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crabrock
Aug 2, 2002

I

AM

MAGNIFICENT






SH and i switched user names for a bit, so every post by me is now actually her, and every post by her is by me now

try to keep up

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Martello
Apr 29, 2012

by XyloJW
Entenzahn, your flash rule: story must prominently feature these two things from the folktale, paraphrasing from Fanky's post:

Fanky Malloons posted:

mandra-somebody with a penis in front and another in back

hassidic jewish lizards

Ironic Twist
Aug 3, 2008

I'm bokeh, you're bokeh
In with a 3 and an 8 and a :toxx:, a :toxx:, my kingdom for a :toxx:

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?

Grizzled Patriarch posted:

Let's keep this train rollin'. In with 4 and 4.
THE QUEEN WITH A HUNDRED LOVERS
National Origin: Native America (Nahua)
Your numbers also brought up a super long tale, so you get cliff notes + opening paragraphs too:

quote:

The following historical narrative of the Mesoamerican Nahua ruler Nezahualpilli is contained in a historical account written between 1600— 1608 and commissioned by the Spanish viceroy to New Spain. Despite the fact that the narrative was committed to print, oral tradition provided his primary resource. Therefore, the tale of “The Queen with a Hundred Lovers” is best classified as a folk history as distinct from historiography (a scientific history). As such, it reflects a worldview and attitudes toward the past more than an unbiased view of historical events:

When Axaiacatzin, King of Mexico, and other lords sent their daughters to King Nezahualpilli, for him to choose one to be his queen and lawful wife, whose son might succeed to the inheritance, she who had the highest claims among them, for nobility of birth and rank, was Chachiuhnenetzin, the young daughter of the Mexican king. She had been brought up by the monarch in a separate palace, with great pomp, and with numerous attendants, as became the daughter of so great a monarch. The number of servants attached to her household exceeded two thousand.

Young as she was, she was exceedingly artful and vicious; so that, finding herself alone, and seeing that her people feared her on account of her rank and importance, she began to give way to an unlimited indulgence of her power. Whenever she saw a young man who pleased her fancy she gave secret orders that he should be brought to her, and shortly afterwards he would be put to death. She would then order a statue or effigy of his person to be made, and, adorning it with rich clothing, gold, and jewelry, place it in the apartment in which she lived. The number of statues of those whom she thus sacrificed was so great as to almost fill the room.

---

PootieTang posted:

IN with snake eyes (1 and 1)
Yes I know what snake eyes means tyvm

GIFTS FOR MY SON MOHAMMED
National Origin: Egypt

quote:

There was once a fellah, who being annoyed with his wife left the village and went away; he came to another village, went to a house there and begged. The mistress came to him, “Where do you come from (she asked)?”

He replied, “I am come from hell.”

She said, “Have you not seen my son Mohammed there?”

He answered, “Yes I saw him, poor fellow, naked and hungry.”

When she heard that she cried exceedingly, and went and got some clothes, and bread, and money, and gave them to him, saying, “Give these to my son Mohammed along with many remembrances from me.”

The fellow took the clothes and went away, saying to himself, “It’s not my wife only who is a fool, all women are the same.”

Presently the Turkish soldier who was the woman’s husband came home and found his wife crying, so he asks, “What’s the matter, Fatűna?”

She replied, “A man has come from hell, who has seen my son Mohammed there miserable, and naked, and hungry; so I have given him some linen clothes and some food to take to my son Mohammed.”

The soldier cried, “You are a fool; no one ever comes back from hell! Where’s the fellow?”

She said, “He is gone in such and such a direction.”

The soldier mounted his horse and rode off in order to overtake the fellah and recover from him the linen clothes.

The fellah saw him coming in the distance and hid the clothes in the well of a waterwheel and said to the irrigator, “Take a piastre [coin of the Ottoman Turkish Empire] and bring a stick from the garden yonder.”

The lad jumped over the walls; the soldier came and asks the fellah, “Good Sir, has no one passed this way with a bundle of clothes?”

He replied, “Yes, soldier, he has just jumped over into the garden.”

The soldier said, “Hold the horse till I come back.”

The fellah mounted the horse and took the clothes and went off. The soldier searched and searched; there is no one (to be seen). When he returns from the garden he cannot find the horse. He took his departure and returned home.

His wife came to him, “Where’s the horse?”

He answered, “I have sent it to Mohammed in order that he may ride it in hell.
---

Phobia posted:

okay well I'm in. 2 and 12, that sounds just fine.
AKI GAHUK, THE FATHER OF THE CROCODILES
National Origin: Malaysia/Borneo

quote:

Long ago Aki [“grandfather”] Gahuk was chief of Kampong Tengkurus. He was a very old man and he had seven sons and four daughters. His sons all wished to take wives, and his daughters, husbands, and so they married. At last Aki Gahuk became so, old that he could no longer walk, and his children did not wish to provide for him. Then Aki Gahuk said to them, “Why do you not wish to support me, for I am an old man and can no longer get my living?” But his children answered that they wished he were dead, as he was only an encumbrance to them. So Aki Gahuk wept and said, “If you wish me dead you had better put me into the river, for although you give me food, you give me no clothes and I am naked and ashamed.”

Then his children put him into the river, for they did not wish to buy clothes for him; and Aki Gahuk stopped there in the water, and every night and morning they gave him food. There was a large stone in the middle of the stream and when he was cold Aki Gahuk used to climb slowly up on to this and sit there like a toad. Now after he had been in the water for three or four months, Aki Gahuk no longer climbed the big stone and his feet and legs as far as his knees became like those of a crocodile. His children who brought him food saw that his feet had become like a crocodile’s and said, “Father, we thought you would die but you are becoming a crocodile.” Then all the brothers and sisters came together to look at their father and said to him, “Father, if you are not going to die, let us take you home again to the house and give you clothes, for we do not wish you to become a crocodile.”

But Aki Gahuk said, “How can I go home with you, for I have become a crocodile. Before, you had no pity on me and now that you have pity on me I am unable to go home.” So his children wept and said that they did not wish him to turn into a crocodile and Aki Gahuk said to them, “You can tell this story to your descendants; perhaps also it is good that I should become a crocodile. On feast days you can call to me, and when there is a flood I will take you across the river on my back.” After some days his whole body became like that of a crocodile and his children were afraid that he would eat men, but he could still speak and he told them that he would never eat men though perhaps his descendants might do so. Then after a year Aki Gahuk called to his children and told them that he wished to go seawards, saying that if his children went in that direction they were to call him, “For,” said he, “I wish to take a wife.”

Said his children, “How will you take a wife for there are no other crocodiles?”

“I will call one to me,” said their father, “I will call the Pang (iguana) and she will become my wife.” Then Aki Gahuk went seawards and the Pang became his wife and from their offspring arose all the crocodiles.
---

Guiness13 posted:

In with dueces, 2 and 2
THE RAT PRINCESS AND THE GREEDY MAN
National origin: Nagaland (India)

quote:

One day a man was going to his field, and on the way he caught a rat. He brought it home and put it in a box, and when later on he went to look at it he found the rat had turned into a beautiful girl.

When he saw her he said to himself, “If I could marry her to the richest man in the world I should become a rich man myself.” So he went to find the greatest man in the world, and he came to the Chief.

He said, “You are the greatest man in the world, and you had better marry her.”

But the Chief said, “I should like to marry her, but you say that she must marry the greatest man in the world. Now I am weaker than water, because if I go into a river in flood it carries me away. Hence water is stronger than I am.”

The man went to Water, and spoke to it as he had spoken to the Chief. But Water said, “I am not the strongest, for when I am still Wind comes and blows me into waves. Wind is greater than I am.” So the man went to Wind,

But Wind said, “Mountain is stronger than I, because, blow as hard as I can, I cannot stir it.” So he went to Mountain, who said, “Yes, I am stronger than most things, but even a rat can pierce my side when he pleases. Hence the rat is greater than I.” The man knew no where else to go, so he came home, and he found the girl turned into a rat as she was before.
---

Amused Frog posted:

In with 2 and 12.
THE TIGER AND THE FROG
National Origin: Tibet

quote:

Once upon a time, in the days when the world was young and all animals understood each other’s languages, an old, old tiger named Tsuden went out hunting for some food. As he was creeping quietly along the banks of a stream a frog saw him and was badly scared. He thought, “This tiger is coming to eat me up.” He climbed up on a little bunch of sod and when the tiger came near, called out, “Hello, where are you going?”

The tiger answered, “I am going up into the forest to hunt something to eat. I haven’t had any food for two or three days and I am very weak and hungry. I guess I’ll eat you up. You’re awfully small, but I can’t find anything else. Who are you, anyway?”

