Stories

[MeAmCryzor]

Thanks to Loopy for this idea.

Basically this is a thread for us to post short stories that we have made up, be they made-up, from real-life or just plain stupid.

I will also be attempting to make up a new story each day and will be calling it my daily story (although it may soon become my weekly story)

Okay, here's My Daily Story 9/1/10 or 1/9/10

One day there was a lamppost. His name was Timmy. Now, Timmy was a very sad lamppost becuase he had no bulb. "Why do I have no bulb?" he wailed "Is it because I'm gay?" but no matter how loud he screamed, nobody responded to him because lampposts can't talk. One day a man came along. Timmy started moaning to the man, but the man walked on. Then a lady walked past and Timmy started to wail again but she walked past, disinterested. Finally a dog walked along and Timmy started to tell his tragic tale again. This time though, the dog stayed and looked at Timmy for ages, until Timmy was freaked out. Timmy finished his story and looked at the dog. The dog then proceeded to take a whizz on Timmy, crushing Timmy's hopes and dreams, so Timmy cried and oil dripped onto the dog until the dog changed colour from white to black. The dog then ran away. It turned out that the dog was owned by the government and soon a man came along and gave Timmy a new bulb. So, the moral of the story is, if something's wrong, moan and moan and moan and if you're lucky, the government will come along and fix it for you.
THE END

[loopy]

I have to do this idea. It probably wont be every day but i think i could do it often ;D

The questions is, new topic so we just give feedback in each one, or do we just (Lamp)post ours here and have all sorts going on. For now I'll (Lamp)post here ;D

Let me tell you a tale of advice!

Never, and i mean NEVER EVER, make too many plans for a partner. I planned to move out and be with her. I planned to spend the next year of my life just saving for when i moved and now it's pretty much all gone to s***. I should still have 400 quid by the end of February which i will probably keep saved and i will save because it's not all over. Basically, just don't plan too far ahead. Maybe plan a month or 2 depending on how serious your relationship is.

[Dogmantra]

Note that my idea of a "very short short story" spanned 2 A4 pages. Wrote it over the span of a day, so I guess it counts.

The results are below, if you'd like!

Proverbial Camels
“Did you ever think, Dr. Jones, that you were the only sane man in the world? I know I did. Oh, I thought that, then I realised: if there was to be only a single sane man in the world, why would it be me? I've been mad ever since, and I am enjoying it immensely.” Dr. Jones just stared as Mr. Smith rose from his seat and began to pace around.
“I can't say that I ever did feel like that.” Said Dr. Jones, “Although I did have a brief stint as a solipsist. With your reasoning, that would mean that I was not real.” Mr. Smith opened his mouth to speak. “Hold on,” said Dr. Jones, “I must write all of this down.”

The man, Mr. Smith, had entered just five minutes previously, sight unseen, and already Dr. Jones felt he knew everything there was to know about his new client. He had stood up as the door opened, offered drinks and a seat to his new guest, then extended his hand, just as a courteous host should. Mr. Smith threw him off balance slightly by, rather than accepting with a polite “thank you” and shaking his hand, offering to swap ties for a while. He would, Dr. Jones was assured, give it back, he just fancied a change. The young psychiatrist was starting to wonder whether he should have just taken the day off. He found himself wondering this several more times over the course of five minutes.

