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The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


I promised on the Discord that I would Judge this week if I lost last week. I did, so, I would like to judge.


The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


M Crits!!!
This week kind of made me wonder if some of you knew what a story is. Then again, perhaps I should be the one asking that.

Ceighk-Death and the Cat and the Maiden.

A certain thought went through my head as I was reading this story. “Why the hell should I care?” In my opinion, the story wasn’t necessarily good or bad, it just merely existed. While I have not been around Thunderdome too long, I do not know any stories that won just by “Merely Existing”. 5 out of 10 EDIT: Sure enough, it freaking lost!


I do like that the story seems like it’s being told by a High as A Kite Indian Medicine Man. Other than that, It’s just a whole bunch of telling. I know my stories get a lot of crap for showing more than telling, but showing is important, as well! 6 out of 10 Only higher due to Medicine Man style of storytelling EDIT: The other Judges liked this one more.

Flerp-Songs at the End

Storywise, it was merely okay. It was a story that was good enough that I wouldn’t give it a mention. But one thing bothered me. There were one or two sentences that had more commas than necessary and seemed rather run-on. A fan of the Apostle Paul, or simply lazy? You make the call! 6 out of 10

Charichucker-Maybe I should rebrand to reduce confusion*

M looks at the story. “Who the hell uses apostrophes as quotation marks these days?”
With that being said, the story seemed far too simple for Thunderdome. It was a silly story that basically said, “LOL! Animalz r dum”. Was the Tree’s social commentary even necessary?
Here in thunderdome, I am always amazed to see folks pull good stories out of their asses. But this clearly said, “I typed this crap in a few hours”. 3 out of 10 EDIT: While I didn’t like it, apparently the other Judges did???

Yeah ok ok yeah- Sea Otter and the Mountain

Once again, this seems like a Medicine Man story. This one is slightly more interesting than Sparksbloom’s story, however. Going through the Judge Chat did help me see it in a better light. 6 out of 10

Sitting Here- Portulaca Oleracea

Somewhat interesting. Not sure if it’s some metaphor for man, one for sex, or if it’s one of those stories where one could add, “Do you know what this says about SOCIETY???” and the meaning won’t be lost. 7 out of 10, Possible HM


This somewhat reminds me of that horror week back in October, and perhaps if this story was posted that week, the prompt might have been “Documentary Horror”. It’s interesting enough as a documentary, but I’m not sure if it counts as a story. ? out of 10, will see what other judges say. EDIT: They hated it!

Nae-A Cars Fanfic for Beezus

First of all, I’m not sure if you misunderstood Beezus’s words or not. Second of all, this isn’t that bad at all! One of the better stories I have seen so far, and that’s mostly because it’s an actual story. 8 out of 10, possible win if allowed, DQ if not. EDIT: It was, but the other Judges didn’t like it as much.

Thranguy- Constellation

A rather simple story. Some could even find it inspirational. Some might ask why the stars are coming to life, but the story was decent enough that I could argue, “Who freaking cares?” 7 out of 10 Either HM or Winner, depending on if Fanfic is accepted or not EDIT: It was, but this one was preferred.

Captain_Indigo-The Scarecrow Sentinel


Jokes aside, it was a nice fable, and a fable is technically a story. The ending kind of falls flat, though not as much as Batman V. Superman. I’ll check what the other judges say, but I think this is at least a HM. 6 out of 10, at least HM.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


In, prompt please.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Prompt: The kettle had chilly feet and wide lakes. It didn't look dangerous. Not even its backward trees warned me of my fate. I should have sensed the danger in its mouths

How Andy became a man
1098 Words

In Colorado, winter sports are everything. While many athletes strive for your regular sports such as Football, Basketball, and Baseball, for Coloradans, winter is their time to shine. Junior and Senior High Schools everywhere go to their local lodges to complete in what many consider their season of glory. For many students, sports such as Skiing, Snowboarding, and even Sledding has become somewhat of a rite of passage.

To many young men of Colorado, success in such sports is how they ‘become men’. For many it is figurative, since they will obviously become men later. But for Aspen native Andy Davis, it is quite literal. Why? Because a few years back, Andy was Ann. Yes, Andy is a transgender male. So, he hopes have an opportunity to ‘become a man’.

That opportunity came soon enough. For obvious reasons, Andy was made fun of. One of the major perpetrators of his bullying was Chad Thunco, one of the star members of the school skiing team. To keep Chad’s ‘good image’, the bullying was for the most part private. After all, Chad wants to get a good sports scholarship. But this one occasion was very much public, as it was during lunchtime. Andy was merely walking in line when Chad bumped into him.

“Out of my way femboy!” Chad muttered, knowing full well that it was technically him being in the way.

“What the hell is your problem, prick!” Andy yelled back, frustrated with all the crap Chad has been giving him.

“Sorry, I only care about real men, not a fake like you!”

“Okay rear end in a top hat, first, what you just said sounded gayer than me,” some cries of “Ohh!” and “Oh poo poo!” Can be heard from those listening close by. Andy continued, “and second of all, I’m just as much of a man as you!”

“Oh yeah, prove it! I’ve seen your lame excuse for a sled! Take it and try to survive The Kettle!” Some of those close by seemed shocked. After all, rumor had it that at least one person died while riding The Kettle.

“Name a date, rear end in a top hat!” Andy responded. He heard of The Kettle, but never rode it. If it could shut this prick up though, then he was up for anything.

“This Saturday if you have the balls! Oh, wait. You don’t!” Some laughter could be heard close by.

“I got more than you, prick!” Andy yells. Afterwards, he walks away.


After school, Andy met with his best friend, Jamie Keller. Jamie was friends with Andy from even when he was Ann. In fact, it was Jamie he told first when he came out as transgender. They have been friends all this time, but recently it started to show signs of being something more. Andy told Jamie of Chad’s challenge.

“And you accepted it, just like that?” Jamie says, with a tone of worry in her voice.

“Yeah, I wanted to shut his face up.”

“I want to, as well, but The Kettle?”

“Chad knew I could sled, so I guess he figured this would ‘prove’ that I’m a man.”

“But you’re already a man! At least…to me.”

“Don’t worry. If anything, consider it… the last part of my transition” They both laughed. It was the kind of laugh that was mixed with worry.


Saturday came, and Andy came with his sled along with Jamie. They saw Chad with his friends around.

“Oh, lookie here! Two girls enjoying the Aspen winter!” Chad snarked. His friends laughed at the remark. “And here I thought you physically didn’t have it in you!”

“Shut up and show me to The Kettle!” Andy yelled, clearly having enough of Chad’s bullying. Chad brought them to an area in the woods where there was yellow tape saying, ‘DANGER: DO NOT ENTER’.

“Just past here is the kettle, ladies!” Chad snarked. Andy looks at the road ahead. It didn’t look that bad but looks can be deceiving. Andy pulled off the tape so he could get a running start. While running, Andy yelled with the ferocity of a man running into battle.

Andy’s ride started well enough; he was going at a fast pace. Soon there were turns that increased in difficulty. Andy knew how to handle these turns. After all, how else would he be considered a man in Colorado? Sooner still there were violent turns that would be harmful to amateur sledders. But Andy was no amateur. As soon as the turns end, Andy zoomed into an igloo like figure. When he entered it, a high-pitched screech could be heard outside of where Andy was.

So that’s why it’s called The Kettle! Andy thought. Inside he saw some corpses that obviously died from the impact of the landing, as there were signs of massive head injuries, no helmets to be found. Andy figured two things. One, said injuries were fatal, and two, said injuries were because they were not wearing helmets. Andy was obviously wearing one since he’s not an idiot.

Outside, Chad and Jamie looked on where they could. There were some parts where they could see Andy racing, while there were parts where he could not be seen. Chad was amazed that Andy was quite the skilled sledder. To be fair, he never saw Andy sled before, he just knew he had one. When they heard the screech, they both went silent. It was rumored that the screech of The Kettle was the sound of death. After they heard the screech, Jamie wept, while Chad took off his snowcap and placed it on his heart. Chad was a skier, not a sledder, so while he heard of The Kettle, he didn’t believe that the deaths from it were real.

“Can’t believe that son of a bitch is dead!” Chad cried. He did not notice that there was someone behind him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” It was Andy. He had left the ‘igloo’ and went back up to the top.
“How in the hell…?” Chad exclaimed. Andy told Chad and Jamie of the Igloo-like structure at the end of The Kettle, how there was something that caused the screech when entering, and of the corpses he found. Chad and Jamie were amazed by what they were told.