The frog replied, swelling up as big as he could, “I am the king of the frogs. I can jump any distance and can do anything. Here’s a river, let’s see who can jump across.”

The tiger answered, “All right,” and as he crouched ready to jump, the frog slipped up and got hold of the end of his tail with his mouth, and when the tiger jumped he was thrown away up the bank across the river. After Tsuden got across he turned around and looked and looked into the river for the frog. But as the tiger turned, the frog let loose of his tail and said, “What are you looking for, old tiger, down there?”

The tiger whirled quickly, very much surprised to see the frog away up the bank behind him.

Said the frog, “Now I beat you in that test, let’s try another. Suppose we both vomit.” The tiger being empty could only throw up a little water, but the frog spit up some tiger hair.

The tiger much astonished asked, “How do you happen to be able to do that?”

The frog replied, “Oh, yesterday I killed a tiger and ate him, and these are just a few of the hairs that aren’t yet digested.”

The tiger began to think to himself, “He must be very strong. Yesterday he killed and ate a tiger, and now he has jumped farther than I did over the river. Guess I’d better slip away before he eats me.” Then he sidled away a little piece, quickly turned and began to run away as fast as he could, up the mountain.

He met a fox coming down who asked, “What’s the matter, why are you running away so fast?”

“Say,” the old tiger said, “I met the king of all the frogs, who is very strong. Why, he has been eating tigers and he jumped across the river and landed farther up the bank than I did.”

The fox laughed at him and said, “What, are you running away from that little frog? He is nothing at all. I am only a little fox, but I could put my foot on him and kill him.”

The tiger answered, “I know what this frog can do, but if you think you can kill him, I’ll go back with you. I am afraid you will get frightened and run away, however, so we must tie our tails together.”

So they tied their tails fast in a lot of knots and went down to see the frog, who still sat on his piece of sod, looking as important as he could. He saw them coming and called out to the fox, “You’re a great fox. You haven’t paid your toll to the king today nor brought any meat either. Is that a dog you’ve got tied to your tail and are you bringing him for my dinner?”

Then the tiger was frightened, for he thought the fox was taking him to the king to be eaten. So he turned and ran and ran as fast as he could go, dragging the poor fox with him, and if they are not dead, they are still running today.

God Over Djinn
Jan 17, 2005

onwards and upwards
:siren: sebmojo vs Oxxidation brawl results :siren:

Well boy howdy did you fellas ever gently caress this right up. What, did you underestimate the prompt because it was simple? Because making your reader feel something authentic isn't easy. But I trusted you guys to handle it with your usual deftness. You let me down. Honestly, I hated both of these stories; I hated them enough that I had to go get a second opinion, but now that I know at least one other person hated them, I'm reasonably certain I'm not losing my mind. Here's why:

- You both gave me characters that were removed from the emotional center of the story. Mojo gave me a dude who doesn't seem to have any reason to care about any of the characters who are actually having sad experiences, and spends most of the time being pompous and nattering about his own job; even if this was a very clever commentary on the state of the world and grief, it still sucked. Oxxi gave me a character who reacts to every situation by ignoring it and/or running away, with plenty of shrugging, and even though he's at least there when the Sad Thing happened, I know absolutely nothing about the character to whom it happens. What, were you guys scared? Why'd you back off on this? I didn't want to see sadness in the form of 'gee, it sure is sad when sad things happen to people for reasons I don't understand.'

- You both gave me unutterably boring, conflictless kinds of sadness. Mojo's was pretty stretched; sure, I buy why the situation is sad in general (albeit I'm not buying it for your character), but the connections required to make it meaningful (Hans's feelings about 'promises' with Melissa's promise; the land and the memories of Melissa's disappearance) just aren't in the story. Likewise, no conflict for your character, although you hint once at what the conflict should have been, if you'd written it even marginally competently - the character's conflict between putting on a happy face to get through the day, and giving in to fuckedupedness. Likewise for you, Oxxi, although for 'stretched' I'd go so far as 'contrived'. Your characters are sad because... some terribly tragic thing happened in the past that you are so utterly vague about that I can't even speculate. I don't know how they feel about it, or about anything, frankly, except for 'dull' and 'drifty'. They're sad because they're directionless and impassionate, apparently, which is sad if you think about it too hard, but ain't the kind of thing that fits into flash fiction. I gather that you wanted them to be sad because of their changing relationship as they grew up (maybe?) but that just ain't there (except where I noted it).

- Also, 'sad things happen to character' is not going to make me feel, unless you can make me empathize with the characters. Which, your characters were so dull and underwritten that I couldn't do it. They didn't seem to want anything! For gently caress's sake! A great way to get at sadness is to have a character not get something they desperately need/deserve because of the implacable & cruel universe, but you gotta have the want/deserve bit before you can give me the grey gloomy mist of the Earth's indifference, right?

- You both tried to hide poo poo from me in the name of being, I don't know, literary? Once again, I've gotta ask: were you scared? I'm looking for the heart of the storm, and I get hints so vague they don't even add up. I read each of these three times, and I keep getting these weird sparks like 'geez, I really feel like he wanted this to matter and mean something to me' - mojo's train metaphor; oxxi's baseball thing - but I'm just not there with you. You don't have to slap me across the face with everything, but neither can I read your minds.

- And Oxxi, get yo verb tenses straightened out. For shame.

tl;dr: You both disappointed me. Nobody wins.

mojo: https://docs.google.com/document/d/16fDZMZDWgF-W5Q7YPHEg2S7ywPw43NU6c0PooVTRB_o/edit?usp=sharing
oxxi: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ffuj41fGRFk7ik19SZIORTcmr2QiNFOHBCLeLQ8zvLQ/edit?usp=sharing

Oxxidation
Jul 22, 2007
Still gonna chalk this up as a victory.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk









Oxxidation posted:

Still gonna chalk this up as a victory.

Ditto, motherfucker.

(Thanks for the crit djinn)

sebmojo fucked around with this message at 20:03 on Sep 16, 2014

Entenzahn
Nov 15, 2012

erm... quack-ward

Martello posted:

good recovery attempt but that'd be a TEN and a three, Pythagoras.

let's leave the math to those other nerd subforums and stick to storytellin
that would be 103 are you high

Martello posted:

Entenzahn, your flash rule: story must prominently feature these two things from the folktale, paraphrasing from Fanky's post:
:mad: Duck cannot get fair trial in Mortadelladome. Duck demands brawl

Your Sledgehammer
May 10, 2010

Don`t fall asleep, you gotta write for THUNDERDOME
In with 2 and 7.

And Martello, I'd be delighted to accept a flash rule if you'd be so kind as to crit my Clint Eastwood story. I intend to quench my thirst with the blood of lesser competitors one of these weeks, and to do that, I must get better.

Fumblemouse
Mar 21, 2013


STANDARD
DEVIANT
Grimey Drawer
In with 1 and 11. That's the eyes of an enlightened snake.

Sitting Here
Dec 31, 2007

Fanky Malloons posted:

Fine. You (and by association, me [and also Seadoof]) will simply have to continue to live with our shameful shame of posting (or not) those crits in an extremely non-timely manner.

Not so fast, Malloons. People DID put a lot of effort into Week 100, and they deserve crits.

I have about nine left, which I will do today, but I thought I'd go ahead and throw up my crit doc now so people have something to chew on.

Additionally, instead of 'doming, I will do detailed crits for anyone who participated in the Thunderdome centennial. Just quote this post and ask for an in-depth crit on your week 100 story if you want me to elaborate. If you're one of the last 9 or 10 stories, hang tight, I will have those done by the end of today.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/19nP-Kwg_E30F2nR3IIwpDyEd5PZ_X8p2zWRjuQzV-98/edit?usp=sharing

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006
In. 2. 1.

Djeser
Mar 22, 2013


it's crow time again

Fanky Malloons posted:

:siren: FOLK :siren:
myth, legend, and folklore World Folklore

folk tales folk tale folk tale. tale folk tale Book O' Lore stories wishy washy set of dice first.

IN

4 and 8

Noah
May 31, 2011

Come at me baby bitch
3 2

Meeple
Dec 28, 2009
My dice said

I choose to interpret this as "2" and "8"

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?

