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Martello posted:gently caress off THUNDERDUEL: SEBMOJO vs ERIK SHAWN-BOHNER ESB - no alcohol or swearing, and the protagonist has to be an upbeat person with a positive outlook on life. Include a Bar Mizvah. sebmojo - no cyberpunk or technoir or whatever the gently caress it is we write. Protagonist needs to be a pregnant female. Include a Muslim call to prayer. Old Toys by Erik Shawn-Bohner You managed to make the protagonist upbeat while still making the story sad. Good job you depressing, alcoholic, negative-minded bastard. The Bar Mizvah is cursory, a background note. You already told me why, and I'll give you partial credit for at least making it an event and not just something mentioned in passing. Still, you could have done more with it. You had ~250 more words, why didn't you use them to expand on the theme a bit? Jess clearly has cancer. You did a nice job of showing it instead of just telling us. But there's a lot that you didn't tell us or show us. Who is this woman that she has this past relationship with Jake's father? Were they neighborhood kids who played with Ninja Turtles together? I'm just not feeling the backstory there. And what the gently caress is this Erik Shawn-Bohner posted:sad grey curls Are you some kind of commonwealth-spelling fanfic writing anusgobbler? Holy gently caress. The end leaves me with a bit of a sad feeling, which is good, but it's nice that Jess is doing things for people in her last days. Overall it was a tight, competent story. Not that I expected anything else. But it ultimately doesn't live up to its potential. In Flame by sebmojo So this was late I guess, not that it mattered since I was asleep well before the deadline. I'm just gonna ignore it because I can do whatever I want. You really embraced the prompt and ran with it. Shabina wasn't just pregnant, she was pregnant. It wasn't incidental to the plot, it was the plot. Lacing the Shahada through the story was very effective. It reminds me of something I wrote years ago in college with a priest remembering his life with the Pater Noster laced throughout. You did it much better though. The tension is definitely there. You can feel Shabina's inner turmoil, see Jack's misery and sorrow at being dumped. There were a few missteps, though. You spelled Shabina "Shabine" once, missed a few quotation marks, some other typographical errors here and there. I completely identify, since I submit everything right on or over the wire. But a single editing pass would most likely have fixed all of those problems. I'm not sure about the ending. It's almost too tidy. The extremist cousin blows up the coffee shop, getting rid of Jack and possibly killing Shabina, almost certainly aborting the baby. Does it really matter that the cousin saw her there now? If she was still alive but had to go back to Sayyid it might have had a little more tension and 'what's gonna happen next' quality at the end. It's not that I don't like the ending now, I just think you could have played it a bit differently. JUDGMENT The winner is sebmojo. His story had more emotion, more action, was ultimately a better read. Enjoy your street cred or whatever you get from winning this poo poo. bitch
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Apr 28, 2013 16:55
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JudgmentSome Strange Flea posted:i can't even Okay, so I actually liked this but only at the end. It's a good twist joke ending and I actually chuckled a bit. But holy gently caress dude, almost 1500 words just for a throwaway joke ending about a loving iPhone? Cut this poo poo way down and we'd be going somewhere. It's bloated as gently caress as it stands now. Sitting Here posted:This is dedicated to Giorgio A. Tsoukalos Earth's Children fanfic lol. But it's actually pretty good. Not sure about alternate history unless the alternate timeline involves Neanderthal supplanting Cro-Magnon instead of the other way around. I liked it a lot though, I felt the frantic movement and panic of Calfskin and you pulled off the primitive human thing with the narration and language. Sitting Here takes it. gently caress all of you I have no time for you cocksuckers (I'll finish crits and judging tomorrow)
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Apr 30, 2013 02:08
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Apr 30, 2013 13:24
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Nice, you deserve it. As proud as I am of that avatar - Fanky had the initial idea for the record - I was starting to feel bad that you had such an awful one for so long.
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Apr 30, 2013 15:41
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kazakirinyancat posted:First Alliance Holy gently caress dude If I gave this a line-by-line it'd be almost every single line. Your narration is stiff, unnatural, and bloated as gently caress. You're either an ESL speaker or a 14 year old with poor social skills. Please be the first one. Generic fantasy elves and goblins and humans with armor. I've never seen this before oh wait a million times and  zakucat posted:kazakirinyancat vs. zakucat What in the everloving gently caress is this poo poo? So much telling, apparent time-skips that make no sense and aren't explained or necessary, random characters that are never fleshed out or given any sense of identity. Holy gently caress. When is this set and where? The random names make no sense, there's a reference to "science books" and tribesmen and who knows what the gently caress. Did you just throw in the cats eating the mushroom-killed girl at the end as an afterthought to fulfill the prompt? In short, You guys both suck so bad that neither of you win. Holy gently caress I'm going to the gym. The rest of you will have to wait while I take out my editorial rage on heavy metal objects.
