Clawhammer (1110 hits)
Category: UberMadness!Rating: 0.47 on 100 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by UberMadness! (View user info) at 2006-09-25 21:51:20 EDT
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Entry 1
I've worked as the supervising physician and head surgeon for MAD for 20 years, patching up all of Dr. Claw's henchmen. Doing reconstructive work on the various super-villains he brought in from time to time, trying to defeat Gadget. But this was too much. He had finally gone too far.Three months ago, the MAD organization had a breakthrough. Some schlep had caught Gadget's niece, Penny, and her dog Brain, walking around the commissary. Tired and frazzled after a long day, Dr. Claw decided that instead of locking them up in the same crappy cells that don't get fixed, he would torture Penny until she told him all of Gadgets secrets.
That was the plan, anyway. She stayed quiet while he cut off her fingers one by one. She didn't peep when he burned her skin with magnesium flares. But when he finally started to cut off her ponytails, her spirit snapped like a child's pelvis. I have no idea why this was such a big thing with her, but her uncle was a bit nuts, so I have to assume she was, too. She gushed on and on about how Gadget never solved anything, and how her and her dog did all of the footwork for him. She cried about how every day she saved her uncle from unwittingly killing hundreds of people with her computer book.
This drove Dr. Claw over the edge. He raped Penny with his metal arm while she was strapped to the operating table, and had Brain put down with a shovel to the head. Finally, after hours of making her call him grandpa while he sodomized her with a stapler, he finally put her out of her misery with a shotgun blast to the back of the head, and closed himself off in a workshop with her computer book. He didn't come out for two weeks.
Meanwhile, a sense of normalcy had begun to creep back into the halls of the mountain getaway. Well, as normal as you can get when walking into the complex involves walking past the bloating corpses of the pre-teen and her dog. I'm not sure why he declared that they be placed on the building directory, but he was Dr. Claw, so we didn't really question it.
It was weird when he came out of that workroom in the morning, though. It was obvious that he had done nothing but slave over that book, based simply on his appearance. I'd never seen the evil doctor with even a single whisker on his face, and now he sported a full beard. He stunk to high heaven, and it looked like he had a few mishaps in the lab he wasn't willing to clean up after.
But he was calm. Relaxed. Almost serene.
Walking to his office, he smiled at the tech scurrying out of the path of his gaze, and he actually stopped and made conversation with Chuck, the watchman in his outer office. This obviously shocked Chuck, who fully expected to die. You see, the watchman for Dr. Claw's office is a sort of kamikaze position. He has killed 37 of them for simply making eye contact, and the three who accidentally made a sound in his presence were chopped up and fed to MADcat.
So obviously, everyone went back on edge. You could have heard a pin-bomb drop in the hallway as people were in the throws of mortal fear waiting for the meltdown. Work stopped, and at least three people in accounting had nervous breakdowns. But it never came. Sure, he killed his secretary by throwing her into his fireplace for not having the right brandy stocked in his wetbar, but that's normal. He's Dr. Claw, you don't question that.
When 5PM came and the hatchet had yet to fall, the denizens of MAD bolted for the doors like lemmings for the cliff. Without the whole "being pushed over the edge by BBC folks" thing.
I however, did not leave. I had to stick around to finish the "autopsy" on his secretary. I don't know WHY he wants them done. We know how they die, we know who they are, but I think it's for insurance purposes. I know for a fact that Kaiser Permanente won't just take "fell onto laser beam" as a cause of death.
But I was still working, finishing up the claim for "accidental death by butane" at my desk when Claw walked into my lab. He sat on a stool, calming holding Penny's computer book in his lap, waiting for me. I knew I was in trouble when he didn't say anything. I mean, for God's sake, this is Dr. fucking CLAW. He doesn't sit for anyone, let alone stay silent, patiently waiting for an opening to speak.
But that's what he did. And as my fear of evisceration receded, he spoke.
"Make me like Gadget, doctor."