God Over Djinn posted:

In with 1 and 1, snake eyes.
ORIGIN OF THE JA-LUO
National Origin: Kenya

quote:

Apōdtho was the ancestor of all men; he descended to the earth from above, and brought with him two head of cattle, some fowls, and seeds of mtama [sorghum], sem-sem [sesame seeds], and wimbi [millet]. He found the tobacco plant growing on earth; the elephant gave him the sweet potato and beans. He also brought the knowledge of making fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together, and he taught the Ja-Luo to mix cow’s urine with the milk. He reached the earth in the country away to the north of the lake, and died in that country; at his death, he turned into a rock. Apōdtho had supernatural powers and possessed the power to turn into a rock at will.

When he was old, the Ja-Luo conspired to kill him, but for a long time nothing came of it, because they were afraid of him; but one day sickness overcame him; the conspirators sent a girl to see if he was really sick, as they thought it would be a good opportunity to kill him. She took a small horn, used for cupping blood, in her hand, and, while talking to him, she placed the cupping horn on his shadow; to her surprise it drew blood from the shadow. She returned and told her friends that, if they wanted to kill Apōdtho, they must not touch his body, but spear his shadow; they did so, and he died and turned into a rock, which the Ja-Luo afterwards considered to possess special virtues for sharpening spears on.
---

starr posted:

I'm in with 2 and 5.
MITI’ AND MAGPIE MAN
National origin: Siberia (Koryak)

quote:

Big-Raven lived with his family. Oh, Big-Raven said, “I will (go and) fetch some willow-bark.” Oh, Miti’ went to feed the little puppies. Magpie-Man came to eat there. He pecked at Miti”s face (to indicate his love), and her whole nose was covered with scratches.

Oh, that one (Big-Raven) comes home! He said to Miti’, “What has happened to you? Your nose is scratched all over.”

She said, “By hitting with my nose against the sharp ends of the door-shed corner I was scratched thus.” Oh, Big-Raven cut away all the ends of the dog-shed corners. Then again he went for willow-bark. Miti’ went out, perched on the top of the dog-shed, and began to sing, “I am walking along the cross beam!”

Then Magpie-Man came, and said, “Let us enter the sleeping-room! Big-Raven will not come back soon. He will not catch us.”

She took him into (the house). Just as soon as they entered the sleeping-room and began to make love there, then Big-Raven came back, and called out, “Miti’, take this load of willow!” Miti’ said, “Let the I’kla [a magical effigy of a human being] bring it down! I am busy trampling a half-scraped skin with lily feet.”

“Nay,” said Big-Raven, “I want you to take it down.”

Oh, Miti’ took it, and with a violent pull drew it into the house.

Then Big-Raven entered the house and made a smoldering fire. He also stopped up the entrance-hole and the smoke-hole, so that the sleeping-room was full of smoke. Then a Magpie’s voice was heard from the sleeping-room. That Magpie came out. He escaped through a narrow crack.

“(See) what (this) Magpie has done to me!” The Magpie, however, went home. Miti’ was with child. After some time she brought forth two small eggs. (The two children) grew rapidly, and Big-Raven had a great love for them.

Big-Raven’s people were storing their catch of fish. Those two said, “Mamma, we are hungry.”

She said, “Go out and say to daddy, ‘We are hungry’.” They went out, and were given two whole dried salmon. They entered, and nibbled up (the fish).

Then they said again, “We are hungry.” Miti’ said to them, “Go out and ask daddy (for more).”

They went out. “Daddy, we are hungry!”

“No wonder! Two thievish magpies!”

Those two sons began to weep. “Oh, he is reproaching us!”

Miti’ said to them, “Go out and tell him, ‘Our real daddy is herding reindeer (with the wealthy reindeer-breeders)’.” (After that) they entered again, and Miti’ put them into a grass bag, (placing) each in one of the (lower) corners. She went away, and came to Magpie-Man and flung (her bag right in).

Big-Raven said, “I feel lonely. I will go to Miti’.” He went and came there.

(The people said,) “Miti’, come out! Your old man has come to you.”

Miti’ said, “Has he no legs? Let him enter of his own accord!” He entered, and she gave him food. He began to eat, and was choking. Then he ran out of the house.

Miti’ called to him. She said, “Big-Raven!”

“Oi!”

Then he could not help himself, and shouted, “Oi!” The piece that choked him flew out (of his mouth, and fell down) at a great distance. Then Big-Raven went home. That is all.
---

satsui no thankyou posted:

hey i'd like to give this a go. 4 and 7
HOW RABBI JOSHUA WENT TO PARADISE ALIVE
National origin: Ashkenazim (Poland/Ukraine)

quote:

The great Rabbi Joshua was wrapped up all his life in the study of the Torah and knew little about the everyday world. A man doesn’t live forever. His time came and God said, to the Angel of Death, “Go to Reb Joshua, take his holy soul and bring it before my throne but I command you that whatever he ask of you thou it be the biggest and hardest thing you shall give it to him.… Not many such pious men live on the earth.”

The angel went to carry out God’s command and he come to Reb Joshua. He stood before him and said, “Your time has come and you must leave this world for the other world. God himself sent me to you that I should take your soul to Him. But before I take you soul God has commanded me to fulfill one wish of yours. It may be hard to fulfill but I will do it. Because you found favor in God’s eyes. So consider well.… Any desire I will do it even if it is most difficult, because you found favor in God’s eyes. Well, what is your wish?”

“I ask of you,” said Reb Joshua “that you show me my place in Paradise.”

“Your request in very difficult to fulfill,” the angel answered, “but alas I have to fulfill God’s wish. Get ready. You will not be able to enter paradise but we will come near the wall of paradise and you will be able to see your place looking thru a gateway.”

Reb Joshua was afraid to follow him. How can one believe the Angel of Death? Just when I will be contemplating something he will use his knife on my throat and there will be no help for it. Such a fellow isn’t to be trusted. “Come and lose no time” the Angel of Death said, “you have only a few minutes to live.”

“If you want me to go with you,” Reb Joshua said, “give me your sword because I am greatly afraid of you.”

The Angel of Death gave Reb Joshua his sword and led Reb Joshua through valleys and deserts until they came to Paradise. The angel then lifted Reb Joshua to the wall of paradise and Reb Joshua saw all the pious men sitting in happiness and peace. At the sight of this he lost all desire to return to our world. Why should he have to die first in order to enter paradise? He would rather save himself the pains of dying and enter paradise alive. Without much ado he jumped over the fence into paradise. The Angel of Death has no right to enter paradise. So Reb Joshua remained there alive.

The Angel of Death went with a complaint to the Almighty that Reb Joshua deceived him.

God answered, “That isn’t deceiving. To deceive the Angel of Death in permissible. You want to kill him so he has a right to try to get away from you.”
---

Anathema Device posted:

In with 3 and 9.
THE RED CALF
National origin: Scotland

quote:

Once, a long time ago, there was a gentleman had two lassies. The oldest was ugly and ill natured, but the youngest was a bonnie lassie and good; but the ugly one was the favorite with her father and mother. So they ill used the youngest in every way, and they sent her into the woods to herd cattle, and all the food she got was a little porridge and whey.

Well, amongst the cattle was a red calf, and one day it said to the lassie, “Gee [give] that porridge and whey to the doggie, and come wi’ me.”

So the lassie followed the calf through the wood, and they came to a bonnie hoosie [house], where there was a nice dinner ready for them; and after they had feasted on everything nice they went back to the herding.

Every day the calf took the lassie away, and feasted her on dainties; and every day she grew bonnier. This disappointed the father and mother and the ugly sister. They expected that the rough usage she was getting would take away her beauty; and they watched and watched until they saw the calf take the lassie away to the feast. So they resolved to kill the calf; and not only that, but the lassie was to be compelled to kill him with an axe. Her ugly sister was to hold his head, and the lassie who loved him had to give the blow and kill him.

She could do nothing but greet [weep]; but the calf told her not to greet, but to do as he bade her; and his plan was that instead of coming down on his head she was to come down on the lassie’s head who was holding him, and then she was to jump on his back and they would run off. Well, the day came for the calf to be killed, and everything was ready—the ugly lassie holding his head, and the bonnie lassie armed with the axe. So she raised the axe, and came down on the ugly sister’s head; and in the confusion that took place she got on the calf’s back and they ran away.

And they ran and better nor ran till they came to a meadow where grew a great lot of rashes [rushes]; and, as the lassie had not on many clothes, they pu’ed rashes, and made a coatie for her. And they set off again and traveled, and traveled, till they came to the king’s house. They went in, and asked if they wanted a servant. The mistress said she wanted a kitchen lassie, and she would take Rashin-Coatie.

