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I've pored over the pages, scanned the stories. And I'm clueless. Submissions are closed, got that part. The prompt - is that the topic/rules/photo to write about? And it's posted in here too. That's it? Do I have it all correct?
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Apr 8, 2013 04:33
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sebmojo posted:Nope.
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Apr 8, 2013 04:40
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So wait. gently caress. How do I find out who won this most recent round? I'm on vacation. Ain't nobody got time to go read every loseringest story but I'm going to do one of them. Most room for improvement there.
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Apr 9, 2013 05:22
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I'm in, taking Sitting Here's tale of horror following the photographer in times square. Don't Bite the Eye that Feeds Because sure, why not. I'm scrambling trying to find a link to it before you people rip me a third rear end in a top hat. Gyat dammit. I know I found it, I've got it copied, I've read it. And now, can't find it. magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 19:43 on Apr 9, 2013 |
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Apr 9, 2013 18:03
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Sitting Here posted:I'm on to your fourth rear end in a top hat, actually. Chop chop. FOR REFERENCE because I can't find the original post again, here is SH's original story: Sitting Here posted:Don't Bite the Eye that Feeds magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 20:21 on Apr 9, 2013 |
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Apr 9, 2013 19:53
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Sitting Here posted:You know, I know the one you're talking about and I can't find it either. Four posts above you. http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3527428&pagenumber=50&perpage=40#post414263489 And how many flashrules can one participant get slammed with?
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Apr 9, 2013 21:03
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Flashrule: Magnificent7 must find my story I don't remember writing
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SpaceGodzilla posted:I managed to find the original post easily just now. Hint: Google indexes the SA forums!
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Apr 9, 2013 21:51
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Sitting Here posted:^^^^that was a close one Oh goddamn COME ON.
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Apr 9, 2013 22:48
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Sitting Here posted:Bold. Daring. I like it. Lets see if Magnificent7 can handle that massive pair of brass balls you just hot-potatoed his way. Oh that's right. You heard me. I have a wife.
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Apr 10, 2013 01:43
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Jesus Christ this was easy as hell when I wasn't actually trying to write something.
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Apr 11, 2013 04:36
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Massive Edit: Due date is not Friday. It's Sunday April 14th. So I'm gonna edit and revise some more. magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 23:23 on Apr 11, 2013 |
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Apr 11, 2013 22:32
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based on Sitting Here's "Don't Bite The Eye That Feeds", 746 words. http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3527428&userid=0&perpage=40&pagenumber=50#post414263489 Flash Rule Edition: Story must take place in the Old West or some kind of samurai dynasty thing. Feed The Eye That Bites 844 words I craned my head out of the stagecoach window and asked the driver how much farther. He pointed off in the distance to a rising plume of smoke. “Won’t be long now, Mr. Walden.” Mopping my soaked forehead, I said “make it fast as you can. The less time I’m in this desert, the better.” Back in the carriage, I ran a kerchief along my neck. New York in the summertime was hot, but it paled in comparison to the hell of Arizona. Luckily I wouldn’t be here long. My firm had been retained by Darius Barker’s daughters to retrieve his body and settle his estate. Barker made his fortune when the gold was still flowing from these Arizona hills. When the gold ran out so did his fortune and his sanity. A week ago Barker set a woman on fire, and then himself. When we arrived, the sheriff was waiting for me at the station. His tall frame was dressed in clothes far too formal for the heat; sweat soaking into every crease of his shirt, vest, and hat. Extending a sweaty hand, I said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Tate.” “Just