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  • Locked thread
Jul 29, 2012
Sign me up.


May 28, 2008
I'm getting in on this one. Pretty mediocre at fables but I'll give it a shot.

edit: Unfortunately I have to bow out of this one. Just had too much on my plate and couldn't finish. :(

Thoren fucked around with this message at 05:35 on May 27, 2013

May 1, 2012

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.

Oh god what am I doing :ohdear:

Black Griffon
Mar 12, 2005

In, even though I should devote all my time to my final the 28th. gently caress.

Sep 22, 2005



You will be judged on your use of theme, symbolism, and characterization.
I'm in. Which would be worse? A horrible job at using those two, or a complete lack of use?

magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 22:04 on May 21, 2013

fart particle
May 14, 2013

by toby

Black Griffon posted:

In, even though I should devote all my time to my final the 28th. gently caress.

Let us pray for each other and our grades.

Oct 23, 2010

Legit Cyberpunk

magnificent7 posted:

I'm in. Which would be worse? A horrible job at using those two, or a complete lack of use?

You cannot avoid theme and symbolism. Ride that horse rather than letting it drag you along, a bloody rag in the dust.

Feb 17, 2012
I'm in as well. I can't say I've done anything like this before, but Aesop shouldn't have all the fun.

Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW

Zugswang. It's all Zugzwang. Until he breaks out of it.

The story crushes me until the end, smothering me in smoke and making me feel my stomach turn as the painkillers kick into overdrive. The warmth of the bathwater slips away as blood seeps from the wrist, onion juice stinging almost more than the cuts itself, I can feel it. Until the end, when the heat of the flame fades and I walk, choking, through smoke and into open air with the little human being boy.

Erik Shawn-Bohner posted:

Thunderballs: Eternal President of DPRTD, ESB vs Imperialist Pig, Muffy the Vampire Slayer

Graveyards and gravestones and grave things.

You juxtapose an overgrown cemetery that Charles Dexter Ward would love with the screaming lights and bright sirens of a corporate strip. I see and hear and feel it all as I rush headlong through your tumble of words, until the end when the dirt roads lie open and endless, what fork will he take or will the track lead to another mound of dirt and a hand-carved stone? We don't know.

Winner: Bohner

The Saddest Rhino
Apr 29, 2009

I'm (once again tentatively) in because I like $.

autism ZX spectrum
Feb 7, 2007

by Lowtax
Fun Shoe

autism ZX spectrum
Feb 7, 2007

by Lowtax
Fun Shoe
I've rounded up this week's most bizarre, jarring sentences:

CancerCakes posted:

I. will. end. you., boy.
Period, comma. What the gently caress?

Voliun posted:

"'Raining ideas come, however abrasive rebellions die.'"
Quotes inside quotes, housing a fragment. Like biting into an expired Cream EggTM and finding it full of human poo poo.

JonasSalk posted:

The car, which had been doing about 80 in a school zone, suddenly developed an interest in off road racing.

A narrative dickslap to the face.

Voliun 2: word salad boogaloo


Each time he did, he uttered gently caress until his arm quivered.

autism ZX spectrum fucked around with this message at 03:46 on May 22, 2013

autism ZX spectrum
Feb 7, 2007

by Lowtax
Fun Shoe

Martello posted:

Winner: Bohner

Horrible Butts
May 7, 2012
In in in.

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.
Crits and stuff because HA HA what is sleep.

Nubile Hillock - Mark Zak: Lime & Ice

Boy oh boy, this story. First one out the gate and you went full dudebro.

The writing is competent, I suppose, though you have a few too many commas that needed to be periods, alongside a couple other grammatical foibles, but that's not really the problem here. The whole thing reads like joke that's gone on too long, and what's more a joke you've already heard too many times to remember why it was ever funny. I don't particularly care about any of their characters or their plight even in the spirit of playing along with the joke, and the ending felt more unfinished than anything else. You also pretty much botched even the slightest hint of bittersweetness I was hoping for. The guitar was important to him though, I'll give you that. And for what it is worth, there were a few moments of luminous absurdity ("parked diagonally across six handicap spaces").

You got promise kid, but you totally fell down the stairs into the trash compactor on this one.

Oxxidation - In Focus

Here we go, much better.

