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Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


Liar - 24 words

She was rent asunder slowly, methodically by the only person she'd ever called home. He felt nothing but the blazing steel in his spine.

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Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


I've been lurking for a while and I think I finally want in.

Also because I'm a dumb, can someone explain :toxx:? I've seen it mentioned a few times and it's apparently bad but that's all I know.

Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


The Fantastic Collection (Words: 937 - Subject: 708 Galleries, Museums, Private Collections)

James' eyes would glisten with pride as he launched into his routine speech.

"Now I hope you folks are ready to be amazed because what I have under these sheets behind me will astound and astonish even the most scrupulous skeptic."

He would make a grandiose gesture towards the covered glass cases he had so carefully constructed years earlier.

"I have collected these items through years and years of painstaking pioneering, terrific trailblazing, and extraordinary exploration! And all for you! So that you may see what wonders of the world lay hidden right beneath your very nose."

His voice would echo across the high mountain brush and his wry build would dance across the stage, framed by the mountain range far in the distance.

James had a smile that could light up the desert and he was no stranger to anyone for long. He had made his living unveiling his finds for decades, and every time he began his speech he had the same enthusiasm and vibrancy as his very first performance. Now things are a little different though, the crowds are smaller and the collection is fewer, but the glisten in his eye hasn't changed at all.

A single family had bothered to stay for the entire speech today, and all but their youngest seemed bored. The boy watched avidly as James pulled the sheet off his first display. James was starting to show his age in his movements but his voice still filled the air and inspired grandeur.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is George Washington's famous friendly fiddle. He used this instrument not only to entertain and inspire his troops but also to mesmerize and befriend wild bears! In fact it's even rumored that we only won the revolutionary war because the British were terrified by the sight of George riding into battle atop a massive grizzly!"

As the sheet fell to the stage the little boy's jaw dropped, resting in the glass case just a few feet from him was George Washington's fiddle! The fiddle's strings were corroded a bit and bow had no string at all. It may as well have been trash but the way James spoke about it made it seem like a priceless artifact. He wrestled his brothers phone out of his hands despite a cry of protest and quickly started recording the show. His brother started to take it back when James caught his attention, unveiling the second case.

"Here we have a magical modern marvel, a device that, when worn, allows the wearer to instantaneously know how any given machine works! Unfortunately even today nobody has found a way to activate this device and its inner workings remain a mystery." He said this all through a smile so warm the boys couldn't help but smile too. "What a wondrous device!" they thought.

James moved to the next case and rapped against it lightly. His eyes met with the boys', as bright as ever.

"Now this next piece... Most people refuse to believe exists even when it's right in front of their faces! Under here..." he ripped the sheet away from the case with a flash and revealed what looked like an old dirty tooth.

"This is a tooth from the fabled Bigfoot, found just a few feet from where you stand now! This amazing archaeological achievement is one for the archives! Most everyone doesn't even think he's real, but right here is the genuine article."

James swept to the last case, taking care not to trip over any of the sheets on the stage. He quietly rattled something under the last sheet before carefully extracting something from the case.

"And finally I have what is probably the most awesome piece in my current collection, a true treat. This metal whisk will, when waffled, whisper wonderful notes to a old song I'm sure you've all heard before!"

James' motions were deft and surprisingly agile, he swept the whisk through the air in intricate patterns and amazingly enough the first few bars of Claire de Lune could be heard humming from the tines. The boys looked on in wonder and now even their parents were paying attention. The youngest boy finished the recording and quickly posted it to his favorite video sharing website. James replaced the whisk in its case and gleefully invited the family on stage to take a closer look at the exhibits. After a few dozen minutes of ogling and laughter James bid the family farewell and covered his displays back up, moving them back inside a little shack to the side of the stage to keep them out of the weather. He sat down in an old rocking chair and began to wonder if anybody might show up for tomorrow's show.