“Well, I’ll be. I guess you’re a man after all!” Exclaimed Chad. Afterwards, Andy went to the police and told them of the corpses he found. Chad told everyone he could about Andy’s run on The Kettle. The news helped assured for Andy that, at least in Aspen, there was no doubt that Andy was a man.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Well, tie does rhyme with die. And today is a good day to die.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


headmaster of a school for assassins finds themselves called back in for one last job

Never Grow Old
1199 Words

When traveling to the Kingdom of Azoria, if you ask the owner of the cheese shop about ‘the call of the raven’, they will take you to a place known to few and seen by fewer. Deep down in the depths of the Kingdom is an institution known as the Raven’s Call, an area where brave men and women are trained in the arts of assassination. While they live in Azoria, they are loyal to no Crown. The founder and current head is a man by the name of Sean Dalton, who at one time was known as The Raven. His days of assassination have long been gone, so he started the organization to train the assassins of tomorrow, giving them tasks that others bring to him for the right price.

One day, Sean was in the chamber where he usually meets with his top assassins, when he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in years.

“Hello, Sean.”

While the voice obviously withered with age, it reminded Sean of a choice he made long ago. While he doesn’t regret his choice, he always wondered what could have been. The voice belonged to the choice he didn’t make.

“Rebecca,” said Sean. It has been years since he had seen her last. “How long has it been?”

“Too drat long,” said Rebecca. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I grew old,” mused Sean. Sure, it happens to everyone, but that doesn’t stop from making it more painful. “Cut to the chase, lass. I doubt you wanted to simply reminisce of our time at The Order.”

Rebecca placed a calm hand on Sean’s shoulder. “It’s Maxie. Turns out he betrayed The Order.” Maxwell Shaw was a friend of Sean and Rebecca. They all served the Royal Order of Assassins in the Kingdom of Alar. But their King’s paranoia got the best of him, and The Order had to disband, but not necessarily by choice. Many of The Order were killed, including the one who trained them, the previous Raven. It was at this moment that Sean learned not to be bound by King and Country.

Rebecca continued on, she investigated why the king of Alar grew paranoid, and her investigation led to Maxwell. It was he that instilled a sense of fear into the King.

“And that’s not all,” Rebecca added. “There’s a new King in Alar, and it’s Maxie.” Turns out later, Maxwell killed the King and became King himself, even though there was an heir. “I decided to turn to the only one who could help me.”

Sean was appalled at what he heard. Maxwell was considered a true friend! And he would have the gall to kill the King of Alar, after convincing him that The Order cannot be trusted? The balls of this man! Rebecca asked if he was going to send one of his students to take care of Maxwell.

“No. You know as drat well as I do, if anyone is going to finish this, it has to be me.” Rebecca smiles. Sean wrote a note to his students, and then he and Rebecca flew giant ravens to Alar.

Alar was a ways away from Azoria, and while the advent of flight made travel much faster, it was still a ways to their destination. While they were traveling, Sean and Rebecca discussed their plan. During Rebecca’s investigation, she found out that the rightful heir to the Alaran throne still lived. She would find him, help him gather an army and storm Alar castle. Meanwhile, in the chaos, Sean would confront Maxwell, and kill him. The plan seemed quite simple on paper, but paper can only tell so much. It was action that told the rest. When they finally reached Alar, they went to the place that, according to Rebecca, the heir still lived.
They landed their ravens near an old, shackled cottage. Entering they asked if anyone was there, and an old voice was heard.
“Who’s there? In the name of the rightful king, show yourself!” An old man in royal Alaran uniform comes out, sword in hand. It was one that Sean and Rebecca knew quite well.

“Hello Gus,” said Sean. Gus rubs his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he could see.

“Well, I’ll be! Sean! Rebecca!” Gus was a member of the Alaran Royal Guard, who answered only to the King. What the Order did in private, the Royal Guard did in public. Gus gestured to a table and told his guests to sit down. Sean and Rebecca told why they were here, and Gus told them of what was happening in Alar as of late.

“Things have gotten much worse under King Maxwell. A bloody tyrant he is!” Gus explained further, mentioning how Maxwell being a ‘bloody tyrant’ was both figurative and very literal. The people suffered under his rule, and cried for freedom. Sean asks if anything is being done about that.

“Funny you should mention that,” said Gus. “Follow me!” Gus took them to a secret passage under the cottage. Inside, there were many soldiers doing drills of all kinds. “Welcome to the Revolution!” said Gus. He took Sean and Rebecca further down to a room similar to the meeting room at the Call. It was there that a man that appeared to be in his thirties was sitting. When they came to this man, Gus kneeled down.

“Welcome, friends! I am Prince Felippe.” He was the heir that Rebecca mentioned! When hearing Felippe speak, it was clear that he was the rightful king. Sean and Rebecca told Felippe of their history with the current King, and their plan to take care of him. “Well then,” said Felippe, “I suppose the time has finally come!” Felippe explained that they were looking for an opportunity to strike the castle, and Sean and Rebecca provided them one. Felippe gathered his army, and they discussed their plans, which were carried out the next day.

When the day finally came, Rebecca and the Revolutionary army marched towards the castle, while Sean sneaked inside. He remembered the ins and outs of the castle and was able to reach the throne room quite quickly. Before he went there, however, he waited until there were sounds of an uprising to be heard. When the sounds came, Sean raced to the throne room. He entered it to see that no one was there. Sean then felt a gun on his head.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up, ‘old friend’.” It was Maxwell. He explained how he knew that Sean would eventually come for him. Sean asked why he betrayed The Order. “Power, of course! What else?” Sean knew he was hiding something, but didn’t know what, nor did he care. Quickly, Sean stood up, with a gun of his own. “Well?” Said Maxwell. “What are you waiting for?” They both fired their guns.

Afterwards, the Revolutionary Army stormed the throne room. They cheered after seeing Maxwell dead, but the cheers faded after seeing Sean hobbling away, obviously hurt. Sean headed toward Felippe, and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Word of advice, your majesty. Never grow old.”

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


…You know what, screw it. In.

Could you please give me a certain relationship (like lovers, for example?)

Also, :toxx: to send a draft to Sitting Here by Saturday.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


The members of your relationship are college students in rival fraternities/sororities who have to plan a holiday party together for the entire greek community

Of Babes and Brahs
932 Words

Madison ‘Maddie’ Winston looked at a magazine article about New Athens University’s programs and saw how it was mentioned that the sororities and fraternities there were ‘home of New Athens’ finest students’. What a load of crap. She thought. Sure, her sorority, Zeta Eta Theta, are full of great people, but they were all ‘fine students’ who knew how to skank. And she considered them some of the closest friends she’s ever had! Then again, she could always have pride that while ‘the Etas’ have faults, those idiotic slobs at Xi Pi Chi were much worse. Especially misogynistic assholes like Jake Chauvin.

Jake also saw the article and thought it was bull, as well. Sure, the guys over at Xi Pi Chi were basically his brothers, but they acted like complete dumbasses. Sure, the fact that they were even in the fraternity showed that they were smart, but they all knew that sometimes, you just got to be a dumbass. At least in Jake’s eyes, ‘the ZPs’ were better than those Eta bimbos. Especially skanks like Maddie Winston.

One day, the New Athens Student News Program (NASNP) aired a special announcement from Jimmy Greek, the head of all the Greek Societies on campus.

“Alright, brahs and babes! As many of you may know, here in New Athens, we respect tradition. So, I along with the other heads of the sororities and fraternities thought, ‘Dude! How about we start a tradition of our own!’ And they were all, ‘yah, brah!’ So, we decided to have a big old party to celebrate New Athens’ Greek Community, you know? And we also decided by random drawing that it will be headed up by Zeta Eta Theta and Xi Pi Chi! Alright, peace!”

When they heard the announcement, both Maddie and Jake had the same thought.

What. The. Hell?

The night before the party came, and both the Etas and the ZPs were there. There were divisive plans on what to do for the party. The Etas wanted it to be a more traditional gala, while the ZPs wanted to hold certain events.

“I really hate to ask, but what kind of events?” asked Maddie.

“For example, I watched a Bills fan put ketchup on his burger, and that gave me an idea!” Jake replied. He mentioned a guy who was sprayed with ketchup and mustard by multiple people just so he could have it on his burger. Maddie gave a mixed look of surprise and disgust. This was the kind of dumb poo poo she expected from the ZPs!

“We are not loving doing that.” Maddie wanted the party to be like some kind of Gala, while in her eyes, Jake wanted it to be some frat boy fantasy.

“Oh, come on! Don’t you Etas like to have fun?”

“It seems we Etas and you ZPs have different definitions of ‘fun’.” Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey brahs, how’s it hanging?” Jimmy Greek entered while the meeting was going on. Jake and Maddie each tell them their vision of the party. “Well you know what they say, ‘why not both, dude!’”

“Like hell!” Jake and Maddie simultaneously say at the same time.

“Hey brahs, this is a party celebrating all of Greek life!” Jimmy mentioned. “Sorority class, Fraternity dumb poo poo, it’s all pretty sweet, man! The way I see it, if we can’t have some of both, are we truly Greek?” Jake and Maddie seemed surprised at how wise Jimmy sounded. There is silence. After a little while, Maddie breaks it.

“We’ll think about it.”