call me Sheriff, if y’ don’t mind.” “Of course, Sheriff. I’m hoping to collect Mr. Barker’s body today, and arrange for his belongings to be shipped back to New York City.” I looked down at my black leather shoes already tinted red with the Arizona dirt. I heard the sheriff chuckle as I tried to wipe the red dust away. Pointing down the street, he said “You can get both today. Wasn’t much left. The body and his belongings all fit in the pine box. It’s around behind the jail.” — I had to scamper to keep up with his strides as we proceeded away from the station. This town was little more than an intersection and a few storefronts. Through the windows of each storefront, I could see a few faces watching us. I looked closer - every face was dingy and smudged with soot. Sheriff Tate’s arm shot out and caught me by the collar. “Whoah there Walden. You almost got run over like Barker did.” A stage coach went galloping by while Tate pulled me back up on the boardwalk. After catching my breath I asked “Wait - he was run over? I thought he burned?” He relaxed his grip and shrugged. “He wasn’t run over, he just jumped in front of a coach, chasing one of his imaginary demons. If I wasn’t there to catch him, he’d be dead — well — he’d’ve been dead sooner.” He smiled a stupid grin and nodded for me to cross the street with him. “Look Mr. Walden,” the sheriff said. “Barker was a good man. Hell, he was probably the richest man in town at one point. But once he lost it all, he just went batshit” “Batshit? How?” “I don’t know. He started acting strange, talking to no one. ‘Barker’ became more of a description, less of a name for the guy. He’d be barking at invisible people, loud. Said he saw things disappearing. And then he went and set that woman on fire.” We were stopped by an old woman standing in the walkway, a black smudge on her cheek. She met my gaze and whispered, “feed the eye”. Before I could ask what she meant, Tate patted her shoulder and said “leave it be Miss Jane, just leave it be.” Then he turned to me and said “you don’t want to know.” As we continued on I fetched a look over my shoulder. She never moved, just stood there. “Barker knocked her down a couple weeks ago, that’s when we figured he’d gone nuts. He screamed at her and went back to following the Miller woman.” “Who?” I asked. “You know, the girl he killed. He said she was swallowing people up.” Before I could press for more details, he stopped abruptly then pointed down an alley. “It’s down this alley, then around back.” I gasped to catch my breath. He removed his hat and wiped his forehead. “Damned heat’s just getting worse ain’t it?” Half way through the alley, the brick wall was smeared black with the words FEED THE EYE. “Feed the eye?” He nodded. “Doesn’t make much sense does it? Barker did that.” “But the old woman - she said it too - you heard her right?” Tate nodded and said “He’s right back here. I’ll show you. Come on.” Arizona was hot, but the end of the alley felt like a furnace. I could see all the walls were black with soot. Rounding the corner, I saw the pit. It was twenty feet wide, the cobblestone street ran down into it. It was like somebody had laid cobble stones onto the street and a giant boulder blew a hole straight down through them. Flames licked up, and at that moment I felt Tate’s arm around my shoulders, pushing me towards the hole. “I don’t understand wait what — ” “We’ve got to feed the eye Mr. Walden. We’ve got to keep feeding the eye.”
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Apr 12, 2013 19:24
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I've not read any of these other submissions and I can confidently say, "apology accepted."
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Apr 15, 2013 06:19
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Erogenous Beef posted:BEFORE: Through the windows of each storefront, I could see a few faces watching us. I looked closer - every face was dingy and smudged with soot Thanks for the crit. I hate you for making it look so obvious.
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Apr 16, 2013 00:55
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Erogenous Beef posted:It's actually a mechanical process. I didn't introduce any new words or concepts.
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Apr 16, 2013 03:04
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My point in the crit was wondering how he turned my clunky bull in a china shop description into a stripper approaching me for a lap dance.quote:BEFORE: Through the windows of each storefront, I could see a few faces watching us. I looked closer - every face was dingy and smudged with soot I'd STILL want to add I slowed my steps when I saw dingy, soot-smudged faces pressed up against the storefront windows, watching us. Is that just a "you should read more and you'll come up with prettier ways to say poo poo" kind of a thing?
