Peace Out (1198 hits)
Category: UberMadness!Rating: 0.55 on 91 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by UberMadness! (View user info) at 2006-09-25 18:40:15 EDT
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Entry 1
Peace Out.Peace out is what you say to bid a sarcastic, white-washed goodbye.
Peace Out is the organization that brought us The VR.
Peace out is what you say before entering The VR.
Peace out.
My stubble can no longer be considered stubble really -- it is now a beard. The fuzz on my teeth, now plaque. The pain, now anguish. But all of that -- that's outside of the VR; where people live people's lives, and not the superhuman existence that I, and so many of my junkie-brethren enjoy.
My apartment is a fucking shithole. What used to be the dapper digs of a twenty-something computer scientist is now a festering hate-farm of bacteria and human waste. A similar comparison can be drawn between my body, recent-past, and present. And if it were possible to place blame on anything so completing the picture of perfection, it would be the fault of The VR. But I would never fault it so. Well, not for what it has done to me, but maybe for taking so damn long to do it.
I can remember it all.
"Holy shit!"
"Yes -- it is very real, isn't it?"
"Is there any way to tell that it's not?"
"Occasionally, an incorrect memory is triggered -- normally in the form of a smell. Yesterday, someone on the battlefield thought they smelled jasmine -- it was napalm. Napalm death."
"Crazy!"
"Yup -- but otherwise, it's entirely indiscernible from reality."
He could not contain his enormous grin. "Is everybody ready?" The group represented the entire spectrum of the affirmative -- from the apprehensive but enthusiastic, to the enthusiastic but apprehensive. "Well, lock and load!"
And we all went rolling down the narrow, dusty street in our armoured personnel carrier -- another tour set out to learn firsthand, the horrors of war, in the simulated environment of The VR.
Peace Out -- they had some kind of genius, coming up with the beast. It was the perfect mix of entertainment and purpose -- submerging everyday people in the harshest realities of conflict. The first dose -- but a nose of the sleeping polar bear -- was you, as a soldier, marching the mean streets of Fallujah. Your face, being the coward that it is, decides to flee the shrapnel without you. It hurts. You are actually bleeding. You are actually screaming. Eyeballs hang limp from their sockets, and you smell the earthen burst and charred flesh.
That got people talking.
Adolescent males, mostly -- who got to satisfy their sick, hormonal lust for death, without ever leaving the living room.
As if the aspirations of Peace Out were as righteous as handing out goblets of blood though. Hah. I laugh, even in my train of thought. My internal monologue cackles. Fool. Oh, they had bigger, and better things to come. They had real purpose. Purpose unparalleled -- and depending on where you got your news, that purpose might have been sinister; it might have been un-American; it might have even been noble. But it was what it was, and it was against the war.
They marched forward, hoisting the flag of Peace, gunning down civilians all the while.
So, the next dose: you are Jonas Fucking Belfry, or whoever the fuck you are, walking down the street when a child dies in front of you -- exploding, melon-like, at the introduction of screaming hot fifty-cal. Then it's your turn, and projections of your family, your lovers, your pets, all meet the haughty hand of death.
It's generated from your memories -- the old technology that seeks out the banks of familial-information -- and so, the images and mannerisms approach perfection. In fact, it's almost better than reality, because most of us remember these people in flattering, photographic light. In The VR, your children are sweeter and more intelligent than anything they approached in the real world; your wife radiates an ethereal beauty.
And there she is beside you -- you see her? -- kneeling before the very same open pit, your sobbing daughter enveloped in her arms, as dark men, with intentions malicious but non-specific, chatter unintelligibly as they pace behind you.
She looks over -- tears bubbling on the lower lids of her eyes -- and is about to speak when the solitary bullet destroys your cinematic moment, and pierces her skull, and that of your only child. They both fall limp, and tumble without pain, into the waiting ditch below.
That's what I got, anyway. There were variations on the theme. It was tailored, to exact the greatest effect. It changed people's lives.
There were, of course, the people that thought it was great -- the testosteronely-gifted, mostly. Odd incarnations of them, too -- single mothers, judges, nannies, schoolteachers -- and for them, it was more of an advertisement for war than for peace; but for most, it was a horror beyond imagination, surfing the crest of a wave of social opinion -- enough of the death and dying.
By virtue of its likeness to reality, and the startling, perpetuating emotions inflated, people shared it. Told their grandparents. Told everyone. Told everyone to go do something they would never have dared suggest: go watch your family die. And it was because it really was waving -- above all the guns and polished boots and goose-stepping; the flag of Peace. The message was love. The message was strength. And lovers, they are the strongest of all.
