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Ironic Twist posted:Thunderdome Week CXCVI: Molten Copper vs. Thunderdome I'm in Edit: poo poo, I meant to claim copper vs salt. Hopefully not too late. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kpGDUQ-EZ8 Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 19:08 on May 8, 2016 |
# ¿ May 7, 2016 04:08 |
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# ¿ Apr 25, 2024 09:02 |
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archived on the site
Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 18:00 on Jun 7, 2016 |
# ¿ May 8, 2016 22:48 |
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I'll take my shame manfully! Sadly, it's very obvious to me now that there were many better ways to execute what I wanted. I'll be back next week with something more appropriate!
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# ¿ May 11, 2016 00:42 |
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in, pick for me
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# ¿ May 11, 2016 01:05 |
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archived on the site
Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 18:01 on Jun 7, 2016 |
# ¿ May 15, 2016 17:24 |
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Thanks for the crit and super fun prompt! But my prose will remain purple foreva!!
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# ¿ May 17, 2016 00:13 |
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In: One is a big-mouthed prize pig who's had it up to HERE with his owner. The other is a repentant wolf, consumed with his newfound literacy.
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# ¿ May 17, 2016 02:37 |
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Tyrannosaurus posted:Hmm okay I guess I could read this but I'm gonna imagine it more Animal Farm than Mother Goose because I'm not sure fables are super buddy stuff but I dunno I'm open to being impressed +201 This ain't no mother goose
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# ¿ May 17, 2016 15:30 |
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archived on the site
Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 18:02 on Jun 7, 2016 |
# ¿ May 22, 2016 21:33 |
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Jitzu_the_Monk posted:Free Crits, Week 198 Buddy Week. Part I: Crits 1-8. Thanks for the crits!
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# ¿ May 24, 2016 16:18 |
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archived on the site
Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 18:02 on Jun 7, 2016 |
# ¿ May 30, 2016 01:57 |
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Grizzled Patriarch posted:Week 198 Crits, Part 1 of 2 Thank you for the crit!
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# ¿ May 30, 2016 02:04 |
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In
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# ¿ May 31, 2016 03:18 |
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Thanks!
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# ¿ May 31, 2016 17:48 |
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choose the wednesday senses for me please!
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# ¿ Jun 2, 2016 14:00 |
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Yo gimme a rule any rule, I have the wednesday brawl senses rule (against ???????) already but I'm feeling restless
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# ¿ Jun 3, 2016 05:00 |
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edit:
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# ¿ Jun 3, 2016 05:30 |
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Sitting Here posted:For fairness' sake, you can give newt a flashrule too NEWTESTLEPER: Your editor has called; times are tough and they've taken on brand endorsements to get by. Your entry must contain a prominent product placement for Subway that extols the virtues of Eating Fresh (tm) in a manner that is earnest, sincere, genuine, etc. and not snide at all.
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# ¿ Jun 3, 2016 15:05 |
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Wednesday: Man agonizes over potatoes Flashrules: newtestleper posted:Your story must feature a real-life, contemporary celebrity as a main character. Sitting Here posted:WEDNESDAY GOONS HERE IS YOUR FLASHRULE crabrock posted:+25 words this week to anybody who doesn't post in this thread again until their story is submitted. (signups exempt) Result: The Curious Matter of the Nattily-Dressed Man (1023 words) During my long partnership with my sister Khloe, amongst our more intriguing adventures was our investigation of the nattily-dressed man, a matter that was revealed to the public this week. Whilst I typically defer to our television producers to recount our adventures, I could not in good conscience remain silent over their portrayal of these events. For they focused on lurid details, providing little instruction on the virtues of deductive reasoning. As perceptive viewers know, our adventures are not far-fetched series of unlikely occurrences, but rather the results of principled deduction—even when premised on something as unexpected as potatoes! Let us now journey back to that fateful summer day. # Khloe and I had recently defeated the machinations of a sinister Parisian (an event so grotesque the world remains