If you don’t know what story cubes are, see the introduction to the story cubes series.
To see the original roll of the story cubes, see yesterday’s post.
There was a land called “Ne’er-do-Well ” by the locals because it was a sort of pastoral Bermuda Triangle. The sheep wouldn’t go there, only corpse flowers would grow, and those planes that dared to overfly it crashed. Shadows of deranged clowns lay there dormant until disturbed. A fountain of evil flowed into a river of stench. It wasn’t quite as foul as the East River, but it wasn’t far off.
No one with any sense ever went there until one day, a tourist ignored the fence with the signs that said, “Don’t go here if you have any sense whatsoever.” (The clowns would post those signs when they got hungry, knowing the more jerky tourists made great tourist jerky.) She posted about it on social media and now it’s an Airbnb with a three-year waiting list.
The clowns have put on a lot of weight since then.
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