Sign of the Times (1777 hits)
Category: UberMadness!Rating: 0.26 on 74 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by UberMadness! (View user info) at 2005-08-09 10:00:09 EDT
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Entry 1
"Come on, come on." Dale tapped the side of the steering wheel impatiently as the train cars rumbled over the tracks in front of him. The long mechanical snake pulled its heavy load out of town having just received its nightly filling at the grain elevator. The cars passed lazily as if barely awake and oblivious to Dale Anderson's big hurry to get home to the six-pack of Schlitz in the refrigerator.He and the boys from the city maintenance garage had just had a few beers at Lucky's after working late fighting with the boiler in the basement of the city office building. Dale found himself in a sour mood, more so than usual.
"Come on! Come on you motherfucker! Hurry up!" His fisted hands pounded the steering wheel. Rules of protocol didn't apply in the confines of Dale's 1953 blue Ford pick up and rarely outside of it when Dale was around. The street was empty and the sign at the small corner gas station blinked "Sorry We're Closed." The moon had taken over its shift in the sky over an hour ago and the night settled in.
The last car slithered by and Dale punched the accelerator. He lifted an empty beer can to his mouth and shook the last drop onto his tongue. He tossed the empty can out the window and watched it bounce erratically on the street behind him.
He drove a short distance and turned down the old gravel road and headed out of town towards home. The dinner Betsy had cooked would be warm and waiting in the oven. She knew better than to mention his tardiness. Four-year-old Donald would be sleeping.
Less than an hour eariler, Lyle Smith, flipped the neon "We're Open" sign to "Sorry We're Closed" at Russell's Gas Station where he worked pumping gas, washing windows and changing oil six days a week. Just yesterday he was given a raise from $.75 cents an hour to $.80 cents to reward his four years of dedicated service. Before leaving he restocked the cigarettes and swept the floor. He scrubbed his hands knowing the white bar of soap could not wash away the pungent petroleum odor or the black oil stains now part of his skin.
He took off the blue shirt with his name stitched on the chest and tied it around his waist. Ellie would wash it tonight so he would have a clean shirt to wear when he left in the morning. Seven-year-old Ritchie would be awake, bathed and in his pajamas waiting to see his daddy before bed.
Lyle closed and locked the front door and started off down the street towards home whistling to the moon, kicking stones and thinking of his sweet Ellie as he walked.
Dale twisted the radio dial to full volume and banged his hand to the rhythm Bill Haley & His Comets.
"See ya later alligator...after a while crocodile,
Can't you see you're in my way now,
Don't you know you cramp my style..."
Dale swerved the truck side to side as he drove; fishtailing back and forth and leaving a cloudy dust trail in his wake. The old road was empty on that cool summer night. It was quiet except for the sound of a pick up truck racing over the gravel and the isolated man whistling with the crickets.
As he raced his truck towards the wooden bridge that crossed Crooked Creek, Dale thought he saw a figure on the road some distance ahead. He leaned forward and tried to focus on the darkened image.
Lyle stopped whistling and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the noise. He had been walking along the dirt road and had just gotten to the wooden bridge. He saw the headlights of a pick-up truck moving side to side in his direction. He considered going back for a moment then decided to proceed across. After all, there was plenty of room for a man and a truck to pass over the bridge at the same time and surely the driver would see him and slow down. Lyle quickened his pace.
Lyle was a simple hardworking peaceful man. He never drank, never swore and did his best to avoid conflict. But conflict was heading his way in a cloud of angry dust.
Dale Anderson saw there was a black man standing on the bridge. "Heh! I'll give the boy a scare!" he spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Probably one of those nigger bastards who keeps stealing the batteries from the maintenance garage." He rationalized as he pushed the accelerator a bit further as the truck came to the bridge.
Lyle turned and waved his hand in the direction of the now blinding lights. The truck wasn't slowing. He stepped towards the rail and as he did the flat metal frame of a mirror crashed into his shoulder shattering the bone. The edge of the mirror caught his chin and spun him hard into the railing breaking several ribs.
"Holy Shit!" Dale roared as he watched in his rearview mirror, while the man spun and dropped. He skidded to a stop and the dust settled around him.
"Holy shit..." he said again more quietly as he opened the door and walked back to the groaning man on the bridge.
