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  • Locked thread
crabrock
Aug 2, 2002


Grimey Drawer

petrol blue posted:

This one gets my vote for tastiest meat. We kill this one last.

e: Except for the slight anachronism in implying they weren't already covered in poo poo.

what the gently caress is this voting thing you're talking about?

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Erogenous Beef
Dec 20, 2006

i know the filthy secrets of your heart


petrol blue posted:

This one gets my vote for tastiest meat. We kill this one last.

e: Except for the slight anachronism in implying they weren't already covered in poo poo.

Well, that's settled then! I'm glad we know that one of the judges' votes is in-- hold on a sec. I have something in my eye:

sentientcarbon posted:

Thunderdome LXXV: He's Not Quite Dead

Judges:
Me
SurreptitiousMuffin (because his avatar reminds me of Chumlee from Pawn Stars)
The Saddest Rhino (because I find the idea of a sad rhino funny)

Oh. Well, then the quantity of fucks given about your opinions can only be discovered via electron microscopy.

TL;DR Stories, signups or crits. Otherwise, zip it.

(Tip: generally considered bad form to post crits in-thread before judgment.)

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


lol

magnificent7
Sep 22, 2005

THUNDERDOME LOSER


ThirdEmperor posted:

Holy poo poo don't post that here. Please.
Pretty much yes.

petrol blue
Feb 9, 2013

sugar and spice
and
ethanol slammers


e:

petrol blue fucked around with this message at Jan 13, 2014 around 18:14

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

please no

please stop this terrible posting

please

Oh right, you're all fuckwit shitcocking globules of crusted penile effluent who wouldn't know good posting if it had a scary red avatar and was yelling at you to shut the hell up.

Which reminds me.

MUFFIN

BRAWL

NOW


I need to beat on something that can fight back i am so mad right now

Sitting Here fucked around with this message at Jan 13, 2014 around 18:49

crabrock
Aug 2, 2002


Grimey Drawer

Sitting Here posted:


Which reminds me.

MUFFIN

BRAWL

NOW


I need to beat on something that can fight back i am so mad right now

Sorry, but this is going to have to wait a tiny bit because Muffin done hosed up.

Muffin & sebmojo

Both of you submitted stories that were far below your caliber. I can't decide which one is better than the other, because they both have major flaws. Namely that both of your character's transitions kind of suck. It's like looking into a bucket of diarrhea and trying to tease out which poo poo belongs to who.

Thus, I am declaring an emergency ROUND 2 of your little brawl so that I may better judge your excrement.

Muffin vs. sebmojo round 2: We don't get to go home

You were headed to the moon but you overshot. Now you're flying out into space and out of fuel. NASA has just informed you that there's no way for you to get back. You're going to die. Radio just cut out.

Make it count. No self-loathing or despair. No aliens.

Wordcount: 500

Due: Saturday the 18th sometime. It seems you ignore my time zones anyway so just get it in this weekend you assholes.

Mercedes
Mar 7, 2006

"So you Jesus?"

"And you black?"

"Nigga prove it!"

And so Black Jesus turned water into a bucket of chicken. And He saw that it was good.



No regrets! Onward, full steam ahead! Mag7 has posted both his brawl and his week's submission. You owe me 25 cents, Rhino.

Teriyaki Koinku
Nov 25, 2008



When should I expect the next prompt for sign ups since this week is closed already?

Great seeing that this thread has been so popular recently! (Maybe not so great for the judges that have to crit, though )

crabrock
Aug 2, 2002


Grimey Drawer

TheRamblingSoul posted:

When should I expect the next prompt for sign ups since this week is closed already?

Great seeing that this thread has been so popular recently! (Maybe not so great for the judges that have to crit, though )

The next prompt will come out when the judges pick a winner.

also, are you finally going to get your name off the cowards list?

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?list=cowards

(user/pass = thunderdome/thunderdome)

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk

TheRamblingSoul posted:

When should I expect the next prompt for sign ups since this week is closed already?

Great seeing that this thread has been so popular recently! (Maybe not so great for the judges that have to crit, though )

A day or so. Judgment comes fast, crits come slower. This was a behemoth of a week so might take a little longer.