Overall a very strong peace, and honestly my fifth favorite beneath the four vying for the title. You nailed the mood I was hoping for and made good use of your item, and you managed to wrap it up in an enchanting, ethereal prose style that made me wonder sometimes whether this was real or not. Unfortunately, that same gently wafting prose also obscured your story a bit. I read it a couple times and got a little bit of a different impression of what was going on, exactly, each time. There are also a few sentences that get tangled up in themselves, and the ending feels a bit, well, expected.

Still, a good piece you'd be right to be proud of.

CantDecideOnAName - Run

Now this one I really wanted to like more than I actually did, though I still liked it a fair bit. You've got a great concept here, a bit rough around the edges in practice, but on paper the kind of premise I would gladly read an entire novel on. Of special note is the haunting feeling of uncertainty you evoke in your protagonist (and thus, your readers), on the run from a beautiful lie he wants to exist but knows cannot, his only guide a newspaper he found by chance. Doesn't quite hit the right notes concerning the sentimentality of the item (more of a psychological dependency, really), but close. Unfortunately it's still a bit unpolished in practice, but tidied up this is a diamond in the rough.

Fart Particle - Spring Break in Suburbia

Nice to see someone joining for a thread that isn't Dangan Ronpa. Now there's a drinking game.

Unfortunately, your story was pretty run of the mill, your characters generic and their actions predictable. Tone-wise the thing came off fairly straightforward without many frills, and I'm not sure how well served your arrowheads were being we picked up literally last week. Also, that ending. See my first sentence again for that.

BUT your story was clear, more or less readable, and went at a decent clip, which is more than can be said for a lot of Thunderdome first timers, so consider that your incentive to stick around and get better. Welcome to Thunderdome.

Sitting Here - All My Little Somethings

Always nice to see an experimental piece, and what's more this one actually kinda works. I think you did yourself a bit of a disservice labeling things Then and Now, as it suggests a lack of confidence in the dialogue to establish its own timeframe. Once you post your first break, you've already established time as a bit more fluid in your story, so don't be afraid to not hold our hand the whole time. Unfortunately, your story gets a little lost just a bit past the middle, which hurt this story a bit in my estimation, but it's nothing a good clean up couldn't cure.

CancerCakes - Mark of Distinction

Character voice should never interfere with my ability (or my desire) to read your story. You've got the crotchety old war veteran turned up a little too loud here, a little too slurred, making a lot of his dialogue painful to read (and brother, in this story it's all dialogue). Your sentence structure is all over the place, and why. would. you. ever. do. this.,?~ Never do that again.

That aside, your taciturn military hero who remembers the battlefield as though it were yesterday comes off as strangely lenient on the dude he just caught banging his daughter. And assuming that's the Up To No Goodness you were trying to weave into the story, it feels more tacked on as a pretext for your narrator to talk about something completely unrelated.

You are capable of better than this. Next time, show me. That's a personal challenge, from one guy who wrote a terrible war story to another.

Systran - Butterfly Dream

This story almost got interesting, but for all its hooks never felt like it had much meat to it. You're throwing tufts of grass in the air for effect, but I can't get a good grasp for the field you're pulling them from. I'm the last person to hold implying setting over telling it against anyone, but you could've used at least a little more concrete grounding.

Your story itself came off a bit soulless, and your prose was decent but riddled with tense problems. What bothered me the most though was how quickly your protagonist changes his tune from wanting to save her to just cherishing her memory. There was no struggle, no tension, simply a revelation, which glossed over a lot that could've made this story meatier.

Kleptobot - Flaming Karma

Hmm, vignettes. Always a sure sign of a last minute entry (and believe me, I should know).

Not much to comment on. A guy does a thing and then it's over. Feels like a single scene from a larger story, but there isn't much about it that makes me care what that larger story might be. Overall, forgettable, but at least you manned up and submitting something. Proud of you son.

Just don't touch my stuff.

Jagermonster - A Prayer

Hey, how about that, another vignette, albeit longer with a bit more at stake. Also better written, with two characters I could actually kinda get into. Neat. No real narrative arc to speak of though, which hurts it despite having a semi-workable conclusion. Also the object in this case is not actually important to any of the characters involved, but instead to some nebulously defined offstage Christians. There's some groundwork here for an internal struggle, a man forced to choose between his own life and the lives of those he's only vaguely familiar with, but you don't do much with it. Still, moderately enjoyable.