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Apr 16, 2013 17:08
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Congrats Dr. Kloctopussy. And thank you all for letting me play along. I enjoyed the gently caress out of it, when I wasn't hating it (creativity under pressure isn't my strong suit, although it IS my profession)
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Apr 16, 2013 20:46
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Sitting Here posted:crits
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Apr 17, 2013 12:48
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I'm in. Reluctantly. Westerns? Lovecraft? And now Mysteries? Next prompt is going to be operettas. Did I miss all the way cool awesome prompts like "50-foot spiders" and "zombies"? (edit - to be clear - the Western was a flash rule, and lovecraft was the original story but yeah I'm still wondering)
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Apr 17, 2013 17:29
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Sitting Here posted:You missed the one and only worthy prompt. "A man agonizes over his potatoes". Everything after that is increasingly thinned out, unrefined Thunderdome chaff.
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Apr 17, 2013 17:45
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Dr. Kloctopussy posted:It's not Capital-M-Mysteries, it's just a mystery. Also you just (and people keep re-doing zombie stories because nobody's gotten it right yet).
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Apr 17, 2013 18:42
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crabrock posted:Isn't it going to be confusing telling all the stories apart if they all have the same name Crits: The Mystery of the Verbing Noun: this sucked horribly what were you thinking. Next up, The Mystery of the Verbing Noun. Now THIS is what I'm talking about. Excellent work.
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Apr 17, 2013 21:36
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I just had a spinal cortisone injection thing and I'm betting the next few days will be spent laid up on some unholy pain killers. Prepare yourself for an amazing story.
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Apr 19, 2013 01:42
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Dr. Kloctopussy posted:No, you can submit any time. There's no reward for posting early, though, so you're better off using any extra time to polish. Polish? Lord Jesus ain't nobody got time for that!
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Apr 19, 2013 22:36
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Yeah I failed to submit. Goddamit. Another 15 hours is all I need.
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Apr 22, 2013 02:30
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I'm in. But I want to mix tenses, and only have a beginning and an end (is that even possible?)
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Apr 24, 2013 03:00
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Sitting Here posted:Like in To Kill a Mockingbird, there's a line that goes something like "No moon was out tonight." Same sort of problem.
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Apr 24, 2013 19:01
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quote:JonasSalk vs. magnificent7 These Aliens Are Full Of poo poo - 800 Goddamn Words “Sir, Bandit One found something.” Lt. Bass watched the quadracopter’s videofeed as it approached a brown box with wheels, crawling across the ice. “Can you zoom in on it?” Captain Sanders asked. “Could be one of ours, but I don’t show records of another rover in this area.” Bass shrugged. “Maybe it’s Chinese? I tried radio, but got nothing. It looks like a refrigerator box on eight wheels. No markings anywhere except that big white circle.” “Can you land Bandit on top, there?” Bass shot a glance at Sanders. “On that thing? What if it’s not one of ours?” Sanders shrugged. “It’s probably an old NASA rover, running on autopilot. Land the bandit on it. That’s an order.” “Yes sir.” Bass hesitated, then craned his neck around to an empty chair. “When does Coretta return? Shouldn’t we get her opinion first?” Sanders looked out the portal and saw an astronaut scooping dirt with a shovel. He flipped on the radio and said “Dr. Coretta, we need you here. Now.” — Despite Coretta’s concerns, Bandit One landed gently on the box, and wiry antennae began to scan its surface. “Sensors on.” Coretta reported. She turned up the cabin’s speakers and heard a gentle grinding. “Shh!” Sanders said. “What’s that?” “An engine sir, or