Teriyaki Koinku
Nov 25, 2008



crabrock posted:

The next prompt will come out when the judges pick a winner.

also, are you finally going to get your name off the cowards list?

http://writocracy.com/thunderdome/?list=cowards

(user/pass = thunderdome/thunderdome)

Haha, I didn't even know that's a thing.

In that case, hell yeah!

Echo Cian
Jun 16, 2011



All these posts to scroll through and they're not even funny or worth brawling ove-

Sitting Here posted:

I need to beat on something that can fight back i am so mad right now

hey

hey you

You think only Muffin's good enough for you?

He's too busy fooling around with your nemesis.

Bring it.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007


Blood Empress of Thunderdome

Tap to emit spores


Clapping Larry

Echo Cian posted:

All these posts to scroll through and they're not even funny or worth brawling ove-


hey

hey you

You think only Muffin's good enough for you?

He's too busy fooling around with your nemesis.

Bring it.


I am honored and invigorated by your challenge.

I accept; I beg only a fair and competent arbiter.

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


Sitting Here posted:

I am honored and invigorated by your challenge.

I accept; I beg only a fair and competent arbiter.

Add handsome in there and you've got me, so I'll do it.

Write up to 2000 words of cyberpunk/technoir/space-based near-future sci-fi. Any of those three, interpreted how you want. Writing about violent criminals and street mercenaries (my ouvre, in other words) may get you bonus points but ain't necessary at all. If you write a cyberpunk oppressed housewife story that gets the cyberpunk part across in a way that makes sense, I'll probably like it even more.

Deadline is Sunday night. If that's too short, let me know and we can figure something out.

so like, write some poo poo

Martello fucked around with this message at Jan 13, 2014 around 23:06

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


I meant this Sunday night.

ReptileChillock
Jan 7, 2014

by Lowtax


Everyone's sick of this cyberBUNK bullshit, Martello. I'll brawl you for judgedom, 500 words due thursday night.

ThirdEmperor
Aug 7, 2013

BEHOLD MY GLORY

AND THEN

BRAWL ME


ThirdEmperor posted:

Or I will be forced to brawl you until you're crying like a little baby.

Fuggit. I'm bored and everyone else is getting their brawl funsies.

Magnificent7. You can do better than that. Brawl me.

Mercedes
Mar 7, 2006

"So you Jesus?"

"And you black?"

"Nigga prove it!"

And so Black Jesus turned water into a bucket of chicken. And He saw that it was good.


ThirdEmperor posted:

Fuggit. I'm bored and everyone else is getting their brawl funsies.

Magnificent7. You can do better than that. Brawl me.

A CONTENDER APPEARS!

I shall judge this.


Your prompt is to tell me a story. 500 words.

It's due next week Monday 11:59 EST!


GO




...WAIT!!! Your rule, gentlemen. Your story cannot start at the beginning, nor finish at the end.

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


ReptileChillock posted:

Everyone's sick of this cyberBUNK bullshit, Martello. I'll brawl you for judgedom, 500 words due thursday night.

How will they know what their prompt is, weirdo? Will it change if you win?

magnificent7
Sep 22, 2005

THUNDERDOME LOSER


ThirdEmperor posted:

Fuggit. I'm bored and everyone else is getting their brawl funsies.

Magnificent7. You can do better than that. Brawl me.
Goddammit stop sucking me into poo poo I can't deliver. I'm like Carlito. I keep trying to get out, but you keep pulling me back in.

Here is my commitment this week. I'm going to use WriteOrDie to write 500 words every night. They are going to be packed with description, since I suffer from "White Room Syndrome" in my stories. Every night. 500 words of over bloated description to get some perspective in my poo poo writing.