Nikaer Drekin - The Silver Star and the Setting Sun

Two natives of Exposition Central have a conversation between bars. Okay. I like what you did with the item, and the futility of the father and the son's feud against the sheriff does well to feed the mood, but otherwise let me tell you everything you need to know to bring you up to speed on how you are supposed to feel about everything that has happened. Also, mustache twirling. Few villains can get away with it and still be taken seriously; yours doesn't.

Crabrock - Bee For Two

Eh. Eh. Decent enough submission I suppose. Solidly in the middle of the pack. A bit muddled at points though, and feels like it loses itself a bit by the time it reached the end. The sealed envelope feels largely like an after though, like I could've given you anything and the old woman could've simply kept it for whatever reason. Not bad, not great, not really much of anything.

MonkeyboyDC - Two kinds of spurs

I'm not sure what Big Brother future you're running here that a full night's sleep constitutes a potentially criminal offense, but what do I know. Overall a fairly silly story where not much is really established or accomplished. Certainly wasn't melancholy, and I didn't really get much out of the spurs beyond this guy's dad having a serious crush on cowboys.

It has a nice energy to it though, for all its shortcomings. I'd encourage you to write more, as I get the feeling there's a niche you just haven't found to fill yet. This prompt, however, wasn't it.

Voliun - Encrypted

Nobody talks like this, but I suppose that's not really relevant when I can't be bothered to care about what your characters are saying in the first place. Or what's happening. A heist of some kind over an object of nominal importance to anyone, least of all the characters swiping it. Of all the stories submitted this week, this was the only one I felt was wasting my time (and remember this is following in the footsteps of a dudebro beerpong high society piece). Please try again.

DoubleDonut - The Gentleman and the Lady

I'm sure you've heard of saying a lot with a little. This story is the exact opposite of that. You've given yourself a lot of leeway to set up things that could honestly be handled in sentences, build up to an event where you could've honestly started and finished your story. As it is, the world you've set this in is too vague to get a good handle on, as are the characters and their reasons for doing anything. Finally your item feels less like a memento and more like hand-me-down. There's a story in here somewhere with everything I asked for, but you haven't done a very good job excavating it.

Next time, try starting the story right as they're breaking in, or directly after. See where that takes you.

Martello - The Big Jump

A solid submission, though I'll admit I was hoping the sun hat would give you something less hardboiled to write around. You're a decent writer when you want to be Martello, but a lot of your stuff comes off reading the same. You didn't this time, but sometime I would like to see you write a little more outside your comfort zone.

Cpt. Mahatma Gandhi - Montevo-Figo

I've gotta be honest with you. My first time through the slush pile, this was my standout favorite without question. Unfortunately, subsequent rereads found it not quite up to the snuff presented by the other top tier competitors, but nonetheless this is a good piece, and under a different prompt might've even been the winner. Unfortunately, the notebook I entrusted you with ended up being less important in and of itself and more simply illustrative of the main character's dilemma, so I had to dock you points on a technicality (though it is otherwise a good use of the object you'd been given).

Thunderdome isn't the place for gushing, so I won't say too much more. I will say though you made the right choice leaving the ending open. It doesn't matter whether or not we know what our hero decided, only that he did decide, and resolved himself to live with the consequences.

JonasSalk - Dead Donít Talk

Stuff happened and people died doing 80 in a school zone (what). There is an item but really, do we care? Overall very ho-hum. I would say more but, honestly? This feels like a minimum effort submission. You didn't even bother to work in a bad chess pun. Very disappointing.

Dr. Kloctopussy - Fundamental Particulars

A reasonably well-written piece, though the item feels more like scenery, and I'm not sure I would equate dabbling in superstition as up to no good. Your opening and ending are a bit wishy washy, but the heart of it, the flashbacks between numbers, is very solid, and makes up for what other narrative shortcomings this piece has.

SurreptitiousMuffin - Just Not Cricket

I'm gonna get some flak for this, but honestly I really don't care.

Muffin, your prose is impeccable. You present a strong narrative voice, and your poetic background is evident in a lot of your phrasing. You have a good sense for storytelling and progression when you feel like telling a story, and your verbal illustrations are wonderful. In terms of pure skill, both technically and artistically, you are easily and consistently among the upper echelons of people who post in this thread. So why the loss?

