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SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


I said I'd check out the Thunderdome, and by God I'm signing up before I come to my senses. In.

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SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Well, here goes nothin'. Guess everyone has to start somewhere. Definitely looking forward to the feedback, especially if I lose.


The Living
Words: 490


A noose in his briefcase, Ichiro entered the suicide forest in the early morning. His wife and children surely suspected nothing; After all, he had kept to his standard routine of shower, shave, and breakfast.

“Routine.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Unrelenting, soul-destroying routine. It had been good enough for his father, his father in law, his grandfather… but why? They’d also had families to take care of, and they did it well. They had faced longer hours, harder work, even the awful specter of world war. Ichiro merely had to sit in a tiny cubicle all day and occasionally cash a modest paycheck to support his daughter and son. He didn’t even have to expend much energy in actually raising them; his wife generally took care of that.

“It’s an ideal life.”

He told himself this every day. It was what he’d been told throughout his entire youth. “You get a decent job and commute there every day from your quaint one-story house. You come home to your family at the end of the day and it’s all worth it.” It wasn’t. He could only conclude that this was due to a weakness in his character, an inability to handle the basics of everyday life. But there was another thing he had been told. It was never so direct, never actually advised. Still, the implication had been there his entire life, written between the lines: “If you can’t handle it, you kill yourself.”

Ichiro walked the main path into the forest until he came to a narrow offshoot. He wanted to find a nice, private spot to die. That was the standard practice, or so he had heard. He walked the smaller path for several minutes, not thinking but simply taking in his surroundings. The trees were covered in verdant moss, damp from the cool mist of morning. The air carried no sound but the steady rustling of Ichiro’s march toward death.

The path terminated at a depression replete with boulders and fallen trees. Ichiro decided that this would be a sensible spot to end things. He took the noose from his briefcase and secured it to a branch extending from a tree at the edge of the depression. He gave it a tug. Satisfied, he tightened the noose around his neck. In that last moment, he had no second thoughts. He jumped into the depression.

The silence of the forest was broken by a resounding snap. Ichiro tumbled into the depression, stopping beneath two fallen and rotting trees that spanned its length. To his left he saw the severed branch, connected to his neck by the noose. To his right he saw an old skull. There was a paltry coating of moss on it, mindlessly attempting to endure on the barren remains. Ichiro’s despair swelled as he recognized himself in the scene before him. He saw himself not in the skull’s smiling visage, but in the moss.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


livethepostmetal posted:

I'm in for my first Thunderdome. Also my first attempt at writing, so I'm sure everyone will tear it to shreds give me excellent feedback.

Don't worry, you're not alone (on both counts).

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Kaishai posted:

Critiques for Week XXXIII: Noah, SpaceGodzilla, Erik Shawn-Bohner, HaitianDivorce, Fumblemouse, Nubile Hillock, pug wearing a hat, Steriletom, and Baggy_Brad

SpaceGodzilla, "The Living":

Your interpretation of 'traditions of the dead generations' is an interesting one, invoking a different sort of despair that's powerful precisely because it's so banal. I like the approach. I'm not wild about the writing. You're heavy on exposition, probably too heavy for a work this short; it feels like you could trim some of it out and give yourself more room to make the reader feel what Ichiro feels. As-is, I'm told why he's unhappy, but only at the very end do I start to feel for him.

On a technical level, the phrase 'the depression' appears three times in the second-to-last paragraph, which is at least one time too many; it's repetitive. In the second sentence, 'after' shouldn't be capitalized. 'Father-in-law' needs hyphens. But your grammar's not bad overall.

You won't get my vote for the win, but I see potential. If you end up working further with this story, try focusing more on Ichiro's feelings; make his desolation--or emptiness, in the case that he's doing this only because it's one more thing he's 'supposed' to--into a real nightmare.

Thanks a bunch for the feedback. Although I won't be working further with this story, it really helps to see what I should have done differently. And I dreamed of hearing the word "potential" . That's all the encouragement I need to keep trying to improve.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Yeah ok, let's see if I can dodge a bullet twice in a row (the answer is probably no). In.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Sitting Here posted:

SpaceGodzilla-The Living

I wanted to like this one more than I did. I thought the subject matter was a good way to come at the prompt, but then you kind of just told us how he feels. Everything that led up to this point in the story is vague exposition. You tell us straight up that this is "Ichiro's march toward death".