I'll pick the least suckass of the collection and submit it to your brawlfetish. Fine. Thank you for pushing me out of my comfort zone*

* doing nothing at all.

quote:

Your rule, gentlemen. Your story cannot start at the beginning, nor finish at the end.
Awesome. Perfect. Love it.

magnificent7 fucked around with this message at Jan 14, 2014 around 02:06

ReptileChillock
Jan 7, 2014

by Lowtax


Martello posted:

How will they know what their prompt is, weirdo? Will it change if you win?

that's the idea!!! if I have to read another fukken cyberJUNK story i will srsly barf in my own mouth


and then eat it

ThirdEmperor
Aug 7, 2013

BEHOLD MY GLORY

AND THEN

BRAWL ME


I'm not gonna tell you how to brawl, but to do just that, sounds like an absolute crap idea.

Don't spew out stories like literary diarrhea. Take some time and polish your stories, edit and re-edit. If they're unsalvageable, figure out why and don't make the same mistake twice. If they're flat, inject some life. Thunderdome is a harsh place and you must be harsh on yourself more than anyone else.

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


ReptileChillock posted:

that's the idea!!! if I have to read another fukken cyberJUNK story i will srsly barf in my own mouth


and then eat it

gently caress off bitch

we can brawl for whatever else. making echo chamber and making GBS threads rear step outta their comfort zones.

It's what THUNDERDOME is about

ReptileChillock
Jan 7, 2014

by Lowtax


cyberpunk is the bitcoins of literature

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


you're the Pawn Stars of humanity

Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW


But seriously shut up and either write or don't post.

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010


Rhino and I have passed our thoughts onto sentientcarbon. Results whenever he wakes up and writes the post.

Also holy gently caress you idiots wrote 40+ stories and at least 30 of them are science fiction, biblical, or biblical science fiction. Jesus Christ I am so sick of robot god stories right now.

Quidthulhu
Dec 17, 2003

Stand down, men! It's only smooching!


"How dare you write about medical and technological advancements in a world without death!"

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010


Oh god, I'm sorry. I take it back. Being original or interesting and trying to take a premise anywhere but the most obvious place is just too difficult.

Captain Trips
May 23, 2013
The sudden reminder that I have no fucking clue what I'm talking about

magnificent7 posted:

I'm like Carlito. I keep trying to get out, but you keep pulling me back in.

That was Michael Corleone.

Meinberg
Oct 9, 2011

ICE-MEIN


Captain Trips posted:

That was Michael Corleone.

Well, since I'm pretty sure that poo poo posting is not allowed in the Dome, I'm going to go ahead and assume that you're asking for a brawl. In which, I will oblige you. Shall we say something related to the Mafia, due in by this time next week?

Or are you going to bitch out and make some poo poo posts like the lovely poster you are?

magnificent7
Sep 22, 2005

THUNDERDOME LOSER


Captain Trips posted:

That was Michael Corleone.
Carlito's Way. You say potato, I say tomato.

edit: well goddamn. I suppose it's in both.

magnificent7 fucked around with this message at Jan 14, 2014 around 04:08

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk

crabrock posted:

Muffin & sebmojo
Muffin vs. sebmojo round 2: We don't get to go home

You were headed to the moon but you overshot. Now you're flying out into space and out of fuel. NASA has just informed you that there's no way for you to get back. You're going to die. Radio just cut out.

Make it count. No self-loathing or despair. No aliens.

Wordcount: 500
Jim Spaceman’s Adventure and the Fuel
479 words

Jim Spaceman tapped the fuel gauge. The fuel gauge which showed how much fuel he had was pointing towards ‘low’ which meant his fuel was very low. “Oh dear,” he said to himself. “I am nearly out of fuel.”

Verily, he was! The radio had ceased transmission, and Jim was struck by the sudden lack of candour. "Friends!" he said unto the empty air "though we have parted, I hear you in my heart! Such sweetness you brought. Oh, but a flower plucked too early smells only the sweeter!"

Luckily he was flying in his space ship through a patch of space that was full of space rocks that had space houses on them. They drifted by outside his space ship like grey pitted golf balls with space houses on them. “Hello in there,” he called through his radio after first depressing the radio call button. “Hello in there,” he said again.

From the houses came no reply. Jim wondered by whom they had been abandoned, and why. Their windows stared at him in the manner that eyes would stare at him. He would not be alone for this final tranche of his journey into death. The last lonely eschatonaut would drift his last through the suburbs and flower beds of joyous decay. Suddenly, there came from a window a haunting sound. It reminded Jim of honey, ash and love. "Shut up bro I'm watching TV," it said.

