Ways to procrastinate: the plot-generated operaHumour
Readers, we’ve discovered a new game.
If you head over to Plot Generator, you can fill in a form that creates your own short story (sort of like Mad Libs). It’s kind of fun on its own, but there’s a nerdy twist to it.
We tried filling in the plot generator with the details of some of our favourite opera stories. Our first try was with Bluebeard’s Castle:
Dark Bluebeard’s Castle: A Short Story
Duke Bluebeard looked at the bloody door in his hands and felt curious.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his scary surroundings. He had always loved dark Bluebeard’s Castle with its disturbed, defiant doors. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel curious.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Judith . Judith was a needy killer with pretty eye and young heart. Duke gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a private, inquisitive, blood drinker with bearded eye and tall heart. His friends saw him as a boiled, black bird. Once, he had even helped a steamed dead wife recover from a flying accident.
But not even a private person who had once helped a steamed dead wife recover from a flying accident, was prepared for what Judith had in store today. The rain hammered like moving dogs, making Duke shy. As Duke stepped outside and Judith came closer, he could see the combative smile on her face.
Judith glared with all the wrath of 2373 troubled splendid snakes. She said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want openness.” Duke looked back, even more shy and still fingering the bloody door. “Judith, I like my privacy,” he replied.
They looked at each other with unwilling feelings, like two courageous, creepy cat opening at a very insecure wedding, which had serial music playing in the background and two uncles showing to the beat. Suddenly, Judith lunged forward and tried to punch Duke in the face. Quickly, Duke grabbed the bloody door and brought it down on Judith’s skull.
Judith’s pretty eye trembled and her young heart wobbled. She looked frightened, her emotions raw like a lively, low lake. Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Judith was dead.
Duke Bluebeard went back inside and made himself a nice drink of blood.
Pretty great, right? We tried it out again with La traviata, to more ridiculous results:
Independent Violetta Valéry: A Short Story
Violetta Valéry looked at the cold letter in her hands and felt in love. She walked over to the window and reflected on her rich surroundings. She had always loved lavish Paris with its cuddly, curious club. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel In love.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Giorgio Germont. Giorgio was a generous ass with frail heart and beautiful legs. Violetta gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was an independent, insecure, champagne drinker with brunette heart and wrinkled legs. Her friends saw her as a blue-eyed, broad bird. Once, she had even jumped into a river and saved a manky sick woman.
But not even an independent person who had once jumped into a river and saved a manky sick woman, was prepared for what Giorgio had in store today. The storm teased like chasing bird, making Violetta regretful. As Violetta stepped outside and Giorgio came closer, she could see the disturbed smile on his face.
Giorgio glared with all the wrath of 6686 ignorant fancy fox. He said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want to let my son marry someone else.” Violetta looked back, even more regretful and still fingering the cold letter. “Giorgio, but I love him,” she replied.
They looked at each other with judgmental feelings, like two easy, encouraging elephant loving at a very pious party, which had Classical music playing in the background and two hurt uncles dying to the beat.
Violetta studied Giorgio’s frail heart and beautiful legs. Eventually, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” began Violetta in apologetic tones, “but I don’t feel the same way, and I never will. I just don’t hate you Giorgio.” Giorgio looked heartbroken, his emotions raw like a gentle, gloopy gown.
Violetta could actually hear Giorgio’s emotions shatter into 179 pieces. Then the generous ass hurried away into the distance. Not even a drink of champagne would calm Violetta’s nerves tonight.