Remember mad libs, guys? Those booklets with the weird smiley-face people on the covers? Yeah, you know the ones I’m talking about. Here, let me see if I can find…
Aha, there. A little picture, but a picture nonetheless. Remember those?
In case you somehow missed these growing up (if so, what a sad deprived childhood you must have had!), mad libs are a word game (usually played with 2+ players) wherein you are given a short story that has had certain words removed from it. You don’t read the story beforehand (or at least, I try not to). On the next page is a list of blank lines accompanied by a description of the type of word you should use to fill in that blank (“noun”, “adjective”, “exclamation”, “part of the body”, etc.). Your job is to fill in those blank lines with whatever wacky words you like. When the list is full, you take those words and fill in the corresponding blanks in the short story and read it aloud.
If you’ve picked appropriately bizarre words, I dare you to get through reading a Mad Libs round with a straight face.
Tonight, for reasons unknown, I decided to create a mad lib out of a story excerpt. I’ve no clue how this is going to turn out, but let’s see what happens!
First of all, fill out the word list! This is an important step, so take your time. Go on. I’ll wait. 
(Hint: wacky words often make for more interesting results.) Aaaaaand your guidelines aaaaare:
1. verb ending in ed
2. adverb
3. noun
4. plural unit of measurement
5. noun
6. animal
7. adjective
8. past tense verb
9. plural noun
10. verb ending in ing
11. noun
12. noun
13. part of the body
14. verb ending in ed
15. adverb
16. plural noun
17. noun
18. verb ending in ing
19. verb
20. verb ending in ing
21. adjective
22. plural noun
23. plural body part
24. noun
25. interjection
26. noun
27. plural body part
28. verb ending in ed
29. plural animal
30. same noun as #26
…
…
…
…
Got that? Excellent! I’ve put together a list of my own here on a sticky note on my desktop. I’ve tried very hard to not peek at the text of the story itself because it’s more fun that way (shhh, I KNOW I wrote it, but I’m trying to forget which words I omitted). Okay, so now that you have your list, FILL IN THE BLANKS:
Kale Ogburn-Tobey (1) at them so (2) he might have been trying to break the sound (3) with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just (4) away from him, he tapped at its (5) with the air of one petting an excitable (6) before dodging around it with (7) agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia (8).
“Hey (9)!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, (10) into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way (11). Gasping to replace the (12) that had been squeezed from his (13), Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and (14) at him (15) as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout (16) in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude (17) before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, (18) from ear to ear.
“If you (19) (20) someday,” Julia said, looking (21), “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for (22),” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his (23) across their shoulders, steering them across the (24) the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, (25), now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the (26).” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both (27) off the ground. Julia and Albert (28) under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of (29) like you to hold me up: that’s living on the (30),” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
And now that you’ve filled in the blanks, read it (aloud, if possible)! For my part, this is what I came up with:
Kale Ogburn-Tobey surfed at them so silkily he might have been trying to break the sound potato with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just kilometers away from him, he tapped at its battery with the air of one petting an excitable gorilla before dodging around it with invisible agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia waltzed.
“Hey scones!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, shaving into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way band saw. Gasping to replace the banana that had been squeezed from his fingernail, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and flailed at him angelically as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout dishes in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude penguin before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, roasting from ear to ear.
“If you gamble projectile vomiting someday,” Julia said, looking plastic, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for playing cards,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his kneecaps across their shoulders, steering them across the fedora the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, ugh, now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the tugboat.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both eyelashes off the ground. Julia and Albert flipped under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of lemurs like you to hold me up: that’s living on the tugboat,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
OMG YOU GUYS.
You don’t even know how difficult it was to type that up; half the time I was literally doubled over. Laughing until I couldn’t breathe. Tears in my eyes. I don’t expect you all to find this as entertaining as I do (malaprop/word-error humor is kind of my favorite—NaNoisms and DamnYouAutoCorrect.com can keep me in stitches for hours).
That said, if any of you want to try doing this with your own writing, PLEASE post a link in the comments, because I’d love to see it.
Also, I’d LOVE to see how this mad lib turned out with the words you picked—tell me the wacky things my characters do when I’m not looking!
SO BASICALLY: post hilarious things in the comments for me to read, and have fun with this!
(And for those of you who are curious, here’s the original text. The beta readers among you may recognize it from Chapter Three of Unfamiliar Spellings: )
Kale Ogburn-Tobey waved at them so vigorously he might have been trying to break the sound barrier with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just feet away from him, he tapped at its hood with the air of one petting an excitable dog before dodging around it with surprising agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia stood.
“Hey guys!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, slamming into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way hug. Gasping to replace the air that had been squeezed from his lungs, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and stared at him incredulously as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout obscenities in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude gesture before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, grinning from ear to ear.
“If you die jaywalking someday,” Julia said, looking ruffled, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for wimps,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his arms across their shoulders, steering them across the street the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, like, now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the edge.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both feet off the ground. Julia and Albert staggered under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of shrimps like you to hold me up: that’s living on the edge,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
WAY less entertaining than the mad libs version, huh? 
Okay, that was fun, and a much needed distraction. These were my favorite parts:
“Crosswalks are for elephants,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his belly buttons across their shoulders, steering them across the pickles the way he had come.