"Comely maiden!" cried Jim into his space intercom, "I must know you!"

Jim activated the thruster button of his space capsule, flicking up the polycarbonate plastic protector shield and pushing down on the red button labelled ‘thruster’ before realising that he was out of fuel and the thrusters were unable to provide thrust without fuel. Hastily he put on his space suit. He opened the airlock by turning the key labelled ‘open airl ck’, noting in passing that the ‘o’ had worn off the ‘open airlock’ sign. In a few minutes he was in space.

He alighted upon the space rock, and walked towards the house. The haunting sounds of rugby came from within, presumably coming from a television set, as it would do difficult to play rugby inside such a small domicile without causing significant damage. Jim knew what he must do to woo his love. He began to pound a seductive rhythm upon the walls, then let loose his heart's song. It was "Too Drunk to gently caress" by the Dead Kennedys.

At that moment the space door opened and there standing in the doorway of the space house was the most beautiful woman Jim had ever seen, wearing a spacesuit. The spacesuit had a shiny visor. The woman beckoned Jim Spaceman inside and he entered the space house. And he lived there in that house until he died, 34 years later.

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010


I worked really hard on this I hope it's ok.

Jim Spaceman’s Adventure and the Fuel
479 words

Jim Spaceman tapped the fuel gauge. The fuel gauge which showed how much fuel he had was pointing towards ‘low’ which meant his fuel was very low. “Oh dear,” he said to himself. “I am nearly out of fuel.”

Verily, he was! The radio had ceased transmission, and Jim was struck by the sudden lack of candour. "Friends!" he said unto the empty air "though we have parted, I hear you in my heart! Such sweetness you brought. Oh, but a flower plucked too early smells only the sweeter!"

Luckily he was flying in his space ship through a patch of space that was full of space rocks that had space houses on them. They drifted by outside his space ship like grey pitted golf balls with space houses on them. “Hello in there,” he called through his radio after first depressing the radio call button. “Hello in there,” he said again.

From the houses came no reply. Jim wondered by whom they had been abandoned, and why. Their windows stared at him in the manner that eyes would stare at him. He would not be alone for this final tranche of his journey into death. The last lonely eschatonaut would drift his last through the suburbs and flower beds of joyous decay. Suddenly, there came from a window a haunting sound. It reminded Jim of honey, ash and love. "Shut up bro I'm watching TV," it said.

"Comely maiden!" cried Jim into his space intercom, "I must know you!"

Jim activated the thruster button of his space capsule, flicking up the polycarbonate plastic protector shield and pushing down on the red button labelled ‘thruster’ before realising that he was out of fuel and the thrusters were unable to provide thrust without fuel. Hastily he put on his space suit. He opened the airlock by turning the key labelled ‘open airl ck’, noting in passing that the ‘o’ had worn off the ‘open airlock’ sign. In a few minutes he was in space.

He alighted upon the space rock, and walked towards the house. The haunting sounds of rugby came from within, presumably coming from a television set, as it would do difficult to play rugby inside such a small domicile without causing significant damage. Jim knew what he must do to woo his love. He began to pound a seductive rhythm upon the walls, then let loose his heart's song. It was "Too Drunk to gently caress" by the Dead Kennedys.

At that moment the space door opened and there standing in the doorway of the space house was the most beautiful woman Jim had ever seen, wearing a spacesuit. The spacesuit had a shiny visor. The woman beckoned Jim Spaceman inside and he entered the space house. And he lived there in that house until he died, 34 years later.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010



Legit Cyberpunk

whoa what are the odds

Mercedes
Mar 7, 2006

"So you Jesus?"

"And you black?"

"Nigga prove it!"

And so Black Jesus turned water into a bucket of chicken. And He saw that it was good.


Captain Trips posted:

That was Michael Corleone.

Meinberg posted:

Well, since I'm pretty sure that poo poo posting is not allowed in the Dome, I'm going to go ahead and assume that you're asking for a brawl. In which, I will oblige you. Shall we say something related to the Mafia, due in by this time next week?