I could say I didn't really get the feeling of melancholy seeded throughout the story like I hoped. Really it comes across more like a slice of life story, the kind of thing everyone involved will be laughing about a week later none the worse for the wear. A true shot left of its target, while still impressive, is still a miss. But that's not the whole story.

Although the majority of items I assigned on a whim, there were a couple I handpicked specifically to challenge their authors, people I thought could handle the change of pace or the oddly specific. You were one such person. Your challenge wasn't to write about baseball or even to write about a baseball, but to include a baseball that was itself a meaningful object to someone within it for whatever reason. But rather than play the hand you were dealt, you decided to go with something else, something more familiar to you, because you wanted to write specifically about something and couldn't be bothered to fit it in with your original prompt. A minor change, to be sure; a cricket ball is not so far removed from a baseball. But nonetheless, you stepped down from the challenge you were issued to tackle something you considered more manageable. Which is fine, and in a vacuum without shame. If I were a magazine editor and this story came across my desk, I would accept it. But in a thread such as the Thunderdome, I won't let you move your goal posts closer only to revel in victory over your competitors who ran the full length of it.

Some people will probably say I was wrong to do this. You might think so too. But this was my call to make.

And again, judged only against itself, this is still a wonderful story. You're a good writer Muffin, and you can take that to the bank (though you'll have to stand in line after Sebmojo).

Noah - The Beast in the Woods

Probably the most pleasant of surprises I could've had this week. You had V for Vegas' vote long before I ever got around to reading this one myself, and though I thought I knew where this was going early on, you still managed to impress me with the delivery and execution of it. Of special note is how you simultaneously have parts of the story happening in the future of the present, such as cutting away from what people said to what it turns out they will say, which makes the story feel both larger and more compact at the same time. The mood was perfect. The use of the item was sublime. I remember you lost some long time ago, and you've come a long way. Wear your Thunderdome crown with pride, young egret, for as with all things victory is fleeting.

Fumblemouse - Forgetting Clementine

Despite the fact that your submission was quite literally neck and neck with Noah's for first place for a good ten to fifteen minutes of mental deliberation, I'm afraid I don't have a whole lot to specifically comment on. Your writing is tight and you present a solid picture of a neurotic man and the gun he's grown so fond of, and the portrait of possibility he has pledged his love to. If I had to pick at anything, it's that I personally hate first person present tense, but that's just me. You're a good man Fumblemouse. Keep at it.

Chairchucker - Why I Was Unable to Submit on Time: The 100% Real and not at all Fabricated Account of Chairchucker's Excuse for Tardiness

Now this was a good bit of funny. Broke the mood completely, but gave me a good chuckle, which honestly after several pages worth of melancholic writing was something I probably needed. You have a distinct narrative voice that gives the character a life of his own, and though thoroughly silly, I felt it never detracted from the piece. Also you've got that Count avatar, so for some reason I imagined him in your place as narrator.

Good work Chairchucker. You might not have won this week, but you won my heart.

Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 10:14 on May 22, 2013

Oct 23, 2010

Legit Cyberpunk

I note with displeasure that some have evaded the losertar's sticky kiss. This has been rectified.

Erogenous Beef
Dec 20, 2006

i know the filthy secrets of your heart
I don't have time to enter this week, but I want to poo poo out some fiction anyway. So...

:siren: Kaishai, you defeated me during the Week of the Long Wait. I demand a rematch. Thunderbrawl, thy name invoked. :siren:

Chairchucker has pre-agreed to judge. Submission deadline one week post-prompt.

Sep 22, 2005


sebmojo posted:

I note with displeasure that some have evaded the losertar's sticky kiss. This has been rectified.
I still don't have one. My loss was just THAT GOOD. in CAPS! And italics. Lots of italics and CAPS.

Sep 22, 2008

Wine can of their wits the wise beguile,
Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile.
What the hell, it's about time I participate. Count me in on the fable/parable deal.

Mar 21, 2010
Why the hell not. In.

Feb 13, 2011

The cries of the dead are terrible indeed; you should try not to hear them.
Do I ever hate writing fables. In nevertheless.

Nov 3, 2010

Scoffing at modernity.

Erogenous Beef posted:

I don't have time to enter this week, but I want to poo poo out some fiction anyway. So...

:siren: Kaishai, you defeated me during the Week of the Long Wait. I demand a rematch. Thunderbrawl, thy name invoked. :siren:

Chairchucker has pre-agreed to judge. Submission deadline one week post-prompt.

A chance to feed you your keister again, judged by Count von Count himself? It's like Christmas! :neckbeard:

I'll see you in the arena, bro. And because I like a challenge, I'm in for this week as well.

Nov 6, 2009
In because prize on the table even though there is a minimal chance I'm walking out alive with this competition.

Dr. Kloctopussy
Apr 22, 2003

"It's DIE!"
In for fable week.

Truman Sticks
Nov 2, 2011
Never done one of these before, but I'm in. Here's to the first of many embarrassments by my own hands!

May 31, 2011

Come at me baby bitch
Also everyone will receive a full crit. Not line by line, but a detailed break down of what worked, and what did not.

Oct 22, 2010

Fallen Rib
I know I already entered, but count me out, please. I just realized there's no way I'll be able to actually write anything this week.

Or don't, I guess, but either way I'm not gonna submit anything this week.

Nov 14, 2006

to ride eternal, shiny and chrome


Kaishai posted:

A chance to feed you your keister again, judged by Count von Count himself? It's like Christmas! :neckbeard:

I'll see you in the arena, bro. And because I like a challenge, I'm in for this week as well.

Oh OK. Well then. Erogenous Kaishai brawl rules:

Write me a fairytale.

No hard word count, just don't write so many words that I start resenting you, or it will definitely count against you.

You've got a week plus twelve hours from now. Go!

V for Vegas
Aug 31, 2004

What I was thinking as I read Voliunís story.

"'Raining ideas come, however abrasive rebellions die.'"

Strong start with a nonsensical series of words that means nothing whatsoever. I am confused, but hopeful that my confusion will be cured by a rational explanation of what this random gibberish means. It worked for Faulkner in The Sound and the Fury, didnít it? Holding that hope in my heart, I move on to the next sentence.

Tracy McKenzie Aha, Ms McKenzie. We meet at last. stared at the ceiling? and read the text message the text message must be on the ceiling. Clever plot point. on her smart phone Oh. No ceiling then. "Is this the warning from your lookout, Jericho?" she asked.

My hopes have been answered already! The random gibberish is in fact a supersecret code used by Tracey McKenzieís colleague, who obviously needs a Ďlookoutí. Spylicious!

A blond sculptured how do you sculpture blond? Hang on, you mean a blond COMMA sculptured man sculptured like what? A Rodin? Is he made out of marble. Letís read onÖ looked over at her. "I told that moron to text me if our cover is blown but Oh my gosh I have totally forgotten who, out of the total of two people in this scene, is talking right now. I hope Voliun takes this moment to remind me," he said, Nice Save! "all security systems had been I guess using the word Ďwereí here didnít scan well disabled three minutes ago. There's no way we've been made I hope I am made one day that quick." Hmmmm, no explanation as to the Jibber Jabber. The mystery deepens. His hands twisted and turned each combination knob twisting and turning knobs Jericho, but we only just met! on the bolted safe Aha, here is the problem, bolts donít use combinations, get your hands off those knobs Jericho!. Leaning closer toward the middle knob? Bolt? Safe? Which noun is being referred to here? Iím sure Voliun will clear that up as soon as I look at the next word one oh, Jericho plucked a harp? his fingers at it the harp?.

Click. Click. Bang Must be out of tune.

Tracy and Jericho jerked their heads back Looking up at the ceiling again. Must be a new text message. Both hugged their backs against the wall so their limbs and heads have now done a complete 180 and are now facing backwards when a part of the ceiling collapsed near the hallway's oh, theyíre in a hallway, I thought they were floating in a void next to a knobbly safe only sliding glass entrance You mean non-sliding glass has to enter around the back, thatís glassism. They looked at each other and back at the hole. "Is there supposed to be a demo crew here too?" said Tracy. So Tracey and Jericho, our esteemed knob twiddlers are meant to be in the building? They must work there and are having a dalliance during lunch.