I looked at him, aghast, "E...Excuse me, sir?"
"I want you to make me like Gadget." he placed the computer book on the desk, and tapped it with his metallic fingers. "I want all his toys, all his abilities. This book holds all his damn secrets."
I stared, transfixed. Was Claw admitting defeat? Was this his way of finally saying that Gadget was better than him? Was I witnessing the death of the super-maniacal, deadly, devious, destr...
"Damn it, don't sit there drooling like a mongoloid staring at a stripper. Get me prepped for surgery."
Well, since he put it that way.
But... I just couldn't stand up from my seat. Something was gnawing at me about this. Gadget was an idiot, and his stuff never really worked. And if the schematics for all of HIS designs were in that computer book, then THOSE designs were faulty as well.
"Dr. Claw, you don't want that. Trust me, sir."
"God damnit you insignificant pustule of crap! Gadget has been defeating me for over 20 years, and it's going to stop! Do it now, or else I'll have to hire someone else who can autopsy YOU!"
"Sir please! Don't you remember what his niece said?" I looked pleadingly at Claw. "It wasn't Gadget! He's never beaten you! She did, and now her and the damn dog are dead! You should be able to kill Gadget with your own hands now!"
"Shut up you insolent FOOL! You don't get it, do you?" He slammed his iron fist through my desk, shattering it. "You have no damn CLUE! It was NOT just Penny! It was NOT just that damned dog! This has been going on for three god damned DECADES! Don't you understand!?!?"
"No, I DON'T understand! What aren't you telling anyone?"
"HE GOT ME KICKED OUT OF GLEE CLUB, DAMNIT! HIGH SCHOOL GLEE CLUB!"
I was... Well, for the lack of a better term... Shocked. I could feel the giggle in my stomach start, and I knew I had to suppress it, or I was going to be a kebab for his damn cat. But I couldn't stop it. All of a sudden I was laughing, guffawing, in the face of my supreme leader. My most evil messiah. THE Dr. Claw.
And then it happened. I knew I was dead, but instead of killing me, he started... Crying.
Was this the lynchpin of hate? Was this the reason Dr. Claw had a woody for killing Gadget? To be totally honest, I was too afraid to ask. Or move. Or breathe. So I sat and waited for him to finish sobbing.
Sonofabitch must have really needed to cry, because I waited forever. But finally, I guess my impatience began to show. Maybe it was the drumming of my fingers. Maybe it was the occasional sigh, or maybe it was the fact I got up to use the pisser. But when I stood up, he asked, "Don't you want to know what happened?"
I replied honestly, "Not really. But I'm guessing that if I don't sit back down and listen, you're going to shoot me where I stand."
"I would have."
"I know sir. So, can you make it quick, though? I need to pee."
"You know that Gadget and I went to school together. Metro City High. I was the star baritone in glee club. Got ALL the chicks."
"Yeah, uh-huh."
"Listen up, asshole. If you interrupt this story, I WILL break you in half like a nice rye bread, got me?"
"Sorry, sir."
"Good. Where was I..."
"Chicks, sir."
"Right, right. Anyway, back then, Gadget was a screw-off. He'd come in late, he'd sing off key on purpose, and he always used his gadget-mirror in class to look up the robes of the girls. So one day, I got tired of it. I confronted him, and told him to be respectful of the girls. He laughed. At ME! Asked me 'Who was I to tell him what he could and couldn't do.' I just LOST it. In the middle of class I just punched him as hard as I could and yelled 'I'M MORTIMER CLAW, BITCH!' Suffice to say, I was kicked out of class. Kicked off the choir. I lost my scholarship to Metro City College. I had to go to shitty Metro Tech to become a doctor!"
"You wanted a choir scholarship?" I asked.
"That's it, you're dead."
Great. Wonderful. Thankfully, the laser techs at MAD kind of suck, and the beam of coherent death shot passed my stool like a dive-bombing tinkerbell. Not wanting to give him a second chance, I relented to the surgery. We prepped him that night. By 6AM, I had replaced most of his fingers and toes, and by midnight the next night, his modifications were done.