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Apr 30, 2013 22:12
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Apr 30, 2013 22:13
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Kleptobot posted:An introduction to Shatranj (WC: 808) I wish you never said the word "chess." I mean, it's pretty loving obvious that shatranj is chess, but it's nice to come to the realization on my own. You loving cockmongrel. Overall, I enjoyed the story. It was easy to read, there was nothing horribly clumsy or incompetent. It's a nice little vignette but I don't get a great sense of the characters. What you did was write a memoir-style piece, which is okay but I don't think the memoir format is really very viable anymore. Not bad, but didn't blow my dick. CancerCakes posted:God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen The house had become a warzone. gently caress you, you loving oval office! Don't TELL us it'd become a warzone. SHOW us that! Start us right off with the action, motherfucker! Holy poo poo. Television, much like fear, is a mind-killer. You throw too many characters at us. Mention the kids in passing, cuz who the gently caress cares about kids? Then really get into the characters of Nicholas and Gerald. The story is really about them, after all. As it is, the skeleton of their characters are weaker than a pair of old, shaky, incontinent men with familial superiority on their slowly addling minds. Overall, not bad, and the ending was surprisingly upbeat. I was interested in the characters and how it was gonna end, but I wanted more. CancerCakes takes it, but only by a narrow margin. Both stories were basically competent, but at least Cakes made me care just a little bit about his characters.
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May 1, 2013 01:55
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Noah posted:Noah vs Fumblemouse What the gently caress is going on in this story? The dude's some kind of explorer or whatever, I guess he's in NZ? He gets kidnapped by natives and is apparently part of a prophecy. Oh man, the great white explorer is a god to the poor natives. I mean, I get that poo poo happened irl but you couldn't possibly pay me to care about that kind of story. There's just not enough of a human component. The only character with any kind of depth is the narrator, and he seems like a douche so I don't want to read about him. Mella might be interesting if you made her a person but she's just a plot point. And how the gently caress does she walk through the sand without leaving footprints? Is she a ghost? I dunno man, this thing was decent enough as far as the craft of writing, but at the end I was left cold. Fumblemouse posted:Fumblemouse vs Noah Okay, so you didn't need 1560 words for this. The first third of the story is filler, leading up to the payoff. The infodump about the simulator was semi-intersting, but only semi. You could have gotten the point across with just a few sentences, gotten right into the action of the narrator and Stevens exploring the simDesert with the Oculus Rift. But it's okay, because you actually got me to care about these weird digital animal-people penisworm things. Pro tip - call them penisworms. Way better than fingerworms. You got me to care about them and feel bad when they get digitally nuked. Pare it down more next time though. Fumblemouse takes this one. He made me care not only about characters in his story, but characters in his story that weren't even real. Noah couldn't do that with his dickhead explorer protagonist or his cardboard noble savage hottie.
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May 1, 2013 02:22
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 Overall JudgmentOverall, my winner is Fumblemouse.
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May 1, 2013 02:23
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May 1, 2013 22:47
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The kat people. Both losers.
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May 1, 2013 23:07
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Sitting Here posted:reasons 
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May 4, 2013 17:55
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It won't ever be. Remember that, future judges. 
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May 4, 2013 23:10
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sebmojo posted:Flabbergasting Science Wonder Yarns! quote:Ugnauts are closing fast, Captain http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ugnaught  quote:“Does ‘subjunctivising entropic quality sink’ mean… what I think it does?” Obviously.  quote:Twenty eight minutes later Brock’s sleek starship still lay at rest, its nuclear fires damped and sullen. All the best ray gun gothic ships run on nuclear fire. quote:Brock leaned over, said a silent prayer to St Armstrong and punched the launch stud.  Beautifulquote:They laughed, together, as the Resilient punched a diamond bright hole in the night. Great cheesy ending too. Really good poo poo right here. gently caress you, Bohner, I'm in a very good mood right now and have nothing negative to say.
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May 6, 2013 20:07
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Taking the shot.