Lyle Smith couldn't speak. His jaw was badly broken. He fought to control his breathing. He fought to remain conscious. Thoughts of Ellie and Ritchie flooded his mind. Shocks of pain pierced his upper body. He tasted the smooth metallic blood on his tongue.
He heard the man approach him. The truck driver's boots scuffed to a stop inches from Lyle's bleeding face. Lyle Smith stared up into the eyes of Dale Anderson.
Dale looked at the badly injured man. Why was the bastard out on the bride waving around like a madman anyway? Not that a person could even see these black drifters when they're out stumbling around in the dark of night. He didn't have his story straight but figured at least one would be needed when the medics saw the condition of the man before him. It was then that it occurred to Dale that the nuisance on the bridge might recall things differently.
Dale nudged Lyle with his boot. Lyle opened his eyes wider and tried to speak, his breath shortened. Dale looked at the chalk eyes staring up at him and thought about putting the bleeding man in the back of his pick-up truck and taking him to the county hospital. Instead, Donald Anderson's daddy pushed Ritchie Smith's daddy into the creek below.
"See ya later alligator...after a while crocodile," he walked back to the open door of his truck, and left his mark in a cloud of dust.
The death of Lyle Smith was not front-page or even second page news in Cumberland County. There had been allegations that Dale Anderson had been involved, but the case had never been solved or truth be told, fully investigated.
The police chief, and member of Dale's Tuesday night bowling league, had questioned him over a pitcher of beer and all-you-can-eat fish-n-chips. Dale explained that he had didn't see Lyle on the road the night he was killed. Although he had seen him several times before drinking and stumbling around along the old dirt road west of town. When asked about the broken mirror on his truck, Dale simply ordered another pitcher of beer and said, "Aren't we done with all this nonsense yet?" And the questions gave way to laughter and talk of strikes and spares and the new little waitress at Lucky's Bar & Grill.
It was a time when valuable resources couldn't be consumed by investigating an accident that resulted in a death of a simple black man.
---
Donald sat uncomfortably in the metal-framed chair positioned near the adjustable bed in Room 312 of Cumberland County Hospital. His mother had called him at the car lot where Donald tried to maintain a quota of three sales per week, and told him he should visit soon. He loosened his tie and glanced at the clock. His father lay before him. Dale Anderson's mouth yawned open exposing his thick tongue and silver filled teeth. Donald watched as the chest of the oversized man heaved in and out and in again. The mechanical life hummed and beeped in a language he didn't understand except that his father was dying. Dales heart and liver had opted for an early retirement leaving Dale on indefinite hold pending their last day.
Growing up beneath the storm of his father, Donald had learned to avoid conflict through quiet patience and as a result had grown up to be a simple hardworking peaceful man.
Across the hall and two doors down, quite unbeknownst to Donald, a less peaceful man held the hand of his dying mother.
"No mama," Ritchie Smith fought back the tears as Ellie told him it was time to go.
"I need to sleep, you'll be fine. Just remember what your daddy always taught you...." Ellie's words trailed off and her eyes drifted shut into another morphine induced sleep. Ritchie sat awhile longer holding her hand as he had done so many nights before watching his mother gradually succumb to the side effects of her treatments.
Some months after the night Ritchie's father didn't come home, he and his mother sold the farmhouse on the gravel road and moved into a small loft in the city. Ellie got a job washing dishes at Fritz's diner and little Ritchie, at his mother's insistence, stayed in school and out of trouble.
Something made him turn his head in the direction of the door and the nurse's station.
"Yes, Room 312, Dale Anderson, needs his saline drip refilled." The older larger nurse was directing a younger smaller staff member.
Ritchie felt the cool of his mother's delicate hand and the spark of stifled rage ignite. He recalled his mother's anguished calls to the Cumberland police department. The officers did not, however, find it necessary to search for a black man who didn't show for dinner or story time.
Over the years he had heard the whispered versions of his father's death and Dale Anderson was always given a leading role. His mother, despite her own mourning, had cooled his anger and did her best to direct his attention to the more forgiving parts of life.
Ritchie laid his mother's thin hand on the sterile white blanket and rose from his chair. He followed the numbers down and around the white washed corner until he arrived at the plaque reading 312. He watched a young nurse enter the room and a young Dale Anderson, head lowered, walk out. He starred as the young man in a suit headed down the hall towards the elevators. Ritchie glared into the room and at the old man in bed being adjusted by the nurse. This eroded form could not be the monster that had followed him all these years.
