Is the 'Teabag sandwich' added for flavour or does it actually help the
story progress. Perhaps indentifying the brand would give depth...
The important policeman was instantly drawn to the clamorous PG Tips.
A tepid teabag sandwich lay on the corpse's lap like a discarded
wholemeal Durex.
Def - interesting! I didn't warm to Mark even though I knew he was going to meet a sticky end (literally, by sounds of it!). Is that deliberate?
I'd like to see Polo the cat as the narrator, he sounds like he might have an evil streak! (Or is that because all cats have an evil streak?)
Is there something in the fact that we are all on here because we like comedy writing but in our story ideas, we prefer to kill people??! 
Quote: Posiekins @ April 6 2011, 1:20 PM BSTDef - interesting! I didn't warm to Mark
Yeah thanks a bunch!
Quote: Marc P @ April 6 2011, 1:29 PM BSTYeah thanks a bunch!
Well, Marcs with a C are obviously a whole different breed! 
I've got both
Not exactly a first paragraph, but ages ago I wrote the beginning of a story. It was way back on pre-DOS computers, so my original version is lost in incompatible magnetic bits.
So I've done a re-write, from what I recall.
Software Slavery
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I arrived home at around 7 pm and Mother opened the door for me. I knew it was Mother because she still hasn't quite got the hang of the door servos and jerks the door at the end its travel. I walked through into the kitchen and she was making me a cup of tea. "Hello Jim" she said from the kitchen speaker as the wall camera swivelled to follow me.
"Hi Mum" I said, "do you mind if I put you to sleep for a while. I really need to talk to Uncle Terry!".
"Oh, alright" she said reluctantly, "but bring me back soon if you want any supper, you wouldn't want to eat Terry's cooking".
We can't afford more than the one cognitive computer, so my ancestors have to time share the only one we've got. So I pressed the button that stored Mother's cognitimage in her backup store and then when she was safely stored I pressed Uncle Terry's button to load him in.
"Hello" said Uncle Terry, "long time no see!"
Quote: Posiekins @ April 6 2011, 1:20 PM BSTDef - interesting! I didn't warm to Mark even though I knew he was going to meet a sticky end (literally, by sounds of it!). Is that deliberate?
I'd like to see Polo the cat as the narrator, he sounds like he might have an evil streak! (Or is that because all cats have an evil streak?)
The sticky end bit for Mark is actually a false beginning. When I first started to write this about 4 years ago I had heard that you needed to grab the readers attention straight away, hence the 'sticky end' opening paragraph. In my authors voice I then quickly say that it didn't happen like that and proceed to tell the story. You have highlighted an important point though. Although I know this doesn't happen to Mark, the reader obviously does not. Initially this was supposed to be a joke in itself but I think it is a bit hit or miss. And probably more miss if I'm honest.
It is ok that you didn't warm to Mark. He is actually a good guy, but in that opening section it is only his frustration that I guess comes out.
Def.
Here's the first paragraph of my Novel
Silent but Freddly
His name was Fred, He had a real limited vocabulary and a terrible imagination.
He was somewhere mysterious & descriptive the sort of place that hooks you in & makes you want to read on, I mean see more.
Fred chuckled to himself in 3rd or 1st person haven't decided yet, I might be Fred not sure let's see how it goes.
And then the exciting thing happened, maybe the first of many?
Quote: Steve Sunshine @ April 6 2011, 9:20 PM BSTHere's the first paragraph of my Novel
Silent but FreddlyHis name was Fred, He had a real limited vocabulary and a terrible imagination.
He was somewhere mysterious & descriptive the sort of place that hooks you in & makes you want to read on, I mean see more.
Fred chuckled to himself in 3rd or 1st person haven't decided yet, I might be Fred not sure let's see how it goes.
And then the exciting thing happened, maybe the first of many?
Yeah that's four paragraphs And badly laid out too!
Quote: Steve Sunshine @ April 6 2011, 9:20 PM BSTHere's the first paragraph of my Novel
Silent but FreddlyHis name was Fred, He had a real limited vocabulary and a terrible imagination.
He was somewhere mysterious & descriptive the sort of place that hooks you in & makes you want to read on, I mean see more.
Fred chuckled to himself in 3rd or 1st person haven't decided yet, I might be Fred not sure let's see how it goes.
