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Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



You know I gotta have me some LEGO

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Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



BTW here were some additional judge thoughts I had written down from week whatever it was that I helped judge. Probably some repeat comments in there because maybe there were things I hadn't previously mentioned I dunno.

CRITS AND THOUGHTS

The Jester’s Sickness
What the hell is that opening paragraph
Format annoying
Tense feels awkward at the start
never-mind as hyphenated word seems dumb

Not great

Ride of the White Knight
Protag seems like an idiot, benefit of doubt says assume that’s intentional for now…
Oh good this is a story about ‘nice guys’ I hate you
LOL 2 bros punch each other and then the strong independent woman does it for herself this story sucks

Tribal Wisdom
Way too much exposition dump
Almost nothing happens it’s just ‘all this is the stuff that happened beforehand and now to the story of me continuing to be dumb’

Less terrible than the previous

Dangling
That was just a big wet fart with seriously annoying tense shifts

But I Smiled
Maybe this story is benefitting from the ones before it sucking but so far it is my favourite.

The Entertainment
Kind of a one joke story but competently told.

Turning Lock
Not bad but feels like shenanigans rather than the actual plot progression part of a story

A Change of Mind
Samuel Slopbucket eh, well you get points for the name
You get points for this being a genuinely fun story as well. I liked it.

In some mythologies, the whole world is on the back of a turtle which is pretty cool
THANKS FOR THE TITLE FIONA APPLE
OK I liked this one, there were some annoying errors and not much happened, but I found the protagonist and his turtle buddy oddly endearing

One-Sided Conversation
Reads like world building or back story. I don’t care about the protag

We’ve All Been There
Some of the word usage doesn’t really… I dunno, just feels wrong
Bit of a nothing ending

Empty
Whoa, second person present tense, bold move. Couple minor errors and the plot wasn’t really clear – it felt like two plots being told across each other and we didn’t really get all of either of them – but it was p. interesting.

Mean Things
One of my fellow judges pointed out that this one has a similar basic plot to White Knight; I think the main difference is this one is a little less heavy handed and the characters are more sympathetic. It’s still not great but not as bad as the other one so gj I guess?

Night on the Front
Pretty grim. Not a bad little story.

A Murder.
This is v. bad and my current pick for loser.

Silver Nitride is a Hell of a Thing
Anticlimactic and dumb.

Weakness
What the hell is this nothing happens in this dumb story.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.





Gonna Catch a Big One 1177 words

“What do bears eat, anyway?”

“Fish, I think,” said Tom. Tom was the oldest and therefore the leader of the expedition. “I saw that in a movie the other day.”

“Hmmm,” said Susan. Susan was the rest of the expedition, and also Tom’s best friend. “Would tuna work, do you think? I think we have that in the fridge.”

“Yeah probably,” said Tom.

“Pooh Bear eats honey,” said Susan.

Tom nodded, although Susan wouldn’t have seen that over the phone. “Tuna and honey? That makes sense.”

“I’ll get my mum to make them into sandwiches,” said Susan.

“OK,” said Tom. “I’ll go get Kyle and meet you at your place.” Kyle was Tom’s dog, and also his best friend.

~

“Mum,” said Tom on the way out the door, “I’m taking Kyle to go bear hunting with Susan.”

Mum stopped him before he got out the door and made sure he put on a jacket first, because it was cold out there and he would catch a cold, and was also making her cold just looking at him. He did finally get out the door, though, after also taking an umbrella ‘just in case’, and walked with Kyle to Susan’s house and rang her doorbell.

Her mum answered the doorbell. “Hello Mrs George,” he said. “Is Susan ready? Me and her are going on a bear hunt.”

Susan’s mum called out to Susan that her little friend was here, and then commented to Tom that it was so nice that the two of them were such good friends and also honey and tuna sandwiches seemed like kind of an odd snack don’t you think?

“They’re not for us,” said Tom, not answering the rest of her comments because they were very weird, “they’re for the bear.”

Susan arrived at the front door with the sandwiches and said, “OK mum thanks for the sandwiches, bye.”

Her mum tried to get a photo of ‘the brave bear hunters’ before they left, but Susan made a face and said “Mum, stop being silly,” so her mum let them go unphotographed, saying they looked very cute together.

~

“Sorry about mum being weird,” said Susan. “Also, why do you have an umbrella?”

“My mum’s weird too,” said Tom. “She made me take it, and put on a jacket, too.”

Susan sighed. “Grown-ups are so silly.”

They didn’t talk much, because they needed their breath for walking, and also Susan wanted to pet Kyle a lot, which was OK because she was Tom’s best friend and visited all the time, so Kyle knew not to try to eat her. “You’re so lucky to have a dog,” said Susan.

Tom nodded. This was true. “You can visit whenever you want to play with him, though,” he said.

Susan nodded, and then they didn’t talk again until they got to the woods. “Which way?” asked Susan, and Tom pointed to Kyle with his hand that wasn’t holding the lead. Kyle was straining at the lead, not so hard that he would start dragging Tom with him, but he sniffed at the air and something seemed very interesting to him.

“Whichever way Kyle says,” said Tom. The pair of them followed Kyle into the woods.

As they got further in, Kyle got more excited, and they both had to hold onto the lead to stop him running off.

Then they saw the bear.

Obviously there was nothing strange about that; they had gone out on a bear hunt, so it was very normal and ordinary that they would find a bear, but on the other hand, there was a bear right there amongst some trees. Not a very big one, in fact a little bit smaller than Kyle, which made Tom feel a little bit less scared about how successfully their bear hunt had gone, but still.

They’d found a bear!

The bear didn’t run away or run at them when they found it; it just stood there looking around.

“Is it purring?” asked Susan.

“I don’t think bears cry,” said Tom. “I think they roar or something.”

“It looks like there’s something wrong with it.”

Kyle was quite excited at finding the bear, and was barking very loudly. “Good boy,” said Tom to Kyle. After all, he had found them a bear. “What do we do now?” he asked Susan.

“Should we tie Kyle up and have a closer look at the bear?”

Tom nodded, and the two of them tied his lead to a nearby branch. As they got closer they could see that one of the bear’s legs was in a trap. It was not a very big trap, probably not a proper bear trap, but this was not a very big bear.

“Oh, the poor bear,” said Susan. “We should free it.”

A small part of Tom thought that was a very strange thing to do on a bear hunt, but he nodded anyway, because Susan was his best friend, and he didn’t have any ideas of his own anyway. “I don’t know how to do that,” he said.

“We need to open the trap.”

“Not with our hands, though.”

Susan looked around and picked up a stick from the ground. “Is the bear going to let us get there to open the trap?”

“Try the sandwiches,” said Tom.

Susan took off her backpack and pulled out one of the sandwiches. She unwrapped it from its cling wrap and showed it to the bear. The bear sniffed at it. Susan dropped it in front of the bear, and the bear started eating. She dropped the rest of the sandwiches in front of the bear, and they quickly made their way around to the trap. Susan crammed the stick into the trap.

“We need another one,” she said. Tom looked around, but didn’t see any. Then he realised he was still holding the umbrella. He took it and stuck it, point first, into the trap’s opening. Then they both pulled in opposite directions using their stick and umbrella. After a lot of pulling, they managed to open it a tiny bit. The bear’s leg came free, and both Susan and Tom quickly let go. The trap snapped shut.

Tom and Susan ran over to Kyle, in case the bear was angry now that it was free, but the bear had scampered away, so they untied Kyle and walked back to Tom’s house to ask if Susan could stay for dinner. What with the bear eating all of the sandwiches, they were very hungry.

~

At the dinner table, Kyle’s mum asked them how the bear hunt had gone, and also where the umbrella was. Kyle ignored the umbrella question. “We found a bear,” he said, “but it got away.”

His mum suggested that was an awful shame. Susan shrugged. “Finding bears is the main point of a bear hunt. It doesn’t matter what happens after.”

Although afterwards, they both agreed that it mattered a bit what happened, and that actually it was good that it got away.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Yeah OK I'll write something I guess.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Boring Words are Expendable 1131 words

“We need to chat,” said Jeannie, and Sam nodded and thought that this was probably not going to be a chat he would enjoy, but mostly he thought of this drat tune that was in his head and he couldn’t remember what song it belonged to.

So the two of them walked out to the middle of the oval where they could talk privately, and Sam went through some of his favourite artists in his head in alphabetical order, but got stuck on ‘A’ when he couldn’t decide whether he should sort solo artists by first name or surname. Surname made more sense in a way, but that wasn’t the way they were, by default, sorted on his iPod. The two of them sat down; the grass was a little damp, but would be fine. Was it a theme song? He hoped it wasn’t from an ad.

“So I was just thinking about us, and we didn’t spend all that much time together over the break.” That was true. Also, the way she’d said that made him even less optimistic about the outcome of this chat. Also, he was now repeating the words ‘we need to chat’ in his head to that same drat tune. Didn’t sound like a rock kind of tune. ‘We need to chat’ was a phrase with an average syllable length of three. And if he rearranged the words, he could turn it into a group of three letter words that caused each original word to be bisected, and also she’d just broken up with him.

Well actually, what she’d said was “I think we should break up,” which technically speaking was just an opinion rather than a definite decision, but he didn’t see that it was the kind of thing that could really be argued against. It wasn’t like he was going to present an argument about why she was wrong about the best course of action for their relationship to take, right? And also he still had no idea what that drat tune was, and the phrase ‘we need to chat’ which had, by necessity of being able to bisect the words in the way he liked, been changed to ‘we to chat need,’ had lost all meaning and was just an unconnected group of words. But good words because they had an integer as their average number of letters per syllable, although the fact that they were all monosyllabic meant that he couldn’t rearrange them in other ways he fancied, unless he conjugated them or whatever. Which wasn’t out of the question. Maybe later, though, because the conversation had progressed to them agreeing that they would still be friends because each of the other was awesome, and then walking together to her bus stop.

~

“What’s happening, man?”

“Not much,” said Sam. “Got this annoying tune stuck in my head.”

“Oh yeah,” said George, “what tune?” They were at George’s place, because Sam’s place was on campus, and he didn’t really feel like being there right this moment, because he’d met Jeannie on campus, and if he hung around campus he was just gonna be hoping he’d bump into her, which was ridiculous because she’d gone home, and he didn’t need that right now. Although all he’d said to George was, “Wanna hang out?”

“Dunno,” said Sam, “that’s the annoying part.”

“Hum a bit for me.” Sam hummed a bit, but it was a fairly non-descript tune when hummed instead of played with instruments or whatever. Maybe it was an electronic song? George shrugged. “No idea, man.”

“Oh well,” said Sam. “Sure I’ll figure it out randomly during a lecture.”

“Listen,” said George, “you’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah, looking forward to it.”

“Jeannie too, right?”

Uh oh. “Huh, forgot to check with her. I’ll probably just come by myself.”

“Hey if she can’t make it that’s fine, she’s more than welcome though.”

Sam smiled and nodded.

~

Sam arrived at Lisa’s place early, because, again, he didn’t fancy hanging out on campus. “Well, look who’s Mr Punctual,” she said.

Sam shrugged. “George here yet?”

“Of course! I told him he had to help me set up, or he was dumped!”

“Right,” said Sam.

“I’m just joking.”

Sam cracked a smile out of the left side of his mouth. “Of course.”

“Jeannie couldn’t come?”

Sam shrugged. “I didn’t end up asking her. She’s pretty busy.”