He looked in the direction of the man approaching the elevator. His eyes then his feet followed the younger version of his long-time adversary down the corridor.
Donald pushed the down button, waited, a bell sounded and the doors to the elevator opened. Donald stepped inside.
Ritchie followed, a bull drawn to red. A young black man desperate for an accounting to wrongs that happened years earlier sought to confront the young white man who never felt their impact.
"Doctor Edmond. Code blue. Stat" The intercom interrupted Ritchie's fury. He hesitated. His pace slowed. His eyes flooded with the calming influence of his parents. The elevator doors began to shut.
Donald pressed "Lobby". He looked up with the saddened eyes of a child losing a parent. He saw a man moving quickly towards the elevator then slowing when doors began to close.
Donald leaned forward, extended his hand and held the door.
- VS -
Entry 2
July 2005--------------
In rural Fairfield, Washington State, 10-year-old Christina Davis threw an orange rubber ball to her older cousin Patrick. He caught it. "Okay!" he called, "Now take a step back. This one's going to go long!"
Christina smiled and ran to the edge of the road. Overhand, Patrick launched the ball over the street, above Christina's head, and into the woods beyond.
"Good job," Christina rolled her eyes, "You lost it."
Patrick ran to her. "Damn. I guess I can go in and grab it."
"No!" Christina turned to her cousin, "My dad says that there are ticks in there."
"So what? I'm not afraid of ticks. They're tiny."
Christina stared at her cousin. "You're an idiot."
At that moment, the orange ball flew out of the woods and hit Patrick lightly on his forehead.
"Ungh!" he reeled back, "What the—"
"Ha!" Christina giggled, then turned to the forest. "Good shot! Whoever you are!"
"Who's in there?" Patrick demanded, "Come out here!"
"Patrick, it was probably just a neighbor—"
"You said that no one lives on that side of the street. You told me it was just woods for miles and miles until you hit the Seattle suburbs."
"Well yeah, but maybe someone's just walking in the—"
Christina stopped talking and stared into the woods. From the corner of her eye, she traced the outline of a man-like creature, covered with hair and gazing at her silently with shiny dark eyes. Her mouth opened, chills ran down her arms, and she stood motionless.
"Christina?" Patrick leaned into her face. "Chris? Are you okay?"
Her bottom lip trembling, she raised a shaking finger to the woods. Patrick followed her finger, discovering for himself the tall, hairy beast standing not ten feet away. He stepped back, shivering, and slowly grabbed the back of Christina's shirt.
The creature cocked its head, regarding the two with interest. Then, it opened its mouth. Its teeth were rotted and the act of parting its lips seemed to cause it some discomfort. It made a soft noise, "Ehh—hh!"
"Run . . ." Patrick whispered. The children shot across the street as if the devil himself was chasing them. As they ran into the house, screaming and crying about what they had just seen, the beast turned around and disappeared into the forest, snagging some of its hair on nearby thistles as it went.
April 2002
---------------
Andy Cooper threw a pile of paperwork onto his hotel room chair, flopped onto the bed, and stretched his body. He glanced at the time.
"Damn it," he spoke to himself, "Another night at the office past ten. I won't live to see my thirtieth birthday if this keeps up."
His phone rang and he answered it. It was his mother. "Where've you been, boy? I haven't gotten your check yet."
Andy groaned, "It's not the first of the month yet, Ma."
"Don't play dumb with me, boy. You might be mister big shot businessman right now, but I won't let you forget your obligations to this family, to help us like you promised. I broke my back to put you through college—"
"I paid my own way through college, Ma. Every penny."
"But who supported this family while you were away paying to drink, get stoned, and fuck around—"
"Ma!" Andy sat up, wincing, "I had a long day, and all I want to do now is go to sleep. I'll send you out a fresh check tomorrow, and you can spend it on whatever you want: groceries, books, or even all those trips to the salon that you like to take. Good night."
He hung up, sighed, and closed his eyes for several minutes. Then, he turned on the room television and flipped to the news.
" . . .third sighting this year. Reporter Leann Tenore is at the scene."
The main street of a Seattle suburb appeared on the screen, and Leann Tenore's voice began speaking. "Whelton, Washington is not known for much, aside from the half price fudge at O'Malley's corner store on Saturdays. This year, though, it's playing host to an unlikely attraction."