The meeting began with brief introductions. The emphasis here being on “brief”. Mr. Smith pointed to himself and said “Me: Smith. You?”
'Okay,' thought Dr. Jones, 'quite how he booked an appointment with me without knowing my name is beyond me, but it's best to not give it a second thought.'
“I'm Dr. William Jones.” said Dr. Jones, again attempting to shake hands, though this time it was rebutted by Mr. Smith standing on his head and insisting both hands were full. Dr. Jones decided he had to get rid of this client as quickly as possible. “So,” he said, “how can I help you today, Mr. Smith?”
“My life,” began Mr. Smith, letting himself down and standing normally again, “has been almost, but not quite perfect. I am afflicted, I believe, with a curse.”
“Your life has been almost perfect?” Asked Dr. Jones, surprised, “Then why are you seeking help? Furthermore, why from a psychiatrist as opposed to someone else?”
“I did say 'almost, but not quite' for a reason, Will, may I call you Will?”
“I'd rather you didn't.”
“Sure thing, Will...iam Jones, PhD. Oh, I had you there.” Mr. Smith's grin was almost as broad as the metaphorical broad side of the barn. Even more so, perhaps. “But Dr. Jones, I said 'almost' because it has been almost perfect. Never perfect. Everyone has the time where they do something perfectly, 100%, nothing to improve, A*, keep up the good work. Me? I've never had that. All my life, I've been plagued with a series of Nines out of Ten; Seven, Seven, Cherries; 5 numbers, no bonus balls.” He paused, “Shall I go on, or can you infer my meaning?”
“I think I can guess. You want help from me because you are upset at the fact you've never done anything perfectly?”
“Upset? How dare you insult me like that?”
“So this isn't a problem?” Asked Dr. Jones, confused.
“Of course it's a problem or I wouldn't be here. I want you to help fix my near-perfection. Let me be decidedly average if you must. Just let me do one thing absolutely flawlessly, and then I can fail miserably at everything else I ever do.”
“I may...” said Dr. Jones, “I may need some help.”
“Shall I start at the beginning, Dr. Jones, or would you rather I skipped the boring bits?”
“Mr. Smith, I assure you, when analysing a client, everything is important, and most definitely not boring.”
“Well okay, if you're sure...”

“It began nine months before I was bor-”
“Perhaps,” said Dr. Jones, “perhaps you should skip the boring part.”
“Well then, on to school. The first few years of my life were terrible boring. For the first year, I just stumbled around talking gibberish. Why, if I was in my right mind back then I should have thought to kill myself! Anyway, school was rather mediocre, I was a brilliantly bright student, and I won every prize ever. Follow so far? Of course you do. I got on well, but not perfectly, with everyone. Oh, I had the odd squabble, but doesn't everyone? Doesn't EVERYONE? Nope. No they don't. Some people never squabble with a certain friend or family member. Never ever. Not me, I tell you, and I'd know.” Mr. Smith leaned in close, cupped his hand over Dr. Jones's ear and whispered “I was there.” He resumed the story at normal volume, away from ears of any sort. “Straw number one!” He said, matter-of-factly, while Dr. Jones looked on confused, wondering where straws came into it. “Now, where was I? Oh of course. Straw number one. Excellent. I'm on target. Ahead, even. Would you like to call a drinks break? No, I can see from your face that you're too into this. We must press on. Straw number one occurred in primary school. How interesting, then, that straw number two took place in upper school? Very interesting, I assure you, Dr. Jones. I was an even brilliantly brighter student then, having had several years in which to become more bright. We had a test. I expected, as always, to get 9/10. I did. However, this test was so incredibly easy, that every single other person in the class got 10. Everyone else was better than I, but I was clearly better, hence the consistency. The test? 'Fill in the front of this exam paper correctly.' Yeah... we were practising for GCSEs. I failed miserably. Straw number two!”
“What do the-” Dr. Jones began, sighing as he realised that Mr. Smith would not let him speak, when he was interrupted again.
“Later life. Office job. Boring, but okay pay. I was the model employee. I never won employee of the month, and let me tell you why. All of my bills, all of my quotes, everything. One penny too short. I was fired because of that, actually. Straw number three.”
“Mr. Smith, if I may interrupt,”
“Go ahead, I've been waiting for you to say something.”
“Mr. Smith, may I ask what the straws are?”
“Did you ever think, Dr. Jones, that you were the only sane man in the world? I know I did. Oh, I thought that, then I realised: if there was to be only a single sane man in the world, why would it be me? I've been mad ever since, and I am enjoying it immensely.” Dr. Jones just stared as Mr. Smith rose from his seat and began to pace around.
“I can't say that I ever did feel like that.” Said Dr. Jones, “Although I did have a brief stint as a solipsist. With your reasoning, that would mean that I was not real.” Mr. Smith opened his mouth to speak. “Hold on,” said Dr. Jones, “I must write all of this down.”
Mr. Smith made his way towards the window, and spoke while staring out of it. “I am the proverbial camel, Dr. Jones. The final straw broke my back, but so did the first, and indeed every straw between the two. The straw in this case is my mind, in case you hadn't realised. I know now that I should have accepted it, and probably hit my head with a rock a couple of times to aid in the breaking of my mind.” Mr Smith began to open the window, and put one leg on the open frame when Dr. Jones stopped him.
“What on earth are you doing?” He exclaimed.
“Why, I'm jumping out of the window,” said Mr. Smith, “anything wrong with that?”
“Well...” stuttered Dr. Jones, “Well... yes! You can't just... why would you want to do that?”
“The world's going to end, Dr. Jones. We only have six billion years left. I intend to win.”
“Win? How?”
“By going on my own terms, Dr. Jones. It was nice to talk to you, and for that, I salute you very much so. Thankyee completely.” Mr. Smith saluted and jumped out of the window, just as Dr. Jones began to shout.
“But Mr. Smith!” He yelled, “Mr. Smith! This is a ground floor office!”
He heard a muffled voice, from the bushes below.
“I can't even kill myself properly. Straw number six, Dr. Jones.”