Peace Out -- buncha fucking geniuses. They had people marching in the streets; burning effigies; voting. It was as if the whole of America had ingested magic paper squares and elected to fuck openly in the streets again.
But who fucking cares now.
Who fucking cares, because something had to be done. I was a doer. I did it. I got paid to do it. Not because I was against their message, but because I loved The VR. Because I hated real life.
I played in it all day -- part of the department charged with sabotage on the front lines -- and was one of the first to discover the exploit in the self-projection. In The VR, you are represented as who you think you are, and if you think you are Jesus Christ, well, Jesus Christ you are.
Me -- I wouldn't even consider disgracing myself as such. Not anymore.
But for a long time, that's what I was, and what I did -- tagged along on tours, impersonating the instructor; distracting the guests; causing general confusion -- anything to dilute the experience; and my success was limited to that narrow, intangible goal.
Until one day, someone saw me change form.
"Hey, how did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Change like that?"
He was young -- pimply, with a bulbous nose. His eyes were wild and filled with fire; the projection of himself.
I was confident.
"You mean this?" And I changed, into a duck-billed grizzly bear.
He began to drip. "Dude, I come here every day -- this is the coolest shit in the world. Please, tell me how to work it."
This proved a decisive moment. It was a tight secret -- how to change. We protected it -- feeling it was a power best-kept for ourselves -- but here I saw possibility -- a way to not undermine Peace Out, but render it entirely irrelevant. A way to bring about a big change. A gift to humanity, even.
"In The VR, you are what you believe you are. There is a distinction between thinking and believing though, and that's the hard part."
For a brief moment, he was of school-going age. He noticed.
"You'll get it," I said. "Tell your friends."
And he did. And he did. And they told their friends. And before long, The VR was full of handsome guys and girls, animal-hybrids, and inanimate objects that spoke.
It was all teetering on the brink; all it needed was a tiny shove. And hey, I had gone that far already, hadn't I?
"You guys wanna see something cool?" I approached a group that had strayed from the tour -- there were many in those days. They were a herd of elephants, trouncing through the jungle with human heads.
"You know we do," said one.
I lead them to a tiny, thatched palapa. Automatic weapons chattered in the distance, ignored. "In we go."
And then: "This is something I discovered not long ago," belt unbuckling on its own. "You will not be able to see or feel what I am experiencing," I said, pants falling to the ground, "but there is a beautiful, underage vixen kneeling before me," and my underwear slid down my legs, "who is about to perform the most amazing fellatio on me," and my dick at once bobbed and glistened.
They stood, in awe, reverting to their original, corporeal projections.
"In The VR, I can do whatever I want, and you can too. The only limit, is your imagination," and I tapped significantly at my temple. "The key, boys and girls, to ecstasy unattainable through drugs or anything else; do with it what you will."
I spent the next few weeks combing The VR -- smiling at all the moaning, writhing, morphing shapes splayed out in the crater holes. It was truly a thing of beauty. It changed the world. No one who experienced it ever did, or wanted to do, anything else. And so, they didn't -- the vacant cubicles and sewing machines and automobiles a testament to that.
And the guarantor on my paycheque -- old Uncle Sam -- was oddly pleased about it. Men with expensive suits and thinning hair dominated the public debate, denouncing those who likened it to a technological narcotic, and praising its virtues as a leisure activity, similar to boating, or soccer.
This was of course entirely at odds with the religious right. Originally, it proved divisive -- pitting greasy-haired addicts in colossal street fights against the great washed and cleanly -- but even the most pious of Americans began to find the church at odds with the new God -- The VR.
It was that good.
The day that Peace Out pulled the plug, as it were, was akin to stopping completely, the flow of methamphetamine to East Hastings. If East Hastings was the entire state of Texas, and methamphetamine, guns.
Scores roamed the streets, most angry and wild-eyed; some depressed and dejected; a small few, celebrating quietly.
It was forty-eight hellish, riotous hours before the government announced their plan: a new system would soon be online -- available to everyone, on a work-to-use basis. For every hour spent working a state-recognized job, equal time would be granted in The VR.
Morally abhorrent; a completely pacified public.
I don't give a shit.
For my part, I am granted unlimited access. Call it my pension, if you like.
So hey -- guess where I'm going?
That's right.
Peace. The Fuck. Out.