A man Andy could have easily guessed was a trucker appeared on the screen and relayed his tale. "I saw him two nights ago. I was at the local gas station and walked around the side of the building, you know, to use the bathroom. All of a sudden, I heard a kind of shuffling around in the trees right near me. I looked and saw two big, shiny eyes. Well, I yelled higher than a dog and I reckon I must've scared him off."
The attractive Leann Tenore appeared onscreen, holding a microphone. "This marks the third documented Bigfoot sighting in the state this year. Given that Bigfoot sightings are rarely reported nowadays, the recent sightings have inspired the faithful to try and spot the elusive creature."
An overweight man with a bushy red beard and an "I love Sasquatch" t-shirt said, "I've come all the way from Texas! When I heard that Bigfoot had extended his range this far south, I knew that this is the moment I've been waiting for my whole life."
Andy rolled his eyes and switched off the television. "Christ," he muttered, "What a bunch of yokels."
The next day, Friday, Andy arrived at 7:30AM in the Seattle offices of software maker Teligent Corporation. A second after he placed his briefcase on his small desk, his phone rang. He picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Andy!" Ed Franklin, Andy's supervisor, congenially boomed from the other end of the line, "I'm glad you're in. I've been here for ten minutes and I'm already having trouble integrating the new spreadsheet program with my database protocols."
"Mr. Franklin, I'm having trouble understanding you," Andy tried his best to sound interested, "That makes no sense."
"Just come by. Also, stop by Isabel and Michael's desks afterward. They came in early to learn it and wouldn't you know, they're having problems, too."
Andy sighed. "Fine."
After fixing Ed's system, Andy stepped back as his supervisor tested it out. After a minute, the double-chinned boss laughed, "Andy, I have to hand it to you. I'm so glad that the New York office lent you to us for the month. You're everything they said you were: a true software genius. I have no doubt that you'll be promoted right into upper-middle management as soon as you go back there. I give great recommendations by the way, and believe me, they're in high demand."
"Thanks, Mr. Franklin. Can I help you with anything else?"
"For now, I think I—"
Ed's phone rang. He picked it up. "Hello? Oh. I see. No, don't worry. I have him right here and he'll be happy to come right over to help you fix it." He winked at Andy.
Andy's face involuntarily shook and his fists clenched.
Fifteen hours later, Andy's eyes were bloodshot and he could barely keep them open.
"One more thing, Andy my man," Charlie, the mousy programmer chirped, "When the spreadsheet says it can't carry the differential, what does that mean?"
Andy snorted. "You were one of the programmers on this. Shouldn't you know?"
"Yeah, but I forgot. It's just easier if you tell me!" Charlie chuckled and put his hand on Andy's shoulder. Andy shoved it off.
"Hey!" Charlie squinted through his glasses, "What's your problem?"
"I'm just really tired," Andy mumbled as he fixed the issue, "I've had a long day."
"You've had a long day?" Charlie rolled his eyes, "I've been here since one-thirty! That's nine hours!"
"Whatever. It's all fixed. Good night."
Once again, Andy fell onto his hotel bed, desperate to dream away his prior conscious hours. As he closed his eyes, an unbidden vision of himself as a 5-year-old entered his mind. He imagined himself sitting on the old living room carpet and talking to his father, who asked, "Andy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"An astronaut!" Andy exclaimed, "Or a forest explorer!"
"Anything else?" his father prodded.
"A soulless corporate drone who cries himself to sleep at night!"
"What?"
Andy looked up, tracing the stucco ceiling of the room. He sighed and closed his moist eyes. "Nothing, Dad. I said nothing."
When Andy woke up on Saturday morning, he showered, dressed, and took a trip alone to the Seattle Zoo. He visited the aviary, the nursery, and the otter pools. Finally, he arrived at the sunken gorilla pit. Five lowland gorillas moved about, mostly eating or sleeping.
Andy read the nearby information placard, which read that gorillas only looked each other in the eye if they wanted to fight, and that the zoo was currently home to six of the animals.
Looking up, Andy again counted only five. Then, stepping as close as he could to the barrier and looking straight down, he spotted the sixth gorilla—the biggest one he had ever seen. It rocked back and forth, nursing a wound. Andy continued to stare until the beast stopped tending to its scar and looked back up at him with shiny dark eyes and a scowl on its face.