Or are you going to bitch out and make some poo poo posts like the lovely poster you are?

I WILL ALSO OFFICIATE THIS MOTHERFUCKING BRAWL

Your prompt, you idiot newbies. The Amish Mafia

You have 500 words and one week. Make it happen you lovely humans.

Captain Trips
May 23, 2013
The sudden reminder that I have no fucking clue what I'm talking about

Mercedes posted:

I WILL ALSO OFFICIATE THIS MOTHERFUCKING BRAWL

Your prompt, you idiot newbies. The Amish Mafia

You have 500 words and one week. Make it happen you lovely humans.

Um, okay I guess.

Meinberg
Oct 9, 2011

ICE-MEIN


Mercedes posted:

I WILL ALSO OFFICIATE THIS MOTHERFUCKING BRAWL

Your prompt, you idiot newbies. The Amish Mafia

You have 500 words and one week. Make it happen you lovely humans.

Let's do this!

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crabrock
Aug 2, 2002


Grimey Drawer

sebmojo posted:

Jim Spaceman’s Adventure and the Fuel
479 words

Jim Spaceman tapped the fuel gauge. This is good. Sets up a sense of foreboding danger. I like it. The fuel gauge which showed how much fuel he had was pointing towards ‘low’ which meant his fuel was very low. Oh, thanks for clarifying. I was wondering if it was a malfunction or something. Anticipating what your readers might think is the sign of a good writer. “Oh dear,” he said to himself. showing that he is alone--nice touch “I am nearly out of fuel.”

Verily, he was! I'm not usually a fan of adverbs, but this works well. The radio had ceased transmission, and Jim was struck by the sudden lack of candour. "Friends!" he said unto the empty air "though we have parted, I hear you in my heart! Such sweetness you brought. Oh, but a flower plucked too early smells only the sweeter!" I like that he is focusing on the positive aspects of missing his friends. Like all their good memories.

Luckily he was flying in his space ship through a patch of space that was full of space rocks that had space houses on them. lucky for him! They drifted by outside his space ship like grey pitted golf balls with space houses on them. good description “Hello in there,” he called through his radio after first depressing the radio call button. “Hello in there,” he said again. I'm getting worried nobody is there.

From the houses came no reply. My heart is beating fast with this tension! Jim wondered by whom they had been abandoned, and why. Good questions! Their windows stared at him in the manner that eyes would stare at him. poo poo. deep. He would not be alone for this final tranche of his journey into death. The last lonely eschatonaut would drift his last through the suburbs and flower beds of joyous decay. this is so bittersweet Suddenly, there came from a window a haunting sound. oh poo poo. that is spooky! It reminded Jim of honey, ash and love. "Shut up bro I'm watching TV," it said.

"Comely maiden!" cried Jim into his space intercom, "I must know you!" good biblical reference. legit.

Jim activated the thruster button of his space capsule, I'm glad he saved his fuel, or knocked a little bit loose with all that tapping! flicking up the polycarbonate plastic protector shield this sounds very high tech! and pushing down on the red button labelled ‘thruster’ before realising that he was out of fuel and the thrusters were unable to provide thrust without fuel. oh no! tap harder! Hastily he put on his space suit. faster! the maiden will be left behind soon! He opened the airlock by turning the key labelled ‘open airl ck’, noting in passing that the ‘o’ had worn off the ‘open airlock’ sign. Now I am wondering what happened to that O! Maybe some sort of space disaster? In a few minutes he was in space. I bet it is beautiful out there.

He alighted upon the space rock, and walked towards the house. i'm getting nervous as to what he's going to find! The haunting sounds of rugby came from within, presumably coming from a television set, as it would do difficult to play rugby inside such a small domicile without causing significant damage. good point Jim knew what he must do to woo his love. He began to pound a seductive rhythm upon the walls, then let loose his heart's song. It was "Too Drunk to gently caress" by the Dead Kennedys. this is a good way to signal that you are an intelligent life form so the inhabitants don't blast you with a space gun. I will remember this, just in case.