Nobody showed up the next day, or the day after, or even the day after that, but the next day there were 5 families. The day after that there were 10, and after that were too many for him to keep track of! James was filled with satisfaction, knowing that he could continue to do what he loved and that people were still interested in his many odd and fascinating artifacts. He even acquired a few new pieces in the following days. In his final years James kept in touch with the little boy who had revived his show and willed that his collection go to him. The boy gladly accepted and, to pay respect to a man who had brought joy to so many, moved the collection to a permanent indoor museum where the artifacts continue to delight and amaze and grow in popularity.

Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


I'm going to try and submit something actually worthwhile this week, jumping in with Lemony Snicket.

Skwid fucked around with this message at 16:15 on Sep 2, 2014

Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


Here's hoping that my entry for this week at least surpasses last week's rushed attempt.

----

The Veracious View - 716 words - Lemony Snicket

Milo is a fantastic astronaut, and he is about to face a very, very difficult decision. Milo's spacecraft is dying, and he will not make it home.

If you enjoy stories in which the main character has a delightful time in space and returns home safely then I urge you to stop reading this story and to instead pick up a copy of "Mr. Wigglystuff Goes to Space" in which a rather dashing Mr. Wigglystuff accidentally goes to space and befriends a pleasant race of space rhinosceri who help him safely home. It is a wonderful tale and has a very happy ending, much unlike our current story.

Milo looks glumly at his power gauge; the needle is dangling over the red. A low hum begins to falter in the background as he shuts down another subsystem. He sighs and taps his communicator again.

"Command, I don't have much longer up here, I'm going to have to shut down comms next. Do you have a solution for me?"

Command hasn't responded for an hour, and the only sound he hears in reply is a gurgle of static, which probably means something like "Sorry Milo, but we don't see any way to bring you back safely. Good luck!"

A terrible error had led to one of the batteries being wired improperly and it is gradually discharging all of the ship's power, something nobody noticed until Milo was halfway to the Moon.

He turns his gaze to the ship's view port. The Moon creeps into view, gazing back with what seems to be a look of triumph, a large toothy grin cracking across the dusty surface. Milo's own face contorts with contempt as he reaches over and shuts down the communications subsystem. A blip of sound rings out and for a moment Milo is sure that he had heard a voice. The power gauge is in the red now. Milo chokes back a surge of panic rising from his stomach. If he turns the comms back on he might hear a solution from command... he might go home, but in doing so he will drain the last of the power. When the power goes, so does the heat, and when the heat goes, so does Milo.

His hand trembles through his suit, finger over the comms switch. Milo spares a moment to watch the moon slink out of view and then, taking a deep breath, he flips it. The static roars back into his ear for a brief moment before fading into words, "Milo, you never picked a name for our son." Marilyn's voice is loud and bright and bitter. "Don't you dare leave me Milo, you have so much left to do. I need you, your son needs you." The static cuts to silence as the ship darkens.

I feel that now would be a good time to switch stories if you've suffered the misfortune of reading this far. Mr. Wigglystuff would absolutely adore a new reader and I can assure you that the ending of his story is much more pleasant.

The needle on the gauge is as dead as Milo. The Earth claws its way into the viewport and Milo reminisces for a moment, writing something down on his mission report before stowing it away safely. He looks to the viewport and frowns as the Earth slides out of view. Milo carefully unlatches his helmet and lets it float freely beside him. Taking firm grip of the ship's door, he wrenches the release lever and lets the door rip itself from his hand as the Earth blooms into view one last time.

"There it is," he thinks to himself. "There's home, so close I could just reach out and touch it."

It takes almost an entire day to recover the craft and by the second they find the mission report. Surprisingly it was not full of notes on the mission nor the standard logged information but instead with this:

To my beloved Marilyn:

I regret to inform you that I will not be coming home from this mission. I'm sorry that I never helped you pick a name for our child. I know it's late, but I like Isaac. Please don't let my absence scare our child away from his dreams, whatever they may be.

Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


I'm in, and I'd like a phobia chosen for me please.

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Skwid
Aug 20, 2011

I got tired of being a loser so I spent money to not be a loser anymore.


Bit belated, but thanks for the in-depth crit Grizzled Patriarch!

Sorry Entenzahn and the other judges, I don't have any excuses. I'll be sure to take a :toxx: on my next entry.

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