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May 6, 2013 20:24
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Wasn't even a doublepost. loving n00bs
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May 7, 2013 12:35
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everyone shut up and give 'mojo the win everything else and everyone else was poo poo qed
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May 7, 2013 19:18
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or is it ipso facto
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May 7, 2013 19:18
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Nubile Hillock posted:it's actually: shut up, turdmonger lol that's not even latin you idiot
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May 7, 2013 23:50
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May 8, 2013 00:42
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May 10, 2013 01:05
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buttholes with penises in them pulsing with sexual energy and blood dripping down wax hot and drippy and waxy loving candles fuckcandles all kinds scented and non burnin at both ends like a double penetration wendigos like mandingos with long black cocks slamming in assholes and Massholes driving on them roads like motherfucking chodes eating flesh and pussy motherfucking cushy jobs we got here offices working on keyboards and sometimes posting on message boards more well known as forums in this day and age thunderdome is crawling to the sixty-seventh page history of a browser all over the net going from gay sex hardcore to that cat climbing the door all kinds of content sexual and not and really the question is does t-dog think shes hot or does she just smoke weed sitting on a bed thinking about how life sucks and really gently caress that eat some pizza drink coffee and go for a sunday drive its motherfucking spring and the sky is beautiful with blue and the sun and eat a hotdog on a cocksucking bun my sideburns are long but only to the bottom opening of the ear because its a mere inch lower and i get yelled at quoted the regs and I'm like dude gently caress you I've got this company on lockdown this guidon is mine motherfucker i'll stab your behind with the spear point and that's the point just stay out of my poo poo I've got this go gently caress your weird romanian wife while she makes faces tourettes and poo poo don't know if she swears but for real bitch who gets married in front of wooden bears no wonder you two get so many stares wiry hair more like a fiery dare go jump in that pit those flames don't mean poo poo motherfucking skit is about a dog who got bit by a man the headlines read man bites dog like a loving paradox and my one uncle like a typical wop works down at the docks stroke what the gently caress is that a joke maybe less green and more playing xbox and making GBS threads in the toilet instead of the hottub holy poo poo were you raised by wolves they always ask but why not monkeys or apes or even loving dolphins wolves might be social but human they ain't these sayings man alive who understands them anyway and bill talent is leading the way with those tunes and those beats and those motherfucking wheats the mini kind with frosting oh gently caress that shits good take it of a morning and you defecate solid wood comes out of your rear end like soft serve paid for with cash fire bro i already talked about fire don't get stuck in the mire of thought repetitive like telletubbies what the gently caress were those things anyway seriously what kind of parent lets their kid watch that kind of trash just makes me want to mash the loving tv and holy gently caress kids should be outside instead of sitting on hide watching little alien babies with screens stead of johnsons holy poo poo parents wake the gently caress up and take notice your children have brains that become like a locus for creativity and it's not just about nativity now get the gently caress outside and hit your bro with a stick if that kind of thing makes you feel a little sick maybe sack up and back up and man up and harden (the gently caress) up and get back out there on that field with your fists up and out and go go go smash your opponent out
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May 10, 2013 01:07
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One of my dudes was in a combatives match today and got DQd because he kicked a dude in the chin. I don't know how that's possible.
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May 10, 2013 01:11
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 edit - #thunderdome
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May 10, 2013 01:28
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In. For real this time.
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May 14, 2013 13:19
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You can't make "rules." ESB stop being a pussy bitch and post your brawl with Muffin.
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May 14, 2013 17:28
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I liked your story, 'Cakes. I wouldn't say it was my style, but I could call it your style in a crazier corner of my world.
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May 14, 2013 19:48
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You got it pal.
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May 14, 2013 21:43
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:Looks like we need us a judge. Got you. Tomorrow.
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May 19, 2013 01:35
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Bad Seafood posted:Okay.