Jericho faked a smile. "Ha. Ha. Jericho is a robot. Good to know. Who would schedule one on a new office? " He pulled his vibrating cellphone out of a pocket ooh, which pocket? Iím guessing he has one on his shoulder and flipped it open. His smile faded <end smile routine>. "'After she hush first, obey reform documents.' HOLY poo poo MORE JIBBER JABBER. There is DEFINITELY something mysterious going on now. Quick, next sentence Did your text came from a blocked number?"

"Yeah why?"

"Chuey's punch it Chewy! number isn't masked it never gets invited to masquerade balls I guess, but I'm not leaving without that code." The macguffin has appeared. I am sure this 'code' will become an integral part of the storyJericho went back to the safe and resumed with the knobs I assume. Robots dig that stuff. "For all the latest tech this building holds so far a collapsed ceiling and a glass door. What happened to that ceiling anyway, did someone go check it out or was it just an inconsequential event that meant nothing to the story?, this safe's locks are old fashioned just because these knobs donít want you twiddling them on the first date, doesnít make them old fashioned. If only I had my bolt cracker and more time." As he carefully turned the first knob, the door's bolts receded well what do you know. Jericho's face lightened while he pushed the door Iím guessing there are lights in the safe. His face became awestricken not as awestricken as my face reading this sentence, I bet whatever is in that safe is so mindblowingly incredible I am going to explode as soon as I read it. Hang on a sec Voliun while I prepare myselfÖ. OK, be gentle. Now , HIT ME! as he saw an empty space behind the door. Oh dear.

Jericho took out the only thing within it so that space wasnít so empty huh?, a long shafted oh my key. Tracy almost tripped over her heels catching it when he tossed it to her."Of all the things we are stealing from a hedge fund office, it has to be a what would be the most ironic thing to steal from a hedge fund office? A hedge maybe? Is that what he is going to say? key." Oh.

"Hold on to it as if I were going to-the most tragically cut short sentence I have ever read. What was he going to say? ĎHold onto it as if I were going to insert it up my anus ??? " Jericho turned left as he heard a security camera moved itself to face Tracy The cameraís have faces! And dead eyes, like a dollís eyes. The HUD light on the camera was red and blinking. He grabbed Tracy's hand. "Somebody's recording us, poo poo!" Should have left the comma out of that sentence.

"Didn't the whole staff have the day off?" Tracy said. Good point Tracey! Cameras only operate when staff are around, whatís the point of surveillance when no one is there?

Jericho jiggled lol, you said jiggled the door's handle before slamming his elbow against the glass. That drat hi-tech glass door again Each time he did, he uttered gently caress until his arm quivered. I have never sworn so much I get a twitch, but whoís to say it couldnít happen? A few kicks and back slams later recall his head and arms are still twisted back to front, the lock picker a he or an it? shattered the glass Take that stupid door!. Each camera in the hallway faced them oh god, the dolls, they can see me as they ran to the elevator. "Take the fire exit, Tracy!"

"We're not supposed to separate!"

"That code can't be changed again either!" Now they have a code? I thought they had a key? Jericho shoved Tracy, and he waved his arms like a big goose. "Lose it and we can't open that drat locker!" Hang on, thereís a locker? What Locker? Oh you are so frustrating and confusing and handsome Jericho, and this heist has worked perfectly so far except for the random jibber jabber and cameras that look like dolls. But your sculptured body reminds me of a summer I once spent in Montpellier, laughing at the disfigured dwarf in the main square. I am looking forward to our dinner together, let me just check my calendar, when was it on again? Oh thatís right -

"Fine, are we still on for seven o' clock?"

Jericho's face shriveled up this is the direction my balls are going reading this. "Go! I'll be waiting on you at your table outside!" He kept pressing the down arrow as Tracy ran to the left.

While Tracy ran, she felt the key vibrating in her pocket Iíve been there. Reasons to not answer the phone came just as quick as reasons to answer it Is the phone ringing? I missed that. There were was no reason for her to doubt somebody from security came back in. The more she thought about that, the more Tracy felt something was off Iím getting the same feeling. Wouldn't the alarm go off by now The one that was disabled earlier? There was the silent alarm, but Chuey Punch it Chewy! was outside to see...

Oh. Oh.

