An MFA Mad Lib

I don’t know about you, but I loved Mad Libs as a kid. I also love Halloween, and I have fond memories of Halloween during my MFA days. I therefore humbly submit a Halloween-themed, MFA-oriented Mad Libs.

To refresh your memory, they’re pretty easy to do. Just fill in the blanks, and then plug in your word choices into the story. (I had originally set this up as a java app, but it wasn’t working, so you’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.)

If you want to make your own (in a nifty form), you can do so here.

OK, here goes:

NAME OF A FAMOUS EXPLORER. _________________________________

NON-NUTRITIVE FOOD _________________________________

NAME OF GAS STATION_________________________________

TOP-FLIGHT BOOZE_________________________________

WATERFOWL_________________________________

DISEASE LISTED IN THE DSM IV_________________________________

FAMOUS CHILD ACTOR_________________________________

NUMBER_________________________________

DRUG_________________________________

TYPE OF AIRCRAFT_________________________________

FEMALE POET_________________________________

ACTOR OR CHARACTER FROM ANY STAR TREK SERIES_________________________________

COUNTRY IN NORTHERN EUROPE_________________________________

TERRIBLE FOOD AND/OR OBJECT_________________________________

POISONOUS AND/OR DANGEROUS COMPOUND_________________________________

CHEAP TERRIBLE BEER_________________________________

REALLY OVERRATED POET_________________________________

LITERARY THEORY YOU HATE_________________________________

WATERFOWL_________________________________

EUPHEMISM FOR DRUNK_________________________________

VERB_________________________________

ARCHAIC VACCINE-PREVENTABLE DISEASE_________________________________

PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED ARCHAIC DISEASE_________________________________

It’s Halloween in your MFA program, and it’s time to party. You saunter over to Steve’s house, but everyone calls him Mr. [Last name of a famous explorer.] No one knows why, exactly, but he insists.

It’s a potluck, but you’re poor, so you brought along [non-nutritive food] which you purchased at [name of gas station].

You tell everyone that you’re sorry, that you don’t have any money, but that’s clearly not true when everyone notices you trying to sneak your [top-flight booze] into the now-overflowing fridge.

You look around the room. You are dressed as a [waterfowl]. You don’t know why you chose this costume, but it is probably due to your [disease listed in the DSM IV]. That, or your malfunctioning sense of humor; after all, you did laugh when you heard [famous child actor] won a Darwin award after ingesting [number] ounces of [drug] by inhaling it as a powder while airborne in an [type of aircraft].

You look across the room and you see your MFA-crush. She is dressed as a somewhat scandalous version of [female poet].

Her boyfriend is next to her. He sort of looks like a hipster version of [Star Trek actor/character]. Of course, he has a mustache that seems better suited to nineteenth-century [country in northern europe]. His poetry is so bad you`d rather eat [terrible food/object] soaked in [poisonous and or dangerous compound] than read it.

He starts to speak, and you immediately have to take a drink of the [cheap terrible beer] that someone has left unattended next to you. You just know he`ll start pontificating about how great [overrated poet] is and espousing the importance of [literary theory you hate]. In the process he will say poem like this, “po-em.” This makes you wish you were armed, if only with a [waterfowl] so you could hit him over the head.

You therefore proceed to get really, really [euphemism for drunk] and you decide that it`d be a great idea to [verb] in the backyard. Surely, no one will mind.

Your immune system does seem to mind, as a few days later you develop what seems to be [archaic vaccine-preventable disease]. From then on, everyone in the program calls you the [archaic vaccine-preventable disease] Kid.

Here is how mine turned out:

It`s Halloween in your MFA program, and it`s time to party. You saunter over to Steve`s house, but everyone calls him Mr. Shackleton. No one knows why, exactly, but he insists.

It`s a potluck, but you`re poor, so you brought along Mike ‘n Ikes which you purchased at Texaco.

You tell everyone that you`re sorry, that you don`t have any money, but that`s clearly not true when everyone notices you trying to sneak your Chimay Beer into the now-overflowing fridge.

You look around the room. You are dressed as a duck. You don`t know why you chose this costume, but it is probably due to your narcissism. That, or your malfunctioning sense of humor; after all, you did laugh when you heard Shirley Temple won a Darwin award after ingesting 37 ounces of cephalexin by inhaling it as a powder while airborne in a blimp.

You look across the room and you see your MFA-crush. She is dressed as a somewhat scandalous version of Maya Angelou.

Her boyfriend is next to her. He sort of looks like a hipster version of the Borg. Of course, he has a mustache that seems better suited to nineteenth-century Norway. His poetry is so bad you`d rather eat onions soaked in thallium than read it.

He starts to speak, and you immediately have to take a drink of the Milwaukee’s Best that someone has left unattended next to you. You just know he`ll start pontificating about how great Dr. Seuss is and espousing the importance of Deconstructionism. In the process he will say poem like this, “po-em.” This makes you wish you were armed, if only with a merganser so you could hit him over the head.

You therefore proceed to get really, really blasted and you decide that it`d be a great idea to yodel in the backyard. Surely, no one will mind.

Your immune system does seem to mind, as a few days later you develop what seems to be consumption. From then on, everyone in the program calls you the Consumption Kid.

5 Comments

  • Shira Richman says:

    Wow, mine turned out really nicely. Nice story, and thanks for the playful distraction.

  • Melissa says:

    “a somewhat scandalous version of Maya Angelou” = hahaha. What a great idea for a post.

  • Amaris Amaris says:

    It’s Halloween in your MFA program, and it’s time to party. You saunter over to Steve’s house, but everyone calls him Mr. de Soto. No one knows why, exactly, but he insists.

    It’s a potluck, but you’re poor, so you brought along fiery Cheetos, which you purchased at Tri-H.

    You tell everyone that you’re sorry, that you don’t have any money, but that’s clearly not true when everyone notices you trying to sneak your Don Julio into the now-overflowing fridge.

    You look around the room. You are dressed as a whooping crane. You don’t know why you chose this costume, but it is probably due to your Alzheimer’s. That, or your malfunctioning sense of humor; after all, you did laugh when you heard Macauly Culkin won a Darwin award after ingesting sixty-three ounces of Aspirin
    by inhaling it as a powder while airborne in an Goodyear Blimp.

    You look across the room and you see your MFA-crush. She is dressed as a somewhat scandalous version of Tracy K. Smith.

    Her boyfriend is next to her. He sort of looks like a hipster version of Data. Of course, he has a mustache that seems better suited to nineteenth-century Finland. His poetry is so bad you`d rather eat a guillotine soaked in methylenedioxymethamphetamine than read it.

    He starts to speak, and you immediately have to take a drink of the Coors that someone has left unattended next to you. You just know he`ll start pontificating about how great Ogden Nash is and espousing the importance of [literary theory you hate]. In the process he will say poem like this, “po-em.” This makes you wish you were armed, if only with a mallard so you could hit him over the head.

    You therefore proceed to get really, really tight and you decide that it`d be a great idea to mow in the backyard. Surely, no one will mind.

    Your immune system does seem to mind, as a few days later you develop what seems to be whooping cough From then on, everyone in the program calls you the Whooping Kid.

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