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May 19, 2013 17:17
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The Big Jump 812 words "What's this?" Detective Baylor held up a sun hat. Child-sized, silk and wire ivy woven through the straw. "A hat," Leo said. "I can loving see that." Baylor spun the hat on the table. The straw was broken in places, brittle with age. The silk ivy leaves were frayed and tattered. "Why was it found in your heap, is my loving question? "Left it on the seat." Leo leaned back in his chair. "Goddamnit, listen here." Baylor leaned forward on his end of the metal table, a long finger up. "I love breaking up tough mugs like you. Just give me an excuse." Red veins pulsed in his melted-candle nose. Baylor liked his six Budweisers a night. "You want me to shoot straight, stop playing games." Leo's tan eyes were dead. "Shot fuckin straight enough last night, didn't you?" Leo showed him all his teeth. "Sure I did. I was aiming to kill." "So you admit you whacked her on purpose?" Baylor licked his thumb and opened his notebook. His pig-eyes were sodium flame, his pen poised above paper like a dagger ready to strike. " 'Whacked,' like I'm a mafioso." Baylor cut the air with his pen. "You're related to enough of 'em. Half you Martellos are mobbed up in this burg." Leo waved a hand. "Sure. You wanna know about the hat?" Baylor squinted. "I thought we were getting to you knocking off the old broad?" "One and the same." Leo pointed. "That hat, it was my kid sister's. When I got sent to the home in Paterson -- after my parents were killed, you understand -- she got sent over to the nice place for little girls in Englewood." "Mrs. Varner's joint." Baylor smiled to show how clever he was. "I can see why they promoted you," Leo said. Baylor exploded out of his chair and was around the metal table in a second. He grunted like a hog as his fist smashed into Leo's jaw. Leo's head snapped to the right, his neck wrenching. "Watch your loving yap, baby." Leo strained against his cuffs for just a second, then relaxed. He rotated his head, made sure his neck wasn't broken. "I'll watch it, I guess." "I hope you don't," Baylor said. He went back to his chair and sat down, his face redder than before. "So she was at Varner's joint." "Yeah, Varner's hellhole." Leo focused on a spot just above Baylor's left eyebrow. His throat was full of cement and his vision was swimming. "The old lady, she liked little girls all right. Too much. Maria told me stories over the years, plenty of them." Baylor's eyes went wide. "You're telling me Melinda Varner played with those little girls?" He wiggled an index finger. "Not just that. She had friends, older men." Leo paused to spit on the floor. "She'd bring them around sometimes, only for the girls she really liked. Maria was one of them." Baylor scratched his chin and shut his notebook. "Who'd a thought that nice-looking old jane was a pimp?" Leo shook his head. He didn't trust his voice to hold "So you finally up and shot the bag. Why wait so many years? You're what, twenty-five?" "Twenty-six." Leo swallowed hard. "You don't keep up with the obits, huh?" "Not unless they're homicides," Baylor said. He laced his fingers over his gut. "Maria always told me to leave her alone. As much as she hated that devil oval office, she didn't want me doing anything to get in trouble." Leo spit another wad on the floor. "A week and a half ago, she finally couldn't take it anymore. Maria tried to fly out her fifteenth-floor window in Hoboken." Baylor shook his head but made no sound. "So I went over to Varner's last night, and did what someone else should have done twenty years ago. And I'll tell anyone else who wants to hear it." The detective planted his elbows on the table and set his chin in his hands. "That's quite the story. I don't want to believe you, but somehow I do. Heard a hundred yarns from a hundred clever hoods. Yours is the only one I'd buy for a couple dimes." "I guess that means something," Leo said. A drop of blood fell from his chin to his lap. "Trouble is, your story won't mean anything to any jury or judge. It's the big jump for you, and the quick swing." "I know it." Leo closed his eyes for a few seconds. "What more is there anyway?" Baylor's pig-eyes went soft. "There's always something more. Not for you now, I guess. Sorry about the chin-music a few minutes ago, bo. I'll have the lock-up nurse take a look at it." "Why bother? Pain is an old friend to me. A little more is nothing. At least it'll be over soon enough."
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May 20, 2013 04:20
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Sebmojo, I'll have to respectfully request our duel is postponed to the morrow. No time tonight. Bohner is already tracking. Judgment for Bohner and Muffin's slapfight will also be posted tomorrow.
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May 20, 2013 04:21
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also always rerack, don't hog multiple machines doing a "circuit," and always spot a brother/sister in need.