Andy looked away, tracing the boughs of a closely overhanging tree that grew out from the inside of the gorilla pen. Clumps of shed gorilla hair waved lazily from its branches, deposited there by the breeze.
"He can't climb out!" someone behind him called. Andy turned around to see a zoo ranger, who continued, "The tree's too weak to hold a 100-pound child, much less a 700-pound gorilla, so don't worry."
Andy nodded, wondering why the ranger would think he was worried over such a thing.
The following Monday morning, Andy did not appear at work. Calls to his hotel room went unanswered.
"Find him!" squawked Ed Franklin, calling the police, "We're going to lose a whole day of productivity unless he comes back and fixes these problems!"
At 3PM, two Seattle police officers knocked on the door to Andy's room. When there was no answer, they opened the door to find that everything seemed perfectly normal. A stack of business papers sat upon the chair, clothes were folded or hung in the closet, and all appeared at first as if he had just stepped out briefly.
"Hey, what's this?" one of the officers knelt beside the bed, pointing at a clump of matted, dark hair.
Three days later, the case was opened as a missing person report. He had not appeared at work and Andy's family had heard nothing from him. For all intents and purposes, it was as if he had vanished without a trace. Police returned to Andy's room, where they took hair, fingerprint, and skin samples.
Forensic investigator Erica Drake studied the hair samples from Andy's room. "Sir," she briefed Washington State Police Sergeant Robert Linsky, "I've isolated two distinct hair types from Andy Cooper's hotel room. One is Andy's hair, which is of course to be expected. The other sample is . . .well, it's . . ."
The Sergeant snorted at the young blonde investigator and narrowed his brown eyes. "Spit it out, Erica."
Erica cleared her throat. "It's not human hair, sir. It seems to be from . . .well, something like a gorilla."
"A what?"
"Something like a gorilla sir. Its hair was found in various areas around the room."
"Erica, you're telling me that a gorilla or something like a gorilla was in this guy's room?"
She nodded. "Undoubtedly, sir."
"So we're looking at an abduction scenario here? This gorilla thing took this guy away?"
"That's an option, but highly unlikely. Gorillas don't enter hotel rooms and drag victims away and there haven't been any reports from the zoos about missing gorillas. Other options exist."
"Such as?"
"Well, there was no sign of a struggle. That leads us to believe that Andy Cooper knew his . . . abductor."
Linsky raised an eyebrow. "So Cooper was friends with the gorilla thing that was in his apartment? Are you shitting me?"
"Well, it's a bit of a puzzle for us at the moment—"
"Okay, well let me know once you've figured out something that jives with reality. It doesn't matter if it's a man, a gorilla, or even fucking Bigfoot that's involved. We have to find this guy."
Andy never reappeared, and although the case file remained open, most of his colleagues and family members gave him up for dead.
July 2005
--------------
Reporter Leann Tenore spoke at the camera. "This incident reported by two children playing ball in Fairfield marks an unprecedented fifteenth Bigfoot sighting in Washington State this past season alone, breaking last year's record of fourteen. Descriptions of the creature are similar enough to have attracted the attention of state law enforcement."
"We have multiple eyewitness reports at this time," Sergeant Linsky talked to a press conference, "We're sending out extra patrols to areas that have had sightings. Until we have more information, we ask that residents keep their children and domestic animals inside the house. Contact your local law enforcement if you see anything out of the ordinary."
After the conference, Sergeant Linsky returned to his office, shut the door behind himself, and closed the blinds to his windows. Sitting down at his desk, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and uncapped it. Suddenly, his phone rang. "Shit," he muttered, then picked it up. "Linsky."
"Sir, it's Erica Drake from the lab. We've found something interesting at the site of the most recent sighting in Fairfield. Some of the creature's hair was caught on a thistle bush and after examining it, we've made some discoveries that may shed some light on the case of Andy Cooper from three years back."
"Oh yeah? Tell me."
"Sir, it's a spot-on match for the hair samples found at Cooper's hotel room three years ago."
"Shit, that's amazing. What does that tell us? That it's really some sort of escaped gorilla?"
"Sir, there's something else you should know . . ."
Andy watched as the zoo ranger walked away to yell at some children for throwing rocks into the monkey cages. Checking around to see if anyone was looking, he grabbed a tuft of gorilla hair from the nearby tree and stuffed it into his pocket.
Sergeant Linsky strode into Erica Drake's lab. "So? What's the big news?"