So Rashin-Coatie said she would stop, if they keepit the calf too. They were willing to do that. So the lassie and the calf stoppit in the king’s house, and everybody was well pleased with her; and when Yule came, they said she was to stop at home and make the dinner, while all the rest went to the kirk [church]. After they were away the calf asked if she would like to go. She said she would, but she had no clothes, and she could not leave the dinner. The calf said he would give her clothes, and make the dinner too. He went out, and came back with a grand dress, all silk and satin, and such a nice pair of slippers. The lassie put on the dress, and before she left she said:

Ilka peat gar anither burn,
An’ ilka spit gar anither turn,
An’ ilka pot gar anither play,
Till I come frae the kirk on gude Yule day.


So she went to the kirk, and nobody kent [knew] it was Rashin-Coatie. They wondered who the bonnie lady could be; and, as soon as the young prince saw her, he fell in love with her, and resolved he would find out who she was, before she got home; but Rashin-Coatie left before the rest, so that she might get home in time to take off her dress, and look after the dinner. When the prince saw her leaving, he made for the door to stop her; but she jumped past him, and in the hurry lost one of her shoes. The prince kept the shoe, and Rashin-Coatie got home all right, and the folk said the dinner was very nice.

Now the prince was resolved to find out who the bonnie lady was, and he sent a servant through all the land with the shoe. Every lady was to try it on, and the prince promised to marry the one it would fit. That servant went to a great many houses, but could not find a lady that the shoe would go on, it was so little and neat.

At last he came to a henwife’s house, and her daughter had little feet. At first the shoe would not go on, but she paret [pared] her feet, and clippit [clipped] her toes, until the shoes went on. Now the prince was very angry. He knew it was not the lady that he wanted; but, because he had promised to marry whoever the shoe fitted, he had to keep his promise.

The marriage day came, and, as they were all riding to the kirk, a little bird flew through the air, and it sang:

Clippit feet an’ paret taes is on the saidle set;
But bonnie feet an’ braw feet sits in the kitchen neuk.

“What’s that ye say?” said the prince.

“Oh,” says the henwife, “would ye mind what a feel bird says?”

But the prince said, “Sing that again, bonnie birdie.”

So the bird sings:

Clippit feet an’ paret taes is on the saidle set;
But bonnie feet an’ braw feet sits in the kitchen neuk.

The prince turned his horse and rode home, and went straight to his father’s kitchen, and there sat Rashin-Coatie. He kent her at once, she was so bonnie; and when she tried on the shoe it fitted her, and so the prince married Rashin-Coatie, and they lived happy, and built a house for the red calf, who had been so kind to her.
---

newtestleper posted:

in with 2 and 6
THE BEGINNING
National Origin: Borneo/Malaysia

quote:

At first there was a great stone in the middle of the sea. At that time there was no earth only water. The rock was large and it opened its mouth and out of it came a man and a woman. The man and the woman looked around and there was only water. The woman said to the man, “How can we walk, for there is no land?” They descended from the rock and tried to walk on the surface of the water and found that they could.

They returned to the rock and sat down to think; for a long time they stopped there; then again they walked upon the water and at length they arrived at the house of Bisagit (the spirit of small-pox), for Bisagit had made land though it was very far away. Now the man and his wife were Kenharingan and Munsumundok. They spoke to Bisagit and asked for some of his earth and he gave it to them.

So going home they pounded up the rock and mixed Bisagit’s earth with it and it became land. Then Kenharingan made the Dusun and Munsumundok made the sky. Afterwards Kenharingan and Munsumundok made the sun as it was not good for men to walk about without light. “Then,” said Munsumundok, “there is no light at night, let us make the moon,” and they made the moon and, the seven stars, the blatek and the kukurian [constellations].

Kenharingan and Munsumundok had one son and one daughter. Now Kenharingan’s people wept because there was no food. So Kenharingan and: Munsumundok killed their girl child and cut it up, and from the different portions of its body grew all things good to eat: its head gave rise to the coconut, and you can see the marks of its eyes and mouth on the coconut till this day; from its arm-bones arose sugar cane; its fingers became bananas and its blood [rice] padi. All the animals also arose from pieces of the child.

When Kenharingan had made everything he said, “Who is able to cast off his skin? If anyone can do so, he shall not die.” The snake alone heard and said, “I can.” And for this reason, till the present day, the snake does not die unless killed by man. (The Dusun did not hear or they would also have thrown off their skins and there would have been no death.) Kenharingan washed the Dusun in the river, placing them in a basket; one man, however, fell out of the basket and floating away down the river stopped near the coast. This man gave rise to the Bajau who still live near the sea and are skilful at using boats.

When Kenharingan had washed the Dusun in the river he menghadjied [held a ritual for] them in his house, but one man left the house before Kenharingan had menghadjied and went off into the jungle to search for something and when he came back he could not enter the house again for he had become a monkey. This man is the father of the monkeys.
---

curlingiron posted:

In with 2, 9, and a :toxx:
THE MAN IN THE MOON
National origin: Japan (Ainu)

quote:

My elder sister brought me up. Every day she went out to fetch water. She hit the pail, she struck the scoop. Once she went out and I waited for her in vain. Three nights I waited, and she came not. At last I got anxious. I built an “inau” to my grandmother the Fire, and asked her about my sister, but got no answer. Then, angry, I built an “inau” to the god of the house, and asked him, but he gave no answer. So I went out, full of wrath, to the river’s side, and asked the river-god, but got no news. I went also to the forest and built an “inau,” and asked my grandmother the Red Fir, but she did not know; so I asked the Siberian Silver Fir, but in vain. Full of anger, I left them, and went to my grandmother the Willow-Bush Thicket, and asked her; and she said, “I am a willow-bush thicket, and fond of talking; so listen to what I shall tell thee. Thy sister went up to the moon, and got married to the Man in the Moon.”

I got very angry and marched away, with evil steps, back to the house. As soon as I arrived there, I took an arrow with a black feather, and another one with a white feather, and went out. First I let fly the arrow with the black feather, then the one with the white feather, and, holding the ends of the arrows with my two hands, I rose up into the air among the clouds; and there was my elder sister, who stepped out of her house smiling, and the ends of her eyebrows drooped. She was holding the hand of a little girl. I never had seen such a girl before. From her face, beams of light were darting forth. That light spread out on all sides, and struck my head. Beautiful eyes looked at me. All my bad feelings vanished. My sister said, “Why art thou angry, my boy? Dost thou not see, that, thanks to the Man in the Moon, thou wilt be able to marry this beautiful little girl?”

From that time I was in high spirits, and my anger was gone. I entered the house, and there was my divine brother-in-law sitting on an iron stool, and smiling at me amiably. I was contented and sat down. Never had I seen a man like that before. Near the corner where the “inau” to the god of the house is set, there was a high case which reached to the roof; and at the women’s corner there were likewise cases leaning on beams. In the middle, on an iron stool, sat the divine man, and he was looking at me. He looked kindly at me, as though he might have seen me before.

Then the mistress of the house gave me to eat; and the master said, “I am a god, and I wanted to have thy sister; therefore I took her who was handling the pail and the scoop to my house. There I married her, and we are living very happily. Take my child now, and marry her, though she be miserable, then wilt thou at least have somebody to fetch thy water.”

Since that time I have been related to the Man in the Moon. He married my elder sister, and they had two children—a boy and a girl. We were powerful, and had no children, and grew old. And my elder sister had children and brought them up, and then grew old. This we heard from the birds.

Man, some of these stories are loving weird.

Blade_of_tyshalle
Jul 12, 2009

If you think that, along the way, you're not going to fail... you're blind.

There's no one I've ever met, no matter how successful they are, who hasn't said they had their failures along the way.

gently caress it, give me whatever story 3 and 5 corresponds to

Saint Drogo
Dec 26, 2011

Babby wants in with 3 and 11.

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010
Sure why not. IN.

3, 13.

Morning Bell
Feb 23, 2006

Illegal Hen
In with 3 and 7

Some Guy TT
Aug 30, 2011

Aw. So it looks like not doing any fiction writing at all for the past several months does not somehow turn you into a better writer. Has Mercedes ever lost? I'm wondering if I can gain the distinction of having the most DMs without ever actually losing.

In for this week. Numbers? Eh...make it 1 and 12. I didn't want to take obvious ones but apparently no one's gone for those yet.

angel opportunity
Sep 7, 2004

Total Eclipse of the Heart
In with:

3 and 11

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.




Some Guy TT posted:

Has Mercedes ever lost?

With style.