[yuurei]

Last Wednesday (Don't you say Wensday though?) I was at my private school and my class were down on a basketball court that we call the blacktop were playing sports/games (We do sports a bit after lunch) the chosen game was rainbow tag where you say a color or some other specific thing like "Everyone wearing Jeans" and then everyone wearing jeans would run from one end of the court to the other.

So i haven't moved in 3 call's or so and these two girls i know are the only people tagging. Everyone else is on the other side of the court and im all alone on my side. They decide to get me too move and say "Anyone who's name begins with S go!" Naturally i complain because of my asthema but i get up and begin to move.

I start to walk forward because i know ima get tagged seeing as it's 2 on 1. I'm about 7 feet away from one of the girls when i think "Wait... I can get out of this!" and i start to back up. The girl's move in and i'm still backing away from them toward the edge of the blacktop. My eye's are darting back and forth looking for a way through when i see my chance. I run forward and then switch the direction my hips are faceing so i'm running sideways, the girl's start to run at me and i go around on of them and get to the other side of the court with them yelling at eachother about how i got away.

It. Was. Epic. Also the way i finished that story really sucked....

Say "Your a nation" fast.

[loopy]

A Word Of Advice!

A guy once said "If you wish to concentrate well, stay up at night with some friends online and with the news on the tele. Give yourself stuff to do and you will do it"

That guy is cool. That guy is me ;D

[MeAmCryzor]

My Daily Story 10/1/10 or 1/10/10

This is a true story.

The other day, I decided to step outside the house to play in the snow, because here in England we have been hit by a snow storm and the entire country was put on hold for a bit. Anyways, I walked outside my front door to discover absolutely no-one out. Everyone had their lights off and everyone in our street was indoors. I noticed I could hear this whirring noise and turned around to see a helicopter poised in the air at one spot, just watching over our street. It had a searchlight on, but although the helicopter was positioned to view our street, the searchlight didn't hit the ground anywhere for some reason. I watched it for about 5 minutes and it didn't move from this one spot. I thought it might be my imagination, so I went inside and dragged my mum outside but when I went out again, there were two helicopters, just hovering, watching. Both with searchlights on and we watched for a good 10 minutes and then the searchlights turned on us focusing directly at us. The light was very intense and so we went inside and looked out of the window. The searchlights were shining over our front lawn, but nowhere else and they started flashing on and off, on and off, taking pictures of our house and our lawn, but no-one else's and nowhere else. They continued to do this for a good 20 minutes and then flew off. Never to be seen again.

Now this story is odd anyway, but to make it even stranger, the only flight vehicles in use in the county where I reside would be commercial aircraft or the police vehicles. Commercial aircraft, as everyone knows, are planes so it couldn't have been a commercial aircraft but the police in my county use a jet plane, not a helicopter, so it had to be something else, or someone else's. All I can say is that this is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me.

[loopy]

^ Now that is an epic story ;D

Let me Tell YOU A Story!

It is good not to think about things. If it's work, that's fine but you shouldn't think about other things as it only causes sadness (I wont name those things to protect you all) Anyway, never expect anything in life, just make the most of what you have, rather then wanting what you don't have. Also turn your bad stuff into good stuff. For example Admin says he's bitter. Now i agree with this being an age thing but if that's how he feels, he cant take a step to move forward. He shuold just spend his time trying not to be bitter. That would be a good use of his time and make him feel better about himself! That's how i will see things ;D

[loopy]

Crazy, what happened to the daily thing lol?