gears. Something mechani—“ WHUMP! exploded from the speakers, and then silence. “Dr. Coretta, how can we communicate with that thing?” Sanders asked. She shrugged. "Bandit is made to collect data, nothing else. Maybe, we could use the rock hammer?” “What, morse code?” Bass laughed. “Do Chinese even know morse code?” “Maybe you’d rather walk the 50 kilometers over there and introduce yourself?” she asked. “Calm down you two.” Sanders said. “Use the hammer Dr. Coretta. Lightly tap. A single tap.” Bandit’s hammer made a “TAK” sound, like a spoon on granite. Silence. Capt. Sanders said “Well, that didn’t—“ WHUMP WHUMP. Dr. Coretta used the controls to tap the hammer twice. After what felt like an eternity, the speakers began a thunderous BUDBUHDUHDUHBZZZBRRRRBDDD. Sanders hands flew to his ears. Coretta turned down the volume and said “I’ve got the computer checking for recognizable patterns. Nothing’s coming up.” Finally, the buzzing stopped and the cabin fell silent. “What do we do? How do we reply?” Bass said. “Pi.” Sanders said. “Pie what? Food pie? That pie?” “Math. You know? Pi? 3.141? Just broadcast the first four numbers. Math. They’ll know —.” Whump whump whump. Whump. Whump whump whump whump. Whump. — Twelve hours later, the rovers were communicating, using a translator hacked together by Dr. Coretta. It was a slow process. She typed a message, which translated into rapid taps of the hammer. The rover responded with buzzing that translated back to english on her monitor. “They’re from another galaxy. They came here to test if the planet is inhabitable. They’re testing the ice, like us!” Coretta smiled to Sanders in excitement. Sanders looked out the viewport and said, “How many of them are there?” She shook her head. “They won’t say.” “Don’t tell them there’s just three of us. Tell them we’re in contact with our own planet right now, and — “ “I already did. I mean -- I said we’re talking to our home planet about our own tests for terraforming.” Bass bit his fingernail. “Did you tell them we have guns? Or… lasers? No, wait. Say we have laser cannons!” “Threaten them?” Coretta laughed. “Our robot mosquito is perched on their motorized tortoise, and you want to start a pissing contest?” “Just as a precaution.” Bass said, pulling at the nail with his teeth. The speakers buzzed briefly. “Their tests show they can’t survive here. They’re preparing to head home.” “Oh, like that? That’s it?” Sanders stroked his stubbled chin. “I don’t like it.” Bass spit out the finger nail and said “Look sir!” The three of them crowded around the monitor. The rover slowly turned to the right. Sanders said, “tell them our results are inconclusive too, we’re going to teleport to our mothership and then hyperspace to our home galaxy.” Coretta blinked at him. “What? That doesn’t even make sense.” “We’re not prepared for this, Coretta! We can’t even get word back to Earth for another 2 days. If they think we’re not technologically superior, they’ll follow us and —“ The speakers buzzed. “Sir, they say they’re preparing to hyperjump home.” “Son of a bitch!” — For another hour, the crew of Spaceship Clinton watched the videofeed as the rover inched across the martian polar ice cap. Twice, the rover’s wheels got stuck on the ice. “These aliens are full of poo poo.” Bass said. “They can barely maneuver that thing.” Coretta said “Them? We’ve barely got enough fuel to return home, and Bandit’s battery cells are almost dead; it can’t fly back.” “Shame we can’t attack them.” “Shame” Coretta said. magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 18:42 on Apr 29, 2013 |
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Apr 29, 2013 00:45
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systran posted:Here are the revised match ups that I had to make since so many pieces of poo poo signed up and didn't submit. I did these blind without reading the submissions (except for Cancercakes). I will have my judging done by tonight, but I cannot speak for the other judges since they don't speak to me. Two things - first - you're doing an incredible job and thank you for doing this. I'm sure I speak for all the pieces of poo poo when I say thank you. Second, when you update the prompt and post a reply to let me know, (and this is REALLY a maybe if ya think about it kind of a thing) could you post a link to the original prompt? This thing goes so fast sometimes, the prompt gets lost 5 or 10 pages back. It's not necessary, I can put in the effort and all that poo poo, but, figure, hey, since you're AT that original post, you might be able to copy a link to that one... and... I know it's a stupid idea I'll shut up.