unready for public disclosure) and planned to recover at our estate in Bakersfield, a hamlet north of Los Angeles. Early during our journey, we broke for lunch in the village of T—n at a ‘fast food’ establishment named I—t. (We suspect our viewers are intimately familiar with its yellow arrow logo and famed ‘secret menu’.) The village, despite its inhabitants’ coarse peasant stock, had prospered from being located in a mountain gap through which a highway passed. The astonishing heat that day had driven the villagers to take refuge in the local shopping mall, leaving the streets deserted. As we approached the entrance of I—t, a nattily-dressed man emerged, holding a white paper bag. He shuffled slowly towards the unseen rear parking lot, where his vehicle presumably rested. ‘His buttons reveal foreign birth,’ I remarked to Khloe. ‘His creases suggest nervousness.’ I struggled to concentrate in the heat. ‘Intriguing,’ replied Khloe. ‘Now let us eat.’ The restaurant was barren but for a lone attendant who also served as the cook. So as to be seen by the public, we elected to take our meal ‘to go’ and drove to the mall. I partook in crisp french fries, hard and ridged to the touch with a texture resembling cracklings. Now refreshed, we took a constitutional through the mall, mingling with local fans. A few hours passed before we returned to our automobile, whereupon we discovered a local constable waiting. ‘Are you the famed sisters?’ cried the constable, in obvious distress. ‘I recognized the sigil upon your vehicle.’ ‘We are, good constable,’ I assured him. He beamed. ‘What fortune! We require assistance.’ He led us back to I—t and then to the rear parking lot. Spilling from the open door of an automobile was the body of the nattily-dressed man from earlier, his expression twisted into a horrifying grimace. He was unquestionably deceased. The restaurant manager watched nervously from nearby. ‘This man was Gaspar Lemieux,’ said the constable, holding up a passport. ‘The famed Belgian food critic?’ cried Khloe. ‘He suffers from crippling introversion.’ ‘We contacted his secretary,’ replied the constable. ‘He’d recently improved somewhat and was touring this region.’ ‘Lips inflamed,’ I said, ‘and throat still swollen. Clearly an allergic reaction. He passed agonizingly.’ ‘His severe peanut allergy is well known,’ offered Khloe. ‘A terrible accident!’ exclaimed the constable. ‘Surely a food critic would be mindful of allergies,’ I said, frowning. The bag Mssr Lemieux had held lay near his foot. I unrolled it and found only a wrapped hamburger. ‘His meal remains untouched,’ I murmured, ‘as well as nutless.’ I felt the bag’s interior and his hands. Something began to glimmer in my mind. ‘This is a twenty tweet problem,’ I said, removing my mobile from my purse. The weather was cooling and my thinking sharpened. I thought of the french fries from earlier and their crispness; of how salt prickled my fingers and hot grease dribbled down my palms. The sky was dark by the time I looked up. ‘Murder,’ I whispered. # We gathered indoors. ‘A man succumbs to a food allergy,’ I began. ‘But without eating. How?’ ‘Sprayed with peanut crumbs,’ offered Khloe. ‘There exist myriad outlandish possibilities,’ I replied. ‘Let us apply the deductive principle of simplicity—we presume he ate peanuts.’ Khloe nodded. ‘From where?’ asked the constable. ‘The effects of various cooking oils on vegetables is an interest of mine,’ I continued. ‘I’ve authored a website on the subject.’ I began pacing. ‘As we know, I—t is famed not only for freshness, but also its unusual french fries. They are soft, distinctly limp in feel, chewy— unique properties imparted by being fried in cottonseed oil.’ ‘Yes,’ agreed the manager. ‘They’re quite controversial.’ ‘But the french fries I purchased today were hard, crispy, ridged; they felt like cracklings.’ The manager’s eyes widened. ‘The inimitable marks of peanut oil, sinisterly substituted by someone.’ I frowned. ‘Being foreign—and possibly affected by heat and hunger, as my own faculties were impaired by the same—poor Mssr Lemieux remained unsuspecting.’ ‘His bag contained no french fries,’ the constable protested. ‘Precisely why this is murder, not an accident,’ I replied. ‘The culprit surmised that Mssr Lemieux, being painfully introverted, would drive elsewhere to eat alone. But as is common practice, he sampled a french fry in his vehicle before departing. His early death surprised the murderer, who subsequently removed the evidence. Examine the receipts; I’ve no doubt you’ll find Mssr Lemieux purchased french fries.’ I sighed. ‘The lone attendant from earlier. We must have barely missed him.’ ‘He’s a new hire,’ cried the manager, ‘and ended his shift prematurely today. That’s when I came and discovered the body.’ ‘What an unlikely plot,’ said the constable grimly. ‘Let us seek this murderer.’ What occurred afterwards is well known, having been depicted in gruesome detail by our producers—how the attendant was unmasked as the Belgian french fry restaurateur Mario Guzman, who had been slighted by Mssr Lemieux; the subsequent pursuit through the mall; and his painful last stand, nude and covered with peanut oil, in a room full of potatoes. Whilst I appreciate the titillating spectacle of these later events, they were simply the natural consequences of what began with the potatoes. With that, it suffices to state the virtues of deductive reasoning, applied rigorously, have been demonstrated once more.