“Alright, brahs! See you at the party!” After Jimmy leaves, Jake and Maddie stare at each other. Both knew what needed to be done. Again, Maddie breaks the silence.

“As much as I hate to admit it, he is right. Truce?” Maddie takes out her hand.

“Truce,” Jake says, taking out his hand to shake Maddie’s. “Besides, maybe we ZPs should have some ‘class’.”

“And perhaps we Etas can afford to be dumbasses once in a while.” After Maddie said that, they both had a laugh.

The night of the party came and everyone had a good time. Everyone donned Togas and while some danced the night away, others participated in tomfoolery. To everyone’s surprise, there were both sorority and fraternity members participating in both and enjoying it. Jake and Maddie were of course also there, and they were having a good time. And isn’t that what ‘parties’ are all about?

“You know what, I’m actually having a great time.” Maddie told Jake. Jake agreed with her. Curious, Maddie asked about that burger thing Jake mentioned. Jake pointed it out and pulled out some science safety goggles.

“You’re gonna need these.” Maddie seemed quite nervous by his words, but Jake gets a burger and some patties as well. “I’ll come with you. I’m getting kinda hungry as well.” Maddie obliged. They head over to the area, already covered in ketchup and mustard. “Excuse me, but we would like some KETCHUP!”

“KETCHUP! KETCHUP!” Everyone around them chanted repeatedly. Suddenly, multiple people above them squirted multiple ketchup bottles on Jake and Maddie, the two of them moving so that they at least hit their burger.

“We would also like some MUSTARD PLEASE!” Jake yells, as they repeat the process but with mustard instead. After it was all said and done, Jake and Maddie were both a mess of red and yellow. And they loved it. While many have a baptism by fire, this was a baptism by condiments, and both Jake and Maddie wanted more of it in the future.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


…I think even I could make something like this work. In. Flash me.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Dreams Deferred, Dreams made
1048 Words

You know, I remember the American Dream.

When I was a young lad, I learned about the ‘formula’ to be successful in America. A nice house, a nice car, food on the table. Back in my day, it was barely obtainable. You didn’t have to die to be free. Back then, folks wanted the government to fix everything. They didn’t realize that making things worse payed those in power better. Back then, a person could have actual meat, and not have to literally eat their fellow man.

About a week ago, I walked in the field to plant some wheat. That’s what old folks like me do nowadays in the ruins of Chicago. After all, got to keep the meat lean. While I cut the wheat with my scythe, I noticed a pickup chasing a young boy. This happens quite often, but not like this. The boy ran into my field, and his would-be captors got off their pickup and followed on foot. I sneaked by and put my scythe around one of their necks.

“May I help you gentlemen?” I asked. They seemed scared. Good.

“We’re here to get our quarry!”

“Really, now? Your kind don’t usually hunt boys!” They usually hunted young men and women, but not that young.

“The client specifically asked for him!” They started to attack. While my movement wasn’t what it used to be, I was able to quickly fight off them. I wield my scythe against them, and they try to fight back, but they were not skilled in hand to hand combat. To be fair, I wasn’t either, but I knew how to use a scythe. I cut them as cleanly as I cut my wheat.

“Thanks, mister!” said the boy. He looked like he was about ten years old. Something was up.

“Apologies for asking, but why were those guys really after you?” The boy seemed scared.

“Let me stay around for tonight, and I can show you through dinner.” he said. I brought them inside my home. After talking for a while, the boy presented me with what appeared to be a hamburger. Impossible, I thought. I thought cattle were extinct! I took a bite. Sure enough, it tasted like a hamburger.

“How the hell did you get some beef?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” the boy said. “It’s made from plants!” That explains it. I remember hearing about plant based meats from long ago, but I thought that such a thing was a lost art form. The wealthy’s craving for meat was far too great for something like that to stick. He must have kept the tradition.

“What other kinds of ‘meats’ can you make?” I asked.

“Oh, lots of stuff! Cherry Based Venison, Strawberry Based Ham, Kiwi Based steak…” he then showed me some papers he was holding. “This should mention just about everything.” He spoke. I looked at the papers and was amazed at what I saw. It was as if I was looking at an animal farm and a vegetable one at the same time! There was one thing I wondered, that scared me a little.

“Won’t you need some fancy cooking equipment to make this kind of stuff?”

“Nothing too far advanced.” He said. “I was able to make this wheat hamburger with the stuff you have, right?” He had me there. I had stuff to make a good meal, but nothing too fancy.

“Well, with this kind of thing, you might want to present it to smaller communities such as New Chicago.” I mentioned. I figured the higher ups at bigger cities might kill him. Not for the recipe, but because they got rich from all the cannibalism, and they may not want to give that up so easily. He agreed, and I told them how to get to New Chicago. I offered to come along in case there were some more folks like those riding that pickup. He agreed. “By the way,” I asked. “I haven’t gotten your name yet, and I figured you don’t want to be called ‘boy’.”

“The name’s Jimmy.” he replied.

“You can call me Al.” I said. Afterwards, we searched the bodies earlier for the keys to the pickup and headed to New Chicago. Since I regularly go there to sell my goods, I knew the quickest way there.They asked me a rhetorical question about “eating the rich”. I told them that I already had some rich, and they tasted like poo poo. (Bad joke, I know.)

When we got there, we stopped by the local church. I introduced Jimmy to the preacher, Reverend Lou. He told Lou about their recipes, and as soon as he told him, Lou dropped to the floor with a horrified look on his face.

“Excuse me a moment… I need to wash my hands…” Lou said, as he runs toward the opposite direction of the restroom. Wondering what was going on, we followed him. Turns out he was on his knees at the sanctuary altar. “Forgive me father! There is blood on my hands! There is blood on my hands!” Lou cried. Honestly, I wouldn't blame the man. He, like many others, thought they had no choice but to kill their fellow man for nourishment. The mere fact that he didn’t have to absolutely broke him.

Since the next day was a Sunday, we went to service that morning. Lou told his congregation about Jimmy and Joe, and what they had to offer. He then called everyone to prayer, because they have done, as Lou called it, an unforgivable sin. Soon after, there was silence. The silence was eventually broken by someone singing.

“Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound! That saved a wretch, like me! I once was lost! But now am found! Was blind, but now I see!” As they continued to sing, I honestly saw the regret everyone had over what was done. From what I saw, things were on the road to getting better.

Afterwards, Lou offered to take in Jimmy and Joe. I offered to help protect the folks, since the meat companies would be after Jimmy , and their lives may be in danger. All that happened made me realize something.

I remembered the American Dream.

And while the details may have changed slightly, I still believe it to be real.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009



Give me a bizarre one.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Nae posted:

Eggs. Eggs! This bird loves eggs, loves them so much. But some of the eggs are broken?!

Not Beyond Turduckendome
599 Words

Once, there was a chicken named Clark Cluckson. Clark didn’t think like the other chicken in his class, but he was treated like a regular chicken being because chickens are not pricks. After graduating from Cluck University, Clark had no idea what to do with his life and he was bored. He heard about an animal writing contest called “Turduckendome”, a weekly writing competition for poultry birds such as himself. For years, he noticed their stories, and wondered what it would be like to enter something like that. Thinking that he could at least practice writing that way, Clark eventually entered the Turduckendome.
When he entered, he was amazed to see more animals than his fellow poultry! He also saw animals such as horses, crabs, and even black cats! Clark asked around and found out that despite what the name suggests, it was open to all animals, even humans! So, Clark went and competed. And he learned a few things that had nothing to do with grammar. For example:

Crabs and horses are jerks.

Crabs and horses were also able to write, and write well.

Don’t take the topic too seriously.

And perhaps the most surprising, it’s okay to lose.

Though he was not a fish, he seemed like a small fish in a big ocean. There were many animals that were talented writers! Some of them even wrote novels! Nonetheless, Clark would try his hand in writing. At first, he did okay. But week after week, he would lose.


And again.

And again.

The last lesson Clark learned was perhaps the most bizarre of them all. He was taught all his life that being considered a loser is a “bad thing”. After all, winning is better than losing, and losers deserve to get fed to the humans. But, things were different at the Turduckendome. The animals there actually tried to help Clark out. Some of them truly didn’t even mind that Clark was a “loser”. Clark’s stories had many, many problems, and they went through most, if not all of them.

Through the stories Clark made, he learned much about writing and himself. While his mind made it difficult to truly take those lessons to heart, he tried to learn from them anyway. While there were weeks that he honestly should not have entered, there were also weeks where he did not regret entering, even though he lost. There was one week where he even judged a Turduckendome!

One week, considering the prompt that was given, Clark decided to write a story involving Chickenphremia, a serious mental condition found in many chickens. The character in his work would do horrible things. Looking for inspiration, Clark would ask if any previous Turduckendome stories had tackled Chickenphremia. Those he asked were shocked that he would do so! There were many who wrote for a long time, and even they wouldn’t write about Chickenphremia, or their species equivalent! Seeing how that was a horrible idea, Clark went back to the drawing, or in this case writing, board.