The whole ending, where he arrives at the place of his suicide, is sterile and the language is overly wordy in places. "The path terminated at a depression replete with boulders and fallen trees", for example. Pretty much everything up to the last two sentences is remote and clinical. Then you said


and I was like drat Godzilla, I wish you'd said more poo poo like this earlier. So I give it a resentful 6/10 because you almost had something here.
Big thanks for the feedback. I'm glad you pointed out that you liked that last line more than the rest, because I'm still trying to get the hang of what's too little and what's going overboard. I was kind of afraid of being mocked so I played it really safe until that last line, but clearly that didn't work out. I'll try to be more adventurous next time, whether it brings ruin or glory!

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


I'm flash-ruling my song to be Underground by Tom Waits before I can change my mind again.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Nikaer Drekin posted:

Oh, just in case I want to look into publishing in the future, is it all right if I post my story somewhere else and link it here?

You can always just edit your post.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


I had a lot of fun with this prompt. Last week my writing was described as sterile, so this week I tried to get my hands dirty. At least I'll have that excuse for when my work is called "lovely".

Wild Haunt - Words: 928
Inspired by Underground by Tom Waits

Last night under the 9th St. overpass (the one that’s been a week from demolition for a couple dozen years), the rats and the dwellers saw a strange sort of fellow. The guy strolled up in a fireman’s suit, canvas like dead flesh with black mold bullet holes. A filthy, gaunt tramp laughed his rear end off when he saw him. “Where’s the fire, friend?” he hacked out, his laughter spreading like smallpox to the other bums hanging around his flaming barrel.

The fireman walked past them, over to a rusty service door. He raised his axe and knocked the door twice with its shattered head. Two blows, two flowers of sparks that faded into the night quick as they came. Something metal behind the door squealed and clicked. The fireman shouldered his way through.

Behind that door was a steep dirt-and-wood staircase into the abyss. The fireman crept down, not concerned with the fact that the old gas lanterns hanging along the walls got dimmer and dimmer the further he went. When there was no light left aside from a tiny flicker in the distance above, the descent stopped and the Fireman stepped into a large mineshaft.

Not three seconds after stepping into that shaft, a smoldering set of bones came at the fireman hell-for-leather. The charred carcass clawed madly at him, black fingers drawing deep charcoal streaks across the canvas suit. The fireman pushed the bone-man away, staggering it long enough for him to raise his ruined axe and bring down a mighty swing. The skeleton exploded into a black ash and white smoke.

As soon as that dust and smoke had settled, though, it reformed like erosion played in reverse and attacked him again. And again. And just before this got to be a routine, more joined the fray. Skeletons the color of coal crawled from the walls and the floor and swarmed the fireman. He kept on beating them back with his axe until one of them wearing an old shattered headlamp stormed at him with a pickaxe. The fireman was so focused on this threat that he soon found himself swarmed by all the others. The skeletons held him in place as the macabre miner approached. Creaking and groaning, it hefted its pick and poised itself to strike.

Just then, a cacophony of hoots, hollers, and the stomping of feet and hooves erupted from down the mine. The black skeletons released the fireman and skedaddled in the opposite direction, a trail of black footprints following them. As the clattering of their retreat receded, the stampede grew in volume until its source came to a halt upon the fireman.

Before him was a plethora of ghouls of several species. Decayed cadavers of horse, man, dog, even some farm animals here and there. At the front of their ranks was a horse with an ornately carved wooden right front leg that gleamed with golden inlays in the light of the posse’s ancient railroad lanterns. It approached the fireman.

“Not ‘hurt’ are ya’?” The horse chuckled, a sound like crushing dried leaves. “Guess ya’ probably don’t know why you’re here, huh? I mean, ya’ probably know it has to do with gettin’ tired of wanderin’ ‘round up there, spookin’ the odd drunk… but not why ya’ came to this spot, at this time, and met my little motley crew.”

