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BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
So, do we have to state intention first or can we just creep in at the end? Like, I want to say I'm down, but then don't want to be laughed at if I don't submit...

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BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER

Dr. Kloctopussy posted:

Hoedown or Throwdown.

Thought: Everyone has to sign up by some arbitrary date. Those who promise and don't deliver get a custom title to that effect.

I say this as someone who didn't post here until I had a near postable draft so I could chicken out if need be.

Yeah, I was rather curious about this myself. Seemed a little unfair to have signups, but also allow people to participate without signing up, thus avoiding ridicule.

Martello posted:

I don't know what you're saying but I'm pretty sure it means you want to enter. Great, you're added to the OP. If you welsh you'll probably end up being The Loser or at least a secondary Loser. Indecision is the worst decision you could make. Post something.

Martello posted:

BirdOfPlay (Keep an eye on this one, it's squirrely)
Dagnabit. :smith:

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
Had to shave 150 words to slip it under. Might've lost something in the transition, but I cut at least 100 in the first edit.

"Blue Ribbon... Potato?" - 981 words
################################

Justin was enjoying his role in Westmoreland County's fair. As the native son that left and came back with the new chemical plant, he had been named Master of Ceremonies for the fair. Most of his duties were of little import and not difficult: turning on the Ferris wheel's lights and drying off Wilma, the diving pig. But he'd rather be wiping down the sow's belly, then being the third member of a deadlocked, potato-judging panel.

The other judges agreed mostly on the order. Patrica's Russet Burbank was heads-and-shoulders above all the others, the skin colorization alone put it in the top 5. Wilford surprised a lot of people with his Atlantic, after a dismal showing in years previous. With Agatha's Red Pontiac rounding out the list simply because nothing was wrong with it. The debate raged about the new resident's potato and it's legality.

“Now, Margaret, I understand your hesitation,” Floyd said. “But it clearly is the superior potato here.” Floyd Callahan was a vegetable judge that traveled around the country.

“But that's clearly the question, is it a potato?” Margaret was the local grocer and had been a judge for the Fair for every year since '79.

The potato in question, or “tuber” as Justin had recently learned, belonged to Hubrecht who was Dutch, but not the Dutch from the est of Pennsylvania. He was some sort of cultivator. It was at Margaret's insistence that he participated in the show, but now it seemed that she didn't even want him to compete. “If we even allowed it to be judged, much less given highest honors, what would that say about about our integrity? How could we tell Jackie that her strawberries aren't a flower, if we consider this... thing a potato?”

“But it's not a strawberry. It's a potato.”

Neither were making much headway and weren't helping Justin make up his own mind. He walked back over to the large specimen. It was almost perfectly egg-shaped and about as big as both of his fists put together. But it was its skin, not size, that really drew him to it, it was crimson without a single dent or divot along it's entire surface. Dull, brown eyes formed a ring around the both ends.

Was it really a potato? Should it be allowed into the show? To Justin, it really wasn't like any he had seen previously. Granted, his experience began and ended at the supermarket. He stroked the spud and felt the same rough skin he felt on all the others he had reviewed that day. And then, it began to giggle.

With a start he quickly surveyed the area and saw the line of children at the cotton candy tent. Potatoes didn't giggle, it was the children, but he still wasn't sure if this was a potato.

“I'm still not fully convinced, Mister Callahan. I'll accept that it's a very fine specimen, but don't think it's a potato.”

“Well, I think we should ask what our honorary Judge thinks.” Floyd said, having long since grown tired of Margaret's stubbornness. “So, Justin, what do you think?”

“Well, I understand both points of view and find merit in both.” He said, still doing coin flips to decide. “A decision such as this, requires a careful and clear approach.” All he could think about was his chemistry eduction and the simple joy of learning what things were made of. And how to find out, when you didn't know. “With that in mind, that I propose cut into it.”

This took his fellow judges by surprise, but it was Floyd that found his voice first. “If it will end the debate, I agree.”

“What, are yinz mad,” said Margaret. “No where in the rules does it allow for the cutting of a potato. Why in '88 the Burtons-”

“Look, Mr. Foster, I've got a knife right here. Let's go ahead and get this done.”

Justin took the knife and unfolded its two-inch blade. “I think this should work, thank you.” He turned towards the stalls and walked to Hubrecht's entry.

Margaret's objections were not only being fallen on deaf ears now, but she also was about to be a party to a serious infraction of the vegetable show. “I, I. I can't believe what I'm seeing here. I'm going to speak to Frank Turner this instant and when he learns about what yinz intend to do.” She stormed off, hoping that her threat was enough to dissuade them, but that would've required either to have heard.

Justin had just barely cut the skin when the screaming started. This time he couldn't just pretend that it was children playing in the nearby midway. It was shrill and so loud, it was the only thing he could hear.

The knife blade slid deeper. Blood began to gush out of the wound he had made. Bright, almost florescent orange and the more that came out, the more the screaming got louder and shriller. Its eyes switched from brown to bright green and doubled in size. The screaming pierced all the way through his brain. He wanted to start cutting, just run away, but his hand continuing cutting.

His vision went red. The fillings in his mouth rattled and broke the teeth that housed them. Blood began to flow from his nose. He finally stopped cutting when his legs gave out.

Justin saw that Floyd had already fallen, but couldn't see Margaret anywhere. The screaming never stopped as his vision went from red to black. The blood from his breaking teeth had begun filling his mouth. He tried to spit it out before he lost consciousness, but couldn't beat the clock. And Hubrecht's potato continuing to scream, even after it had dispatched its attacker.