When wondering what he would do instead, Clark decided on doing something simpler, since the prompt was asking for simple. He decided to tell his Turduckendome story, with the names and species changed. Thinking about it, he was grateful for all the help he had received in the Turduckendome, even though he was a “loser”. While he did not necessarily write to win, he at least wanted to show how grateful he was for the folks there. While there have been struggles with them, he can honestly say that they are good animals.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Yeah, I think I’ll judge this week.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


M crits!

Rodent on Discord posted:

Haha weird week for M to judge.
He needs to be able to crit some normal-rear end stories with characters and motivations and he gets our most avant-garde bullshit.
Mission Accepted, sir!

Note: Been reading some Big Sleep recently, so I decided to read them all out loud in my “hardboiled detective” voice.

Albatrossy_Rodent-Jesus in the wilderness
This one got me thinking. No, not stuff like “what the hell is this?” Or “what a crap story”, but the good kind of thinking. And the kind of stories that gets a man thinking are some of the good ones.

Staggy- The Name of the Island
This one also got me thinking the same way. It seemed like an old legend passed on by an indigenous people. This makes me wonder if the old kinds of stories are your forte.

This is a bizarre one, but in a good way. It has the incoherentness of a stoner’s story, yet it seems rather coherent? A confusing opposition of contrasts.

Antivehicular-The Oblate Job
I must admit, I was a little confused with this story. Why were Jake and Mason there? Are they working for or against the Church? What info that was given did not help. Also, It wanted to do more than the word count can allow.

Chairchucker-How About Wizard in Chief?
Other than the “Racism and Sexism are bad” angle, I was rather confused. Why should we care about these characters? I know it’s flash fiction, but we should be given a reason to care! Still better than the one you posted when I last judged.

Looking at this, it seems like a story I wouldn’t like, and yet I did. You put the pieces together in your puzzle and made a picture that was, while hideous, rather complete.

It was a good story, but it had one glaring problem. Remember When Flerp said your story didn’t have to be a poem? Crap like this is why. The end point was enjoyable, but it seemed to go on and on and on! I honestly think it would’ve worked better as a story, and a much shorter one at that! Plus, you’re just retelling the story of Saint Christopher!

Overall, I noticed that most of the authors had an interpretation of the poem similar to what I did. Criticism of the Catholic Church. Flerp didn’t see it that way, but okay.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Since I was a dissapointed that a loser other than me did not show last week, I shall judge again this week.

I do fully intend to write for week 500, however.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


BabyRyoga posted:

In, and give me a conflict!

Two guys in love with the same woman (or vice versa).

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


sparksbloom posted:

In. assign me something!

How shall spending be handled?

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


I am fully ready to lose for multiple times in one week. in.
Edit: What’s in the box??

The man called M fucked around with this message at 01:40 on Mar 1, 2022

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


M Crits: Week 499

The Cut of Your Jib-The Hard Sell
Hard sell is right! This seems so mundane I almost wondered where the conflict was! It was merely okay, nothing special.

Chairchucker-Backseat Trolley Problem
HoLy CrAp ArE YoU aUsTrAlIaN???? This was actually quite entertaining! I loved how things escalated, yet each time they had the same problem. A nice funny romp, that shows that a Thunderdome story doesn’t have to be serious and grim dark.

Funny how a prompt like this could turn into a serious story about family. There were like one or two grammatical problems, but since it’s not me, I can let it slide.

Rohan-Not Quite Hot Noodles
Rather bizarre approach here. You ask for something petty, and give us some weird science fiction. Not really my cup of tea.

Babyryouga-Three’s a Crowd
Not really working for me. I was expecting romantic triangle stuff, not whatever the hell this is! This one gets a meh from me.

Thranguy-Dangerous Criminals
If you’re going to have criminals plan the crime, have the crime, as well! This was difficult to engage with, and also dull.

Bad Seafood-A Tale of Two Toasters
This I liked. It’s a good “dumb stuff among roommates” story. Kinda simple, but here, simple works. Well done.

As for this week...Hope to have something tonight. :ninja:

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Sitting Here posted:

:siren: :siren: This is the first story in the story chain. Who will write the first sequel? What crazy branching timelines will you drag the judges through??? :siren: :siren: :siren:

Written by Crabrock.

WEEK 500DRED Prologue
500 words

“Might wanna stand back,” said the old man I’d contacted on Craigslist.

He opened his garage door and a few obsolete chaos generators tumbled out onto the driveway. He kicked them to the side and pulled out the reason I’d contacted him: the RealitySmasher500. They only made three prototypes before it was deemed too powerful. It’d taken me nearly ten years to track this one down.

A few pieces fell off the device, which resembled a giant french horn with a lot of knobs and superfluous circuitry.

“I was on mushrooms when I designed this thing.” He picked up a loose circuit board, scratched his head, and shrugged. “You know it won’t work without a gem, right?”

I nodded. “I found another seller in Milwaukee with a whole box of gems.” Mostly gems, anyway. I hadn’t bothered to sort the random garage junk from the useful stuff yet.

The old man smiled ruefully. “I’ve only tested it with quartz. No idea what’ll happen if you put something less stable in it—like hackmanite or, god forbid, icosahedrite—so I’d strongly advise against it.”

I peered into his garage, saw several items I’d have liked to get my hands on. Maybe later.

I drove the RealitySmasher500 back to the lab. A few hours of scrubbing and the device shone like new…ish. The superfluous circuitry was hard to clean.

Dave, my assistant, walked in eating an apple. “Hey Dr. Cindy, want one?” he asked with his mouth full.

I accepted the apple. “Anybody call while I was out?” I asked hopefully.

“Sorry, doc. Still nothing.”

Dammit. That call was too important. I wouldn’t be able to focus until it came. I occupied myself by explaining the different functions of the RealitySmasher500 to Dave.

“And this,” I said, “ is the time-scale dial. Determines where the alternate timeline branch is created.”

“So if I spin it far enough to the left, I can gently caress with some dinosaurs?”

“Let’s not just yet.” I walked him through some of the other knobs. “This one affects the fundamental laws of physics, this one reverses polarity.”

“Of what?”

“Of everything.”

“Huh!” he said. “But not for us, right? Just for some other timeline.”

I shrugged. “It’s all the same, really. Each new timeline contains a complete copy of the timeline it branched off from. So let’s leave this one set to default, for the sake of our other selves,” I said. I looked at my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed any calls. Nothing.

Dave was saying, “And this only takes crystals, right? So if I took your uneaten apple and put it in this receptacle here…then push that button there…nothing’ll happen, right?”

Distracted, I didn’t register Dave’s question until I looked up, saw my apple in the gem slot and Dave’s finger depressing the big red BISECT TIMELINE button.

“You idiot, what did you do!?” I cried, every hair on my body standing on end.

Just as the room filled with bright light, the phone began to ring.

Welcome to M World
(319 Words)


I woke up after what seemed to be a while. When I got out of the garage, I noticed something rather strange. I saw someone walking by, so I asked them a question.

“Excuse me, where am I?”

“I believe, miss, the question is when am I. And the answer is, ‘The hell if I know’.”

This puzzled me. How the hell does one not know when they exist? Confused, I walked by a storefront (that in my opinion was far too conveniently placed) and saw one store that had a bunch of TVs.

What images I saw on the TVs were quite troubling.

A news report of a new law being passed enforcing cannibalism.

A report on hobos having Christmas, even though it was March.

Musical pundits arguing about who did the best version of, “Little Red Corvette”, even though there was only the Prince version.

The images on the TVs seemed quite odd, yet for some reason, they all seemed so real.

And perhaps most troubling of all, a shot of a pregnancy ward where all the women gave birth to dinosaurs.

Oh God, I thought. Even my thoughts are going out of order! Horrified, I ran back to where I thought the garage was. In the kind of convenience one finds in bad literature, I find it almost immediately. I saw the Old Man and Dave looking at me, confused.

“Professor,” Dave asks. “Where the hell are we?”

At first, I didn’t know. But then everything came together. This world seemed like it was out of a bad story because it was. I knew that if it was a world where bad writing was king, I should give it a name to fit. I knew just the one.

“Gentlemen,” I said. “Welcome to M world. I hope we survive the Experience.”

The effects of the world were so bad, I even forgot about the phone.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


If you are looking at this and are thinking, “hey! This seems familiar!” That’s because it is. I previously did crits for week 499, but it lacked detail.

Now, normally one would just let it slide and strive to do better next time. But I have been considering doing work as a local Theatre Critic, and this kind of rubbish is unacceptable. Besides who looks at this:

“That was alright” *laugh track*

And realizes what they need to do better? So, without further ado,

M Crits: Week 499 (the good (?) version)

Cut Of Your Jib-The Hard Sell

This one seemed rather honest. While there wasn’t enough to have an emotional connection, there was enough that at least I wanted to see how things went. There were some lines that came out of nowhere that made me wonder why it was there in the first place. (The line about being called Gloria comes to mind.)