- VS -
Entry 2
Fierce whispers followed the two men as they strode down the corridor. For much of the populace, the mere privilege of setting foot upon this royal blue carpet is one they would never know. If they could, many would pause to admire the not-always-legitimately acquired art that sat like vast gilded barnacles upon the cream walls. Others would stand expectantly and wait, hoping for the opportunity to catch a glimpse of one of the famous and powerful people to whom the corridor simply formed part of a workplace.Alas, with the Security Threat Level set at Cornflower Blue, all tours were cancelled, and there was nobody to witness the General advancing down the hallways, locked in a hushed debate with the Vice President.
"All I'm saying, Frank, is that perhaps we should keep this news under wraps until we receive more details." Vice President Dixon was rapidly growing tired of the argument. He knew that, regardless of the outcome, it was going to be a long day. Mentally, he was already removing a much anticipated dinner appointment with the mammararily gifted new secretary in the Press Office.
"I hear what you're saying, but he's the President for Christ's sake!" Hissed General Hawkins "He is about the only person that we can't cut out of the loop!" "Besides, Ambassador Cole is also one of his personal friends. Hell, it's no secret that he only got the job because of that bet the President lost."
"That's beside the point." Countered Dixon "All we know is that he is missing..."
"Presumed dead." Cut in Hawkins
"'Presumed' being the operative word. We don't know what happened. We need to have all the facts before taking this to the President - because with Cole involved, I don't think he will act rationally."
"Are you high, Andrew? If the President was capable of rational behaviour we wouldn't be having this conversation." Hawkins shook his head; he could deal with people with explosive tempers. He could even handle those who just broke down in crises. Fruitcakes like this President however, were not his forte, and he knew it.
"We have confirmation that we lost communications with the Ambassador's helicopter while it was flying near a guerrilla controlled zone. The President needs to hear about this."
"What I want to hear is why the Ambassador was flying in such treacherous airspace. Wasn't he briefed? Isn't shit like that marked on the maps you give these guys?"
"Oh yeah, sure. In big fucking letters. 'Here be monsters.' 'Here be whales.' 'Here be guerrillas with anti-aircraft weaponry.'" He snorted.
Dixon glowered at the sarcasm, but couldn't be bothered countering with some of his own. "Look Frank, the President is going to want to know how someone let this happen. And we both know that whoever that someone turns out to be, they'll be in shit so deep they're going to need scuba gear and a big fucking shovel to get out of it. If we don't have complete information, 'someone' could well be us."
Before Hawkins could fully consider the metaphor, they turned the final corner and halted abruptly at the end of the hallway, where an imposing door stood before them. He whispered to the Vice President "I still think he needs to be informed."
Dixon sighed, looking resignedly at the door before them. "Fine. On three." He stretched out his hand. "One... Two... Three."
"Bad luck, Andrew. My scissors beat your paper." Hawkins snipped his middle and index fingers together in victory. "We tell him." Grinning, he rapped on the door.
"Who is it?" Demanded a gruff voice from the other side.
"General Frank Hawkins and Vice President Andrew Dixon, requesting permission to meet with you Mr. President, sir." Replied Hawkins. (The President insisted at the start of his term that he be addressed at all times as either 'Mr. President, sir' or 'His Magnificent Excellency'. Most people, including his family, opted for the former.)
"What's the password?"
Hawkins groaned, and looked over at the Vice President for support.
"It's 'Sparkle unicorn', Mr. President, sir."
"Secret knock?"
Dixon leant over and tapped out 'Pop Goes the Weasel' on the door. No sooner had he finished when it opened and the President ushered then inside.
President Clarence Harvey was an unremarkable man to look at - mid sixties, balding, five-foot ten with a slight paunch. What is remarkable is that he became President. A fair to middling politician throughout most of his career, his wealthy friends and a series of lucky breaks - including the unexpected retirement of his predecessor and the (still unsubstantiated but) politically devastating paedophilia accusations levelled at the opposing candidate catapulted him to power.
If only people had more time to get to know him, they might have realised that he wasn't 'endearingly eccentric' as he had once been described, but something closer to 'as irrational as stuffing stuff a rabid meerkat down your pants' and paranoid to boot.
"Come," began the President "We can meet in my fort."
Their gaze drifted to a staggering structure of sofa cushions and curtains that had been erected around the President's mahogany desk. The President entered through the back and took a seat at his desk. Somewhat bemused his two subordinates parted the curtain and seated themselves opposite him in the relative darkness.