There were once 3 big companies. 1 called T-Mobile, 1 called 02 and the other called Vodafone. They all sold phones for a long time but then came Mobile Broadband. It was a good way for internet on the move but it was of a low quality. Now some people used this to get internet at home for numerous reasons. But this had downsides. Excessive use cause all the 3 nets to fail and the people at home got angry.

The moral of this story? NEVER get Mobile Broadband unless its an absolute last resort xD

[MeAmCryzor]

Oh yeah, my story for the day

Oh well, I guess it'll have to be story of the week now ;D

Story of the week 10/11th Jan 2009

I was doing work experience in a court and we were about to start an interview with a client. The clients were the usual suspects; drink drivers, asbos, etc. It was my first ever time interviewing so I was a little nervous. As soon as we got in, the solicitor pointed to a chair in the corner of the room, far away from the table. He said 'You'll sit there, let me bring it closer to the table though' He then took the chair and, indeed, brought it closer to the table. We sat down and he called the first person in. It was a that point when he whispered to me 'Oh, and, er.. for health and safety reasons, if he kicks off, get behind me and let me have the first punch' He then said 'Don't worry though, I think these are all drink drivers so they wont do anything' Then the client walked in. He was huge, like a proper rugby player, tall, fat and with muscles bulging everywhere. He sat down aggressivelly. 'Oh, so you're Mr. (name blanked for confidentiality reasons) and you're here today for er... Oh yes, assault.....'

You can imagine the fear on my face

[loopy]

XD Haha i'd love to do that!

The Life Of One Sorry Ass Gamecube Control...

This gamecube control started its life in the hands of a nice owner. It had a great start in life playing many games and taking little damage. Then the daddy came along and borrowed it.

Months later it was returned with tape on the control stick, and multiple buttons broken. Then came the hammer and shovel. After a swift attack the control was put out of its misery.

The End.

[seahollysaph]

Here's a short one.

Today in my Intro to Philosophy course, the professor asked each of us what our motivation for taking the class was.

Most answered "because it was a core requirement," or "because it seemed interesting."

I answered "revenge."

[loopy]

XD Your teacher must have been like o.O' "What?"

There was once a booklet. This booklet contained vital information and a personal journal about a young mans life. This young man decided to put them in a draw, never to be seen, other then when he needed to gain access to the other important documents. But he wanted this to be not often so he just hoped he'd not need to access other stuff in the book. Other then that, this draw had about 100 other personal items to this man, about half of which from a girl he was once in love with. Luckily, for some reason, when he see's the items now, he doesn't feel heart broken.

^ That was something i was just thinking about now.

[Dogmantra]

Today in a French lesson I was asked to provide an example of a "I was doing X when Y happened" sentence in English. I almost said "I was driving down the freeway in the fast lane with a rabid wolverine in my underwear when suddenly the guy behind me in the back seat popped right up and cupped his hands across my eyes."

I didn't.
I said "I was eating when the phone rang."

[loopy]

Jan 21, 2010 21:48:44 GMT Dogmantra said:

Today in a French lesson I was asked to provide an example of a "I was doing X when Y happened" sentence in English. I almost said "I was driving down the freeway in the fast lane with a rabid wolverine in my underwear when suddenly the guy behind me in the back seat popped right up and cupped his hands across my eyes."

I didn't.
I said "I was eating when the phone rang."

I actually don't know what ti make of that o.O'

[loopy]

My Phone

So i ordered a phone today and it should be coming all the way from Hong Kong. I was wondering just how much of a journey it'll make even before it reaches me. It'll be handled by a load of people, put on a few boats. It might spend nights in box hotels and see sights that i may never see... Man i envy that phone already ;D

[MeAmCryzor]

My green coat

This happened a few days ago. I was looking through my vast wardrobe trying to find something warm to wear and I found this coat. I hadn't worn it in a while for some reason and so I decided to wear it. I then put my hands in the pockets and found £314.87 and a bag of Pistachios. Of course the money is now sleeping in my wallet and the pistachios in my stomach. I love those moments

[Deleted]

A stranger was on the road today.

Only hills, water, and mud surrounded him, the rising and falling terrain to his left and a massive lake to his right, a relatively straight path both before and behind him. A half-hearted fence, sticks jammed into the dirt every couple of feet, acted as the only barrier between his path and the water. Clumps of dead grass and weeds peppered the dirt, blanketing it all only vaguely.