Lisa shook her head. “Worst boyfriend ever! I’m gonna ring her.”

“I’ll go say hi to George,” said Sam, and headed out the back door. ‘Worst boyfriend ever’ was an annoying phrase. It kind of almost averaged four syllables if you chopped ‘ever’ in half. The only word you could remove to make it average an integer of letters per syllable was ‘boyfriend’, which wasn’t ideal because it was the longest word. And neither ‘worst boyfriend ever’ nor ‘worst ever’ fit quite well enough to that drat tune. “Hey George.” George was in the backyard sitting back in one of the lawn chairs. The furniture was one of the main reasons Lisa’s place was often chosen for social gatherings. And the large area.

At least ‘worst boyfriend ever’ had some polysyllabic words. Wasn’t ideal, though. Only one monosyllabic word. Made messing with the phrase in terms of polysyllabic vs monosyllabic words an entirely unsatisfying venture.

“Hey,” said George, “what’s happening.”

“Still got that tune stuck in my head.”

“You know,” said George, “pretty sure there’s an app for that.”

“What?”

“Here,” said George, and got out his phone. “Hang on a bit. Aha!” He held up his phone to Sam. “See, this app can recognise songs even if you’re humming.”

“No way,” said Sam. “That’s awesome.”

“Right?” said George. He tapped the phone a few times. “That’s downloaded now. Come on, hum your tune.”

Sam hummed the tune into the phone, and the two of them looked at the screen. “Hmmm, nah, that’s not it,” said Sam.

George shrugged. “I dunno what to say man, maybe you need to get better at humming.”

Lisa appeared at the back door. “Sam, why didn’t you tell me you and Jeannie broke up?”

“Wait,” said George, “what? When did this happen?”

Sam shrugged. ‘Maybe you need to get better at humming’ was a pretty good phrase. He’d have to drop one of the two syllable words to get it to average three letters per syllable, but that was near best case scenario, all things considered. Prepositions were kind of boring anyway. Good mix of polysyllabic and monosyllabic, too. Down for every syllable of a polysyllabic and up for every syllable of a monosyllabic word meant equal time heading into negative as positive, too. “I dunno, guess I just had other stuff on my mind,” he said.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



f

fjgj?

FJGJ!

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Ininininin

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Small Dog 1342 words

I woke up in the middle of the night. This had been a common occurrence for the past week or so, but this time it wasn’t just because of the empty space beside me where Kath no longer was. It had more to do with the UFO outside my house that was in the process of abducting Joan of Bark.

Joan had been Kath’s dog. I’d never really liked her, but I still wasn’t about to let some aliens take away a reminder of Kath.

Joan didn’t seem to take kindly to being abducted, and was squirming around and yapping as she slowly, gently, levitated towards the hatch at the bottom of the UFO. The neighbours’ dogs joined in, and there was a harmony of barking.

“Dad?” Tony was calling from downstairs. “What’s happening outside?”

“Tony,” I said, “I want you to grab the ladder from under the stairs and bring it up to the roof.”

“Aren’t I not supposed to walk on the roof?”

“Yes,” I said, “normally that’s true. But this once, we have to go out there, all right?”

“Good to know the rules can be broken under certain circumstances, Dad.”

I shook my head. This wasn’t an argument I could deal with right now. “Just get it up here!”

He arrived in my room with the ladder, and we both walked out onto the roof. “Ah,” he said as he saw the UFO.

“Yep,” I said. I took the ladder from him and leaned it against the UFO. “Hold this steady.”

“This looks dangerous,” he said, but he held it steady.

“They’re not taking Joan of Bark,” I said.

“You didn’t even like her.”

I started climbing. “She was Mum’s. They’re not taking her.” He didn’t reply and I kept climbing until I reached the top and stepped onto the UFO. I turned and peered over the edge at him. “Just because I’m busy saving Joan from aliens doesn’t mean you can stay up late, by the way,” I called.

He cupped his hand to his ear and seemed to mouth something like, “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” I shook my head and looked for an entrance.

From the top of the UFO, it was more obvious what its general shape was; it was basically a disc. In the centre of the disc was a hatch, which I walked to, open, and climbed into. There were two corridors leading from where I was, and nothing in particular to recommend one over the other. So I just picked one and followed it.

I reached a corner and peered around it. Here, the corridor reached a door. I went to the door, opened it, and looked inside. Inside the room there was a table, around which three men sat and talked.

Not aliens. Men.

“Are you sure this is the right one?” asked one.

The one in the middle, who appeared to be the boss, said, “Absolutely. Everything is as the portents foretold. Our time is night.”

There was a pause, and the third man said, “Are you sure you don’t mean ‘nigh’?”

“What?” asked the boss.

“Nigh. Our time is nigh.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No,” said the first man, “you said ‘night’. I thought maybe you meant that the night time was the right time for us to be - for us to do our thing.”

“I think I know what I said,” said the boss.

“I definitely heard ‘night’,” said the third man. The boss slapped him, and the third man said, “Ow.”

“Right,” said the boss. “Ian, you go and bring our guest to us, all right?”

The first man, the one who wasn’t the boss and also hadn’t been slapped, saluted the boss and left the room via the opposite doorway.

“That was totally unnecessary,” said the man who was now rubbing his face. “You know these bodies bruise easily.”

“Quit your whingeing,” said the boss. “We probably won’t be in them for long, anyway.”

The two of them sat and did nothing much for a few minutes, and I glanced around to see if there was anything solid I could use to beat them senseless with. My glancings proved fruitless, and eventually Ian returned with a squirming, yapping, Joan.

“It definitely doesn’t look like the chosen one,” said the slapped man.

“She,” said the boss. “And have some respect.”

Ian put Joan on the table and pulled a small device from one of his pockets. He twiddled a dial and pointed the device at Joan.