"Now then, gentlemen, what did you want to discuss?"
The General cleared his throat. "We have received a worrying report regarding Ambassador Cole, Mr. President, sir."
"Willy? Great man, William Cole. One of my oldest friends, don't you know?" The President chuckled. "Once bet me I couldn't lick my own elbow." He lowered his voice "He doesn't know that I've been practicing while he's been away. Pretty soon, I'll get there and win that bet back."
He raised his forearm to his mouth and strained to lick a patch of his suit near the elbow.
"See?"
Dixon acted quickly to end the stunned silence that followed. "Uh, very impressive Mr. President, sir." The President grinned broadly. "We must report that we have lost contact with Ambassador Cole."
"He wears glasses, not contacts." Interjected the President.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. President, sir." The Vice President was confused.
"Glasses, Dixon. William Cole wears glasses. Not contact lenses." The President explained.
"Sorry Mr. President, sir." Dixon met the President's gaze and slowed down his speech. "What I meant was that we no longer have contact with Ambassador Cole."
"He's missing, Mr. President, sir." Added Hawkins. "His helicopter was lost; we believe it was shot down."
The President's face fell, as the news sank in. After a pause, he looked across the desk at Hawkins. "Was it... terrorists?"
"We, uh, we haven't been able to confirm that yet, Mr. President, sir."
"This country we sent him to, it's got oil, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Mr. President, sir. Some of the biggest reserves in the region."
The President nodded knowingly. "Let me tell you men something: If there is one thing that recent history has taught us, it's that the more oil these foreigners have, the more terrorists they are harbouring." He slammed his fist on the desk. "It is our duty to seek out these terrorists and destroy them, before they can do any further harm. How quickly can we launch a pre-emptive strike?"
Dixon paled. "Mr. President, sir, we are talking about a sovereign nation, with a democratically elected government." He might as well have remained silent for all the attention his objection received.
"Hawkins, how many nukes do they have?"
"Uhh, none that we are aware of, Mr. President, sir."
"Excellent. How many do we have?"
"Hundreds, Mr. President, sir."
"Terrific. We can't lose."
The Vice President tried again.
"Mister President, sir, I think an invasion would severely damage this government's popularity - and our standing in the international community. Shouldn't we perhaps examine a peaceful solution first?"
"Poppycock, Dixon." The President gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "This administration has started more successful conflicts than any other - we have a reputation to uphold. War is back in favour, and peace is out like last year's fashions. Especially when you are winning them, like we are." Little flecks of saliva were starting to rain down on the polished mahogany desktop. "Peace is the same as doing nothing. Peace means that the terrorists win!" He fired an accusatory look at the Vice President. "Is that what you want?"
Before he could offer a resigned reply, the President cut in once again.
"You heard Hawkins, this country has more oil reser.. I mean terrorists, than almost anywhere in the region!"
Hawkins decided to weigh into the debate. "Mister President, sir, our military is already very stretched; it would be difficult to mount another invasion at this time. A peaceful alternative could be worth consideration."
"Some things in life are difficult, General!" Scolded the President, "This however, is not. War in. Peace out. Simple as that. If someone kills your friend, you don't offer them a peaceful solution, do you? No! You teach them a lesson! This will be 'Operation: Peace Out' - make it clear we aren't taking the soft option. William would've wanted it that way."
"'Operation: Peace Out', Mr. President, sir?" Dixon could feel his political future, and any chance of presidency falling apart right in front of him.
"That's right, Dixon. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Might even score us some points with the younger crowd. I hear that the phrase 'Peace out' is a popular one on the street. We could even get one of those Negro hippity-hop musicians to feature in the publicity campaign..."
Grinning at his own ingenuity, from the recesses of the President's jacket emanated the unmistakable tune of the 'Baby Elephant Walk'. The president retrieved his phone and answered it.
"Hello?"
"Willy!" The President looked bemused. "You found a phone in heaven?"
"You aren't? Dixon and Hawkins here just told me you were!" He shot a glance across his desk.
"Ran out of fuel? No kidding. Remember that time when we tried to hitchhike home from summer camp?"
"I know. I've never touched poison ivy since. I couldn't sit for a week!"
"Ok, glad to hear you're alright. I have a surprise for you when you get back."
"Let's just say that the next bet we have, you're going to lose!"
"Great. I'll talk to you later, Willy."
The President placed the phone back inside his jacket and glared at his two subordinates.
"William Cole isn't missing. His chopper ran out of fuel and he had to hitchhike to get to a working telephone."
Dixon sighed with relief. "That is great news, Mr. President, sir. I take it we will be shelving 'Operation: Peace Out'?"
The president furrowed his brow. "Hawkins, you know more about these things than I do. Does giving our Ambassador a bad pilot constitute an act of war?"
"I don't believe so, Mr. President, sir."
The President looked crestfallen.
"Not even if they have some of the biggest, uh, terrorist reserves in the region?"
Entry 1:
Adamdidit2u
Amontillado
Anansie
apollo88
Bob_Dole
Brdn_Nkd
charminglybeef
Chroniclysm
Confuzitron
consuelo212
Coyote
Crystle
Davros
DrogoRoch
Durae
EchoBoxing
FilthyAssistant
fodesnor
Genko
GetNakeddd
Hirilnara
intellismartness
Jack_Burton
Jack_McCallum
jgreening
JMG114
JoeyG
JonnyX
kaos-king
Magicaddict
Merlina
Method
munkeypants
NerfHerder
Orgasmatron
Pentameter
rad1101
Sacrilicious
scourge
sicosemen
Soley_Trinity
Spam
sparkle_pink
SPECIALk
WingedFoote
41 eligible votes (45 total) *
Entry 2:
Antioxident
Axolotl
BadAssJulie
Bigmike
Bubba2341
c1ndy
calbearspolo
CaptainThorns
coley
darko
DonkeyOnTheEdge
DonovanMD
firefly
FunnyAsCancer
ghola
goferforhire
gravitas
hot_pocket
HotWillie
Impassive-Digressive
indoninja
joedaddy
justagirl27
kybernetikum
littledan
loki
Maltese
MandaPanda
satchel
Serious_Melvin
St_Jimmy
Stagger_Lee
stevie_says
supadupapupa
The_Yellow_Dart
thorpe
Wiggles
William_Q_Percy
36 eligible votes (38 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 charminglybeef (user info) at 2006-09-29 23:15:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Funny you should say that impassive-digressive -- I felt the same way:
Given an unbiased choice, I would have voted for yours.
Don't know if you watched as keenly as I did, but the numbers swayed quite a few times in both of our favours.
I think the quality of the title -- or at the very least, the interest generated by it -- was reflected in the amount of hits during the voting period, especially when compared to some of the others of similar quality and submission time.
All that being said, I think this was a good matchup, and I think I was lucky to squeak by.
Best of luck to you in the future rounds.
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2006-09-29 20:53:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Kudos to my victorious opponent.
I'm a little surprised the voting was this close - I know that if I had been given an independent choice between these two entries, I certainly wouldn't have voted for #2.
Excellent work with (despite comments by others to the contrary) I believe to be a particularly shithouse title.
Submitted by Antioxident (user info) at 2006-09-29 08:10:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by NerfHerder (user info) at 2006-09-29 01:22:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by SPECIALk (user info) at 2006-09-28 23:14:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-09-28 21:13:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2006-09-28 18:06:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2006-09-26 11:14:16 (#)
Ranking: 2
I want to live in The VR
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2006-09-28 18:02:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
For the first time this UM, I am torn between what I consider to be two equally brilliant submissions.
#1 had fucking great idea and was fantastically written.
#2 Had A superbly subtle shift between comedy and hard hitting political satire the longer it went on.
I'm going to re-read before voting, again the first time ever for me in UM.
Apollo Vs Domenad?
Submitted by consuelo212 (user info) at 2006-09-28 16:15:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by fodesnor (user info) at 2006-09-28 09:09:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2006-09-28 05:28:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kybernetikum (user info) at 2006-09-28 04:47:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-09-28 03:04:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i'm surprised jack ryan didn't show up
Submitted by WingedFoote (user info) at 2006-09-28 01:32:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
the first was an excellent idea, as was the second. I just liked the first one more.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-09-27 19:59:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-09-27 18:41:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Wiggles (user info) at 2006-09-26 17:50:40 (#)
Ranking: -2
stupid
--
What a bitter little turd you are.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-09-27 15:35:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2006-09-27 13:34:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-09-27 13:33:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-09-27 12:05:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
#2 was freakin' brilliant!!
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-09-27 11:02:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Soley_Trinity (user info) at 2006-09-27 05:44:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2006-09-27 02:58:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 1 was interesting. I liked the idea.
Submitted by Serious_Melvin (user info) at 2006-09-27 00:11:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Wiggles (user info) at 2006-09-26 17:50:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
stupid
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2006-09-26 15:50:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Huzzah! A good one finally!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-09-26 15:00:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
How the FUCK can this be tied?
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-09-26 15:00:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
How the FUCK can this be tied?
Submitted by gravitas (user info) at 2006-09-26 14:46:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-09-26 14:20:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
tough call
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-09-26 14:02:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:35:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:25:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I knew I was going to enjoy Entry #1 when I read this line - "My apartment is a fucking shithole. What used to be the dapper digs of a twenty-something computer scientist is now a festering hate-farm of bacteria and human waste."
I would like to nominate Author #1 for the Silk Purse award. Simply phenominal work, considering the horrific title. Well done.
As for Author #2...
Reading Entry #2 was like watching a retard construct a west Kansas homestead out of popsicle sticks just before tornado season. All that effort, followed by a disastrous end.
Thanks for a great read, Author #1.
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:02:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Durae (user info) at 2006-09-26 12:39:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2006-09-26 12:30:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Even though I love 'Get your War on' Entry 1 was cool and original
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-09-26 12:15:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2006-09-26 12:12:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2006-09-26 11:14:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I want to live in The VR
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-09-26 10:41:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2006-09-26 10:31:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ETS vs. Pentameter?
This was a tough one. I thought I'd be going for Entry 1 until I re-read them, because it was much more immersive. However, Entry 2 was more successful in achieving its aim, and it was number 2 I looked forward to re-reading more than the first.
Also, on the second reading the President was Denny Crane.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-09-26 08:48:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Didn't much care for either of these. #2 seems better written though.
Submitted by littledan (user info) at 2006-09-26 08:47:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2006-09-26 08:18:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Dayamn, best match-up so far.
Both kick-arse entries.
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:41:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:12:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Bob_Dole (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:12:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:08:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Neither of these were all that good, although the idea of the president in a cushion fort made me smile.
Too bad #2 was so propaganda heavy. It could have been really something funny.
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2006-09-26 02:28:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Funny is good!
Submitted by BadAssJulie (user info) at 2006-09-26 02:03:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I forgot what I'm reviewing and I probably didn't read it anyway so I'll go with #2
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-09-26 00:05:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
say peace out again
Submitted by satchel (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:47:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:22:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:22:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The good stories in this comp don't have pictures attached to them.
I hope this proves to be a trend.
Submitted by justagirl27 (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:33:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
LOVED it
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:13:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Confuzitron (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:06:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:03:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Charminglybeef?
Submitted by Jack_Burton (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:49:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by hot_pocket (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:29:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm a white male, aged 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me! No matter
how dumb my suggestions are.
-- Homer Simpson
Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy
Submitted by calbearspolo (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:20:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That made my head hurt
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:12:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
#1, I'm so, so sorry. I just can't not give my vote to the guy who wrote:
"We could even get one of those Negro hippity-hop musicians to feature in the publicity campaign."
Cmon. That's gold right there.
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-09-25 20:51:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-09-25 20:36:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
W00T! I'm in Entry 2!
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2006-09-25 20:22:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This was a tough call.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-09-25 20:16:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2006-09-25 20:10:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Tough decision!
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:59:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Right the fuck on.
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:52:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:47:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:46:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
disturbing.
Submitted by The_Yellow_Dart (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:44:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Tough one. The first one lacked just enough clarity to make the second one better.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:29:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ya know, sometimes a title is REALLY good.
Sometimes a title is BALLS.
And sometimes, it's like this. Just barely good enough to write someting spectacular with.
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:28:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:28:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I skimmed both, saw a political message and a bunch of hyphens. I hate hyphens. What the fuck is everybody on? I leave here for a while and everybody is fucking hyphen happy.
Freaks.
Plus there was no Kip. For shame at the missed opportunity.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:27:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:24:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
too bad both couldn't be eliminated
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:21:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by GetNakeddd (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:19:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:17:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:17:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:15:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:15:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:14:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:11:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by charminglybeef (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:07:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Both good, but number 1 was a tickle more 'my style'.
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:02:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shitty title. but you two delivered...with shitty entries.
Submitted by Hirilnara (user info) at 2006-09-25 19:01:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-09-25 18:57:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
somewhat of a meh on both.
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-09-25 18:44:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
"Was it... terrorists?"
------
I laughed out loud. In fact, my cat jumped out of my lap due to my laughter.
The other one was still worse someone. Jesus fuck.
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-09-25 18:42:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Why couldn't I get THIS title? I say this ALL THE TIME.