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May 20, 2013 16:53
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Erik Shawn-Bohner posted:
This Genejack 765 words Kamakhya stood at her terminal, watching her genejacks labor on the factory floor below. Two minutes until her shift was over. A new group of 'jacks would move onto the floor and hers would retreat to their holding quarters. Kamakhya herself would knock off to a tea house and try to ignore Maoist-Confucian litanies played endlessly through hidden speakers. A minute fifty. She zoomed in on two 'jacks lifting a heavy crate of electronics. Vat-grown, nano-finished muscles strained and pumped like swollen organic pistons under the industrial lights. Kamakhya knew that under their skin-tight briefs - clothing had been cut to what decency required as a cost-cutting measure - their genitals were shrunken, atrophied. Fit only for voiding urine. But Kamakhya sometimes liked to imagine otherwise. Ninety seconds. The two 'jacks were moving the crate to a truck, one of the few robotic workers in the factory. Trucks and other robots needed fuel, maintenance, diagnostics. What did genejacks need but nutrient paste and a dark cell to sleep in? And only a few hours a day at that. Eighty-five seconds. The genejacks lifted the crate, those gleaming muscles bulging. Kamakhya focused on the left-hand 'jack's face, watched his placid eyes tighten just a hair. His fingers slipped as the crate rose to shoulder level, and he fell backward. The other 'jack couldn't support the crate on his own and it smashed down on the other's legs. Kamakhya stabbed a three-button sequence, calling in the factory doc. Seventy seconds. Kamakhya knelt beside the injured 'jack. His legs were pulped beneath the five hundred kilogram crate. A gleaming red pool spread beneath what were left of his thighs. Lights on his biomonitor blinked red instead of the usual green. The genejack's face was as flat as always, but his mouth was open and nostrils flared. She almost imagined he was in pain. Kanakhya looked at the other genejack. His face was just as still as the injured one, but his eyes didn't leave his broken counterpart. Sixty seconds. "Nothing I can do," Doctor Chang said. "He's already losing too much blood." Kamakhya had her hands on the injured 'jack's shoulders. His heavy pale muscles pulsed beneath her dark fingers, and goosebumps rose under her worksuit. "They can't feel anything, can they tóng zhì Doctor?" "Of course not." Chang stared at Kamakhya, eyes wide. "Why would you even ask such a thing? They are engineered, biological machines, they feel nothing. Think nothing." "Look at his face, and look at the other staring at him." Kamakhya gestured at the other 'jack, his eyes still locked on his dying fellow. "It's not the way machines should behave." Forty-five seconds. Chang drew a deep breath. "Tóng zhì Kamakhya. I've always liked you. Please don't give me reason to report you to the Political Officer." Kamakhya tossed her fingers and gave him a weak smile. "I was just thinking too much, tóng zhì. Of course I have no concern for the genejacks besides wasting useful resources. This 'jack is no more than any other, just as we are no more than any other citizen of the Hive." Chang's mouth was a thin line, and his eyes narrowed a touch. "Very well. I'll send a clean-up crew to take the body to the recycling tanks. He will expire within the next five-to-ten seconds. Good night, tóng zhì Kamakhya. Enjoy your enlightenment at the tea house." Kamakhya dipped her head. "You as well, tóng zhì Doctor." Twenty seconds. As Chang's footsteps faded, so the light faded from the 'jack's eyes. The other sat there still, watching his counterpart die. The injured 'jack's eyelids never shut, but his chest finally went still and the biomonitor lights went dark. Kamakhya swallowed like there was a lump of sticky rice in her throat. The other genejack still hadn't moved. "Get back to work," Kamakhya said. She stood, turned and walked away. Ten seconds. Kamakhya looked over her shoulder. The other genejack had his hand on the dead 'jack's forehead. His lips were moving, but of course no sounds came. He wasn't capable of it. Five seconds. "Worker, back to your duties." Kamakhya's voice cracked like a whip. The 'jack stood upright, but like he was lifting a heavy weight. He turned to her, his face still flat. Thin lips moved again, and he made a sign with his hand. Then he turned and went back to the stack of crates. As the shift klaxon wailed, Kamakhya pondered the Chairman's words on the opening of the first genejack factory. How can you tyrannize someone who cannot feel pain?
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May 21, 2013 01:34
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Thunderduel Prompt: Operation Circlejerk: Martello vs Sebmojo
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Erogenous Beef posted:Well, never thought I'd see the day when one of the Original Three tried to sneak in some videogame fanfiction. I was hardly sneaking it.
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May 21, 2013 12:05
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Erogenous Beef posted:Will we next create false gods to rule over us? How proud we have become. And how blind. Not only does God play dice, the dice are loaded.
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May 21, 2013 14:48
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Mary had a little lamb, Little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb, whose fleece was white as snow.
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May 21, 2013 16:34
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Chairchucker posted:Why I Was Unable to Submit on Time: The 100% Real and not at all Fabricated Account of Chairchucker's Excuse for Tardiness You need a new avatar of a dude wearing a dropbear head for a hat.
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May 21, 2013 16:55
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SurreptitiousMuffin posted:Rook to A2 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
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May 22, 2013 02:56
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| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 14:06 |
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sebmojo posted:We do what we must, because we can. How's about that duel?
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May 24, 2013 13:46
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