Erica turned from her DNA charts to face the Sergeant. "Well, the hair samples we found are the same as those from Andy Cooper's hotel room."
"Yes, yes. Gorilla hairs, that's right."
"I didn't say gorilla hairs, sir."
"Excuse me?"
"I said that they were from Cooper's hotel room, but they didn't match those of the gorilla."
Linsky stared at Erica. "So—wait—what?"
"Sergeant, the hairs on the thistle in Fairfield weren't a match for the gorilla hairs—they match Andy Cooper's hair."
"Wait, so you're—but that means. . . oh my holy God."
Reporter Leann Tenore held her microphone up to an elderly shopkeeper who grumbled, "These Bigfoot sightings are probably nothing more than just a moose of some kind. Like goblins, fairies, ghosts, or sea monsters, he's just the latest evidence that people who get bored and tired with their everyday lives will invent any kind of fantasy to make it more exciting or adventurous for themselves. It's nothing more than just another sign of the times."
Deep in the forest, Andy sat in his cave lair, picking his teeth with a small twig. He then plucked out the errant bits of his half-cooked rabbit dinner from his long hair and massive beard. It had been some time since he had stopped keeping track of the days, and thus didn't realize that it happened to be his thirtieth birthday.
He imagined, as he sometimes did, the groans of the new middle managers at the Teligent Corporation, and he fleetingly wondered how his family was doing without him.
He banished those thoughts with a burp.
Entry 1:
Adamdidit2u
antluvdog
AwesomeJohnson
bigbabylons
Circe
darko
Davros
dodahdave
DonkeyOnTheEdge
DonovanMD
engine13
Exodus
Hirilnara
jack11058
Jack_McCallum
jgreening
joedaddy
kimmy02721
loki
munkeypants
Natsukau
NOWorNEVER
ParlorTrick
peckerhead
QueenAshlee
salmonofdoubt
satchel
Slovin
sparkle_pink
Spuds002
supadupapupa
thecaes
ThineJericho
thorpe
31 eligible votes (34 total) *
Entry 2:
badassmofo
Berty
BLITZKREIG_BOB
bob
CaptainThorns
Confuzitron
dasteve
Dirtbird
electrictoothsyndrome
fudgepacker
HadToBeDone
Ignore_the_Small_Print
indoninja
intellismartness
jfreif
JMG114
JonnyX
krissi
LadyPlural
Magicaddict
MandaPanda
MyNameIsTim
Or_
Pentameter
redraven
RyuFu
Snark
spedmonkey
stevie_says
The_Yellow_Dart
tlozoot
William_Q_Percy
youarsoghey
zakalwe
29 eligible votes (34 total) *
* Eligible votes are those made by users who had either (A) posted 3+ messages OR (B) written 100+ [lowered from 750+] reviews as of the beginning of the UberMadness! competition.
User Reviews
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2005-08-12 01:05:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was a good matchup.
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2005-08-11 16:53:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Be ready to bring it, dude.
Submitted by ParlorTrick (user info) at 2005-08-11 13:14:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Wow. JMG114 - I certainly didn't expect the dead black guy to beat corporate guy turned big foot. Great twist on the title. Excellent story. (Just so you know...my own mother said she liked your story better...sheese.)
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2005-08-11 13:09:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Well done, PT. I certainly salute you.
Submitted by Ignore_the_Small_Print (user info) at 2005-08-11 11:40:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I found the first one quite difficult to follow, it didn't really hold my attenetion.
Number two was more predicatable and the ending was a little too abrubt, but it drew me in more so I'm voting for this one.
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2005-08-11 09:44:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
If people are capable of putting this kind of thing together making it hard for me to decide who to vote for
then
why
has
uber
been
crap
lately?!?
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-08-11 09:26:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2005-08-11 08:50:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-08-11 08:07:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Er...
Entry 1.
Entry 2's ending was just...odd.
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2005-08-11 07:28:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Like them both - #2 just edged it.
Submitted by dodahdave (user info) at 2005-08-11 02:35:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2005-08-11 00:56:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by peckerhead (user info) at 2005-08-11 00:55:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2005-08-11 00:52:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I really liked both of these, for different reasons.
Tough choice.
-Dave
Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2005-08-11 00:01:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Hmm.
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-08-10 22:53:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Exodus (user info) at 2005-08-10 21:27:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-08-10 21:06:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2005-08-10 21:02:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 1=awesome.