“What do you want?” asked Joan. “I’ll go you. Come over here and say that mate, I’ll take you.”

So, that was weird. Joan of Bark had never spoken before, and we’d had her for seven years.

“I meant no disrespect,” said Ian. “But you’re the chosen one.”

“Chosen what?” asked Joan. “Nah forget it. I’ll bite you, mate. Come over here. I’ll bite your face. I’ll bite you. Fight me.”

“Um,” said the slapped one. “How specific were these portents?”

“You wanna go too?” asked Joan. “I’ll go all of you. Bring it mate, you and me and him and him, let’s go, let’s do this.”

“We must’ve misread the portents,” said the boss. “She is not the chosen one after all. Ian, please destroy her.

It was at this point that I decided to intervene. A couple of quick strides put me directly behind the boss and his slapped minion, and I belted the already slapped head of his minion, while Joan latched onto Ian’s ankle. I pulled the chair out from the collapsing body of the minion, and beat the boss around the head with it.

“Yeah, that’s it, my mate’s here, youse blokes are stuffed now,” said Joan.

His ankle released, Ian turned and tried to kick her, but she was surprisingly agile and dodged out of the way.

“Come and have a go. Oi, oi mate, have a go. I’ll bite your face,” said Joan. She didn’t, though, because while Ian was trying to kick her, I knocked him out with the chair. She jumped into my arms and licked my face. “Hey. Hey mate what’s up. Good one, we took those pricks, ey? They won’t mess with us again.”

“No,” I said. “Also, I didn’t know you could talk.”

“Neither,” she said. “Feels weird. I wanna widdle on ‘em.”

I let her down and she widdled all over them. When she widdled over Ian’s gadget, though, it sparked and set fire to the table. “Think we’d better leave,” I said, and bent down with my hands out to Joan.

“Yap,” she yapped, then cocked her head to one side in confusion, and yapped a bunch more times.

With Joan in my arms, I ran back to the hatch and climbed on top of the UFO again. I tucked Joan down the front of my pyjamas, and quickly climbed down the ladder. As I turned to look at the UFO, the lights on the side went haywire, and the UFO started to behave erratically. It flew straight up, and then did an immediate right turn, changed directions again and flew straight into the oak tree in the back yard, then burst into flames.

“I guess we’d better call the fire department,” I said to Joan, who yapped in agreement, then wriggled out of my top and landed on the roof, then scampered over to my window and back inside the house.

~

After we’d called the fire department, firemen had come to put out the fire, and then a group of men had come in a fleet of pink ice cream vans to sanitise the area. Tony and Joan and I had to live across the city for a few weeks while they sorted everything out, but I felt like everything was going to be all right.

“I though you didn’t like Joan of Bark,” Tony once mentioned, as I’d been playing with and petting and talking to Joan more often.

I shrugged. “She was Mum’s. Besides, she’s growing on me.”

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Sub here.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZEdDMQZaCU

In

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



In please give me a classic fight

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



You Fight Like a Girl (Spoilers the Girl is Chun Li and is Very Good at Fighting and Will Totally Kick You in the Face) 535 words

“You should play as Guile,” said Eddie.

“Nah,” said Jimmy, “I prefer Chun Li.”

“But she’s a girl.”

Jimmy shrugged. “I know her moves.”

“Have you even tried Guile?”

“Can’t be bothered, all the other characters are all quarter circle punch or something and I always forget, Chun Li’s just kick kick kick kick kick kick…”

“Yeah all right I get it, but give Guile a go, he’s awesome.”

“Pass.”

Eddie shook his head, and then unplugged Jimmy’s controller. Jimmy frowned, plugged it back in, and slapped Eddie in the back of the head.

“Come on, stop being a little girl,” said Eddie. He unplugged Jimmy’s controller again and then shoved Jimmy’s chair over.

“Oh,” said Jimmy, “it is on.” He picked up the controller by the cord, swung it around his head and threw it at Eddie. It bounced off of Eddie’s head, and Eddie dive tackled Jimmy into the sofa. Jimmy slapped Eddie about the face while Eddie pummelled him repeatedly in the ribs.

Jimmy pushed Eddie off with his legs, then picked up the chair and broke it over Eddie’s head. Eddie shook his head, then jumped up, grabbed onto the ceiling fan, and let it swing him around so his feet kicked Jimmy in the face. On his second revolution, he let go and body slammed Jimmy.

“What are you kids doing down there?” yelled their mum.

“Nothing, mum,” called Eddie. Jimmy didn’t reply, because he’d had the wind knocked out of him from the body slam. “So, are you gonna play as Guile?” he asked Jimmy.

“Fine,” said Jimmy, so Eddie helped him up, and Jimmy grabbed him around the waist and suplexed him into the sofa.

“That’s it,” yelled their mum. She was now standing in the doorway. “I’ve told you before what’s going to happen if you kids start a fight in the living room.”

“No Mum,” said Jimmy.

“Not that,” said Eddie. “We’re sorry, we’ll clean everything up.”

“It’s too late,” said Mum. She flexed her muscles, and her shirt tore at the sleeves. “You woke the storm, now get ready to reap the thunder!” She jumped up on the back of the sofa, then jumped off, slamming both boys to the floor and pinning them beneath her mighty thighs. “Start the count!”

Dad jumped through the window, glass shattering inwards. He quickly got down on the ground next to them and started counting. “One! Two! Three!” He rung a bell. “Sorry boys, you know what that means.”

Jimmy and Eddie hung their head in disappointment. “Yes Dad.” Eddie walked to their parents’ bedroom, took Dad’s belt from his wardrobe, and gave it to Dad. Dad took it, tested it in his hand where it gave a satisfying ‘thwack’, and then passed it to Mum. She raised it triumphantly above her head.

“No need to rub it in,” said Eddie.