And…
“I like to live on the squirrel.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both nostrils off the ground.
I couldn’t read the whole thing out loud. It was bad enough my poorly stifled chuckles woke up the hubs.
AHAHAHAHA! Oh my God.
Dying over here. I need to leave the dining room so I don’t wake up my housemates with my giggles…
Kale Ogburn-Tobey galloped at them so gallantly he might have been trying to break the sound pick-up truck with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just ounces away from him, he tapped at its syrup with the air of one petting an excitable sloth before dodging around it with picturesque agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia cried.
“Hey grapes!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, drinking into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way cloud. Gasping to replace the song that had been squeezed from his eyelash, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and snorted at him religiously as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout funerals in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude clock before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, procrastinating from ear to ear.
“If you swim lifting someday,” Julia said, looking rancid, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for masquerades,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his spleens across their shoulders, steering them across the letter the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, OMG!, now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the cell phone.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both cheekbones off the ground. Julia and Albert salivated under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of narwhals like you to hold me up: that’s living on the cell phone,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
LOL.
http://markobrienwrites.blogspot.com/2012/08/a-seriously-funny-prompt.html
“Gasping to replace the song that had been squeezed from his eyelash…”
“…Julia said, looking rancid…”
“Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both cheekbones off the ground. Julia and Albert salivated under his weight.”
Never mind me making squeaking noises in the corner over here. Must…keep…breathing…
Kale Ogburn-Tobey running at them so playfully he might have been trying to break the sound pom-pom with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just miles away from him, he tapped at its computer with the air of one petting an excitable parakeet before dodging around it with beautiful agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia dated.
“Hey eggs!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, shooting into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way barf. Gasping to replace the toilet that had been squeezed from his nose, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and wedded at him lovingly as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout boobs in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude boob before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, waffling from ear to ear.
“If you bake mooning someday,” Julia said, looking scintillating, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for stars,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his legs across their shoulders, steering them across the dinosaur the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, um, now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the piano.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both eyes off the ground. Julia and Albert headed under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of monkeys like you to hold me up: that’s living on the piano,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
Kale Ogburn-Tobey twittered at them so horridly he might have been trying to break the sound curtain with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just hectares away from him, he tapped at its goy with the air of one petting an excitable giraffe before dodging around it with veritable agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia telegraphed.
“Hey deadbolts!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, bloviating into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way red shift. Gasping to replace the salt that had been squeezed from his toenail, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and somersaulted at him a priori as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout kestrels in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude cord before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, collapsing from ear to ear.
“If you sprout tackling someday,” Julia said, looking complimentary, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for hemlines,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his coccyx across their shoulders, steering them across the abrasion the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, flibbertigibbet, now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the margrave.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both pineal glands off the ground. Julia and Albert galumphed under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of okapi like you to hold me up: that’s living on the margrave,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
Kale Ogburn-Tobey slurped at them so happily he might have been trying to break the sound pesantren (Islamic boarding school) with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just cups away from him, he tapped at its back with the air of one petting an excitable turtle before dodging around it with sweet agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia shook.
“Hey calories!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, sleeping into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way cake. Gasping to replace the exhaustion that had been squeezed from his hand, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and winked at him slyly as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout sounds in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude river before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, playing from ear to ear.
“If you admire losing someday,” Julia said, looking confused, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for cattle,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his tummies across their shoulders, steering them across the eraser the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, aiyo (a Indonesian phrase meaning, among other things, “let’s go!”), now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the stars.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both wrists off the ground. Julia and Albert cuckolded under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of cats like you to hold me up: that’s living on the stars,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.
“with the air of one petting an excitable gorilla…” An expression I long to see
)
The problem I have with these exercises is that they trigger in me the standard 1970s drama school student “Improvisatory Response” – which means a rapid slide from sex to madness and death… I’ll not be posting my try.
Kale Ogburn-Tobey stopped at them so quickly he might have been trying to break the sound bottle with his hand. As the car slid to a halt just inches away from him, he tapped at its lamp with the air of one petting an excitable zebra before dodging around it with tiny agility and barreling up the hill towards the spot on the curb where Albert and Julia saw.
“Hey glasses!” Kale called. He made no effort to slow down as he approached, Jumping into Albert and Julia and pulling them into a tight, three-way spoon. Gasping to replace the watch that had been squeezed from his arm, Albert wriggled free of Kale’s grip and walked at him reluctantly as the driver of the car rolled down his window to shout nails in their direction. Kale turned towards the driver and casually returned the swearing with a rude string before swinging back to look at Albert and Julia, remembering from ear to ear.
“If you go dialing someday,” Julia said, looking light, “I’m going to have very little sympathy.”
“Crosswalks are for cars,” said Kale cheerfully. He slung his toes across their shoulders, steering them across the cubicle the way he had come.
“Yeah. But what’s your rush?” Albert said. “You couldn’t wait until, Space, now? When there are no cars?”
“I like to live on the speaker.” Kale suddenly jumped and lifted both teeth off the ground. Julia and Albert played under his weight.
“Kale!”
“See? Trusting a couple of ants like you to hold me up: that’s living on the speaker,” Kale said, setting his feet on the ground again.