The fireman shook his helmet.

“Well ya’ might recognize some familiar faces, uh, so to speak…” The horse gestured with its head at the rabble behind him. The human ghouls, though quite literally faceless, were dressed in all manner of familiar garb from across the ages. There were policemen, construction workers, even other firemen.
“Ya’ see, all of us met our untimely ends in service to this country, one way or another. Be it keepin’ the peace or buildin’ roads, all of us helped to make this country what it is today. Me, I’m the leader outta pure seniority. I was on one of the first ships over here, but once we got on dry land I broke a leg haulin’ some cargo and had to be put down. Heck, that’s luck for ya’.”

A few of the other horses shifted awkwardly, adding up to a brief but harrowing chorus of dry grinding sounds.

“The thing is, friend, even after dyin’ there’s work to be done to keep this country goin’. Us productive types ain’t the only ones that die, as you can imagine. There’s still crooks and ne’er-do-wells all around, even honest people who just can’t deal with bein’ dead and wanna take it out on the livin’. Well none of us could just sit around on our bony haunches and let them get away with that kinda mischief, especially seein’ as the livin’ ain’t all that good at dealin’ with supernatural sorts.
“So whether ya’ knew it or not, that’s why ya’ were drawn to our little band a’ do-gooders. We ain’t the only one, but we’re a goodun. And I’m invitin’ ya’ aboard.”

The fireman did nothing. The crowd of skeletons reduced their idle rattling to a minimum, waiting for the fireman’s response. Finally, the lead horse spoke again as it lowered its head to the ground: “Aw, shucks… go on then. Ya’ know ya’ wanna’.”

The fireman dashed over to the horse and mounted it. Through his mask, he bellowed a mighty “Yee-haw,” barely hanging on as the undead beast reared up before breaking into a gallop. The other ghouls followed suit and the stampede rolled on, chasing demons through the eternal subterranean night.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Thanks for the crit, very helpful advice in there. Made me laugh out loud, too.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


CantDecideOnAName posted:

I guess I was going too subtle. drat. Ah well. Not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that the worst thing in my story was that nothing happened. I'll go with good, considering some of the crits other folks are getting.
"Heh heh heh, I lost in a slightly less ambitious way than the rest of you losers "

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


I'm in, with a TBD image/caption.

The quote doesn't actually have to be in the story though, right? Also, is Friday the deadline deadline or just the signup deadline?

VVVV: Thanks.

SpaceGodzilla fucked around with this message at Apr 2, 2013 around 19:00

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


I'm D'ing my TBD: I'm now IN for THE THIRD-FLOOR BEDROOM.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Hey fuckers here's a story in the form of a fictional document that furthermore contains references to/a snippet from ANOTHER fictional document within it.

The Diary of Georgia Munroe, Age 10

Words: 803

April 2

Dear Diary,

I finally got my window open tonight! The moon is full and all the tall grass outside is swinging in the wind. I wish I could go run through it… The whole farm belongs to us, after all. Daddy gets so angry whenever I ask to go outside though! I don’t even want to think about what he’d do if he knew that I figured out how to open my window. Oh well, at least I can pretend I’m out there when my window’s open and my eyes are closed. Whatever Daddy’s so scared of out there, I’m sure it can’t jump three stories high.

April 3

Dear Diary,

I wish I knew another kid. Mommy used to tell me to talk to the birds on the wallpaper when I get lonely but that seems silly now that I have you to write in. I wish I had someone real to talk to though.

April 6

Dear Diary,

Oh no! I fell asleep next to the window and Mommy almost caught me this morning! Luckily she knocked on the door before she came in and I got the window closed in time. At breakfast I asked why we can’t go outside again and Daddy got angry (as usual) and told me that if I kept asking he wouldn’t let me work in the greenhouse today. I was really mad at him so when we were going through the stupid connecting hall thingy to the greenhouse I kicked the wall and Daddy got more scared than I’ve ever seen him! He told me to run to the house quick and I did but I stayed in the doorway and watched him. He looked all over the wall I kicked to see if I hurt it or something. I don’t think I did, but he got a tarp from the greenhouse anyway and stapled it over the wall. Then he dragged me into the study and made me wait FOREVER while he flipped through that white book that he always reads when he’s scared. Eventually he sighed really big and told me not to do anything like that ever again and then he gave me a spanking. Working in the greenhouse wasn’t very fun today, even if I did get to spend the day in the sun.