“Now go to your rooms,” said Dad. And that night, Jimmy and Eddie had to go without TV while Mum and Dad played Street Fighter II and ate all the ice cream.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Broooooompt!

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



a. don't take it down
b. don't edit your story post, just feel free to double post or whatever

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



c. fjgj

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



d. prooooooompt!

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Wait was one of those crits not supposed to be of GenJoe's story, or was he supposed to get two crits?

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



in I guess

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



good crits mojo thx

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



May I have some lyrics please

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Is a Mushroom a Thallic Symbol? 1036 words

Marvin the Mushroom King surveyed his kingdom and said, “Whoops.” His remaining advisor, Ulysses, nodded. “I mean, this is really upsetting.”

“Mmhmm,” said Ulysses.

“Who could’ve predicted this?”

“Roger did.”

“Oh yeah,” said King Marvin. “Where is Roger now?” Ulysses pointed down to where Roger was being chewed on by one of the delegates from the Pig Empire. “Right. Poor Roger. So, in retrospect a bad alliance. Lesson learned and all that.”

“So, what now your majesty?”

Marvin inclined his cap in thought. “Might be best to make ourselves scarce. They don’t seem to be getting full.”

“Right,” said Ulysses. “To the Fungi Ferrari?”

“Indeed,” said Marvin. The two of them slid towards the vehicle and rolled in. Ulysses rolled into the driver’s side and leaned on the controls, and the pod rolled away at the speed of spores.

~

“Right,” said Marvin, King-in-Exile of the Mushroom kingdom, “we need some kind of plan.”

“To get your kingdom back,” said Ulysses, nodding and swaying slightly in the breeze.

“Well, all right, that’s one option,” said Marvin. “But I was thinking of a plan that wouldn’t involve us probably dying.”

“Um, so what would be the end goal of this plan?”

“I dunno,” said Marvin. “How about we just make a new kingdom? The two of us. You can be the top advisor.”

“Kind of feels like that’s already my job.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Marvin. “And this stump here is my new palace.”

“Right,” said Ulysses. “I’ll just… I’ll just set up the royal throne over here then. Next to some leaves.”

“Sure,” said Marvin. “That looks pretty regal.”

~

It was day two of the reign of King Marvin over his new kingdom, The Mushroom kingdom pigless edition. It was going quite well, in that during this reign, Marvin had not made any ill advised alliances with mushroom eating pigs. Marvin was doing some super good ruling over the kingdom, which at that moment was him and Ulysses, which made ruling a little less complicated, which was nice, when Ulysses slid into his throne room. Well, not so much a room as a cleared out patch of ground next to some leaves.

“Excuse me, your highness,” said Ulysses. “Queen Ethel is on the Fungi Fone.”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” said Marvin.

“You forgot about her?”

“Yeaaaaah,” said Marvin. “Wow, this is awkward. With me kind of not being at my old kingdom and stuff. Almost seems like I ran away, abandoned my responsibilities and all that.”

“Almost,” said Ulysses.

“Did she sound mad?”

“Why don’t I just let you talk to her?” suggested Ulysses.

“I mean, do I have to?”

“She was quite insistent.”

Marvin took the Fone in his gills. “Hey, honey,” he said.

“Oh, Marvin,” said Ethel. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I didn’t think you would’ve survived the battle.”

“Ah yes,” said Marvin. “The battle. That.”

“Where are you?” asked Ethel.

Marvin looked around. “You know what, hadn’t really tried to figure that out. There’s a really neat stump here that I’ve turned into my new palace.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Ulysses hung his cap in his stem.

“Your new palace,” said Ethel. It was somewhere between a question and an accusation.

“It’s very nice,” said Marvin. “Open air, much nicer breeze than that old palace.”

“What part of the kingdom is this ‘new palace’ of yours in?” asked Ethel.

“You know,” said Marvin, “I think technically it’s not in the old kingdom. But we’ve formed a new kingdom, with me as the king, and Ulysses here, you know Ulysses, as the second in charge, and it has one hundred percent fewer pigs than the old kingdom.”

Ethel treated Marvin to an icy silence.

“I mean, if you came and joined us, you’d be promoted straight up to equal first,” said Marvin.

“Marvin J Fungus, you come back here right now and you take your kingdom back from these pigs,” she said.

“All right, fine,” said Marvin. “I guess.”

“Good.” And she hung up very loudly.

“To the Fungi Ferrari?” asked Ulysses.

Marvin nodded, and sighed. “I suppose we better.”

~

And so they got back in the Fungi Ferrari and rolled back towards Marvin’s rightful kingdom. As they got closer to the palace, they saw a pig chewing on a mushroom. “Hmm,” said Marvin. “Now that I think of it, that kind of ticks me off a bit, having my subjects eaten.”

“Mmm,” said Ulysses.

“Can you try to ram that pig or something?”

“Well, I guess,” said Ulysses. He slammed his cap into the controls of the pod, and the pod changed directions, hurtling towards the pig and burying itself in the pig’s left nostril.

“This is so gross,” said Marvin.

“Actually,” said Ulysses, “I can work with this.” He battered at the controls with his cap and his stem, and the pod sprayed something into the pig’s nostril. The pig snorted, sneezed out the car, squealed loudly and rushed in the opposite direction.

“What was that?” asked Marvin.

“Just a little biological warfare,” said Ulysses.

“That seems a little unsporting,” said Marvin. “And possibly a war crime.”

“Yeah, well they ate us, so I’d call that about even.”

“I guess,” said Marvin. “So we just go and spray all the pigs with that?”

“No need, your highness,” said Ulysses. “It’s contagious.”

“Ah,” said Marvin. “A bit anticlimactic, as battles go.”

“Yes, well,” said Ulysses, “let’s go rescue the queen, shall we?”

“Good idea,” said Marvin. “I hope she hasn’t been eaten.”