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER

Nautatrol Rx posted:

Those trying to sneak it under the wire have 10 minutes. The bar has been moved again. When I post the signal, it's over.

Holy crap, I love the Thunderdome.

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
Cut off is two hours early.
Results are delayed.
Both are done to gently caress with contestants.

I love the Thunderdome. :worship: And Monday can't come soon enough.

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
Count me in again.

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
Thunderdome!

"A Harrowing Escape" (498 words)
Having not fully set, the sun still provided enough light for Francine to navigate the unsafe alleys that invested Father's otherwise sterile city. Darting across streets with great caution, she was able to avoid the Uncles only out patrolling for the safety of all Children. Once she had entered Section 7b, it was only a short walk to the riverbank where she would meet Tom, the Outsider.

To Francine, Tom, the Outsider, was an oddly sure man, with a quality making him believe he could do anything, a quality Francine found strange. He dazzled her with ideas of self-sufficiency and the scandalous thought of choosing actions based on personal desires. He tricked her into believing that she had these desires herself and convinced her meet with him at the warehouse.

Finding the door to the warehouse locked, Francine went around to the riverside and saw Tom tying down a small raft. “Do I find you well, Tom Outsider? It is I, Francine, Breeder #57, of the 1st Settlement.”

Looking up from the post, Tom said, “Hello, Francine. Tom's good and you don't need to say all that.” With his raft secured, he started walking over to Francine.

“It is only proper when meeting a stranger. Father says-”

“And quit repeating what ol' Finnigan says. I never liked hearing him blather on and on.”

“But Father saved all his Children and only wants us to be happy. He welcomes-”

Tome grabbed her by both her shoulders. “Francine, you're going to need to stop worrying about Finnigan once we get out of here. After a couple of months being re-educated, you'll find that you-”

She then realized her danger and screamed, interrupting the Outsider. Tom tried to quiet her, but Francine shook free of her would-be captor. She broke into a run, to leave Sector 7b to find help from the Uncles enforcing curfew. When she was only two blocks away, though, the faster and more athletic Outsider tackled her around her midsection.

Hope faded and Francine knew it was surely over. But then, Tom, the Outsider, was bodily thrown off of Francine. Terrified of what sort of new misfortune had found her, she looked up and saw the familiar red and violet stripped suits. Her prays had been answered with the force of a full squad of Uncles.

“Do I find you well, Francine, Breeder #57? It is I, Benjamin, Uncle Second Class, House of Fulton. Your mate, John, Engineer #2, informed us of you breaking curfew to meet with an Outsider.” Francine found herself unable to vocalize her gratitude. “You are probably dealing with some stress related to your ordeal. I'll see that an Aunt provides you with some 46's to complement your daily prescriptions. You need not fear any more though. Father watches over all his Children, even the stray ones, and sends out his Uncles and Aunts to make sure all are doing well.”

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
Well that bodes well. Of course, this is the Thunderdome, there's only a winner if one is worthy of it. :black101:

I say this because I highly suspect that I'm on the chopping block this week.

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER

Martello posted:

BirdOfPlay
“A Harrowing Escape”

Dropping a weight on my toe for what the gently caress this is creepy and oh god :gonk:
Total: Having to lick twenty envelopes in a row and getting three or four paper cuts on my tongue

Stuporstar posted:

Most of you fail this round for not getting the distinction between chick lit and romance. Chick lit is not some 50 Shades of Grey garbage all about goose-honking over a hunka hunka man. It's all about the wimminz. Sure it's pink and pulpy, but many of you are so "eww girl cooties" you couldn't be bothered to come up with strong female characters. I don't think you've been paying attention:
BirdOfPlay
"A Harrowing Escape"

Your female protagonist is so loving weak she needs a man to tell her what to think, but is all confused because some other men already told her what to think. Super creepy, dude.

The story is utter poo poo as presented and I really don't even have a full handle on what it was/is in my mind. My lame excuse is to a patently contrived meaning of the genre being "dystopian chick lit."

I read it as being the chick lit genre as if written by an author in a dystopian society. Since dystopian societies have no need for "useless" art, all stories are, thus, meant to be parables/fables telling the citizens how they should act. The society itself would be misogynistic at its core.

Even so, I missed that mark and the fact that it y'all (as my audience) didn't read it that way is a mark against me, not the audience. As always, long live the Thunderdome.

Even though I probably won't be doing it this week cause I need to do an entry for August's fiction contest. :ssh:

FAKE EDIT: Actually, screw what I just said. The Thunderdome doesn't care and neither do I. :black101:

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
Screw it, I'm in. And I'm not sure who Stanislaw Lem was, I thought he was one of the brothers that wrote Roadside Picnic (was Arduy and Boris Strugatsky) but turns out Solaris was one of his so I was close in that Tarkovsky made a film adaptation. :v:

To the Thunderdome! :black101:

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER
After shaming myself a couple of weeks ago, I'm back in. And yes, I'll write something.

BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER

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BirdOfPlay
Feb 19, 2012

THUNDERDOME LOSER

Zack_Gochuck posted:

:toxx: If I'm not the first person with a losertar to win Thunderdome, I will buy the first person with a losertar to win an avatar of their choice.
Is this the first toxx in the Thunderdome? I haven't been keeping up with the thread since I left in massive disgrace early on. In fact, I'm afraid to sign up again...




SCREW IT, LET'S DO IT! :black101: