I was explaining to the Potentate of my local Shriners club that I had recently wasted a perfectly good Sunday reading Ethan Hawke’s horseshit first novel “The Hottest State” when he said, “If you want awful writing check out this website: http://hometown.aol.com/MaureenPET”.

	There's no picture of Maureen on her website but this is our guess as to her appearance.

I did, and now I know why he is the Potentate. This site is a repository of some of the worst sentences ever conjured by the feeble mind of man, or in this case a woman named Maureen.

Maureen writes amateur “fan fiction” — screenplays written by fans for fans of already existing shows either for fun or to give to producers of these shows for actual professional consideration. This month we are featuring an episode of the old television show Quantum Leap which Maureen wrote entitled “River of Hope”. [ you can read the whole screenplay here ] It’s a long, horrible story in which Dr. Sam Beckett (Scott Bakula) leaps into the body of a gay man in the late 1970s. For your reading pleasure I've included the best (meaning the worst) sentences of Maureen's masterful prose along with my literary commentary:

Ted laughed. The electrical metamorphosis was curling up Sam's spine, and he hugged the dark, gentle man in farewell.

'Electrical metamorphosis'...ahh...yes...

Sam didn't sleep well, but he was unconscious enough not to react when he heard pre-dawn stirrings in the bedroom. In a hazy, dream way he was aware someone was getting dressed, but the bed held him in its comfortable grip and his consciousness couldn't float to the surface.

Huh?

“If there are...influences, it's still you that's being influenced, not the other way around. You're the stronger part, way by far."

Way, by far! I am totally engrossed!

…he wondered if Galloway was a famous artist who had been Swiss-cheesed from his memory

	In Maureen's story, Dr. Sam Beckett leaps back in time into the shittiest story EVER written...

Huh?

Burt…mustered his forces with the aplomb of a seasoned general.

Watch out Tom Clancy, you’ve got competition.

Sam nodded, watching in amazement as Rodney let out a gap-toothed horse laugh…

Huh?

Al wagged his head noncommittally.

Is that even possible?

A current of electricity seemed to flow into Sam through the handshake.

More electricity! This is so poorly written that I’m actually drooling.

Microscopic currents of fear danced on Sam's skin.

Well said.

Sam buried his face in Ted's hairy back…

My spleen is aching from the laughter.

Al looked at his friend uncertainly, noticing the soft confusion on his face.

This sentence confuses me softly.

Sam's head pounded as the pulse of the electronic doorbell in his brain woke him up.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeee!

So much for liking mulled wine. He thought he liked it. Well, he didn't remember not liking it.

So much for liking your story, Maureen. I thought I liked your story. Well, I didn’t remember not liking it.