Fortunately, she had not been eaten, and she was very impressed when Ulysses and Marvin told her that the pigs had fled once they’d witnessed their might in battle, and definitely hadn’t resorted to underhanded tactics at all. By that evening, the kingdom was completely free of pigs, except for a couple of rotting corpses, which was all right because mushrooms can totally use those nutrients, although they tried not to think about whether it was weird that they were basically eating something that had eaten a bunch of mushrooms which, well was that kind of cannibalism by proxy, when you think about it?

So they didn’t think too much about it.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



fjgj

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



give me some music please

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Did he who Made the Lamb Make Thee?

Khuram wasn’t doing anything overtly menacing as he walked down the road. Nothing in his demeanour that warranted such reactions from the residents. Indeed, he had a very pleasant and warm smile. Yet did they greet him?

Certainly not. They ran in terror, yelling such things as “Run, there’s a tiger on the loose!” or “It looks super hungry and will probably try to eat me!” which Khuram found a bit insulting, but also confusing. Were they saying he looked underweight, in which case rude, or were they saying he looked like he loved eating, in which case, also rude.

In any case, he ignored their very impolite words and continued down the road until he came to a marketplace. Mostly the marketplace was quickly emptying itself in the opposite direction to that from which Khuram approached, but in the middle of the marketplace was an elephant.

“Oh, hey there,” said Khuram. “How’s things, bro?”

“Not so much with the bro, thanks,” said the elephant. “We sisters don’t care for that.”

“Oh sorry,” said Khuram, “you elephants all kind of look the same, you know?”

The elephant frowned. “I don’t really see it, myself.”

“Sorry, I think we got off on the wrong paw, I’m Khuram.”

“Lakshmi,” said the elephant.

“Oh hey,” said Khuram, “you’ve got one of those dudes on your back there.

“Yeah,” said Lakshmi. “That’s my life, thanks for the reminder.” The dude in question looked a little pale. He also was looking increasingly interested in maybe running away, but also maybe not because maybe he was safer on top of an elephant, who knows.

“Why not just get rid of him?” asked Khuram. “He’s much smaller than you.”

“Ha sure,” said Lakshmi. “Just get rid of him. Simple as that.”

“Well, yeah?”

“I suppose you think I should just shake him off my back, or pick him up with my trunk and throw him in the trash?”

“Well I wasn’t suggesting anything in particular,” said Khuram, “but yeah, either of those work I guess?”

“Yeah, well…” and here Lakshmi stopped for a moment and pondered. “Hmmm, he is actually way smaller than me, now.”

“Right?” said Khuram.

And Lakshmi picked up the man from her back and placed him head first inside a bin. “Hmmm,” she said, “not really sure what to do with my life now.”

“I dunno, maybe hang out with some other elephants, have pool parties, whatever it is elephants do?”

“I guess,” said Lakshmi. “Know where any elephants are?”

“Not really sure,” said Khuram. “I can help you look, if you’d like.”

“Promise you won’t try to eat me?”

“Why do people keep saying that?”

Lakshmi shrugged. “I just heard some of those little guys saying it.”

“Yeah, well, I think your hide would probably be too tough. Anyway, wanna blow this joint?”

So, the two wandered off in search of more elephants, and would’ve become friends for life except that the next morning Lakshmi woke to find Khuram trying to chew on her leg. “Come on, really?” she said, and slapped him in the face with her trunk, dislocating his jaw.

By the time he managed to put his jaw back into place, she’d gone. “Well I had to try,” he said to no one in particular. “Imagine being the tiger who successfully ate a whole elephant. You’d be famous.”

Instead of a friendless loser again, which is what he was.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Hook me up with a song pls

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Kaishai posted:

In your capable hands I place Switzerland 2007: DJ BoBo - "Vampires Are Alive."

The Undeath of the Party 1009 words

“Oh hey, glad you made it!”

Olga liked Robert. Not ‘like’ liked, just, you know, he was a nice guy. Usually she wouldn’t bother going to parties, but he was fun to hang out with, didn’t make fun of the fact that she was always clothed head to toe during daylight hours, and didn’t get weird when she had a blood pack for recess. She smiled. Usually she consciously tried to keep her mouth closed when she smiled, but Robert had a way of making her smile a full fanged smile. “Hey, I couldn’t miss your birthday.”

“We’re all out the back,” said Robert.

After a longer than comfortable pause in which Olga stood outside and looked at Robert, and Robert stood holding the door looking at Olga, she said, “Uh. May I come in?”

“Oh, sorry,” said Robert, “didn’t I already invite you on the Facebook event page?”

“It’s not really the same thing.”

“Right,” said Robert. “Please, come in.” So, Olga did.

There were only a few people out the back. A few others from school, including Robert’s younger sister, Erica. Olga liked Erica, too. Erica thought Olga was cool, despite all evidence to the contrary, like almost no one else at school agreeing with her.

Except Robert.

And the goth kids, but that was kind of a weird and creepy dynamic.

So, Olga chatted with Erica, and Erica asked her usual curious questions like what happened if she went out in sunlight, and how much blood did Olga drink per day, and could she fly, which would be annoying from most people but was endearing from Erica, and not just because she was Robert’s sister.

But there was that too.

Robert’s dad came around with some snacks. “Garlic bread?” he asked, holding out a plate.

“No thanks,” said Olga, leaning away slightly.

“She can’t,” said Erica.

“Ah,” he said. “You must be Olga. Robert talks about you a lot. I mean, not a lot. A bit. Some.”

“Those guys over there are probably hungry,” said Erica, pointing, and her dad quickly rushed away. “Sorry,” she said to Olga. “He’s so awkward.”

Olga smiled down at her. “He’s not so bad.”

And they put this embarrassing incident behind them and continued chatting, and Erica and Robert’s dad went back inside.