Focus. Ignore everything else. He needed to keep going.

One foot in front of the other. Each armor-clad boot thudding into the ground and guiding him on. Left. Right. Left. Right.

It was that time where it wasn’t quite evening, but not yet night, either. The sky was mottled with a grey-blue, the last remnants of the sun long since swallowed by the horizon in the distance while the light still fought for reign over the clouds above. The wind was harsh, with a bitter cold that would bite through anyone’s flesh to the tender bone beneath. It whipped at the mud and the dead grass with the force only nature could muster, spattering it against his legs and feet as he trudged ahead step by step. The water danced at its command, ripples spreading forth and tiny waves rising up meager inches, before collapsing back to try again another time.

What was down this way? The worn groove that acted as the closest thing to a “road” announced years upon years of travelers hiking wearily to wherever their own personal path led them. Now it served as his only guide as to a direction—any direction—of where to go next. Did the travelers before him ever find their destiny? Did they, too, wander through winds and bitter colds?

Whatever was over there, he’d find out in due time. Right now, he needed to focus.

He tucked his tattered brown hood over his face, a single red eye peering from underneath. Dull grey armor covered him from head to toe…tarnished, dented, and scarred from years of use and abuse. White scraps of cloth over the armor formed makeshift bandages up and down along his left arm, in which he clutched the shaft of a large golden staff strapped across his back. Completing the ensemble was a tattered brown cloak with a hood, hugging close to his shoulders and his face, and trailing behind him onto the ground.

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ll make it through.”

There was nothing around him that could have heard him. He continued, regardless.

“I know I’ve been saying that for a while, but it’s true. We’ve always made it through, even if there’s been difficulties.” He continued. “Tonight, it’s just a windy evening. I think that among the list of worst things that could happen to us, getting blown over doesn’t rank too high.“

To punctuate this, the wind increased in intensity, whipping harder at his form and his cloak. The stranger yanked the staff off his back and jammed the base into the ground, holding on to it for support as the wind pummeled at him, threatening to hurl him back across the precious distance he had already hiked.

“See? This is nothing. As long as we keep moving between the heavier winds, we’ll make it to…wherever.”

It took a minute for the windy torrent to finally reach tolerable levels. He dug his feet into the ground and pushed, shouldering his way through the wind and cold once again. As he hiked, he hefted the staff out of the mud and into his arms, using his cloak to wipe off the spatters on the gold.



Night came quickly, as it tended to. The moon was empty tonight, and so it offered no light to the ground below—the man had taken his staff off his back and held it high, the thick head glowing white to illuminate the path before him. The wind had only gotten fiercer, howling with every blow against nature, the path, and the man that dared to stay standing against it, and so he struggled to retain his footing and to retain visibility as he peered around.

The hills had since grown taller and wider, reaching into the gaping sky and leaving the path to guide him into a one-sided gorge, with only the ever-expanding clutches of water to blockade the other side, still drifting off to beyond the limits of his vision. It had long since draped its claws into his own path, however, with tiny streams sifting through equally-tiny pathways in the dirt, covered up only sloppily by boards staked into the ground and nailed into each other. The sticks that worked as a fence were upsized into full planks of wood somewhere along the way, their thick bodies bound together one after the other by lengths of worn rope.

“Well, would you look at that?”

Construction. Even if it was unkempt beyond any semblance of professionalism, it was still a sign of civilization. And, more importantly, a place to rest after days of hiking.

“I think we’re getting closer, brother.” He lowered the staff down to dig the bottom into the ground once more, using it to pull himself forward step by step. “If people are giving care to the area, that means they’re around enough to care about it. …if that makes sense.”

It would, however, be a while until the signs paid off. At the half-mile mark, all he had to show for it was muddy legs—the boards had broken under his weight several times, sending his feet directly into the streams. At the mile mark, he had taken to wrapping his cloak around his body and clutching it with his free hand—the wind had threatened to rip it off, and he was delightfully fond of such a piece of clothing. Half an hour passed. An hour. Two hours. Three. Time seemed to drag on with every step he took, and only his willpower and mighty strength kept him going forth.

