It’s harder to write a bad opening line than I thought. I take this as a good sign.
Here are two more lines I wrote for the Bulwer-Lytton contest. I wrote these in Taco Bell; I wonder what sort of output I could expect from McDonald’s or Burger King?
“His penis was like a throbbing pink rocket about to blast off, only it was waiting for the astronauts to board it, but they never would board it, and by that I mean that he was sterile.”
“Emma was a bad girl, bad like the one last pickle in a jar that’s been out all day during a hot summer church picnic where everyone’s making out in the grass over by the bandstand that needs to be repainted.”