“Hey, glad you two are getting on well,” said Robert. He’d been wandering between a few different groups of friends, and was now standing next to them.

“Well of course,” said Erica. “Olga’s awesome.”

Robert smiled. “That’s true.”

“Are you enjoying your party?” asked Olga.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” said Robert. “Although it’s a bit hard with the different groups, if you know what I mean? Like, I almost wish I could have had a separate party with each little group.”

Olga shrugged. “I’m sure we’d be happy to have a separate party with you any time.”

“Nah,” said Erica, “I spend more than enough time with you, Rob; you should have a separate party with just you and Olga, instead.”

“Yeah, why not?” asked Robert, glancing at Olga.

“I’d love to,” said Olga, and would’ve blushed had she been physically capable.

“Uh. We’ll continue this later, all right?” he said. He was blushing, just a little bit. “I’d better check on the steaks,” he said, heading inside. “You like yours rare, right?”

Olga nodded. She actually liked it blue, but she didn’t feel confident about talking right now. Robert disappeared back inside, and Erica smiled a wide smile. “Best wingman ever?” she asked.

Olga smiled as well, put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick side hug. “Yeah, you’re all right.”

Erica’s smile fell, and Olga looked over to what she was looking at. Or rather, who. ‘Who’ was Keith. Olga did not like Keith. He occasionally joked that the real reason she always covered up all the way during the day what that she was so ugly that no one could bear to look at her under natural sunlight.

“How cute, the two freaks hanging out together.”

Olga sighed. “Can we just put whatever this is on hold, Keith?” she asked. “Just for tonight?”

“Put what on hold?” he asked. “I’m just making conversation with the freak patrol.”

“Whatever weird hang up you have with me,” she said. “Can we not do this at Robert’s party?”

“No,” said Keith, “we can’t not do this.” He stopped for a moment, as if figuring out whether the sentence he’d just spoken ‘worked’. “You’re a freak,” and he pointed a finger at Olga, “and you,” he pointed at Erica, “are a freak for thinking it’s all right to hang out with her.”

Olga shrugged. “All right. We’re freaks. Glad that’s settled. Are we done here?”

“No,” said Keith, and pulled a slice of garlic bread out from behind his back. “You’re going to eat this.”

He moved towards her, pushing the bread towards her mouth, but Olga moved faster, slapping the bread out of his hand, and delivering a solid whack to his hand in the process.

“What are you guys doing?” asked Robert. The bread had fallen at his feet as he’d come back outside.

“I think your freak of a girlfriend broke my hand!” said Keith, who was cradling the hand in question in his other hand.

“What? She’s not… we’re not…” said Robert.

“He attacked her with garlic bread!” yelled Erica.

“Well I bet she’d like to be your girlfriend,” said Keith, “and she broke my hand!”

“No, she wouldn’t,” said Robert, “and did you seriously…”

“Yes, I would,” said Olga.

“What?” asked Robert.

Olga opened her mouth. “I didn’t… I mean, it slipped out.”

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that she broke my hand?” asked Keith.

“Yes,” said Erica.

“Go inside and put ice on it,” said Robert. “And either calm down or go home. I won’t have people at my party attacking my…” he paused and looked at Olga, and she smiled and nodded. “…my girlfriend.”

“Yaaaaay!” said Erica, and hugged Olga.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



I feel like no one yet has mentioned what kind of judging is good judging.

(It's fast judging, btw)

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



prompt imo

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



also fjgj

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



prompt imo

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



fjgj

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



flash and flash

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Sitting Here posted:

Sparkling under a watchful sky


Satellite of Love (749 Words)

It was a near perfect morning. Birdsong, sunshine, and the moon peered in and said, “Hello”. Ben closed the blinds and tried to ignore this lunar irregularity.

As Ben drove to work, the moon started talking again. “Hey buddy. What’s up. Big day today?” Ben pulled over and covered the window on that side of the car with his heat shield. Visibility suffered, but it was preferable to the moon’s chatter.

Ben’s cubicle at work was next to a window, which most days up until now had been a good thing. Today the moon was out that window, which, it’d been on the other side before he thought, but nonetheless there it was. “Hey Ben. How’re you doing bro? Any plans tonight? C’mon Ben, what’s happening, eh?”

Ben told his supervisor he had some work to catch up on in the basement. He’d been putting it off because working in the basement was kind of gloomy.

When Ben emerged from the basement to get lunch, his phone pinged him with three missed calls.

Cecilia.

He called her back. “Sorry, I wasn’t avoiding you, I had no reception.”

“You remember about tonight, right?”

Oh. He had not. “Of course, been looking forward to it all day.”

“All right then, see you tonight.”

He hoped she’d be all right with a date away from any windows.

He hurried to the café to grab lunch, and tried to ignore the moon. “Hey Ben, didn’t see you much this morning. Been busy? Yeah, me too. Gotta do the tides and stuff, y’know.”

Ben grabbed a wrap and went back to the basement.

On the drive home, he had to pull over three times to reposition the heat shield, because every time, somehow the moon would suddenly be chatting to him from the other side of the car. “You know, Ben, I feel like that might technically be against the road rules, hampering your visibility like that, but what do I know about driving, eh?”

Eventually he made it home, went inside, drew the blinds, and started preparing for his date. Fortunately, he had arranged to meet Cecilia at the restaurant rather than picking her up. He gave himself some extra time to get there, to make up for time lost with heat shield window swapping.

He got there early, and as the restaurant wasn’t overly busy, was able to secure a booth seat that wasn’t in view of the windows. He could see them, and the doors, if he peered around, which he only did when he heard the door swing from someone entering.

Cecilia arrived, and Ben went to greet her with an awkward ‘is this going to be a hug or a handshake’ gesture. Cecilia hugged him. “Batting above your average, Ben,” said the moon.