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Apr 29, 2013 15:07
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systran posted:Your title sucks. When I read it my head was all like WUMPPAADOOP. While I was reading this I found the whole thing, especially the bad science, very ZERRRMMMmmmmbbppzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, but after I saw the ending I felt much more ZEEP ZEEP YEEEMP!, as I felt the ending was unexpected and actually quite clever: What had been bad science suddenly made sense. Some of the science was still WOMP WOMP wommppp though, as there is no loving way that initiating contact with pi could lead to communicating complex terms to each other over the course of a few hours. Also the three taps, one tap, four taps code for pi would only work if they used a base-10 system... I guess they did? Also - I get that you're saying something about my all-caps sound effects through out the story, but I'm not sure if you're saying it sucked or it was refreshingly awesome. magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 22:06 on Apr 29, 2013 |
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Apr 29, 2013 22:02
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Nubile Hillock posted:Plus, your "science" is terrible
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Apr 30, 2013 12:45
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systran posted:I'm going to post this even though it's in the Dome. Mag7 if you have more questions just PM or IRC me. Don't respond in the thread. THIS IS THE END OF MY CRIT:
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Apr 30, 2013 15:04
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I'm sensing some real loathing and hostility in these crits.
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May 1, 2013 02:08
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Fumblemouse posted:Oh, and the stories have to deal with anarcho-syndicalism or straight up libertarianism. We don't care how, just so long as it's there. Correction: I write as well as I research.
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May 2, 2013 15:36
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In with a submission to Astonishing Creeps!
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May 2, 2013 22:37
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Holy gently caress I have zero creative motivation. It's been a goddamn strenuous past few weeks for me. While many a writer would take that opportunity to write, reflect, do something with the experience, all I want to do is climb under my bed and hibernate.
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May 4, 2013 20:52
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Nikaer Drekin posted:The editors of Amazing Creeps plan to let a crate of scorpions loose in your house if you don't submit. I hope that serves as sufficient motivation. Luckily, I've also got ANOTHER story due this Sunday, and I'm going to be combining them all into this one, steaming pile. I've been reading all the crits, taking notes. This story is going to be a chorus line of gay janitors living in the now.
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May 4, 2013 21:13
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systran posted:Blackgriffon and Mag7, you guys should challenge each other to a Thunderbrawl and then whine about how hard it is instead of submitting. ======================= Dear Editors: Please consider the following story, "Powerless: The Beginning" for inclusion in Amazing Creeps. I am a big fan of your magazine! Last month's article "Park Benches In July" had some fantastic recipes. Thank you very much for your time. Sincerely, Chantal Thundertaint. ======================= POWERLESS: THE BEGINNING 1,123 words Kate wasn’t always dead, it just happened. Her mouth was wide with surprise like she was in a choir, holding that one high note forever. This was all a horrible mistake. I just wanted to scare her so she’d stop screaming into the phone. I didn’t expect the bullet to go through a cop’s windshield. Hell, I didn’t expect to actually kill her with a single shot. Maybe I could have talked some sense into her, you know, get her to call the whole thing off. But it was too late for that now. With Kate dead, my one connection to the aliens was severed. I was stranded down some gravel road in the middle of the night in a pair of speedos and a trench coat. I pulled off the gorilla mask and put it on the hood of the car. I dropped the gun to the ground, and pushed my hair out of my face. Headlights bounced along the gravel road towards us through the woods Snatching up the gun, I scrambled into the woods. Branches scratched my body, and then a limb slammed into my chest. I slipped on the leaves beneath my feet. Flat on my back, I saw stars through the trees. My chest felt like another seven year old was sitting on it. In a matter of seconds I returned to my feet, but it was too late to run. I squatted down and hid. Back at the gravel road, brakes squealed like fingers on a chalkboard as the headlights came to a stop. A door opened, and the interior light came on. It was another cop car. The driver got out with a flashlight, and walked over to Kate’s