Benny the Snake
Apr 10, 2012

GUM CHEWING INTENSIFIES
IN with 3-9

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?
Okay, everybody stop choosing 3, that volume is Europe and all the stories are either super long and/or suck dongs TIA

Noah
May 31, 2011

Come at me baby bitch
change me to 4 2

Benny the Snake
Apr 10, 2012

GUM CHEWING INTENSIFIES

Fanky Malloons posted:

Okay, everybody stop choosing 3, that volume is Europe and all the stories are either super long and/or suck dongs TIA
Change me to 5-9

anime was right
Jun 27, 2008

death is certain
keep yr cool

this is the first average thing you've submitted to the thunderdome

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?

Your Sledgehammer posted:

In with 2 and 7.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND
National origin: India
Ooops, all the stories from India are super long, so you get cliff notes + like 25% of the actual story

quote:

The title “Diamond Cut Diamond” of the following tale is roughly equivalent to the English proverb: “It takes a thief to catch a thief.” The tale is similar to “The Youth in the Land of Cheaters” (AT 978) by virtue of the fact that not only the villain of the narrative, Beeka Mull, but also the shop owners and even the victim’s savior Kooshy Ram are rascals. The Punjab area from which the tale was collected lies on the border between Pakistan and India. The name Kooshy Ram suggests an Indian (Hindu) rather than Pakistani (Muslim) setting for the tale:

In a village in Hindustan there once lived a merchant who, although he rose early, worked hard, and rested late, remained very poor; and ill-luck so dogged him that he determined at last to go to some distant country and there to try his fortune. Twelve years passed by; his luck had turned, and now he had gathered great wealth, so that having plenty to keep him in comfort for the rest of his days, he thought once more of his native village, where he desired to spend the remainder of his life among his own people. In order to carry his riches with him in safety over the many weary miles that lay between him and his home, he bought some magnificent jewels, which he locked up in a little box and wore concealed upon his person; and, so as not to draw the attention of the thieves who infested the highways and made their living by robbing travelers, he started off in the poor clothes of a man who has nothing to lose.

Thus prepared, he traveled quickly, and within a few days’ journey from his own village came to a city where he determined to buy better garments and— now that he was no longer afraid of thieves—to look more like the rich man he had become. In his new raiment he approached the city, and near the great gate he found a bazaar where, amongst many shops filled with costly silks, and carpets, and goods of all countries, was one finer than all the rest. There, amidst his goods, spread out to the best advantage, sat the owner smoking a long silver pipe, and thither the merchant bent his steps, and, saluting the owner politely, sat down also and began to make some purchases.

Now, the proprietor of the shop, Beeka Mull by name, was a very shrewd man, and as he and the merchant conversed, he soon felt sure that his customer was richer than he seemed, and was trying to conceal the fact. Certain purchases having been made, he invited the new-corner to refresh himself, and in a short time they were chatting pleasantly together. In the course of the conversation Beeka Mull asked the merchant whither he was traveling, and hearing the name of the village, he observed,

“Ah, you had better be careful on that road—it’s a very bad place for thieves.”

The merchant turned pale at these words. It would be such a bitter thing, he thought, just at the end of his journey to be robbed of all the fortune he had heaped up with such care.
---

Fumblemouse posted:

In with 1 and 11. That's the eyes of an enlightened snake.
MOUNTAIN OF THE BELL
National Origin: Egypt (Bedouin)

quote:

A Bedouin fisherman, going to work one day, met an old man, who saluted him and conducted him into the bowels of the mountain. There, to his surprise, he found a monastery, gardens of date palms bearing fruit, and good water. The monks received him kindly, gave him food, and when they dismissed him made him swear not to disclose the secret of the monastery. The Bedouin went to his village, Tor, on the Gulf of Suez, near by, and related his discovery. The village people went with him to the spot, but found only a sandbank; and they wanted to kill the man who had deceived them. But the sound of the nagous, or wooden gong used by the priests to call the monks to prayer, is still heard issuing from beneath the bank of sand.

Another Arab declared that the nagous is heard three times a day, morning, noon, and evening, at the hours of prayer; he crossed himself when the sound was unusually loud.
---
IN THE BEGINNING
National origin: China

quote:

The people say that before Yang and Yin were separated, P’an Ku, a man, came into existence. He had a chisel and a mallet. He had horns projecting from his forehead and tusks projecting from his jaws. He grew in stature every day he lived—for eighteen thousand years he grew six feet every day in stature. Nothing was in place when P’an Ku came into the universe, but with his mallet and his chisel he ordered all things; he hewed out bases for the mountains, he scooped out basins for the seas, he dug courses for the rivers, and hollowed out the valleys. In this meritorious work P’an Ku was engaged for eighteen thousand years.

He was attended by the Dragon, the Unicorn, the Tortoise, and the Phoenix—the four auspicious creatures. The Dragon is the head of all the beasts because it is the one that is most filled with the principle of Yang: it is bigger than big, smaller than small, higher than high, lower than low; when it breathes its breath changes to a cloud on which it can ride up to Heaven. The Dragon has five colors in its body, and it is the possessor of a pearl which is the essence of the moon and a charm against fire; it can make itself visible and invisible; in the spring it mounts up to the clouds, and in the autumn it remains supine in the waters. The Unicorn is strong of body and exceptionally virtuous of mind, and it combines in itself the principles of Yang and Yin. It eats no living vegetation and it never treads upon green grass. The Tortoise is the most propitious of all created things; it possesses the secrets of life and death, and it can, with its breath, create clouds and palaces of enchantment. The Phoenix is at the head of all birds; its color is the blending of the five colors and its call is the harmony of the five notes; it bathes in the pure water that flows down from the K’un-lun Mountains, and at night it reposes in the Cave of Tan.

But notwithstanding the fact that he was respectfully attended by the auspicious creatures, P’an Ku put the sun and moon in places that were not properly theirs. The sun and the moon went into the sea, and the world was left without luminaries. P’an Ku went out into the deep; he held out his hands to indicate where they were to go, and he repeated a powerful incantation three times. Then the sun and the moon went into the places that were properly theirs and the universe rejoiced at the ensuing harmony.

But the establishment of the universe was not completed until P’an Ku himself had perished; he died after eighteen thousand years of labor with his chisel and mallet; then his breath became the wind and clouds, and his beard became the streaming signs in the sky; his voice became the thunder, his limbs the four quarters of the earth; his head became the mountains, his flesh the soil, and his blood became the rivers of earth; his skin and hair became the herbs and trees, and his teeth, bones, and marrow became metals, rocks, and precious stones.

Even then the universe was not adequately compacted: P’an Ku had built up the world in fifty-one stories, giving thirty-three stories to the heavens and eighteen stories to the hells beneath the earth. But he had left a great cavity in the bottom of the world, and, at inauspicious times, men and women fell down through it. A woman whose name was Nu-Ku found a stone which adequately covered the cavity; rightly positioning it, she covered up the emptiness, and so completed the making of the well-ordered world.
---

Djeser posted:

IN
4 and 8
UNDER THE GREEN OLD OAK TREE
National Origin: African American (Antigua)

quote:

Dis a nice little story. Der woman had two chil’ren. One was a boy. an’ der oder was a girl. De fader a dese chil’ren die. Moder decide to marry again. She marry to anoder man.

Each day dese chi’ren did go to de mountain to get flowers. Dey went on dis day. Girl had a better bucket den what de broder got. Dey cumin’ wid de flowers. On his way home, de boy stop wid de gal. He t’inkin’ some evil plan. Want dis bucket which was his sister. She would not consent to gi’ him dis bucket. He t’ink it best to kill der sister. He kill de sister. He kill dis girl near to a big oak tree. An’ he hide her dere. After he kill her, he go home. Can’t give no account a he sister. Dey all went to search for de girl, but none can find her.

Der broder stay home. Month gone.

Shepherd-boy dat is comin’ down de mountain meet [finds] a big bone like a flute. He pick dis bone under dat same tree. He took up de bone an’ play. Comin’ home wid de flock, he play on de bone. It play a sweet tune:

My broder has killed me in de woods, an’ den he buryth me.
My broder has killed me in de woods, an’ den he buryth me
Under de green of oak tree, an’ den he buryth me.

Dat’s all it could play. It play sweet, you know. Comin’ home, all dat hear dis tune beg de boy for a play on it. He give dem a play.

Now he way down de mountain. Mos’ to where de moder is livin’. He meet de moder. She ask him for a play. He give her a play. As quick as she play, t’ing say—

My dear moder, my dear moder, it my dead bone you play.
My dear moder, my dear moder, it my dead bone you play.

She drop an’ faint, but never die. All de people was lookin’ for de girl. Dis broder meet de boy. He ask him for a play. Take de bone an’ start. T’ing say—

My broder, it is you dat has killed me.
My broder, it is you dat has killed me.

