping a steady, oblique course towards the shore, as his crew scurried about, keeping ropes tied and sails taut.
Below deck, amid the heaving and rolling, a man tied a waterproof bundle. He had stripped down to his trousers. He pulled the cinch tight on his equipment, strapped it to his back with a leather belt, then headed to the deck, steadying himself with his arms. The freezing rain stung his bare torso. He grimaced and made his way to the captain. The intensity of the storm cut communication to the bare minimum and so the man simply pointed in the direction where he knew the cliffs lay. The captain nodded.
Now, as the cliffs came into view as dark silhouettes with no distinguishable shape, the man carefully made his way to the edge of the boat and grasped the railing. The captain waved his hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, the man propelled himself over the edge of the boat. His body plunged beneath the ice-cold water, then he pushed himself to the surface, gasping and spluttering at the dramatic change of temperature. Then, once he found the cliffs in the hazy sky, he began to swim toward them with broad, powerful strokes.
The waves dragged him back and forth, helping his endeavor one moment, undoing it the next. At last, he came within view of a small beach, protected by jagged sea rocks. An undercurrent swept him below and he fought to regain the surface. He swallowed water as he went down, and came back up coughing and choking. The waves tossed him towards the razor-sharp rocks, but he managed to grab ahold of one. The sea tugged at his feet every which way, but he held on, grunting in exertion. Then, as a particular wave crashed inland, he used the momentum to pull himself atop the rock.
For several minutes the man laid on his back, regaining his breath. When he pushed himself up he surveyed what route he might take to get to the beach. The waves thundered against the sea rocks for another hundred feet before splaying out into a small pool that lapped at the sand.  Now he had a choice. He could both hop from rock to rock, and hope to make it to shore without getting knocked back into the frigid sea, or he could wait till dawn, which by his calculations would be no more than two hours, by which time the storm should have subsided. 

- - - - - 

Now comes the most exciting part of today! 
As the reader it is now your chance to choose which route the man takes. Either:
A.) Quickly hop from rock to rock, or
B.) Wait until dawn and carefully make his way to the beach  
Let us know in the comments below!

Thank you so much for reading today's edition of Scribbles! Be sure to subscribe either by Facebook - Click me!, Instagram - Click Me Too!, Twitter - #ClickME, YWS - la la l- oh. MEEE!!, and/or Bloglovin - ME! ME! , to stay in touch with us and see what's coming every day!
See you tomorrow


We're Back!

Hey Scribblets! Happy New Year! And Welcome back to Scribbles! This time we bring you a bigger and better Scribbles!

So we've been gone for a few months, and yes, we've missed you too. And in that time we used the time normally dedicated to Scribbles post-writing and upkeep to master kung-fu and became fluent in Yiddish. Ok, maybe not, but at least we're back now! ^_^ Sarah DID learn a new language during that time though, ASL! But she is not yet fluent XP

And a special warm welcome to all our new followers from Facebook, Bloglovin, Young Writers Society, and people who were introduced to Scribbles or stumbled upon it on chance! We're glad you're all here! :D

So here's Scribbles new features: 

- It looks like a fancy website (shout out to Heather and anyone else Sarah got help from for making this possible!) 
- Better mobile support at last! (Again, many thanks to everyone who helped Sarah with the coding!)
- We have an unofficial app thanks to Bloglovin!
- Awesome new color scheme
- New banner 
- A fancy drop down menu 
- Cute little icons that link you to our social media handles 
- Better social media "in-post" sharing support 
- We are now a "https" site, meaning Scribbles is now secure and better encrypted

Shout out to all the people who made the new and improved Scribbles possible! And especially to our fans, because Scribbles wouldn't exist without you guys! <3

What's our schedule, you ask? Is it the same? Is it different? Well, see for yourself:

Monday's: Malachi writes this awesome weekly serial about whatever you guys vote for! That's right, you decide what happens in the story! To read all of Beasts of Astoria (the story we started for this year) click these links: Part 1 or Part 2.

Tuesday's: Your chance to submit YOUR OWN WORK! Cool right? You can submit a poem or short story, or even both! Featured works are posted in the order they are submitted. To submit a work or short story, click here.

Thursday's: Fandom Thursday! Every week Malachi and Sarah have an "epic rap battle of history" type thing to see who's fandom is better. The best part? YOU GET TO VOTE! The winning fandom is announced every following Thursday so be sure to come back!

Friday's: Send in a shout out or submit a question for us to answer! Every week we'll answer your questions and share your shout-outs with the world! And yes, the shout-outs are a very new thing for us! For more information on shout-outs click here.

What are our social media handles? Well we are on Facebook, Bloglovin, Young Writers Society, and Google+!

And if you think that's all we have in store for you, it's not! Much more exciting new things are going to happening here on Scribbles, so be sure to subscribe to us!

See ya Monday! Have a great weekend!


Return Date Announcement! (And What Happened To The Guy In The Forest?)

We're here again! Scribbles has finally gotten down a return date, and none too soon. We know you're all dying to see when we'll be returning, but, there's first this little matter of a man fighting a beast in a jungle. So let's get back to that, shall we! And if you stick around till the end, there may be a certain string of numbers you've been waiting for! Now the ending voted by you the fans by a score of 60 to 40!

The man swiped like a madman, slicing the beast’s soft underbelly. It sprang back on its haunches with a screech, flaring its nostrils and pawing the ground. A bright flash in the trees caught its attention, giving the man enough time to stand and run the opposite direction. Just when the beast was about to give chase, an emerald arrow pierced its neck in between the scaly skin. The best staggered, then collapsed.

The man stopped when he heard the heavy thud. He saw the dead beast, saw the shaft buried in its body. What he didn’t see was the arrow zipping towards his chest. It threw him to the ground, and his entire body lit up with pain. A single cry emerged from his throat, and the tears flowed freely down his cheeks. The color drained from his face and he lost feeling. His body was giving up. His eyes closed and his heart stopped.
The unseen archer soon was at the side of the fallen man. He snatched a leather satchel that the fleeing man had dropped in the conflict.

“You never escape the Emerald. Never.”
There it is! It was a close vote, but letter B won, showing that you wanted to see the man get away, or at the least, see a good action scene! And as a result you met a member of the Emerald! The Emerald is an organization that you will see in upcoming posts when we begin "Beasts of Astoria", the choice voted on Facebook! 

And now, the moment you've been waiting for:

That's right folks! We're coming back on New Years! Now you have an even more legitimate reason to stay up to 3 or 4am! (EST time that is) 

See you on New Years! 


We're Almost Back!

Hey! Scribbleteers, what is up? It's been a long time since we've seen each other! And while we are not quite ready to re-launch, (the day is drawing closer though) we want to give you a taste of what is coming, and to show our appreciation for your patience with us. :) The following story is an example of what our Monday's will be like. A chapter will be written, and then, based on your choice, the next week it will continue in the direction you want. So without further introduction:

The forest was enshrouded in a fine mist. The rain had kept up through the night, taking turns pouring in huge downfalls, then subsiding to nothing more than a light drizzle. Now, as morning dawned, the sun fought with all its might to fight through the dense blanket of clouds and spread warmth on the earth, and specifically on the dark forest running along the high cliffs of Astoria.