What’s even so special about that dumb book?

April 7

Dear Diary,

I snuck down to Daddy’s study tonight and looked through that white book. Mommy says I’m pretty smart but I didn’t understand any of it! I accidentally ripped out part of the page that was bookmarked when I opened it but maybe Daddy won’t notice and give me another spanking. I’ll hide the page in you since Mommy says it’s rude to look in other peoples’ diaries. Maybe I got lucky and it was the page that says I can’t go outside or have any friends.

~~~~~~~~
The Congressional Genetic Modification Oversight Commission Report

[TO BE DISTRIBUTED TO ALL AGRICULTURAL CENTERS]

Part IV: Potential Risks of Unregulated Commercial Genetic Modification>>Section 6: Uncontrolled Mutation Scenario>>Subsection 2a: Potential Mitigating Factors for the Public
It is the opinion of this commission that human life may be sustainable in this scenario if the following conditions are met:
- Basic air filtration systems should be installed.
- Food should be grown from trusted seeds in a controlled environment.
- Doors and windows should be tightly shut at all times.
- All water should be boiled before use for consumption or irrigation.
~~~~~~~~

April 9

Dear Diary,

Daddy didn’t look at his book today so I’m safe for now I guess. My parents are acting kind of weird though. Earlier today I was picking tomatoes in the greenhouse with Daddy and when he finished one row he just kept going like there were more tomatoes and before I could say anything he bumped into the glass and snapped out of it. And after dinner I heard Mommy scream so I ran downstairs and she was yelling about spiders and pointing at the floor but there weren’t any there.

april 1000

dear diary mommy and daddy are really sick i think and i am too probably
daddy was screaming that somebody named ergitt sporrs had gotten into the food but we had plenty of food at least enough for dinner mommy was even chopping some tomatoes when daddy freaked out but then she freaked out too and started trying to chop him instead so i ran to my room and i started writing in you but i don’t know why id do that cause the birds on the wall are real now theyre flying all over the place

haha i dont need you anymore sorry diary bye

i think this is what it feels like to have real friends

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Nubile Hillock posted:

The Speediest Crits, GuaranteedTM

Thanks for getting my crit done so fast! It's great not to be hanging in limbo all weekend.

VVVVVVVVVV Edit: And you too, bub VVVVVVVVVVVV

SpaceGodzilla fucked around with this message at Apr 6, 2013 around 21:03

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


crabrock posted:

Hello. Earlier I expressed my interest in writing a story; however, I do not see my name in the list of participants. I hope this is merely an oversight and I can still include my story.

I don't know why I keep writing my posts in this thread like a moron.
You entered in time so yes, it's not your fault if Systran was too busy singing along to Bonnie Tyler [and promptly/diligently writing crits] to add you to the list.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


crabrock posted:

While brainstorming titles the worst one I came up with was "The Young and the Breastless."
Jesus wept.

I'm sure this entry will get a completely mild, not-at-all-interesting reception

SpaceGodzilla fucked around with this message at Apr 7, 2013 around 07:14

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Nubile Hillock posted:

In with Rural Rentboys

God drat you that was my first choice.

gently caress it, I'll choose one later. Homework to do.

SpaceGodzilla fucked around with this message at Apr 9, 2013 around 04:09

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


IN with a story to be assigned by Sitting Here.

SpaceGodzilla fucked around with this message at Apr 9, 2013 around 06:44

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Hank the Petulant Vibrator is getting a dark and gritty reboot

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


magnificent7 posted:

Four posts above you.
http://forums.somethingawful.com/sh...0#post414263489

And how many flashrules can one participant get slammed with?

I managed to find the original post easily just now. Hint: Google indexes the SA forums!