At that moment the space door opened and there standing in the doorway of the space house was the most beautiful woman Jim had ever seen, wearing a spacesuit. awww, matching! so cute. The spacesuit had a shiny visor. The woman beckoned Jim Spaceman inside and he entered the space house. And he lived there in that house until he died, 34 years later. super cute.

This is a good story. I totally felt the tension of being stranded in space. There was a clear goal [get to space woman], a clear obstacle [no fuel], and a clear resolution [they lived happily ever after]. I really like how you handled the sci-fi stuff. It felt very real--like I was watching a Michael Bay summer blockbuster about a spaceman lost in space in his space ship.

Kudos. This may be what you needed to push you over the top.

SurreptitiousMuffin posted:

I worked really hard on this I hope it's ok.

Jim Spaceman's Adventure and the Fuel
479 words

Jim Spaceman Is this really his name? did you even try? tapped the fuel gauge. The fuel gauge which showed how much fuel he had Really? he had fuel? I think you mean how much his spaceship had. was pointing towards ‘low’ which meant his fuel was very low. Oh, thanks for that clarification you loving bitch. do you think i'm retarded? like seriously? do you think my IQ is lower than yours? that's what you're implying here. Do you have a problem with me? do you have a problem with retards? are you some sort of retard-hating hate-crimer? what the gently caress is wrong with you? “Oh dear,” he said to himself. “I am nearly out of fuel.” where the gently caress are the quotations here? did you just fall out of your mother's grimey womb and let her poo poo the afterbirth all over a page and this is what came out? was your mother retarded and abusive? is there where your hatred of retards comes from, you sick gently caress?

Verily, he was! WHAT THE gently caress IS WRONG WITH YOU. you’re write ficition like i imagine those poor little african kids would write fiction. like somebody just took a typerwriter out there instead of a can of beans and was like “hey kid, want to earn a living instead of getting free handouts?” you’re that bad. as bad as a god drat libertarian using poor african kids to prove a political point. gently caress you. The radio had ceased transmission, and Jim was struck by the sudden lack of candour. "Friends!" he said unto the empty air "though we have parted, I hear you in my heart! your heart doesn’t have a cochlea you vapid, unscientific trilobite. you lovely excuse for a primate. you disgusting, slimy, twelve-legged arthropod. You were fossilized in the moment of your greatest failure, and put on display in a museum. Not under “old poo poo that sucks,” but under “greatest failure the world has ever know.” Such sweetness you brought. Oh, but a flower plucked too early smells only the sweeter!" this is scientifically inaccurate. if Francis Bacon knew this is the type of poo poo that would be poo poo out of your mouth he would have never invented science. Galileo would have looked down at his shriveled cock instead of into the heavens. Newton would have drowned himself in one of his alchemy experiments. Stephen Hawkings would have just killed himself rather than live another day as a drooling pile of poo poo that did some science once (no offense to retards).

Luckily he was flying in his space ship through a patch of space that was full of space rocks that had space houses on them. asdkljkhsadjhdsahfldsa i can’t even tell you how stupid this is. there are literally no words. even in german. I asked a german. A real one. He just shook his head. all the words that are needed to describe how awful this is died off when surprise sex and pedophilia become unpopular cultural choices. The only words that can adequately capture the essence of how god drat imbecilic this is are literally the dying words of pedophiles and rapists. Only their twisted, broken brains are capable of appreciating logic so twisted, narrative so insipid. They drifted by outside his space ship like grey pitted golf balls with space houses on them. “Hello in there,” he called through his radio after first depressing the radio call button. “Hello in there,” he said again. what the gently caress. use quotation marks when somebody is speaking.

From the houses came no reply. Oh really? tell me all the other things that didn’t come from the house, in the most passive voice please. “Also dinosaurs and robots were not to be coming from the house, which was a place which normally emanated things such as replies, dinosaurs, and robots.” Jesus, Joseph, and Marilyn, I’ve never expeirenced more wreteched prose, and I was a copy editor for Dan Brown. He’d come in high on coke and just literally drool on a page and it was better than this. Once I mistook a piece of poo poo-smeared toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his shoe for a manuscript, and it read better than your drudgery. Jim wondered by whom they had been abandoned, and why. Their windows stared at him in the manner that eyes would stare at him. He would not be alone for this final tranche of his journey into death. The last lonely eschatonaut I WILL loving KILL YOU would drift his last through the suburbs and flower beds of joyous decay. Suddenly, there came from a window a haunting sound. It reminded Jim of honey, ash and love. "Shut up bro I'm watching TV," it said.