What followed was ten weeks of rehab, or mental work getting the gadgets to respond to thought.
Yes, I said ten weeks. This is Metro City. We can take a guy who fell off a cliff and have him ready for the next caper 7 days later.
Finally, he was ready.
Mostly.
We still had a few kinks to work out, but I was certain they wouldn't be an issue.
I HOPED they wouldn't be an issue.
FINE.
We knew they would be an issue.
He didn't care.
Much.
ALRIGHT. He had no idea. We blew huge puffs of smoke up his ass telling him everything spec'd out just fine. We knew this experiment would never work, and we saw our only chance to end the asinine attempts on a single inspector. What we did bordered on mutiny but we saw the writing on the wall when he asked for a laser to shoot out of his dick. He had gone totally mad, and MAD wouldn't be able to actually take over the world until he got his jollies killing Gadget.
You want to know what we did?
Sabotage.
Plain and simple.
He's planning a trap for Gadget right now. Building a robot Penny and Brain. He plans on luring Gadget to a dark field, and clobbering him from behind.
'Go go Claw hammer.'
God on high please let him use the damn hammer. If he uses the laser, it could get messy...
- VS -
Entry 2
Everyone knew Jim.He was that old black guy who sat on his porch all day and played banjo. Well, at first he was the young colored man who played banjo, then the Negro who played banjo, and I think just last year he worked his way up to the old black guy who plays banjo. Point is, Jim's been playing banjo on his front porch for a very long time.
Way back when I was a kid growing up in Tennessee, where you were just North enough to not be considered a hick, but still Southern enough to get away with saying "reckon," I'd always lean on Jim's white picket fence, and just listen as he sat there playing his banjo. I was too young to really pay attention to the words, much less really care what they meant. I just appreciated hearing a good song. And Jim could sing, too. He'd howl and wail, and put every bit of himself into the words he sang, the notes he plucked. He coulda gone pro, if he'd wanted to.
But I didn't really care about that, back then. I just liked chewing on a blade of grass and listening to the man, waiting until the rest of the gang finished their homework so we could play a game of baseball before the sun went down. And sometimes, when the sun had given its last hurrah for the evening, and the other kids had gone in for supper, I'd go back and listen some more.
My parents weren't around much. My dad, he worked in the city, and came home late and went to work early. About the only time I ever saw him was when Sunday rolled around, and the whole family shuffled off to church. After that, he'd go and visit the local bars for the rest of the day. And my mom...well, she was there, just...not. She drank a lot too, but she didn't have a job to distract her from that.
So homework came when I felt like it, and dinner was whenever and whatever I felt like making.
Jim filled that void for me a little bit. We didn't have a television, and even if we did, I'm sure Mom would have yelled at me for turning it on and giving her a headache, like she did whenever I flipped on the radio. But I could always walk down the street and listen to some good music, without ever having to bug my mom.
I remember one time, Mom had a bit too much, and started throwing things around the house - glasses, bottles, picture frames, whatever was light enough for her to whip around the room and still get a nice satisfying boom at the end.
I ran from the house crying that night, because I was seven, and when you're seven, there's not much more you can do in that situation. And while I ran, I knew there was only one place I had to go.
Even though I was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans, I fell asleep that night leaning up against that white fence, with Jim still playing. It was just the lullabye I needed to calm me down, and it distracted me from the cold I felt slinking up my pant legs and down my sleeves.
Jim was still there when I woke up the next morning, the sun's early rays just starting to pry open my eyelids. And he was still just playing away, as if darkness had never fallen, and sleep was not an issue. I tried to remember if maybe I had woken up in the middle of the night, and he wasn't there, but it seemed I had slept so soundly despite the concrete mattress, that I had slept the whole night through without so much as a toss.