An’ dere he faints an’ dies.

Dat is de end a da green of oak tree.
---
Nope sorry, Volume 3 sucks.
LATA AND SINOTA
National origin: Solomon Islands

quote:

This Lata was he who created this world and the things in it. He was very wise. The heathen pray to him, and offer to him pigs, and pray also to him for every fruit-bearing tree that it may bear fruit.

Now Lata and Sinota had a dispute about a canoe. Sinota went into the bush to chop a canoe, but he could not find a good tree for it, and when he had sought in vain, he took an axe and chopped Lata’s canoe, and in the morning Lata’s canoe lay on the ground and was chopped in pieces.

When Lata saw it he thought, “What has done this?” Then he sat down and sang a song; and he looked again and saw that his canoe was chopped with an axe, and that someone had chopped it, and when he had finished his song, the canoe came together again as if no one had chopped it.

Then Sinota took his axe again, and went to seek Lata’s canoe, that he might destroy it utterly, but when he came to the place it was standing upright again as though no one had chopped it. Then he began to chop it again, and as he was chopping a chip sprang up and fell into his bag, and when he went back to the village the chip still remained in his bag.

In the morning Lata arose and went again to the place, and he saw that the canoe was chopped again, and he sat down and sang a song again, and as he sang the canoe desired to come together again but could not because the chip was not there, but in Sinota’s bag.

And while he sang Sinota heard the chip in his bag jumping about; then he arose quickly and took his bag and axe and ran to Lata, and Lata said to him, “It was you who chopped the canoe.”

He replied, “Yes, it was I; why do you question me thus? It was not your canoe.” And Sinota said, “Yes, it was mine.”

And they two began to quarrel about it, and Lata said to him, “Very well, you say it was yours, speak as I do.” And Sinota tried, but was not able. Then Lata took his axe and chopped another canoe in the bush, and they brought food, a great quantity, to feed the people, that they might draw it down to the sea.

And on the day appointed, the food for the people was ready, and they assembled together in the place where the canoe was, and they said that he had made the canoe heavy, for they fastened two ropes to it, very strong ones, to draw it down to the sea, but they were not able. Then Lata said to them, “It is all one, don’t bother; it shall stay here, and you go back to the village.”

Then Lata sat down and began to sing a song, and the canoe began to move of its own accord down to the village. But Sinota did not do this; he made ready food for the people, and they came and tied his canoe to two great ropes, and they drew his canoe into the village, and the people said he had no malete [supernatural power].

Then they two made ready their canoes, and took them down to the sea, for Lata had deceived Sinota about the tying it together.

Lata showed him the plant which we use for mats and said to him, “You use this,” and Sinota thought Lata spoke the truth. And Lata tied his canoe with coconut fiber, but over it he put the other fiber, so Sinota thought that Lata had tied his canoe with mat fiber; he did not know of the coconut fiber beneath. Then when Lata reached the island, his food was finished in the canoe, all but one chestnut and it brought forth fruit. Then Lata threw out a rope, and a mouse followed the rope and brought a bag, and he drew in the bag, and water sprang out from the bag. So he reached the island.
---

Ironic Twist posted:

In with a 31 and an 8 and a :toxx:
AN EXILE’S REVENGE
National origin: You get the Solomon Islands too, deal with it.

quote:

There was a certain woman who was enceinte [pregnant] and her kinsfolk made a great feast, for her nearest kinsman also said that he would make a great feast, and he came to the big island to Pevo, and he went to the place where she had not yet brought forth the child, and he stayed there for a long while; and this man had married one hundred wives.

And when the child was grown up and a young man, he was very handsome and he lived altogether in the club house. In the night he went to work, but in the daytime he went back again into the club house and dwelt there. And so it was every night he worked in the garden of his kinsman’s wives, but he did not work in the last one’s garden. And when the wind was favorable the kinsman returned and they told him that his kinsman had arrived. And he went down and took a mat and put it on his shoulder and went with it, and when his kinsman saw him, he said softly to himself, “Whence is this great man,” and he began to be jealous of him and hate him, and he questioned the people, “Who is this man?” and they say to him, “This is your kinsman.”

But when he heard this, he was very angry, and he said to his wives, “You go and work,” and he went with them, and began to question them, and he began with the first until he had questioned them all.

And the son began to inquire, “Who is that working in the garden with my mother?”

But they did not tell him, but they said, “It is your kinsman.” And he made as though he would sail to another island, but he pretended only, and they prepared food for his voyage; and when he came near the place he turned round and went northwards, and he did not eat any food at all nor did he drink, and his body weakened, and dizziness came over him and no one relieved him at the steer oar. He only held it until he was near the island, then he tacked and reached Nole.

And he was very weak and lay on the beach and cried bitterly; and as he cried a tree said to him, “Don’t cry,” and he looked up but saw nothing, and so laid down again and cried again, and the tree spoke again, and he looked up but saw no one; but the tree said to him, “It was I who spoke to you, I this tree that you see”; and he went and sat down at its bole [trunk], and it said, “Break off one root,” and he did so. And he perceived a fire burning and he cooked food and ate. Then he slept all night in the track of the stars as they looked down upon him.

And the stars came clown and spoke to the tree, “Do you smell a man?” and it replied, “You smell a man because you go to and fro always, but there is no man here.” Every night they came down to catch fish. One night the tree instructed him, “Today at midnight when they come down you follow them,” and he did so and followed them, and as they caught fish he took the fish, and when they came back they kept seeking for the fish, saying, “Where is the fish?” But he had gone back already to the tree; and he did so every night.

And one night the tree said to the stars, “My son is here, go and fish and take great care of him.”

But they said to it, “You are a fool, this is a man, and you have not told us,” and they took him and went, and when they came back they gave him fish, and when he had eaten he slept. And one night he besought them to fly away with him into the sky; and they took him up into the sky and he dwelt there. And he saw when the wives (of his kinsman) were enceinte; and, when they were near the birth, he cut open their wombs and took out the babes and took them away, and taught them to gather together money for him.

And he lived a long time there, and presently the stars said to him, “Do you wish to return to your country?”

And he replied, “I wish it, but how can it be?” So they made a great raft, and put his property upon it, and let him down to his home; and the people rejoiced greatly. And he sat and waited for his kinsman who had driven him away, and when he saw him coming he shot him, and when he was shot he died.

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?

Noah posted:

change me to 4 2

Sorry, I already changed your number arbitrarily before I saw this.


Benny the Snake posted:

Change me to 5-9

I will also arbitrarily re-assign you so don't even worry about it broheim.

Anomalous Blowout
Feb 13, 2006

rock
ice
storm
abyss



It makes no attempt to sound human. It is atoms and stars.

*
In with 4 and 9.

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?

Meeple posted:

I choose to interpret this as "2" and "8"
MOUSE DEER AND TIGER
National origin: Indonesia

quote:

One day the kantjil (Mouse deer) was resting quietly when he heard a tiger approaching and feared for his life, wherefore, quickly taking a large leaf, he began to fan a pile of dung which happened to lie near. When the tiger came up, and overcome by curiosity asked what he was doing, the mouse-deer said, “This is food belonging to the king. I am guarding it.”

The tiger, being very hungry, at once wished to be allowed to eat the royal food, but the kantjil refused for a long time, advising him not to touch it and saying that it would be wrong to betray his trust; but at last he agreed to let the tiger have his way if he would promise to wait before eating it until he, the kantjil, had gone; for thus the blame might be escaped.

No sooner said than done; so when the kantjil had reached a safe distance, he called back to the tiger, “You may begin now,” whereupon the tiger hungrily seized what he thought was a delicious morsel, only to be cruelly deceived. Furious at the trick played upon him by the little kantjil, he hurried after the fugitive to get his revenge.

His intended victim, had meanwhile found a very venomous snake, which lay coiled up asleep. Sitting by this, he awaited the tiger’s arrival, and when the latter came up raging in pursuit, he told him that he had only himself to blame, since he had been warned not to eat the food. “But,” said the kantjil, “you must keep quiet, for I am guarding the girdle of the king. You must not come near it, because it is full of magic power.” The tiger’s curiosity and desire being, of course, only stimulated by all this, he insisted that he be allowed to try on the precious girdle, to which the kantjil yielded with apparent reluctance, again warning him to be very careful and, as before, saying that the tiger must first let him get safely away, in order that no guilt might attach to him. When the kantjil had run off, the tiger seized the supposed magic girdle, only to be bitten by the snake, which he did not succeed in killing until after a severe struggle.