Further on, however, he finally had something to reward all of his efforts. It wasn’t too impressive, just a square grotto; an artificial cave dug into the side of the mountain and lined with grey bricks along the walls, ceiling, and floor. It was disgustingly dusty and dank as well, with more than its fair share of mold climbing up along the walls. For all he cared, however, it may as well have been the gates to paradise. He quickly doused the light on his staff and sheathed it along his back, charging straight inside. The wind howled at the entrance behind him.

“You hear that, brother? Those are howls of rage—no longer does the beast have us as victims to torment.”

The barrels lined along the walls and the torches hanging from the ceiling passed by him in a flurry. Further on, the corridor ended in a wooden double-door, a dark mahogany oak that had been soiled from the dirt and batters over its long existence. Thick glass windows lay in triplicate on each door, along with a net of steel bars supporting the old wood, but the windows were too thick to see through and the steel was just as in a terrible a shape as the doors themselves—tarnished, grimy, and covered in rust.

But it was beautiful, to him. It signaled somewhere to go and rest inside. His sudden enthusiasm was unable to hide the sheer weariness that wracked his entire body, from his days upon days of hiking.

His grace reminiscent of a charging monster did not go unnoticed, and before he even arrived the door opened up for a young female face to poke through the crack. Her skin was pale and her features hardened for her youth, messy dark brown hair shooting roughly around her face in a makeshift frame, narrowed golden eyes staring at him and a massive frown on her face.

“what the h*** do you want?”

The man slowed down to a stop just outside of the door, his hands gripping his thighs for support as he hunched over. “Rest. For the love of it all, rest.”

“Tch.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “You think this is some kind of inn or something?”

He sunk his head down. “Look, have some sympathy. I’ve been hiking for—“

“Well, whatever. I don’t want to hear it. Give me a bit and I’ll open up for you.” She retreated her head back and slammed the door shut.

He just stood there, momentarily. He didn’t quite expect this reception.

There was a rustling behind the door, the sounds of cloth waving and flapping. It only took several seconds, and then right after there was a powerful BOOT, the woman kicking the door wide open and slamming it against the wall. He took a couple startled steps back, startled. He didn’t quite expect this, either.

She stood there as well, waiting for a response. He took advantage of this time to take her appearance in. She bore a thick black cloak wrapped around her entire body, shoulders to feet, and a white scarf wrapped around her neck and her mouth, covering up half of her face with the tails dangling behind her back. Underneath the cloak, he could just barely make out brown leather boots, padded and with thick soles. Her form underneath the cloak was slim and surprisingly tall—as tall as he was, possibly. Perhaps a little less. Perhaps a little more.

“You’re an idiot to be going about the cold in that suit of armor.” She said, her voice muffled slightly through the scarf. She had taken the time to glance him over as well.

He tried to respond, but she cut him off before he could say a word. “Well, whatever. Come on in already, welcome to Idol’s Cull. My name’s Valeria.” She stood to the side of the door and just stared inside, waiting patiently for him to enter.

He didn’t need to be urged twice, and he quickly dashed inside. Valeria turned after him and followed close, shutting the door behind them both.






Trying to figure out where to go from here.

[Dogmantra]

Feb 21, 2010 17:18:58 GMT @terminusest13 said:

Trying to figure out where to go from here.

Okay here's what to do: have your characters discover a body in the back of a stolen car. One of them stays to investigate after the other leaves. They go back in time, establish a life for themselves back then, age a good 20 ish years, befriend their own parents, end up having themself and their brother named after them, getting in a plane crash after leaving the country, but instead of dying, getting sent back in time again to about 10 years before the first time they were sent back, befriending themself from when they got sent back the first time, having a car left in their care, waiting 'til their real self has grown up to the age that they first found the body at and shouting at themself to beware the ides of March (using the letter C which is amazing because they refuse to use it...) and getting really annoying so their young self kills them. Then the self that got sent back in time the first time stuffs the body into the boot of the car that the second time traveller-self lent to him.

Oh wait, no, I just described the most confusing part of my Novel... Apologies if I broke your brain.

[Deleted]

They can't have a car.
This is generic Fantasyworldlandia.

Don't you know anything about history? The middle ages had electric guitars, swords, Nikes, soda, and burgers, but not cars.

[Dogmantra]

Chariot.

Sorted. Now we've sorted that bit you you can get started with ripping off the rest of my story. Get to work. 's called The Pocket English Dictionary.