Chairchucker-Backstreet Trolley Problem

This story is Australian as gently caress.

“I take offense to that”-some guy named gently caress

Anyway, this one I liked because it was basically a nice comedy of errors. It basically showed how the more things change the more they stay the same without showing long periods of time. Just nice and entertaining. At first, I actually penned this as the winner. Let’s see if my feelings change this time.


Oof. This one hurts. Fortunately, it hurts in a good way. A nice emotional tale about two brothers. It seemed like things got resolved far too quickly, but then again, “That’s Flash Fiction!” *Laugh Track*

Rohan-Not Quite Hot Noodles

Yeah, this didn’t work for me. I know there are some that look at stuff and think, “Can it Science Fiction?” Sometimes it works! Just look at that one Bad Prompt Week a few weeks back! This one…didn’t. It had me wondering, “why should I care?” And if you are writing any kind of fiction, that is not something you want your reader to ask!

BabyRyouga- Three’s a crowd

Where’s the conflict? There’s supposed to be a conflict! Here it seems like a bunch of stoners shooting the poo poo! When I gave you that prompt, I expected some love triangle stuff! (Sure, it’s cliché as all hell, but sometimes clichés are not necessarily bad!) As a guy and two robots once said, “They just. Didn’t. Care.” Plus, there was a quotation mark that didn’t belong, and even I wouldn’t have missed that! Yeah, this deserved the loss.

Thranguy-Dangerous Criminals

This one had the same problem Jib’s story had where there isn’t enough to have an emotional attachment, but there’s enough to at least keep things interesting. Barely. It worked, but it was the bare minimum to get folks to pay attention. The bare minimum doesn't always work.

Bad Seafood-A Tale of Two Toasters

Yeah, I could see why this one won. There were parts I liked where it seemed like some parts were more suited for high fantasy, even though it was some guy’s appartment. This showed some real characters, and unlike many of the stories here, it was interesting enough for people to care.

Overall, I’ve heard it said that I need to judge some stories with some real characters. Mission Accomplished.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009



I'd like some pasta.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Pasta Carbonara
To Die For
1029 Words

Y’know, we Italians take our food very loving seriously.

You know how pizza places here in New York are all named after people? That’s because all the good places are family owned. They take their pizza and truly make it their own. They want you to know that this isn’t some run of the mill pizza place that sells something that no reasonable person would call a pizza. No, this is their pizza. That they made. People have literally died over pizza here. If you see how we take our pizza seriously, let me tell you a story about what went down with the best pasta carbonara in town!

I was over at Paulie Gio’s, the place I usually go to, one day and had their Carbonara. Which is so good, some people consider it one of those afrodesiac things! One bite from it, and you feel like you’re ready to, hell, it’s like you are having sex! Naturally, New Yorkers from Queens would come and have a bite of their dishes here, especially of their carbonara! Anyway, back to the subject at hand, I was having the time of my life, when I noticed some of Joey Ziti’s thugs come in. The carbonara was so good, I was honestly surprised I noticed!

“Good evening! May I please see the owner of the establishment?” One of the thugs asked. The worker heads to the back. Soon after, Paulie Giorgio, the owner, comes out.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” Paulie asked. This place was protected by Don Basco, who I worked for. The Carbonara wasn’t necessarily the reason why, but I considered it an “added benefit”. It was a little odd to see some of Ziti’s guys there. I should’ve been more careful.

“Don Ziti would like to order some take out,” one of the thugs said. “He would go himself, but he doesn't want to risk infection in these turbulent times.”

“Now, I know that you guys and the Bascos…don’t get along,” said Paulie, putting things very lightly. “But I am not the kind of schmuck to turn down a customer, rival or not.” He took their order, and started to head to the kitchen.

“Now hold on a moment,” said the thug from before. “Me and my colleague would like to take a little tour of your kitchen facilities.” Paulie, obviously nervous, obliged and took them to the back. Figuring something wasn’t right, I went after them.

They had their little tour, while I stayed close enough so I could see what was going on, while far enough so that I didn’t get their attention. For the most part, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but I noticed that at one point before they moved on with their tour, it appeared that one of the thugs opened a door and quickly closed it. Curious, I went to the area with the supposed door. When I opened it (it was sort of a secret compartment) I faintly heard some clucking. Being the idiot I was back then, I paid it no mind. Little did I know that I would regret it immensely later. The rest of the tour went without a hitch, so the thugs went home.

The next day, as soon as I got up, I had a phone call.

Where the gently caress are you, you son of a bitch?!” It was Paulie. poo poo, I thought. So I quickly went over to Paulie Gio’s. When I got there the place was empty, so I went to the kitchen. The secret door was wide open, with a letter stuck on the door with tape.

“Enjoy yourself a good chicken dinner, on me-Joey Ziti”

Puzzled by what Ziti’s letter meant, I hurried through the door. It led to a large stairway deep enough that I could barely hear what was going on in the restaurant. When I got to the bottom, I had to walk a little bit before seeing what appeared to be a chicken pen, along with a bunch of dead chickens. This must be Ziti’s “Chicken Dinner”. Close by, I could see Paulie with his wife, crying. Soon after, Paulie turned to me.

Your people were supposed to protect our business, you son of a bitch!”

“Now, Paulie, look here. How the hell are we supposed to protect something that we weren’t told about?”

drat! drat my paranoia! drat your Don! drat Ziti! drat you all!!” Paulie then fell on the floor crying. I offered to take care of the sons of bitches that did this, while I told Paulie to tell my associates about this, so that something like this never happens again.

Remembering what Ziti’s associates from yesterday looked like, I asked around town about them. They were some lowlife thugs that were high enough on the Ziti ladder that they weren’t just your regular goon, but low enough that they answered to more people than just Ziti. When I found out their location, I went over there. Being a fan of gallows humor, I brought along a flamethrower I stole from an Army base a while back.

I went to their location, flamethrower in tow, and knocked on the door. Sure enough, one of the thugs from yesterday opened the door.

“Did anyone order some Baked Ziti?”

“Oh, Fu-!” Due to me burning him to a crisp, he didn’t finish his sentence. I burned the whole place down for good measure.

Afterwards, Paulie Gio’s had to shut down for a few weeks. Don Basco berated both me and Paulie for what happened. Paulie for not telling him about his chicken pen, and me for not taking care of things sooner. Later on, I would get demoted (While I was lucky, my pride took a hit), while Don Basco donated some more hens for the Giorgio family, free of charge. He also had some guys set up some extra security for the pen, so Paulie’s Chickens can lay their eggs without fear. After all, the eggs are needed for the Carbonara.

Yeah, we Italians take our food very loving seriously.

Is it the kind of food to die for? Definitely. Figuratively and literally.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


This sounds extremely dumb.

In. Snippet please.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


I Love My Dinosaur Son
865 Words

“In National News, as a thank you for ending the Covid Crisis, President Biden has given fifty billion dollars each to a select number of scientists. When asked what the money was for, the President responded it was so that they could do, ‘whatever the *beep* they want’. Turn in at 11 to see what the chosen scientists plan to do with the money…”

One year later…

While I was walking today, I saw that the New York Times had an interesting article.

“‘This was a horrible Idea.’-President Biden”

Yeah, no poo poo, I thought. Sure, I am grateful to them since it was thanks to those scientists we had a son, but that said son was a Velociraptor! Apparently (Since history changed, so I don’t remember it happening), me and my barren wife Nancy signed up to have somebody time travel and give my wife Dinosaur DNA in the past. This brought about Kyle, our Velociraptor son. I know that we weren’t the only ones who signed up for this, but it still seemed so weird and surreal.

While Kyle was obviously different, me and Nancy treated him like a regular human being, and we were surprised that he was able to speak just as well as any other human. Sure, he was different, but dammit, he was our son. When Kyle reached school age, we were at first afraid that he wouldn’t fit in because, well, dinosaur, but after seeing that there were other dinosaur children, we let Kyle go to school. While Nancy and I had our fears, Kyle was able to make friends, dinosaur and human.

Now, Nancy and I did our research, and we both knew that Velociraptors are meat-eaters. But Kyle had been very good about what to eat. Sure, he eats more than humans, but he ate “regular” meat. While many dino-children (including Kyle) did have some urges to eat man, for the most part, those urges were in check. When there have been reports of meat eater children eating people, the government decided to issue a policy where they can eat death row criminals to satisfy their urges. Kyle took advantage of this as well, and while he did enjoy it there, and it helped satisfy his urge for man, he told me that he didn’t like the taste of rapists.

After a while, Kyle managed to graduate from High School, and Nancy and I couldn’t be much prouder of him. Instead of going to college, Kyle decided to be part of an experimental platoon used by the Army. They would do the jobs no decent moral human would want to do. Obviously, we at first objected to it, but I remember even to this day what Kyle told me.