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# ¿ Jun 6, 2016 05:46 |
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flerp posted:lovely flash rules: you have to write about potatoes, specifically Purple Peruvian potatoes. Additionally, your story must be set somewhere in South America.; No commas; 'zaftig'(twice) I don't find line crits terribly useful even on short things so: Likes in order of importance: - actually tries for something interesting and imo succeeds; also very tight and focused; seems like you had a clear idea of scope and type of story you wanted; feels almost roald dahl-esque in its carefully structured whimsy - for me, does the difficult job of hitting the right level of sweetness - last line is excellent - clearly defined characters; characterized in clever, efficient little ways; interaction feels right - lots of dialogue but in a way that works - complete story arc - hits prompt in non-throwaway manner Dislikes: - narrates like you're reading your diary aloud to me - something incomplete or one dimensional or unsatisfyingly tautological about elizabeth's goodness-with-colors and god's not-goodness; the colors are good because she good with them; god's are bad because he isn't; elizabeth wins; not so much desiring the "why" be filled in (since it's not really that important to this story -- to me the character interactions are) but the "is what it is" is a little flat or disappointing in not conveying something more; i had actually thought somewhere in the back of my mind that elizabeth was god's aesthetic sense incarnate and distilled (especially with the god's not perfect ending line) but reread and realized she wasn't; i should say on rereading the title i think i know where you went with it - prose is a little flat for a story involving beauty and colors - i hate the name elizabeth - anything ive forgotten this and the cat story were probably my favorites this week! Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 21:11 on Jun 6, 2016 |
# ¿ Jun 6, 2016 20:52 |
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In and flip me a pic please
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# ¿ Jun 7, 2016 17:38 |
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Tyrannosaurus posted:Week 199: Buddyweek Buddycrits Thanks and yeah, pretty much!
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# ¿ Jun 7, 2016 17:59 |
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dmboogie posted:WEEK 199 CRITS hello, thanks!
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# ¿ Jun 8, 2016 04:55 |
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Ziji posted:Thanks for the crit, I'll make sure to ref this post next time I sit down to write! for what it's worth (won't do a line-by-line like the others but having read through flerp's line-by-line): I found the prose from your story quite interesting -- I think you purposively took on the style of something like catch-22 or pynchon or neal stephenson? (the way you phrased things felt very familiar but I haven't put my finger on it. also little things like the mini-tangents and flashforwards which I enjoyed.) it also seems to have that slightly crisp/manic surrealism or absurdity and the half-joking/half-not-joking feel (and resultant ambiguity/duality) from that sort of stuff. anyways hopefully I'm not going out on too much of a limb. but if that's right, I think that was a tricky place to be in although at the same time a really interesting and challenging thing to tackle (especially because it's either going to click or not). I think ultimately for me it didn't quite click at the edges, but I thought there was good stuff like the Soldid/Noriega line and the closing bit! Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 11:38 on Jun 9, 2016 |
# ¿ Jun 9, 2016 11:25 |
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hell I'm glad at least sebmojo enjoyed it after that drat celebrity flashrule torpedoed me -- I promise I meant more than just a gag about kardashians-being-dumb-but-what-if-they-weren't! Mr Gentleman fucked around with this message at 15:45 on Jun 9, 2016 |
# ¿ Jun 9, 2016 11:35 |
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Subways eat fresh
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# ¿ Jun 10, 2016 14:21 |
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# ¿ Apr 25, 2024 09:02 |
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Hello, in
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# ¿ Jun 21, 2016 17:17 |