"Comely maiden!" cried Jim into his spaWHERE DOES MY LIFE GO FROM HERE? HOW CAN I MOVE ON PAST THIS poo poo. THIS IS LITERALLY MAKING ME SUICIDAL.ce intercom, "I must know you!"

Jim activated the thruster button of his space capsule, flicking up the polycarbonate plastic protector shield and pushiI HAVE A GUN SITTING ON MY LAPng down on the red button labelled ‘thruster’ before realising that he was out of fuel and the thrusters were unable to provide thrust without fuel. Hastily he put on his space suit. He opened the airlock by turning the key labelled ‘open airl ck’, noting in passing that the ‘o’ had worn off the ‘open airlock’ sign. In a few minutes he was in space.

He alighted upon the space rock, and walked towIT IS LOADEDards the house. The haunting sounds of rugby came from within, presumably coming from a television set, as it would do difficult to play rugby inside such a small domicile without causing significant damage. Jim knew what he must do to woo his love. He began to pound a seductive rhythm upon the walls, then let loose his heart's song. It was "Too Drunk to IT’S HEAVY. SO HEAVY. BUT IT FEELS GOOD. IT FEELS RIGHT. THIS IS WHAT I NEED TO DO. gently caress" by the Dead Kennedys.

At that moment the space door opened and there standing in the doorway of the space house was the most beautiful woman Jim had ever seen, wearing a spacesuit. The spacesuit had a shiny visor. The woman beckoned Jim Spaceman inside and he entered the space house. And he lived there in that house until he died, 34 years later.

I WILL NEVER GET THIS STORY OUT OF MY HEAD. I WILL NEVER FEEL NORMAL AGAIN. I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO OBSERVE A CHILD LAUGHING AND FEEL JOY. MY WIFE’S EYES LOOK DEAD AND HOLLOW INSIDE. SHE CAN SEE THE MONSTER YOU HAVE TURNED ME INTO. SHE KNOWS THAT THERE IS SOMETHING IRREVERSIBLY CHANGED IN MY SOUL. MY CONSCIOUSNESS IS DOG poo poo. MY PARENTS JUST CALLED AND I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO SPEAK: MY VERY ESSENCE REEKS OF FAILURE AND DECAY. THEY HAVE WRITTEN ME OUT OF THEIR WILL. THERE IS NO GOING BACK TO A TIME BEFORE HAVING READ YOUR HORRIBLE ODE TO HUFFING RAT POISON OFF A DIVE BAR TOILET. WITH ALL THE DRILLS IN THE WORLD I COULDN’T TREPAN MY SKULL ENOUGH TIMES. I’D HAVE TO REMOVE MY ENTIRE FRONTAL CORTEX WITH A RUSTY SPOON UNTIL I WAS NOTHING BUT A WRITHING PILE OF CORPULENCE ON THE FLOOR TO REGAIN MY DIGNITY. I SAY THIS, A MAN WHO HAS MASTURBATED TO TUBGIRL, IN PUBLIC. THIS IS THE WORST THING I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED, AND I’M HAPPY I LIVE IN A COUNTRY WHERE I CAN EXERCISE MY RIGHT TO OWN A FIREARM, BECAUSE RIGHT NOW IT’S THE ONLY THING THAT GIVES ME SOLACE. I DON’T EVEN CARE IF MY SPIRIT IS TOO ROTTEN TO GET INTO HEAVEN. AN ETERNITY OF BURNING IN HELL IS PREFERABLE TO BEING ASSOCIATED WITH YOUR STORY. THE GUN BARREL IS COOL AGAINST MY TEMPLE; I AM SWEATING. I FEEL ILL. I NEED TO BE FREE.

judgement post

Muffin wins.

Will post crits of your other stories later when i am resuscitated.

crabrock fucked around with this message at Jan 14, 2014 around 05:31

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