“Dad, I’ve been thinking, do we dinosaurs even have morals? Besides, we meat-eaters were born to be murderers. I need to do this, not for you, but for myself.”

That was what convinced me and Nancy to let him go join the “Raptor Division”. That was about three years ago today.

Present day, a year after Biden gave out all that money. While I was taking my walk, and wondering why Biden just wasted all that taxpayer money (even though it did give us Kyle), I saw our friend Bob being attacked by Raptor Division members. I even recognized some of them when I visited Kyle! While he was being attacked, he did manage to say some last words.

"God creates dinosaur. God destroys dinosaur. God creates man. Man creates dinosaur. Dinosaur Eats Man. Woman inherits the Earth. Dinosaur also eats woman. Dinosaur creates robot. Robot incinerates dinosaur. God accepts robot as his equal in heaven," said Bob. It was impressive that he managed to get so much out as the compsognathuses devoured his digestive system. Puzzled at what took place, I wondered what the hell was going on. So I asked one of them.

“This man has been a secret agent for the robots!”

Of course, I thought. I knew what was going on. While some of the scientists paid by Biden experimented in time trial and DNA, there were others who made killer robots. Robots who all had a mechanism in place so that they can’t go rogue. And then they all went rogue. There were some like Bob who sided with the robots, mostly because they believed that they could survive. Then there were those that knew better. Nancy and I knew better, and Kyle kept informing us on the army’s stance on it. He told me about how many human lives were lost when fighting the robots, and it was enough that he told us that President Biden was planning on deploying the Raptor Company anytime now.

“Does he consider dinosaur life expendable?” I asked Kyle.

“Maybe, but perhaps Biden is thinking that he started this mess, so now we are going to fix it.”

A few days later, the Raptor Division was deployed to fight the robots. Nancy and I were worried, so we went over to the local church. Sick with worry, I went down to their altar, and prayed.

“Lord, I love my dinosaur son. Please take care of him.”

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


This is my flash:

"God creates dinosaur. God destroys dinosaur. God creates man. Man creates dinosaur. Dinosaur Eats Man. Woman inherits the Earth. Dinosaur also eats woman. Dinosaur creates robot. Robot incinerates dinosaur. God accepts robot as his equal in heaven," said Bob. It was impressive that he managed to get so much out as the compsognathuses devoured his digestive system.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Got an interesting idea, so in.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Nae posted:


The “Great” Jewel Heist: A Jake Malone mystery
812 Words

Now, I’m not one to give out lengthy explanations, but Jane’s a gal that definitely deserved one.

The first time I met Jane Connor I wasn’t instantly smitten. She had the kind of look where you weren’t instantly attracted to her, but once you get to know her, you can’t stop thinking of her. She wasn’t the kind of type that could kill a man, but once she had eyes on you, you were hers for life.

I first met Jane about a week ago, at first I thought it was just a regular dame that met me in the office. Like most dame’s around here, she was trouble, I just didn’t know how much at the time. She sat down at the chair next to my desk, and spoke.

“You Jake Malone?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And who might you be?”

“Jane Connor, flash fiction writer by trade. You may have heard of my father?”

“Doctor Jackson Connor, the famous explorer?”

“That’s him. Anyway, he’s holding an exhibition in a few weeks for the ‘Bloody Alexandrite’.”

She told me that back in ancient times, Alexander The Great (after finding and naming the mineral, since he was the most humble of men) took a small piece of Alexandrite and dipped it in the blood of his enemies, giving it a reddish hue. I honestly thought it was just a legend.

“Here’s a photo of it,” she said. While it was obviously in black and white, it looked genuine enough.

“Okay, but why the hell are you showing me part of your dad’s rare jewel collection?”

“My father is showing it off at the LA Museum of Art,” she said. “and after receiving this,” she hands me an index card. “He wanted to make sure there was extra security for the exhibition. and that’s where you come in.” I went and looked at the card.

“I shall take what is rightfully mine!” It seemed ominous enough that I was intrigued.

“So, a simple protection job, eh? Tell me when and I’ll be there early,” I said. After Jane told me, she left my office.


I came to the museum about an hour and a half early, so I could get a good glimpse of the surroundings. There were plenty of hallways with paintings and statues made by artists from all around California. A few ways away was the exhibition hall, where everything was being set up. I saw Jane, so I went to her. She was with an old rugged man.

“Malone, I’d like you to meet Doctor Jackson Connor, my father.” He took out his hand. I shook it.

“Ah, you must be our great detective!”

“Please, that was Holmes.” We both laughed.

We talked for a while longer, but soon afterwards, we were interrupted by an older Greek man.

“Excuse me sirs, the exhibition is about to begin.”

“Uh, Doc? Who was that?”

“Ah, that was Mr. Nikos, the caretaker of the museum,” Connor replied. “But enough dilly dally! We have an exhibition to start!” We each moved to our positions. Jackson to the front of the stage, and I went to the back.

Soon after, Mr. Nikos went up and introduced Doctor Connor to the stage. After saying a few words, he turned to the display.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you, the Blood Alexandrite!”

The cloth covering the podium was removed…

…but there was nothing there. Gasps were heard throughout the museum.

“The Blood Alexandrite! It’s gone!” Everyone in the room started to panic. In the midst of the panic, I kept my eyes open. My eyes happened to catch the eyes of Mr. Nikos. As soon as he saw me, he ran.

Obviously suspicious of him, I chased after him. He went a few ways until I was able to tackle him down. When I tackled him, a certain red Jewel managed to drop out in front of Mr. Nikos.

Nikos struggled as I held on to him. “Get off me you drat fool!”

“Why did you steal the Alexandrite, dirtbag?” I yelled while holding onto him.

“My name is Alexander,” he replied. “I was named after my ancestor! It is my birthright!”


After the gunshot, Mr. Nikos stopped struggling. I got up to see who shot the gun. It was Jane.

“Well, someone had to do it!”

Jane went over to Nikos’ corpse, and dipped the Bloody Alexandrite into some of his blood. She then looked at it.

“Nice and fresh.”

Afterwards, the exhibition went off without a hitch. Doctor Connor showed off his Jewel, and everyone was amazed.

Soon after, Jane met with me afterwards.

“Well, that was quite the story!” she said. I agreed. “A shame it ended so quickly.”

“Well, it’s supposed to end quickly,” I said. “After all, it’s flash fiction.”

And like many stories, we ended it with a kiss.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Yeah, I got something that should work. In.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Dead Man’s Jazz
879 Words

It’s the here and now, and I am getting ready. I’m getting all the guns I could find. Big ones, small ones. I’m packing heat, cold, and lukewarm. Hell, I even brought a few knives for good measure. I’m determined to finish things. It’s the here and now, and I am preparing for the last day of my life.

I think back to ten years ago. I had been discharged in the army, so I decided to join a mercenary group. That’s how I found the Adders, a group not bound by the government, or any government. It was there I was introduced to him.

“You must be Joe? I’m Sam Juda. A pleasure to meet you.”

I think back to a year after that. Me and Sam got into a number of jobs with the Adders, and while we weren’t necessarily the best of friends, we both knew we had each other’s asses. On one excursion, we just so happened to meet a certain young woman, who just finished being a girl. Due to circumstances from said excursion, it was obvious that we couldn’t just ask her to come home, so we took her with us.

“What’s your name, lass?” I asked.

“Julie…” she said, obviously scared out of her wits.

Throughout the next few years, Julie would train with the Adders, developing into quite the assassin herself. She would get to know both me and Sam, and we would both fall in love with her. There was one day that Julie made her choice. She chose to be with me. We were in love, so we made love.

I think back to two years ago, when the Triad attacked the Adders. Many of us were killed in the attack, including (or so I thought) Julie. I would later find out it was Sam who sold us out.

I think back to a year ago. I started working a few odd jobs around the city, mostly involving killing. I worked with a few partners, and they were the kind of people I considered family.

I think back to a few weeks ago. Julie would come back into my life. I honestly thought she was dead, so I was relieved she was there. While we reminisced, Julie told me that sam rose up the ranks of the Triad and became their leader. Later that night, we reminisced on a more personal level.

We were in love, so we made love.

Unfortunately, some triad members came and shot us down. Julie died for real that time, while I remained somewhat unscathed, or so I thought. Turns out, I later learned that a bullet was lodged into me in a way that it would eventually kill me, but if it gets taken out, it will kill me soon after. When I was told this information, I knew what had to be done.

Present day. I finished driving up to the Triad Headquarters. Found it funny that they became powerful enough that their headquarters was wide in the open. I could see part of the reason why, because as soon as I walked in, there were some metal detectors up front. As soon as I went through a detector, I was stopped by a security guard.

“Excuse me sir, I need you to remove your metal items,” he said. I showed what I was carrying. Every last part.

“Holy gently caress!”