Thirsting for vengeance, the tiger again took up the pursuit of his clever little adversary, who, meanwhile, had stopped to rest, so that when the tiger caught up with him, he found him sitting near a clump of tall bamboo. The kantjil greeted the tiger warmly and said, without giving the latter time to express his anger, that he had been appointed keeper of the king’s trumpet. The tiger, immediately desiring to try this wonderful instrument, was induced to put his tongue between two of the bamboos, being told that, as soon as the wind blew, they would give fine music. The trickster ran off, and presently a strong gust arose, swayed the bamboos, and thus pinched the tiger’s tongue entirely off.

Again the tiger gave chase, and this time found the kantjil standing beside a great wasp’s nest. As before, the trickster warned the tiger not to disturb him, for he was guarding the king’s drum which gave out a very wonderful tone when struck; but the tiger, of course, was most anxious to have the opportunity of sounding it. With feigned reluctance, the kantjil at last agreed, stipulating, as before, that he be allowed to get out of the way. As soon as he had put a safe distance between himself and the tiger, he gave the signal, and the tiger struck the nest, only to be beset the next instant by a swarm of angry wasps.
---

Blade_of_tyshalle posted:

gently caress it, give me whatever story 3 1 and 5 corresponds to
THE MONKEY’S FIDDLE
National origin: San (Southern Africa)

quote:

Hunger and want forced Monkey one day to forsake his land and to seek elsewhere among strangers for much-needed work. Bulbs, earth beans, scorpions, insects, and such things were completely exhausted in his own land. But fortunately he received, for the time being, shelter with a great uncle of his who lived in another part of the country.

When he had worked for quite a while he wanted to return home, and as recompense his great uncle gave him a fiddle and a bow and arrow and told him that with the bow and arrow he could hit and kill anything he desired, and with the fiddle he could force anything to dance.

The first he met upon his return to his own land was Brer Wolf. This old fellow told him all the news and also that he had since early morning been attempting to stalk a deer, but all in vain.

Then Monkey laid before him all the wonders of the bow and arrow that he carried on his back and assured him if he could but see the deer he would bring it down for him. When Wolf showed him the deer, Monkey was ready and down fell the deer. They made a good meal together, but instead of Wolf being thankful, jealousy overmastered him and he begged for the bow and arrow. When Monkey refused to give it to him, he thereupon began to threaten him with his greater strength, and so when Jackal passed by, Wolf told him that Monkey had stolen his bow and arrow. After Jackal had heard both of them, he declared himself unqualified to settle the case alone, and he proposed that they bring the matter to the court of Lion, Tiger, Leopard, and the other animals. In the
meantime, he declared he would take possession of what had been the cause of their quarrel, so that it would be safe, as he said. But he immediately brought to earth all that was eatable, so there was a long time of slaughter before Monkey and Wolf agreed to have the affair in court.

Monkey’s evidence was weak, and to make it worse, Jackal’s testimony was against him. Jackal thought that in this way it would be easier to obtain the bow and arrow from Wolf for himself.

And so fell the sentence against Monkey. Theft was looked upon as a great wrong; he must hang.

The fiddle was still at his side, and he received as a last favor from the court the right to play a tune on it.

He was a master player of his time, and in addition to this came the wonderful power of his charmed fiddle. Thus, when he struck the first note of “Cockcrow” upon it, the court began at once to show an unusual and spontaneous liveliness, and before he came to the first waltzing turn of the old tune the whole court was dancing like a whirlwind.

Over and over, quicker and quicker, sounded the tune of “Cockcrow” on the charmed fiddle, until some of the dancers, exhausted, fell down, although still keeping their feet in motion. But Monkey, musician as he was, heard and saw nothing of what had happened around him. With his head placed lovingly against the instrument, and his eyes half closed, he played on, keeping time ever with his foot.

Wolf was the first to cry out in pleading tones breathlessly, “Please stop, Cousin Monkey! For love’s sake, please stop!”

But Monkey did not even hear him. Over and over sounded the resistless waltz of “Cockcrow.”

After a while Lion showed signs of fatigue, and when he had gone the round once more with his young lion wife, he growled as he passed Monkey, “My whole kingdom is yours, ape, if you just stop playing.”

“I do not want it,” answered Monkey, “but withdraw the sentence and give me my bow and arrow, and you, Wolf, acknowledge that you stole it from me.”

“I acknowledge, I acknowledge!” cried Wolf, while Lion cried, at the same instant, that he withdrew the sentence.

Monkey gave them just a few more turns of the “Cockcrow,” gathered up his bow and arrow, and seated himself high up in the nearest camel thorn tree.

The court and other animals were so afraid that he might begin again that they hastily disbanded to new parts of the world.
---

Saint Drogo posted:

Babby wants in with 3 4 and 11.
THE GHOST PENITENTE
National origin: Spanish American (New Mexico)

quote:

A certain evening during holy week the Penitentes entered the church in Taos for the purpose of flogging themselves. After flogging themselves in the usual manner, they left the church. As they departed, however, they heard the floggings of a Penitente who seemed to have remained in the church.

The elder brother (hermano mayor) counted his Penitentes, and no one was missing. To the astonishment of the other Penitentes, the one in the church continued his flagellation, and they decided to return. No one dared to re-enter the church, however; and while they disputed in silence and made various conjectures as to what the presence of an unknown Penitente might mean, the floggings became harder and harder.

At last one of the Penitentes volunteered to enter alone; but, as he opened the door, he discovered that the one who was scourging himself mercilessly was high above in the choir, and it was necessary to obtain a lighted candle before venturing to ascend to the choir in the darkness. He procured a lighted candle and attempted to ascend. But, lo! he could not, for every time he reached the top of the stairs, the Penitente whom he plainly saw there, flogging himself, would approach and put out his candle.

After trying for several times, the brave Penitente gave up the attempt, and all decided to leave the unknown and mysterious stranger alone in the church. As they departed, they saw the mysterious Penitente leave the church and turn in an opposite direction. They again consulted one another, and decided to follow him. They did so; and, since the stranger walked slowly, scourging himself continuously and brutally, they were soon at a short distance from him.

The majority of the flagellants followed slowly behind; while the brave one, who had previously attempted to ascend to the choir, advanced to the side of the mysterious stranger and walked slowly by him. He did not cease scourging himself, though his body was visibly becoming very weak, and blood was flowing freely from his mutilated back. Thus the whole procession continued in the silence of the night, the stranger leading the Penitentes through abrupt paths and up a steep and high mountain.

At last, when all were nearly dead with fatigue, the mysterious Penitente suddenly disappeared, leaving his good companion and the other Penitentes in the greatest consternation. The Penitentes later explained that this was doubtless the soul of a dead Penitente who had not done his duty in life, a false Penitente, and God had sent him back to earth to scourge himself properly, before allowing him to enter heaven.
---

SurreptitiousMuffin posted:

Sure why not. IN.
3 4, 13.
WITCH FLIGHTS
National origin: Mexican American (New Mexico)
This one is more of a primer on witches than a story, I guess. You'll figure it out.

quote:

Every paisano in New Mexico can tell you the witches’ strange habits, their marvelous powers, and their baleful deeds. They never injure the dumb animals, but woe to the human being who incurs their displeasure. Few, indeed, are bold enough to brave their wrath. If a witch asks for food, wood, clothing, or anything else, none dare say her nay. Nor dare any one eat what a witch proffers; for, if he does, some animal, alive and gnawing, will form in his stomach.

By day the witches wear their familiar human form; but at night, dressed in strange animal shapes, they fly abroad to hold witch meetings in the mountains, or to wreak their evil wills. In a dark night you may see them flying through the sky like so many balls of fire, and there are comparatively few Mexicans in the territory who have not seen this weird sight!

For these nocturnal sallies the witches wear their own bodies, but take the legs and eyes of a coyote or other animal, leaving their own at home. Juan Perea, a male witch, who died here in San Mateo some months ago, met with a strange misfortune in this wise: He had gone off with the eyes of a cat, and during his absence a dog knocked over the table and ate up Juan’s own eyes; so the unfortunate witch had to wear cat’s eyes all the rest of his life.

“Before they can fly, witches are obliged to cry out, ‘Sin Dios, sin Santa Maria!’ (Without God and without the Holy Virgin) whereupon they mount up into the air without difficulty. If you are on good terms with a witch you may persuade her to carry you on her back from here to New York in a second. She blindfolds you and enjoins strict silence. If you utter a word you find yourself alone in some vast wilderness, and if you cry, ‘God, save me!’ you fall from a fearful height to the ground, but are luckily never killed by the fall. There are several courageous people in the territory who have made journeys thus upon the backs of witches.