I stood up to leave, to see if maybe anyone at home had actually noticed I was missing, when a flash of light bounced off Jim's banjo, causing me to look in his direction. And just for a second he looked right at me, stopped playing, and waved, a big ol' friendly grin beaming across his face as he gave a slight chuckle. With that, he picked right up as if he had never stopped at all, and I turned and ran home.
Later that day my mom died.
~~~
You don't really bounce right back from having your mom drink herself to death. In fact, you really don't bounce back, ever at all. There's no, "at least she went out doing something she loved," or "she felt no pain." It's really just the most miserable way you can watch someone go, to explain to people she knowingly did this to herself over a couple decades, and we just sat by and twiddled our thumbs.
But her death did come with some benefits, one being that my father finally started spending some time with me, that was nice. And two, that I learned at a very young age what an evil drinking is. I escaped years of torment and guilt at the hands of the stuff, since it was very plain to see I had the alcoholic gene in my blood.
I wish I could have said the same for my father.
After Mom died, Dad *did* spend a lot more time with me...drinking. He'd sit on the couch with a six-pack by his side, watching the game, occassionally yelling for me to come in and see Pete Rose run the bases. And I would, for a couple minutes, until sitting with him just hurt too much. I hated having to be there with him, to see my mother die all over again, except this time she had stubble and a worse smell.
And so I'd go outside and see if Jim was on his porch. He always was, and that made me feel good inside, to finally have something I could depend upon, besides Mom's Thursday-afternoon bender.
I listened to Jim more during those years than I did the radio. When people asked me if I had heard the new Zeppelin single, I'd have to just shake my head and say no, but I had heard the new song Jim started playing.
Even when I turned sixteen, and got my first car, the only thing I listened to were cassettes I had made of Jim. Sure, the quality wasn't that great, and sure, even the radio had better quality, but I didn't really care. The music was what mattered, and Jim's was the best I had ever heard.
About that time, I finally started paying attention to the words Jim was singing, and how they related to my own life. When I got my first crush, on Stacy Lovett down the street, all I could think about was Jim's version of "Shady Grove." I'd sing to myself as I walked down the street,
"Now when I was a little boy
I wanted a Barlow knife,
And now I want little Shady Grove
to say she'll be my wife."
I'd spend all my days thinking of her, secretly replacing Shady Grove's name with Stacy's when I knew no one was around to hear me sing. And of course, I wanted Stacy to say she'd be my wife, too.
Well luckily for me, Stacey and I fell in love, and one day we eloped off to Las Vegas, leaving my drunk-ass dad and savior Jim far, far behind, never to return again.
~~~
But that's the thing about saying you'll never go back, you always end up right where you left off. You can't help it, whether curiosity gets the best of you, or some unfinished piece of business ends up dragging you back in, kicking and screaming.
I experienced the latter.
About a week ago, I got word that my Dad died. Apparently his liver kinked out on him, after being in and out of the hospital for several years as he drank his sorrows away.
And so I found myself in my old house once more, seeing the same furniture, the same awkward family pictures, the same stains and nicks that one comes to familiarize with after many years in one place. And with those things, those possessions, came the feelings, the memories that never really leave you. There was the bed in which both my mom, and eventually my dad, passed away, two old drunks who bottled up their pain, ironically with a bottle. There was the closet where I hid the night my dad came home drunk, to find an even drunker mom. There I heard the screams and grunts that naturally come during the massacre that is a husband beating his wife, until finally there was only the piercing slap and hollow thud of a 140-pound woman hitting the floor, hard.
But the thing I found in that house that shook me most of all was my old tape recorder, which I found buried deep in my old closet, along with about half a dozen cockroaches. Beaming in amazement, I blew the dust off it, wondering if it still had any life in it. After setting it up, I pressed "play" with a trembling finger, and a soft click/whirr combination let me know that maybe this house wasn't totally dead.
At first there was only static, but soon the first notes came in, the jangle and twang of a banjo, the plinks, the plunks, the slides, the bends, they were all there, exactly as I had heard them growing up. Then the words, the words I stopped singing long ago, when I finally forgot the life I once called my childhood:
"Shady Grove, my little love,
Shady Grove I say.