Ben ignored it. “I got us a booth just over here,” he said.

After dinner, Ben looked at his watch. “I guess you probably have to go, then.”

“Wow,” said Cecilia, “date was that bad that you’re trying to get rid of me already?”

“What?” said Ben. “No, the date was fantastic.” It had been. Ben had almost been able to forget there was a massive natural satellite trying to communicate with him. “If you’re happy to extend the date, that would be great.”

Celia laughed. “I was just messing with you. Let’s go for a walk on the beach.”

“Sounds good,” said Ben.

So, they walked along the beach, and they chatted, or Cecilia did, and Ben tried to concentrate, but the moon was getting quite personal.

“She’s too good for you. You know this, right? Way out of your league.”

And Ben nodded to whatever Cecilia had been saying, which was probably something very interesting or funny, but he couldn’t tell for sure because-

“You’d better treat her right, Ben. If you break her heart, I will destroy your house. You know I control the tides, right?”

“Are you listening to me, Ben?” asked Cecilia.

“Sorry, just distracted,” said Ben.

“It’s him,” said Cecilia, pointing at the moon, “isn’t it?”

“Um.”

“Right,” said Cecilia, “I’ve had about enough of him doing this.”

She stood up straight and tall, and she was as big as the sky, and she reached out and took the moon from the sky and hurled it into the ocean.

“Let it go, and grow up!” she yelled at the moon. “This is why we didn’t work!”

Which was weird, but the rest of the date went well.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



FJGJ

Oh wait no one's declared submissions closed? How weird and embarrassing.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Thanks for fast prompting pick me a dog pls

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Thanks for crits guys

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



pffft reading is for nerds

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Gimme a picture.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



flashruleme

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Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.




Bad Seafood posted:

The neighbors were terrifyingly human.

Salvaged (797 Words)

Gemma steered her kayak slowly towards what appeared to have been a cinema. Hezekiah perched on her paddle, constantly shifting his feet like he was riding a spinning barrel. She’d tried to move him to a more stable perch on the kayak itself, but he always moved back to the paddle, between her two hands.

The glass doors had been smashed, and she carefully navigated the kayak inside. As expected, nothing useable on the ground floor. She guided the kayak to the staircase, got out, and pulled the kayak up after her. Hopefully there was a vending machine upstairs.

When she and Hezekiah paddled back out of the cinema, they did so with several bottles of water and bags of chips in the bottom of the kayak. She opened a packet of Twisties, and they shared a snack. They were still snacking when they heard the splash, and the scream. Gemma paddled harder, and Hezekiah hopped onto her head for a more stable ride.

The splasher was in the water just ahead of them. Gemma pulled alongside, reached down and pulled the splasher up by their hand. “Hold on,” said Gemma, placing their hand on the side of the kayak. “Don’t try to climb up, or we’ll both fall in. Understand?” A small head nodded up at her.

Gemma glanced around. There was a multi storey office block with a fire escape on one side of the street; Gemma paddled over to it and the former splasher climbed up the ladder and lay panting on the metal grille. “You look a bit young to be out here by yourself,” said Gemma.

“I’m almost twelve!” said the splasher. Gemma raised an eyebrow. “My dad’s around somewhere. He’s doing some boring stuff for his work, so I was exploring.”

Gemma nodded. “I’d better hang around until he gets here.”

“Thanks, by the way,” said the splasher. “My name’s Carly.”

“Please to meet you, Carly,” said Gemma. She took a rope and tied her kayak to the ladder, then climbed up, with Hezekiah perched on her head still. “Do you know how much longer your father’s going to be?”

Carly shrugged. “Maybe an hour?”

Gemma sighed. “All right. Where were you supposed to meet him?”

“Around here,” said Carly.

So, they sat on the fire escape and waited.

“I like your bird,” said Carly.

Gemma glanced up at Hezekiah. “Him? Yeah, he’s all right.”

“Can I pat him?”

“Best you don’t,” said Gemma. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

They sat and chatted some more, or at least Carly chatted and Gemma nodded and shrugged and grunted at what seemed like the appropriate times to not be rude, and after what seemed like much longer than an hour, a motorboat came down the street.

A man stood up in the motorboat and looked up at them. “Didn’t expect someone else to be here. The area’s not supposed to be open to the public.”

“She helped me after I fell in,” said Carly. “She’s nice, and her bird is real neat too.”

He looked at Gemma. “That true?”

Gemma shrugged. “The bit about being nice is up for debate.”

He nodded. “Well, thank you then.” He shifted his gaze to Carly. “I thought I told you to stay put, young lady.”

“But I was bored!”

“But dry,” he said. He shook his head, and addressed Gemma again. “If you have nowhere else to stay tonight, we’ve got a pretty cosy corner in one of the office blocks. We’ve even got a generator up there.”

“All right,” said Gemma. It was getting quite late, and the hour she’d spent minding Carly was an hour she hadn’t been able to spend heading back to her camp.

“I’m Mike,” said the man.

“Nice to meet you, Mike,” said Gemma.

Mike waited for a moment, then shrugged when it became apparent that Gemma was not going to introduce herself. “Down you come, young lady,” he said, holding his hands up to Carly. She got into the motorboat, and Gemma and Hezekiah got back into her kayak, and the four of them navigated their way down the street.

Their setup in the office blocks was a pretty good one. Not only electricity, but blankets and mattresses, and even a towel and a change of clothes for Carly. Gemma started setting up the bed she’d been offered, while the other two sat and talked.

Half an hour later, it was clear they were going to keep talking, so Gemma excused herself and went to bed. After two more hours, the two of them were still talking, and Gemma despaired of ever sleeping.

She woke up to their snoring. She looked over at them, then collected Hezekiah and returned to her kayak.

“People talk too much,” she told him.

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