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Share YOUR best story on improv4humans!

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Humans! Tell us YOUR best story, and we may use it to inspire a scene on an upcoming episode of improv4humans!

 

Record a 2-3 minute audio clip of you telling your best story, and email it to: Improv4Humans (at) Earwolf (dot) com

 

We’ll play some on the show! We may even have some of our favorites call in for our live shows, like Bill did on

!
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I don't have a way to record my voice so I just typed it instead. I think this would be a great scene. Alrighty then. I sat down and started to catch parts of a conversation between two gents sitting behind me in the very last row of seats. We'll call the crazy one Bob and the comedic genius Jack. I'll put Bob's quotes in all CAPS and Jack's all lower case. After listening to a few sentences it was apparent these two had not met until then. The topic of hockey came up. Bob started to explain to Jack that he wanted to become the greatest hockey player in the world. Jack then asked "where do you practice?". Bob replied "OH I DON'T, I HAVE TO LEARN TO ICE SKATE FIRST. BUT I HAVE SO MUCH TALENT I'M GONNA BE THE BEST IN THE WORLD" Jack then asks "how old are you?". "I'M 30". "most players retire at age 35". "I KNOW. IT'S A SHAME."---- Now at this point I really wish I had something to record what was being said cause it was straight gold. It was also around the point of the story where I couldn't figure out if this guy was just delusional or was doing a bit/playing a character until he mentioned being homeless and begging for change earlier in the day. That kinda cleared things up. What was so great about the conversation was the part that Jack played in it all. Any normal person who had gotten this far into it with Bob could clearly tell he was a little nutty and would have withdrawn, maybe even changed seats. Not Jack though. He just kept asking invasive and hypothetical questions that resulted in answers that had me almost tearing up I was laughing so hard. Being only one row ahead of them made it crucial to contain myself cause I didn't want Bob to hear me laughing for the fear that he would clam up and the fun would stop. Here's some more of the Q and A: "so do you own a hockey stick?" "NO, OF COURSE NOT. I'VE NEVER PLAYED HOCKEY. BUT ONCE I START I'M GOING TO BE THE BEST IN THE WORLD AND MAKE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS." "what if it doesn't work out? what if you don't make the team?" "WELL IF FOR SOME REASON IT DOESN'T WORK OUT I'LL JUST BECOME THE BEST FIGHTER IN THE WORLD. OR GET INTO MODELING." "do you own skis?" "NO. YOU COULD GET HURT DOING STUFF LIKE THAT. GOING OFF JUMPS, DOING TRICKS, I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO HAPPEN TO THESE GOLDEN LEGS." Golden Legs? Did he really just refer to his lower appendages like that? "how are you going to get to new york?" Long pause. "THE SCOUTS. YEAH THE SCOUTS WILL SEE ME PLAY AND THEN I'LL END UP PLAYING FOR THE NEW YORK RANGERS." There was more but it's hard to recall all of it. What made it perfect was how sure Bob was. He spoke with such conviction and clearly wasn't troubled by things like doubt or fear. Must be nice. Also, Jack's timing with his questions was impeccable. If I HAD recorded it, I would have had a hard time convincing anyone it wasn't written and performed. It was that good. I swear they were on that bus just for me, just to make my day. I can tell it a lot better so I hope the typed version at least put a smile on your face.

 

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I couldn't find the thread for Best Story but here are mine.

 

I attempted murder at 6 years old.

I tried to be chivalrous and broke a girls tailbone

I inadvertently got mono from a french guy

I had to talk to the cops on mushrooms

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I walked out the footdoor and found that my new bycycle had been stolen and in it's place was a child's purple rusted Huffy. Out of spite, I fixed it up a bit and rode this POS down the block, bent wheels, squeaky gears and all. As I turned the corner I spot a couple guys getting of their bikes and one of them entered a convenient store while the other watched over the bikes.

 

As I approach him and realize that this was in fact my bycycle, I yell "This is my fucking bike and I'm taking it right now!" I then throw down the Huffy and ride away in some ridiculous gear they had it set to.

 

Vigilante Justice.

 

 

Hope this makes the show. Regardless, it was the best feeling.

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Was listening to an old episode and wanted to post my story too.

 

In junior high I had a sleepover at a friend's house with maybe 3 other friends. We were total shits, obviously. We'd do a "scavenger hunt" for mostly items that could be used for petty vandalism, primarily toilet paper. I was always shocked people would give stuff to us, often saying "better not use this on my house!"

 

We ran around all night being utterly ridiculous. I'd take one of those orange and white striped construction fold-out signs with the orange flashing light on top, put it directly against someone's front door, ring the doorbell 100 times, and run away.

 

Genius, I know.

 

We toilet papered houses and were nearly out of supplies, pretty much wrapping up our night's efforts. All we had left was chalk, so I was busy writing "hi SHITHEAD" on someone's driveway when my friend suddenly said "Holy shit there's some guy right there!"

 

Only he said it really fast so I didn't hear, but all my friends had run away and I looked up and to my right and there were two adult feet. I immediately started running but I'm like 12 and this is an adult so I could pretty much tell he was gaining on me.

 

Prepare for the climax of the story.

 

He caught up to me and tackled me and I nearly shit my pants, to the point that technically some poop came out of my butt but it was so little that after we were down it kind of sucked back up.

 

That was it, that was the climatic moment.

 

He walked me around, threatened to call the cops, mentioned his parents, which I thought was weird because when your'e 12 the difference between 20 and 30 is insignificant, asked if I knew which house was his... he seemed really paranoid about that and kept asking me to point to his house which of course I couldn't do for the life of me.