Tracy made an abrupt stop at the next bus-stop. She scanned for any possible blind spots as she noticed three cameras dolls turning themselves on Hello Smithers. When they began to move, Tracy resumed her career in running. Her mind were was blank as to where to go. A sharp turn to the right I thought people could only turn left in this story revealed a black thatís racist stairway ahead with a single camera doll above it. A gust of energy lifted her legs up as Tracy so now sheís floating? ran on air and kept her bank balance.

She lunged up toward a step oh god when she heard a loud clang !?. Dust swept into her face, making her body flinch while falling She was knocked over by dust?. Her cellphone slipped quietly out of this story to go meet up with some friends at a bar and try to lie to them about where it had been. In a voliun story? Ha no, sorry donít know what youíre talking about mate, who's round is it anyway?. Tracy watched the rest of the crumbled ceiling tiles where were the other ones? after falling on her back. As she reached to the phone didnít make it out in time, Tracy saw a text message under a jagged crack.


The unblocked number has a name, Chuey, punch it Chewy! by it. Tracy pushed herself up and limped out a door a glass door?. A huge red and white sign in the middle of this sentence stuck out like an obvious ache like the one on her back like the one about two inches behind my eyes. Using her hip, she pushed the door open the one she just limped out off?. Her lungs welcomed the dusk breeze. She took a look at her phone, and she walked down the stairs no lunging?. As she got lower, she heard scuffling.

Tracy ran, but the sound of a muffled gunshot stopped her. She could hear Jericho's voice in her mind as she heard another voice in her mind telling her to burn them, burn them all. Snatching the key out of her pocket, she heard Chuey punch it Chewy! and him laughing and clanking their beer jugs together last week. That hand numbed as her fingers failed to feel any cold metal on their tips Tracey is also a robot.

She looked behind or forward, as her head is still twisted around and saw a man wearing a black blazer. He stared back at her while another shot rang a psychiatric ward. Admittance, one. A loud cracking sound gave her seconds to live realize that was her cellphone. Tracy watched him walk back toward the door and bend over oh my. As he entered the building, he pocketed the key that is in Traceyís hand and sheathed his pistol within the jacket that he was wearing on top of his blazer. An alarm blurted out that it was gay and moving to Canada was followed by a louder horny alarm.

"Tracy, hurry the hell up! Can't have the fire department putting out our celebration dinner!" Good point, firemen are terrible waiters.

Tracy looked down at the parking lot and saw Jericho motioning her to come with Chuey punch it Chewy! banging on the horny alarm. The numbness shook her fingers while reminding her of a pair of numbers. That was pushed aside as the fire alarm reverberated into her ears, forcing her to run toward the car. I give up.

When she got in Tracy asked, "Don't you think the numbers on the key are part of the code?"

"Numbers? I didn't notice any," Jericho said. Neither did I. Or any explanation for the random bullshit at the start of the story

"They are eighteen and one."

"Worry about all of that later," Chuey Punch it Chewy! said, "We have an overdue dinner to go to."

Apr 9, 2012
conquistador wuz heer

I'll throw my hat in the ring.

Chernobyl Princess
Jul 31, 2009

It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.

:siren:thunderdome winner:siren:

I think I can try to write a fable.

Oct 10, 2007

Can you see that I am serious?
Fun Shoe
I'm in.

Nikaer Drekin
Oct 11, 2012

Aaaagh, the prompt is awesome and the prize tempting, but I'm going to be extremely busy this weekend and will have to count myself out. I will keep an eye on your lit mag though, Noah; I'd be very interested in submitting a piece for a future issue.

Jan 9, 2012

When SEO just isn't enough.
God dammit I suck at fables but I've been wanting to throw down in the Thunderdome for a while.

So yes, I'm in.

Aug 2, 2002




In for losertar

Nov 5, 2009

Now that I have this dating robot I can take it easy.
I'm all up ins this

Jan 26, 2013
I'm in.

Mike Works
Feb 26, 2003
gently caress it, I'm in. First Thunderdome for me.

Oct 23, 2010

Legit Cyberpunk

We do what we must, because we can.



Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010

If you must blink, do it now.
I'm out. Got a trip here soon that goes just past the deadline. If you'd like it though, Noah, I can help with the judging. Thirty-something submissions is a lot for one dude to parse.

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