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


FLASH RULE for magnificent7

Because of your namesake, your story must take place either in the the Old West OR Sengoku-Era Japan

How will that work? You figure it out.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


Between classwork and the fact that I'm unexpectedly moving this weekend, I don't know yet if I'll have enough time to finish my Hank the Petulant Vibrator remake. Just mentioning this so that Twinkle Cave won't be too surprised and disappointed if I don't get anything finished and posted. I'll try, though!

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


School's out, so I'm in with the following:

quote:

2009: Taylor Mitchell, a Canadian folk singer, was attacked and killed by three coyotes, the only recorded adult person to have been killed by this species.[158][159]

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


I swear I didn't even know that last week's prompt was fables until after I was mostly finished with my story Hope you're not too sick of fable-y elements!

Coyote Country
677 Words


Let me tell you now the story of a young bard I once met. It’s a sad tale, I admit, and not the kind involving myself that I’d want spread around. Even so, it has to be told to someone or else it isn’t a story at all.

I found the girl wandering through the forest in the middle of a summer night, a guitar slung over her back and a notepad in her hand. It seemed as if she were looking for something. I didn’t consider that she might be looking for me, and was surprised when she noticed me hiding in the bushes.

“Who’s there?”

Having been caught fair and square, I revealed myself with a flourish. “It is I, Coyote, and it seems you’ve caught me. For that, I will briefly reward you with my attention.”

“I know you, I’ve read about you! You’re a musician too, at least some of the time. I came into this forest looking for inspiration, and I run into a legendary entertainer! That can’t be a coincidence.”

I basked in her praise, and felt that I could not turn away this young admirer of mine in her time of need.

“So you need inspiration, do you? Well then, I’ll make you a deal. I will write you a song so glorious and memorable that it will be spread to every corner of the world. It will be enormously famous, and so will you. My only condition is that you must come back to this spot in one moon, at which point you will thank me for the fortune and fame that my song has brought you. I will write the song tonight, and you may collect it here in the morning.”

The girl could not turn down such a generous offer, so I retired for the night to write a great ballad chronicling my many fantastic deeds. What else could attract the kind of fame and appreciation this girl desired?

She collected the song in the morning, and I did not see her again until one moon later, exactly as we had arranged.

“Well, girl? Did the song bring you fame and fortune?”

“Yes, Coyote, it did! The people love to hear of your story. In fact, it’s the nation’s best-selling folk single in decades!”

I already knew this, of course, but I expressed my pleasure all the same.

“Then I thank you, girl, for holding up your end of the bargain as well as I’ve held up mine.”

The girl gave me a quizzical look.

“Is that really it, then? I mean, usually in the stories you try to trick people and end up getting outwitted.”

“Ah, you’ve caught me. Although… you’re only half-right. It is true that I often get my just desserts in the stories, but who do you think wrote those stories? Who likes to talk of Coyote more than Coyote himself?”

“But why would you make yourself look like such an idiot so much of the time?”

There was a faint but growing rustle in the bushes behind the girl.

“So that people are not too scared to deal with me, of course! Look at what happened to that Satan fellow… he can barely even show his face in this world anymore, let alone get anyone involved in any of his schemes. I, on the other hand, seem to be a lovable fool and scoundrel.”

Three coyotes (my animalistic progeny, not Yours Truly) burst from the undergrowth behind the girl and lunged at her, latching on with their gleaming teeth and tearing at her flesh with uncharacteristic fury.

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear, but your unusual death will bring you (and me, by way of your music) even greater fame.”

I turned away, touched by her screams but unable to look at the savagery that my beasts had wrought. Please do not hold my actions against me or think me cruel, though. It probably was the only way for her to achieve the fame that she so desired. After all, folk is dead.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


CancerCakes posted:

It is when it says it is bub. If someone told you the dead line was at 2pm sunday would you ask if it was on saturday?

Sunday the 1st of June 2013 doesn't exist. That's the problem.

SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


In.

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SpaceGodzilla
Sep 24, 2012

I sure hope Godzilla-senpai notices me~


The passage I was assigned was really awesome but unfortunately mental health stuff got in the way this week, so I won't be submitting.

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