 

Eventually he threw me in a lake.

 

When my mom picked me up the next day she asked why my shirt was ripped and my clothes were all muddy.

 

I said my friends and I were fake wrestling and I fell into a mud puddle.

 

I love you, mom!

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Hey guys, you should do a selfie video or voice memo of you telling your story in your own words. I don't think me doing a live reading would make for great podcasting.

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My last band was playing our first album release show, and while we were setting up on stage before our set, this really drunk woman approached the stage and called me up so she could ask me a question. She was staggering back and forth holding a tall boy in her hand, absolutely hammered and began asking about our band, and what kind of music we play(which I've always had a hard time describing to people).

 

As soon as I used the word "Rock" she interrupted me and asked "What Covers do you guys do?",

to which I replied "We don't, this is our album release show, so we'll probably just stick to playing songs off our own album" (trying to be as nice about it as possible. She then asked if we knew a specific song by some shitty band like Killswitch Engaged or Godsmack, I can't remember the name but I just recall thinking "Did she even listen to a word I just said?", but before I could reinerate the fact that we weren't a cover band, She immediately started going on about how her best friend had just overdosed a couple months back and how this song meant a lot to her and her deceased friend and it would mean SO MUCH to her if we could play it.

 

Dumbfounded by her request that ignored all her questions prior to it, I turned to my bandmates and said, "Hey! You think we could cover this song for this chick tonight?". Our bassist walked up to the front of the stage to hear what she was talking about, meanwhile I slipped to the back of the stage to get away from her and set up. I found out later in the Green Room that she had not only asked the same line of questions to both my bandmates, but also to all 3 of the other bands playing that night.The saddest part was I saw her at the front of the stage the whole time waiting for that moment, and when we announced we were doing our last song and it turned out to be another original, she threw her beer on the stage, started screaming and left like we let her down or something.

 

Just saw the thing about the video/voice memo. I'll repost when I get the chance.

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I had a story in this spot (not mine, somebody else's), it was stupid, so now there's this post.

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so is this the official best story thread? I have one I want to submit but I just wanted to make sure it doesn't just get buried in the forums.

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I used to work security at a place surrounded by group homes full of crazy people and such. So I once had an old deaf crazy lady throw a used diaper at me, a guy getting so drunk he called the cops on himself, a crazy dude memorizing the entire Hitler speeches in German and shouting them in the middle of the street daily, a crazy lady giving a dude a blowjob behind a Subway(the sandwhich place) the day after Christmas, oh and about four days ago a very drunk man wandered into my new security site offering me a job that it turns out is an actual real job worth fifty grand a year(which is a lot more than I make now). I might be able to record my voice with something or other, if anybody is actually interested in the stories(though I have a monotone so really you all could read my stories better than I could ever say them). Might have some other ones as well, if I think about it more. Those are just the ones that stand out.

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This drunk idiot told me a story about a trip to Las Vegas. I recorded it and uploaded it onto my Joke a Day series on YouTube. His british accent and his friends interruptions make quite a funny video.

Check it out!

 

 

Love,

@talalaban

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i was sitting on my couch and watching the yahoo screen show "community" and guess who gives a tour de force for the last 5 min of the program??? Matt Besser

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Sent in my Story.

 

It is a tale of a middle school kid getting stabbed in the face and being punished by having to go to the girls sex ed.

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Will send mine in. Posting this to remind myself about the story how a cop showed up at our door one day when I was 10 to give me a restraining order from "bullying" someone on the bus, he asked for me after I came to the door and asked if this was a joke and laughed at me because of how skinny and nerdy I was. ((btw I was not bullying anyone my parents and our neighbors didn't get along and they didn't want us kids hanging out so the neighbors tried to get a bullshit restraining order put on me))

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I'll be sure to record this and send it in but here it is:

We were on tour in Florida. three acts, seven people. We took a bunch of mushrooms during the last act and this girl told us we could crash at her house. After the show, we drive to this girls house and by the time we get there the shrooms are kicking in.

 

Right away she tells us she has to go to bed because she has to work a double the next morning. So we’re sitting against the walls in an unfurnished living room, staring at each other and tripping with the lights out.

 

A few hours later two dudes come crashing through the front door. One of the guys starts screaming “who the fuck is in my house!” over and over again while the other guy tries to talk him down. They are both enormous and scary.

 

The girl comes out to explain who we are to him, and now he is DOWN to party. The angry dude is her roommate and the other guy is his boyfriend. We go to the front porch to hang out and see his vehicle, which is a tow truck with a confederate flag painted on the hood. Cars would drive by blasting rap music and he would throw beer bottles and yell racial epithets at them.

 

The next day we played South Carolina. This kid said we could stay at this place after the show and it was the plantation. There was a shrimp boat out back.

 

My bandmate and another guy find a room with rifles and start playing with them. My bandmate tells me “the more you hate guns, the more I love them.”

 

Then there’s a loud bang. In a room across the hall our tour manager yells out “Fuck! I’ve been shot!” We think he’s joking because the gun wasn’t pointed in that direction.

 

The bullet went through the wall, into the hallway where it hit a double paned glass door, and then a fragment of the bullet turned back around at a 45 degree angle, through a door, and into our tour managers leg while he was changing clothes. He’s in his underwear, pants around his feet, bleeding.

 

The gunshot woke up the kids father who was this smooth southern gentleman. He told us we were still welcome to spend the night, but we politely declined and said we’d get a hotel.

 

I went out to the car while the paramedics took the tour manager away. The kid whose house it was offered me oxycodin to calm me down, but I declined.

 

Our tour manager was walking the next day and we bought him a cane.

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