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2005-08-10 20:40:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
very short entries this round. not sure if that's good or bad.
Submitted by NOWorNEVER (user info) at 2005-08-10 16:54:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by engine13 (user info) at 2005-08-10 16:06:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2005-08-10 14:26:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-08-10 13:29:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Damned tough choice.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-08-10 13:19:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Spuds002 (user info) at 2005-08-10 13:18:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by RyuFu (user info) at 2005-08-10 13:17:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I mean #2.
Submitted by RyuFu (user info) at 2005-08-10 13:17:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Not sure, had lukewarm feelings about both. They were well-written, to be sure, but I didn't really get into either one. The first one was more compelling, the second one hit more at home.
I'll vote for #1.
Submitted by Confuzitron (user info) at 2005-08-10 12:45:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-08-10 12:41:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jfreif (user info) at 2005-08-10 11:43:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good.
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2005-08-10 10:51:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This was a tough decision. Really tough. I enjoyed reading both of these very much. Both did a very good job with the title. The writing in both flowed very well.
I almost just hit 'rank' and voted for Entry 1...
Then I pressed to button for entry two and almost pressed rank...then stopped again.
Shit, this is tough.
I have to go with entry 2 because I like the subject matter more.
Submitted by Slovin (user info) at 2005-08-10 10:15:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Natsukau (user info) at 2005-08-10 07:35:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2005-08-10 04:08:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by QueenAshlee (user info) at 2005-08-10 02:40:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2005-08-10 02:21:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I suppose number 1 fitted the title better, but I definately prefered number 2.
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2005-08-10 01:43:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
These were both incredibly interesting! Thanks so much for the read. I have to say that I though number 2 was a little drawn out, while 1 was short and sweet and hit in the right places. Still, I liked the theme in number 2 better.
Submitted by Or_ (user info) at 2005-08-10 00:36:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Neither of these blew me away, but Entry 2 was a more interesting read.
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-08-09 20:42:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2005-08-09 17:03:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
easy peeze japanezee
Submitted by kimmy02721 (user info) at 2005-08-09 16:58:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2005-08-09 16:44:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2005-08-09 16:38:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
wasn't fond of either.
Submitted by Hirilnara (user info) at 2005-08-09 16:22:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-08-09 15:59:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by krissi (user info) at 2005-08-09 15:54:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Because Entry # 2 Reminded me of a Mitch Hedberg joke, so I'm posting it:
"I think Big Foot is blurry, and that's the problem.
It's not the photographer's fault.
Big Foot is blurry.
And that's extra scary to me.
Cause there's a large out of focus monster roaming the countryside.
Run... he's fuzzy... get out of here.
Gotta go. "
Submitted by redraven (user info) at 2005-08-09 15:42:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2005-08-09 15:35:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WOOOOOOOO SASQUATCH
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-08-09 15:15:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good job guys
Submitted by dasteve (user info) at 2005-08-09 14:28:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by salmonofdoubt (user info) at 2005-08-09 14:12:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-08-09 13:53:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Woulda been better if you'd written about D.B. Cooper...
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2005-08-09 13:49:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by krissi (user info) at 2005-08-09 13:19:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-08-09 13:11:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
.....1
Submitted by antluvdog (user info) at 2005-08-09 13:11:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
#1 was pretty good.
I got bored with #2.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2005-08-09 12:05:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by fudgepacker (user info) at 2005-08-09 11:51:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by satchel (user info) at 2005-08-09 11:37:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by The_Yellow_Dart (user info) at 2005-08-09 11:34:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Dirtbird (user info) at 2005-08-09 11:25:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by ThineJericho (user info) at 2005-08-09 11:12:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by ParlorTrick (user info) at 2005-08-09 11:02:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by spedmonkey (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:44:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Number one seemed too much like a bunch of other stories I've read during this contest. #2 just didn't have enough development, so it didn't really make sense when he decided to become a wild man and such. 2 wins it, though, on originality.
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:39:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:32:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
both decent
1 was short, sweet, extremely well-written, and not overbearingly poignant. A+
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:31:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
#1 was touching.
#2 left me wondering why there were gorilla hairs in the room...
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:29:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:25:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No comment.
Submitted by bigbabylons (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:21:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:17:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by AwesomeJohnson (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:11:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2005-08-09 10:06:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Neither of them grabbed me by the balls.