And then the exciting thing happened, maybe the first of many?
Quote: Marc P @ April 6 2011, 10:52 PM BSTYeah that's four paragraphs
Just for that I'm not going to put it in showcase!
Quote: Steve Sunshine @ April 6 2011, 11:45 PM BST
Just for that I'm not going to put it in showcase!
Bit more than a paragraph I know. this was from a kids book I never finished.
In the control room of 'Zorbian Comestibles', a giant food-processing factory on the outer rim of the Andromeda spiral galaxy, Oominus Klodd almost choked on his Snafflebeast sarnie as the words "IMPLANT CONTAINMENT FAILURE" suddenly flashed up on his computer wall-screen. A screeching alarm that sounded for all the world like a Jerovian Dung-Cat being castrated had burst into life, threatening to pop all four of his eardrums.
"Fomfooter!", he shouted, spitting wet crumbs all over his computer keyboard, "Filence ve alarm!"
"Request not understood, please repeat" came the computer's deep, yet distinctly effeminate tones. Oominus chewed his mouthful of sandwich quickly. He thought for a moment about spitting it onto the floor, but he enjoyed his food far too much for that. He struggled with the huge, succulent lump of Snafflebeast in his mouth.
"I'm waiting..." sighed the computer.
"All right, all right, hold on...nearly...there..." Oominus said as he chewed furiously. At last, he swallowed. "Computer! Silence the alarm!".
The alarm stopped. Oominus heaved his enormous wobbling backside out of his chair and waddled over to the wallscreen.
"Computer, identify implant problem".
"Implant no longer...implanted, sir."
"Hmmm. Intriguing" said Oominus as he stroked one of his chins with his three, short, chubby fingers. "Location?"
"Alpha C Quadrant." said the computer.
"Galaxy?" enquired Oominus.
"Milky Way."
"Planet?" Oominus asked, suddenly feeling a little nauseous.
"Earth" the computer replied. Oominus felt a cold, sickly feeling trickle down his scaly spine. He closed his bright yellow eyes and steeled himself. "Species?"
"Human" came the reply. Oominus steadied himself against the wall with his hand and slapped his forehead with the other. As he did this, a short fat tube of wet, green flesh which protruded from the top of his head broke wind slightly. His two remaining hands fidgeted with one another nervously.
"Humans", he whispered. "I detest humans."
As we're in a sharing mood, from my soon to be un-published novel "The Fruit & Veg Man". And not, technically , a paragraph
The man in the frock turned sideways to check his reflection in the mirror.
A callused hand ran down the front of the dress, smoothing the delicate material over the curves of a nascent beer belly.
"It shows the lumps and bumps a bit."
"Gold-lame will do that - it's not the kindest of materials. A little strappy belt might take the curse off it..."
It was four in the afternoon and Tim Sanders was sitting on a barstool in 'Transformations'- a discrete gentleman's club off the Marylebone Road - selling outsize frocks to the manager, a Greek transvestite called Manny.
A phone rang nearby and it took Tim a full three rings before he worked out it was actually his.
It was a new mobile - he'd been upgraded at gunpoint - and this was the first time he'd heard it's 'hilarious' Hawaii-Five-0 ring tone.
Shamefully, he answered, holding up an apologetic hand to his client.
"It's your Mother." It wasn't and he told the caller as much.
"Not me! I'm not your mother. I'm your Auntie Maureen !"
"Then why the hell..."
"How could I be your Mother when she's lying in a near vegetative state at St. Michael's?"
Tim pulled a face at the phone.
"Yes, I know that Maureen, I'm popping in on my way home tonight."
"Well, I shouldn't bother, 'cos she's dead."
And that was that.
He continued listening in silence, trying to muster the appropriate feelings, while she told him not to worry, she would organize everything, at the same time tacitly implying that, had he been any sort of a son, he would have been at the bedside, calling the undertakers, phoning round the relatives and so on.
He let her finish, said goodbye then snapped the mobile shut.
The man in the gold-lame slip dress was speaking.
"Trouble is, Tim, this sort of stuff's not as popular as it was. Cross-dressing has moved on - these days it's all spangly boob tubes and hot pants - look at Gerri Halliwell..."
"She' s not...is she?"
"No, no... but she's an icon to the community."
Manny began undressing and, not for the first time, Tim wondered quite how it was that things had ended up like this.