I started unloading. Sure, my aim wasn’t what it was back when I was with the Adders, but for punks like these, it was enough. Sure, they got a few hits on me, but I had a certain destination I had to go to, and I didn’t have time to just lay down and die. I gun my way to the elevator, and press the button to the top floor.

As I headed up the Triad Elevator, I prepared for a fight by hiding to the side of the door. Sure enough, as soon as the door opened, guns were firing. I got out of the elevator, and quickly knocked down a Triad guard.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked him.

“Down the end of the hall, to the left!”

I quickly went in that direction, gunning anyone standing in my way.

When I went through the fancy looking door at the end, I noticed a desk with a chair. I went over to the chair and turned it around. It was empty. I then felt a gun at the back of my head.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up.” Sure enough, it was Sam.

“Well, I did have a blast trying to get here.”

“I honestly thought my men killed you, along with Julie.”

“Well, you know what they say, hard to kill a man who fucks.” We both laugh.

“I know drat well why you are here, and it isn’t for some witty banter, '' Sam said. He started to pick up his gun. I do the same.

“Then let’s get this over with.”

“Yes, let’s.”

We both fire our guns at each other.

Sam falls to the ground.

Soon after, so do I.

As I laid dying, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied. Before I rested my eyes, one thought came to my mind.

Julie…I’ll be there soon.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


I got something stupid in mind.


The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Bob the Bike builder’s Homosexual Bike
501 Words

The following is a story written by an AI, who was given every story in Thunderdome.*

Bob is a gay black man who lives in an aboned bunker, a bunker made entirely of bone. He makes bikes for closeted gay men for a living. One day, a closet came with one of his bikes.

“Help! My bike needs to be repaired or else a gay British boy will die!”

“Is he 18teen years old?” Bob asked, sexually.

“Yes, why?” The Closet asked.

“Then I’ll see what I can do,” Bob said, also sexually.

He starts repairing the bike. He has had so much of a fascination with bikes that he married one. Bob’s Bike-lover came downstairs.

“Lover, what are you doing?” Asked the Bike-lover.

“I am repairing a bike for an 18teen year old gay British boy,” said Bob-lover. Bike-lover has been with Bob ever since Bike-lover was harassed by potatoes. Bob saved him by throwing a potato so hard that it exploded. This is a Call of Duty Reference.

The next day after Bob worked on the bike he went downstairs. He saw that the bike was now a man.

“Ock,” said the Man-bike. This is a Thunderdome Joke.

“Sir bike, why are you a man?” Asked Bob.

“Because the gay British boy is fated to die.” Said Bike-man.

“I am an Atheist,” said Bob. “I do not believe in fate.” He then went and built the gayest bike ever. It shot out rainbows and its horn sounded like an orgasm. Since its future owner was British, it also had a tiny Union Jack for repair purposes, and also a British flag.

“Perhaps this gay bike will defy fate,” said Bike-man.

“By the way,” said Bob. “You haven’t told me or my lover your name.”

“Since I was just born, I do not have a name.”

“Okay, since you do not have a name, your name is now Dave Bikeman.”

“So I need to bend it like Bikeman, then?” They both laugh.

Bob and Dave Bikeman went over to the gay British boy. Since Dave Bikeman was a Bikeman, he can go as fast as one horse.

A few minutes later, the gay British bike was delivered to the gay British boy.

“Thank you gentlemen,” he said. “Now I do not have to die a horrific death and me and my lover can have sex in secret.” They all laugh. Except for the Janitor. He is sad.

Just then, Bob got a call from his Bike-lover.

“Bob-lover, I am pregnant,” said Bike-lover. It was the first male pregnancy from a bike. Or from a male at all.

After taking Bike-lover to the hospital, he gave birth to a healthy velociraptor. This is a The Man Called M joke. It is bad. If any children are reading, do not tell a The Man Called M joke.

Afterwards Bob and his family lived happily ever after. Until they didn’t. This is a Thunderdome ending.

*It is not actually made with an AI.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


While my DQ was not a proper one last time, consider this my redemption.


I will go with Crazy Little Thing Called Love

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


The Kids Don’t Sleep Episode 1337: Crazy thing, love.
874 Words

Eric Undertaker looked out the window of his luxury office, pondering his life. Ever since he noticed women, Eric has had the desire for a woman’s touch. He has fallen in love so many times, if one were to ask how much, he would ask them how many breads they had in their entire lifetime. After loving and losing so many times, Eric had to wonder…

…Will I ever find the right one?

While Eric was looking out the window, he happened to notice a certain young woman heading into the office of Undertaker Cosmetics. She looked familiar. Very familiar.

“It can’t be…!”

The opening montage. Eric and some of his associates stand around in sexy poses.

The Kids Don’t Sleep is Brought to you by: Oct Dishwasher Soap. For the mother who needs eight arms, but only has two.

Eric has seen that woman before. He would only need to look at the earliest of his wedding photos. She looked very similar to his first wife, Katherine!

But that can’t be! Eric thought. She’s been dead for years! Katherine was perhaps the closest thing Eric had to a true love, but she sadly perished years ago due to a tragic sightseeing accident. Eric had to see for himself, so he ran down.

When he got to the first floor, he quickly saw his “Mystery Woman” talking with his receptionist.

“Excuse me,” said Eric. The woman turned to him with a curious look. “My name is Eric Undertaker. May I ask what your business is here?” The woman paused, as if she was witnessing for herself just how handsome Eric was.

“Oh yes,” she said after a while. “My name is Kate Unfer, and I would like to take an internship here.” Eric was surprised at how her name sounded similar to his first wife’s, but dismissed it as mere coincidence.

“Certainly! Do you have your resume?”

“Oh, of course!” She handed it to him. Eric looked at it for a little while.

“Well, it seems like you would be a good fit for the Undertaker family. Welcome aboard!” He, of course, meant the company, but there was a part of him that wanted to welcome her to his actual blood family.

“Oh, thank you!” Kate said. “I won’t let you down.”

The next few months were like a blur for both Eric and Kate. What started as a private meeting became so much more. Eric and Kate went to many places around New Boston. Business meetings became lunch between friends, which eventually became dates. While for some reason they thought they heard a love song by some up and coming musicians, the fact was that they were falling in love.


Later on in the local cafe, Eric came to meet with Kate, ring in tow. After conversing for a while, Eric went down and opened his ring box.

“Kate. You have given me the kind of happiness I thought I would never find again. Will you marry me?” Some of the women in the cafe who knew Eric rolled their eyes. Kate, on the other hand, seemed hesitant. “What’s the matter, darling, don’t you love me?”

“I….I….!” Kate said. “I do, but… I’m sorry!” And just like that, Kate ran out. Eric could only ponder, with one thought in mind:

What in the hell…?


That night, Eric was in his bedroom, still wondering just what the hell happened. It was raining loud enough that night that he almost didn’t hear the desperate knocks on the door. He went without his shirt and opened the door. It was Kate.

“Eric, I’m so sorry!” she said, while repeatedly kissing him between words. “I don’t know what I was thinking! Of course I’ll marry you!” Her face was wet and it wasn’t because of the rain. Eric knew what came next, but he wanted to be safe, just in case.

“Right then, shall we?” Kate nodded. So they did.


A few months passed, and it was the day of the wedding. Friends and family came to the occasion, including former lovers and wives of Eric, and even Eric’s father, James Undertaker. While Eric didn’t think anything would happen, multiple weddings in the past have made him wary enough to bring a shotgun. For the most part, the early parts of the wedding went without a hitch. But then the words that brought Eric pain so many times were spoken.

“If anyone were to object to this union, may they speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

Just then, a massive pit opened in the Earth, and a grotesque creature came out.

“I thank you Kate, for leading my master to my target!” The crowd was horrified. Eric looked at Kate, wondering what the hell was going on.

“I’m sorry, Eric,” she said. “I’m actually Katherine. I saw what a wicked man you have become, and asked Satan to take your soul!” After the confession, the creature grabbed Eric and dropped down the hole. Kate could only yell Eric’s name while being taken against her will. Eric looked stunned after what happened.

Kate looked down the hole, relieved that it was all over.

Crazy thing, love, she thought. Makes you a complete idiot.

The credits roll.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


I think I have a regular-rear end something in mind.

Send me a Youkai to haunt my soul.

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Chili posted:

Waterfall youkai

The Ice Sword and the Waterfall of fire
887 words

A long time ago, in a far away land, there was a ruler from Azoria named Raken.

Now, Raken was quite the wicked man. He would murder people for the pettiest of crimes, and even sometimes for no reason at all! His favorite method of torture was boiling some water on the victim. The water was so hot that it burned the flesh almost instantly. It was known as the “King’s Bath”. The people of Silverbrook cowered in fear, having no idea who would be the next to die.

One day, a girl named Arturia was playing with her family. She was enjoying her playtime when some palace guards came to the house.

“Time to pay the taxes!” One of the guards replied.