window. The other cop stood up and leaned on the open door with a phone to his ear. I was relieved to see the police. I could tell them the entire story. This was all just a huge misunderstanding; a crazy woman took me at gunpoint, brought me out here, I struggled to get the gun from her, bang bang, she’s dead, I’m alive, case closed. I put the gun in my coat and was about to stand up when the cop on the phone shouted, “Eric says to search her, she's got one of those things, and then we gotta get back to the factory.” I felt my nuts shrivel into my body. I recognized that nervous high voice. It was Rich. I knew that prick was involved in this mess. How’d he get here so fast? As the other cop opened Kate’s door, the light came on and the car started dinging. Rich hung up the phone and headed up behind the first cop. He said “just hold the flashlight steady, dipshit.” He pushed Kate’s head forward and I heard it thump on the steering wheel. “It’s not here.” “Bullshit. She just died, it can’t be far.” I felt the thing in my hand. I tightened my fist around it and held my breath. “Here give me that light.” Rich straightened up and flicked the light around the woods. I ducked my head back behind the tree. The other cop stood up and said “Looks like it was pulled out of her. They can’t be far. Got another flashlight? We can search these woods — ” “No time, we gotta get back to the factory.” Rich headed back to his car. “All hell’s about to rain down on the city and we need to be in position. They’re dead anyways.” As he headed back to the car, the flashlight’s beam swung around towards me and froze. Time stood still. I couldn’t see anything except that blinding beam. The other cop said, “Hey! Are you coming?” “Shut up I’m calling Eric.” Rich’s attention wasn’t focused on the flashlight at all. He was dialing the phone. If he’d bothered to look my way, he’d have seen me crouched, on either side of the tree, like Wile-E-Coyote hiding behind a phone pole. I’d have been caught, the thing in my hand snatched away, and a bullet pumped through my head. The flashlight flicked away and Rich headed towards the car. He said, “Eric, hey. It’s me. It’s not here. Of course I looked. I don’t know where it went, but we gotta get moving. Be there in ten.” He slid behind the steering wheel and cranked the engine and they bounced back down the path, back towards the highway. Kate’s car continued to ding. Once the headlights were out of sight, I stood up, hearing both knees pop and the tingling sensation swimming to my thighs. “Christ I gotta exercise more.” The sound of my own voice spooked me. I looked around wondering if any other people were out here. I creeped through the woods, back in front of Kate’s headlights. I held my hand out and opened my fist. A small wad of blood and flesh was there, looking like a crumpled napkin soaked in red wine. The thing moved a little. I pulled my hand away in disgust, but then remembered it was dead. When I had pulled the thing from the back of Kate’s neck, I squeezed it until blood dripped from my hand, the way a sponge drips when you wring it out. I was pretty sure it was dead. I poked it with my index finger and unfurled the two leathery wings, revealing a head shaped like a raisin. Six short stalks came out the top, with a tiny bulb at the tip of each one. Maybe those were eyes? I looked back into the car, shielding my eyes from the headlights. “Kate, what the hell were you thinking?” Through the woods to my left, I heard an explosion, followed by a second, louder one. Probably from the Exxon on the corner. Bandits were making their way through the city, looting and destroying whatever they came across. They were going to reduce the city to a pile of rubble before the night was over. If I wanted to do something about this, I had to get moving. Shoving the parasite into my coat pocket, I walked to the driver’s seat. Kate's head was still laying against the steering wheel. I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her out of the car. I checked her pockets and found a phone, twenty dollars, and her license. The photo in her license was beautiful. That was the Kate I'd remember, not this raving lunatic. There was a time I’d have done anything for Kate, but that was before she tried to embed a parasite in my skull. “You drat bitch.” I got in the car, put it in drive, and headed further into the woods. magnificent7 fucked around with this message at 00:46 on May 6, 2013 |
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May 6, 2013 00:17
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Nubile Hillock posted:dear (and unfortunate) mag7, This story wasn't always written: it just happened. I remember the time we walked along the beach, you in your trench coat and me in my booty shorts. You held me then, pressed me close and began to whisper into my ear - but the moment hung forever. Your story is like this, words come like so many waves but they leave nothing; no impression.
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May 7, 2013 19:04
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sebmojo posted:JUDGES WAKE THE gently caress UP
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May 8, 2013 14:25
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