Blade_of_tyshalle
Jul 12, 2009

If you think that, along the way, you're not going to fail... you're blind.

There's no one I've ever met, no matter how successful they are, who hasn't said they had their failures along the way.

If you're just going to arbitrarily assign stories no matter what we pick, then you can seriously go gently caress yourself.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk









Blade_of_tyshalle posted:

If you're just going to arbitrarily assign stories no matter what we pick, then you can seriously go gently caress yourself.

what was that mr dirty harry isn't good enough for me

Fanky Malloons
Aug 21, 2010

Is your social worker inside that horse?

Blade_of_tyshalle posted:

If you're just going to arbitrarily assign stories no matter what we pick, then you can seriously go gently caress yourself.

Wow rude. How about you sit down and shut the gently caress up until you actually rack up a win?

MOTHER HOLLE
National origin: Germany

quote:

Once upon a time there was a widow who had two daughters; one of them was pretty and clever, and the other ugly and lazy. But as the ugly one was her own daughter, she liked her far the best of the two, and the pretty one had to do all the work of the house, and was in fact the regular maid of all work. Every day she had to sit by a well on the high road, and spin till her fingers were so sore that they often bled. One day some drops of blood fell on her spindle, so she dipped it into the well meaning to wash it, but, as luck would have it, it dropped from her hand and fell right in. She ran weeping to her stepmother, and told her what had happened, but she scolded her harshly, and was so merciless in her anger that she said, “Well, since you’ve dropped the spindle down, you must just go after it yourself, and don’t let me see your face again until you bring it with you.”

Then the poor girl returned to the well, and not knowing what she was about, in the despair and misery of her heart she sprang into the well and sank to the bottom. For a time she lost all consciousness, and when she came to herself again she was lying in a lovely meadow, with the sun shining brightly overhead, and a thousand flowers blooming at her feet. She rose up and wandered through this enchanted place, till she came to a baker’s oven full of bread, and the bread called out to her as she passed, “Oh! take me out, take me out, or I shall be burnt to a cinder. I am quite done enough.”

So she stepped up quickly to the oven and took out all the loaves one after the other.

Then she went on a little farther and came to a tree laden with beautiful rosy-cheeked apples, and as she passed by it called out, “Oh I shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe.”

She did as she was asked, and shook the tree till the apples fell like rain and none were left hanging. When she had gathered them all up into a heap she went on her way again, and came at length to a little house, at the door of which sat an old woman.

The old dame had such large teeth that the girl felt frightened and wanted to run away, but the old woman called after her, “What are you afraid of, dear child? Stay with me and be my little maid, and if you do your work well I will reward you handsomely; but you must be very careful how you make my bed— you must shake it well till the feathers fly; then people in the world below say it snows, for I am Mother Holle.”

She spoke so kindly that the girl took heart and agreed readily to enter her service. She did her best to please the old woman, and shook her bed with such a will that the feathers flew about like snow-flakes; so she led a very easy life, was never scolded, and lived on the fat of the land. But after she had been some time with Mother Holle she grew sad and depressed, and at first she hardly knew herself what was the matter. At last she discovered that she was homesick, so she went to Mother Holle and said, “I know I am a thousand times better off here than I ever was in my life before, but notwithstanding, I have a great longing to go home, in spite of all your kindness to me. I can remain with you no longer, but must return to my own people.”

“Your desire to go home pleases me,” said Mother Holle, “and because you have served me so faithfully, I will show you the way back into the world myself.”

So she took her by the hand and led her to an open door, and as the girl passed through it there fell a heavy shower of gold all over her, till she was covered with it from top to toe.

“That’s a reward for being such a good little maid,” said Mother Holle, and she gave her the spindle too that had fallen into the well.

Then she shut the door, and the girl found herself back in the world again, not far from her own house; and when she came to the courtyard the old hen, who sat on the top of the wall, called out, “Click, clock, clack, Our golden maid’s come back.”

Then she went in to her stepmother, and as she had returned covered with gold she was welcomed home.

She proceeded to tell all that had happened to her, and when the mother heard how she had come by her riches, she was most anxious to secure the same luck for her own idle, ugly daughter; so she told her to sit at the well and spin. In order to make her spindle bloody, she stuck her hand into a hedge of thorns and pricked her finger. Then she threw the spindle into the well, and jumped in herself after it. Like her sister she came to the beautiful meadow, and followed the same path. When she reached the baker’s oven the bread called out as before, “Oh! take me out, take me out, or I shall be burnt to a cinder. I am quite done enough.”

But the good-for-nothing girl answered, “A pretty joke, indeed; just as if I should dirty my hands for you!”

And on she went. Soon she came to the apple tree, which cried, “Oh! Shake me, shake me, my apples are all quite ripe.”

“I’ll see myself farther,” she replied, “one of them might fall on my head.”

And so she pursued her way. When she came to Mother Holle’s house she wasn’t the least afraid, for she had been warned about her big teeth, and she readily agreed to become her maid.

The first day she worked very hard, and did all her mistress told her, for she thought of the gold she would give her; but on the second day she began to be lazy, and on the third she wouldn’t even get up in the morning. She didn’t make Mother Holle’s bed as she ought to have done, and never shook it enough to make the feathers fly. So her mistress soon grew weary of her, and dismissed her, much to the lazy creature’s delight.

“For now,” she thought, “the shower of golden rain will come.”

Mother Holle led her to the same door as she had done her sister, but when she passed through it, instead of the gold rain a kettle full of pitch came showering over her.

“That’s a reward for your service,” said Mother Holle, and she closed the door behind her.

So the lazy girl came home all covered with pitch, and when the old hen on the top of the wall saw her, it called out, “Click, clock, clack, Our dirty slut’s come back.”

But the pitch remained sticking to her, and never as long as she lived could it be got off.

Your flash rule is that you a)have to actually write a story, and b)it has to be loving awesome.

Also, if someone wants to take your rejected story that wasn't good enough for you and use that as their inspiration, and their story is better than yours, then you get a DM. You're welcome.

Fanky Malloons fucked around with this message at 04:29 on Sep 17, 2014

The Saddest Rhino
Apr 29, 2009

Put it all together.
Solve the world.
One conversation at a time.



Fanky Malloons posted:

Your flash rule is that you a)have to actually write a story, and b)it has to be loving awesome.

p unwise to set unattainable flash rules if you ask me.

Morning Bell
Feb 23, 2006

Illegal Hen
Please reinterpret my '3 and 7' as 'anything and anything else'

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010

Blade_of_tyshalle posted:

If you're just going to arbitrarily assign stories no matter what we pick, then you can seriously go gently caress yourself.
your flash rule is to not write erotic fanfiction then get your friends to spam it all over the forums.



It's really tough I know.

Also jesus christ quit bitching.

SurreptitiousMuffin
Mar 21, 2010
Blade of Tyshalle, Blade of Tyshalle, Blade of Tyshalle, I know you're developing this picture of my in your head. I'm an old man, bent double, shaking his fist at the kids playing on his lawn. "He doesn't get it!" you say, "it's comedy!"

except you forgot one key thing: comedy is funny. What you wrote (and your folks incessantly spammed in every drat corner of the boards like they had pubic lice and wanted to make the world itch) was a bunch of friends sitting around smoking weed and saying "man they call them fingers but I've never seen them fing", then everybody laughs at it's pretty great. That's cool and you should have your good time. What you shouldn't do is write it down and stick a price tag on it, then run around throwing it in people's faces while dreaming of floating dollar signs.

Your poo poo is terrible and derivative and not that funny. Nobody understands or gives a poo poo about your injokes and certainly nobody wants to pay for them.

Why am I hanging onto a thing that's a couple of years old? Because I cannot remember a single goddam thing else you've written in all the years I've been here. Stop crying about how real writing is haaaaaaaaard and put some words to paper. You want to fling poo poo around in here? Earn it. Prove me loving wrong. If you ever win, you can drag me back to this post and rub my nose in it. Until then, shut up and write.

EDIT: let me play good cop here to my bad cop - if you've got something you've written recently that you want me to look at, I'll give it a full going over and try to be as genuinely helpful as I can. What I've seen of your writing tells me you're actually not poo poo at this at this at all, you just don't realise that your 'funny' jokes are either tepid and unoriginal, or completely inexplicable to anybody who isn't you. The prose itself is solid, and there's genuine laughs in there when you manage to pull your head out of your rear end.

SurreptitiousMuffin fucked around with this message at 06:50 on Sep 17, 2014

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JuniperCake
Jan 26, 2013
In with 2 10. If that's taken then give me whatever.

::toxx:: ::toxx:: ::toxx::

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