“But, you aren’t supposed to come for another month!” Arturia’s father replied.

“Lord Raken wishes to have another wife, so he demands payment now.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll have it for you next week.”

“You don’t have another week! Time to take a bath!”

Arturia’s father was taken away, kicking and screaming. One week later, her mother received a letter with only these four words:

“He is now clean.”

Enraged, Arturia swore revenge. She fled to the neighboring country, and swore to master the blade.

Six years passed. Arturia has trained under the leadership of the neighboring country of Or’dah. While she lacked the power of her male compatriots, she quickly made it up in speed. On the sixth anniversary of when her father was taken away, she knew she was ready.

While her party traveled to Silverbrook, she stumbled upon a cave. Curious, she, along with a few other soldiers, went inside. At the end of the cave, she saw what appeared to be a blade made of ice! One of the knights in her group tried picking it up, but was almost instantly frozen solid. Not taking any risks, they left the cave for now.

When she returned to Silverbook along with a regiment of soldiers from Or’dah, she heard that a King’s Bath would take place the next day. This was her chance! How appropriate that she would kill Raken at a similar event that her father died?

The day of the Bath came, and everything was set up in the castle courtyard. Arturia and her men hid until the opening they needed had come. A few seconds later, there was the sound of drums, and Raken spoke.

“The gods have declared that this man needs to be cleansed of sin! May they have mercy on his soul!”

At that moment, Arturia and her men charged at the ceremony. While her men attacked the palace guards, Arturia herself went after Raken. They dueled a certain distance before Raken was standing at a certain spot. Arturia threw her sword at the rope holding the water, and it poured on Raken. True to the rumors, the water was hot enough that it burned Raken’s flesh. After he died gruesomely, Arturia climbed up to her sword and raised it in the air. She was victorious!

A year had passed. Arturia became ruler of Silverbrook. She was known to be a much kinder ruler than Raken, though such a feat was not difficult. It was then that she received word from one of her guards.

“My lady, there appears to be trouble over at Enget Falls!”

Enget Falls was a popular vacation spot close to the palace. Rich and poor enjoyed the cool waters of the falls. It was even where Raken obtained the water for his “baths”. But recently, the falls of Enget have been unnaturally hot. In fact, the waters have been hot enough that it was able to burn the flesh of man.

Remembering the ice sword from before, she asked her scholars about it. Their research happened upon rumors of a sword known as Permafrost. They also found what was thought to be lost information about the sword.

“If one were to touch the blade Permafrost, they would become one with the ice. But if one with a warm heart touches the blade, they would be able to wield it.”

With the information at hand, Arturia went over to the cave with what was believed to be Permafrost. When she reached the blade, she tried to touch it. While the blade was cold, it had no effect on her. With Permafrost in tow she went over to Enget Falls.

When she arrived and got close to the falls, she heard a very familiar voice.

Arturia! My mortal enemy!” It was Raken’s voice!

“Why do you harm the people, so?” Arturia asked.

If you are to be a woman of the people, then I shall curse the people forever!” He laughed a rather unearthly laugh. In a matter of desperation, Arturia threw Permafrost at the falls.

The sword hit the area behind the falls, and an unearthly scream was heard.

I…shall have…my vengeance!”

The sword did not freeze the falls, but it did return them to normal.

Fearing that Raken’s spirit has not been completely wiped out, Arturia left Permafrost in the falls. Legend has it that it still remains there to this day. Next to the falls, a sign reads:

“It is said that the sword Permafrost is under these falls. Beware! If it is removed, the falls may burn your soul!”

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


To in, perchance…to dream?

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Prompt: A child, it's unclear if it's my child, falls into a fast moving river is being swept away. The child is wearing a yellow raincoat like Curious George. I'm wearing a nice suit and an expensive new tie. It was a gift from my dad. I kick off my shoes and jacket and dive in to save the child but the current pushes me back while pushing them forward. My arms and legs get heavier and heavier. Finally, I can't kick one of my legs. It feels trapped. I look backwards and through the water I can see that an alligator has wrapped his jaws around my thigh. We make eye contact and then the gator pulls me under and begins a death roll. I start to drown. The child is washed ashore and is safe.

My interpretation: You wish to live up to (or perhaps surpass) the ideals of Fatherhood that your father had.

Cat's still in the Cradle
768 Words

Jake Gato remembered listening to the oldies on the radio. He was always amazed at how good the songs of yesterday were. Growing up, he would always be reminded of the songs of old, even those that weren’t old when he was young. One certain song that reminded him of his life was the 1974 Harry Chapin hit, “The Cat’s in the Cradle”. Not because he saw himself in the father in the song, but in the son.

His father Joe was a working class man, who, as anyone can see through his actions with his family, was a kind man, willing to do anything for his family. Unfortunately, it usually came at Jake’s expense. While there were a few times when Joe was there when Jake needed him, there were just as many, if not more, times where he wasn’t. Now Jake had his own family, and didn’t have the time to spend with his father, or even his own family.

When he was young, Jake wanted to be like his dad. He got his wish.

A few years before, Jake and his wife Sara welcomed to the world their first, and so far, only child, Nathaniel. That was obviously too long, so it was usually shortened to Nate. To Jake, Nate’s birth was one of the happiest days of his life. That was ten years ago. Nate was now a young boy, but he wasn’t sure if he really “knew” his father.

While there were many times Jake was not there for Nate, one instance where he was there was when they worked together to build a treehouse. Jake helped set things up and build it, and Nate was his “Little Helper”. Nate would spend hours with his friends, while Sara would usually watch close by to make sure Nate doesn’t hurt himself.

One day, after a particularly rough day at work, Jake came home frustrated. After literally yelling to Sara about his day, they had dinner. They had pork chops and Brussel Sprouts. Nate was asked how his day was. He showed them a letter from his teacher.

“Dear Mrs. Gato:
I’m rather worried about young Nathaniel. He stays around his group of friends and is quite sociable, but whenever the children talk about their families, he seems quite dismissive. There has even been more than one instance where he has mentioned that he ‘has no daddy’, even though I have met with Mr. Gato, myself. I also noticed that when other fathers come to pick up their children, he seems rather depressed.”

After Sara read the letter, Jake seemed rather confused.

“Nate, why are you telling others I don’t exist? Your friends have seen me before!”

“Do you even know my friends' names?!” Nate yelled. Jake paused for a bit, obviously having trouble remembering. Out of frustration, Nate ran out the door. Both Jake and Sara knew that he went to the treehouse.

“Maybe I should go to him,” Sara said.

“No,” said Jake, regrettably. “If anyone is gonna go to him, it has to be me.” So he went over to the treehouse.

When Jake climbed up, he saw Nate in the corner, crumpled up in a ball and depressed. Jake went to the opposite corner and made a similar position.

“Look son, I know I haven’t been there when I needed you the most. Hell, Grandpa Joe wasn’t any better. But I can honestly say that he was trying. And drat it Nate! I’m trying too!” He broke down. “I’m trying, damnit!” A few seconds later, he felt Nate’s hand on his shoulder, as if to assure Jake that everything was going to be okay. Jake then hugged Nate,both of them bawling their eyes out.

The next night, Jake went and called someone who was overdue for a call. Namely, his father, Joe.

“Hi dad, It’s Jake…Yeah, I figured now is as good a time as ever to call…Anyway, is it okay if Nate and I come over and visit? I’d bring Sara, but this is something that needs to be between men…Doesn't matter to me, Nate and I will make time…Great! See you then!”

A few days later Jake and Nate started to leave for Joe’s place. When Jake first started the car, he heard a familiar tune. After a while listening, Jake and Nate sang along with the chorus.

“And the Cat’s in the Cradle and the Silver Moon, Little Boy Blue and the Man on the Moon. When you comin home dad I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then. We’re gonna have a good time then.”

The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


In. Picture, please.


The man called M
Dec 25, 2009


Since Sitting Here was before me, and Jib after, here are my crits for them.

Sitting Here-big stick ideology

This here is deep. Not the kind of crap you find in r/im14andthisisdeep, but actually deep. It seems like this is the kind of story where one might add, “You know what this says about society?” And it would fit. I could see why this won.

Only one real screw up at the end. (Ghosts like, was it supposed to be Ghost-like?)

Cut of My Jib-Where the Rubber Meets the Road

This, however, pissed me off. First of all, look at this sentence:

some idiot posted:

Vera and the Valkyries, leather vests with nametags and a custom embroidery that matched the professionally stenciled logo on their jet black matching Vespas, the were torment incarnate.

Who in blazes would look at that, and think, “Yeah, that’s a bloody good sentence, boy howdy!” Not even I would mess up like that! And this is freaking me we’re talking about!

Other than that, there were some Rentboy quality spelling errors (That didn't have the excuse the poster from the story gave.) that partially ruined an amusing story.

[some weird poo poo deleted by sitting here]

Somebody fucked around with this message at 06:33 on May 11, 2022

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