Shady Grove, my little love,
I'm a-bound to go away."
I ran from the house just then, leaving the spools spinning as I bolted out the front door, hoping to God that this wasn't the only bit of Jim left alive.
It didn't take me long at all to hear the familiar old sounds, the deep husky voice I had heard so often on a weekday afternoon. And the white picket fence was still there, still gleaming in the midday sun like the body of Jim's banjo. And there was Jim, a bit more wrinkled, and a lot more gray-haired, but still the same familiar man I had always loved and respected.
Yet, as I slowed my pace, and neared his fence, I realized, yes, I worshipped the ground this man walked on...but other than that, I knew nothing about him. And it made me wonder, what had I based my developing years on? A neighbor's banjo songs? And then I realized, how do I even know his name is Jim? Do I really know that, or did I just call him that when I was young because I couldn't think of any reason not to?
It seemed right then, that everything I knew was wrong. I had based the most important years of my life on this man's music, and I just honestly had no idea who he was.
And I think that ultimately, that said something about who I was. If I didn't know this man, how did I know myself?
Maybe that's why I found it so hard to talk to him. Because it meant I was questioning myself, that I wasn't sure who I was. Self-realization never comes easy, and I think the fact that I had to realize someone else first made it a bit more difficult.
"Sorry to bother you," I began as he looked up at me, knowing the first words in thirty years' worth of listening would undoubtedly be the most important. "But I don't know if you remember me. When I was a kid, I adored your music. I was out here almost every day, listening to you play that banjo. I even recorded it, so I could listen to it when I couldn't be here. It helped me meet my wife, and it's pretty much shaped every aspect of my life in one way or another, and..."
It hit me right then, and I felt my confidence slipping as I finished that last sentence.
"...I sound like a total lunatic. Wow."
The chuckling started off soft, but soon, Jim was guffawing like a pro, whooping it up at the crazy white guy who came outta nowhere professing his platonic man-crush of over thirty years. But soon he calmed down, and wiping the tears from his eyes, he motioned for me to come over and sit at the empty seat at his side.
"Son, have a seat," he started. "It sounds like you've got quite a yarn to spin, and the best way I know to tell a story is with a banjo goin' off in the background."
I smiled, knowing full well after all these years what he said was true. Walking up the porch stairs, I headed over to the chair, sighing nervously as I sat next to the strangely optimistic old black guy, who's been playing the banjo since I was a kid.
"That's better," he said, picking up the banjo and starting to plunk out a little melody. "What's your name, Son?"
"Michael," I said, beaming.
"Well, Michael, nice to meet you. People used to call me Clawhammer, cause of the way I play this here banjo." He paused for just a moment, as he reached the main riff, his brow concentrating as he let the music speak his soul. Up close, I realized I had never really noticed how much he physically put himself into this music, that this wasn't just a pasttime for him, this was his job. This is what he was put on this earth to do, and damn if he wasn't gonna do it the way it should be done.
When the music finally settled into a more steady tune, he turned and looked at me, his bright white smile matching the gleam of his banjo, and said,
"But you can call me Jim."
Entry 1:
BadAssJulie
Ballare
Bob_Dole
c1ndy
Chroniclysm
consuelo212
darko
DonkeyOnTheEdge
DonovanMD
drgoatcabin
EchoBoxing
forthewin
Genko
gravitas
indoninja
intellismartness
JoeyG
justagirl27
maiorano84
NerfHerder
Soley_Trinity
sparkle_pink
supadupapupa
The_taste_of_Monkeys
thorpe
Wiggles
23 eligible votes (26 total) *
Entry 2:
Amontillado
august_sobriquet
Axolotl
Banga3386
Bellebrown
Bigmike
bob
Bubba2341
Bundaberg
CaptainThorns
Circe
coley
Confuzitron
Coyote
Crystle
Davros
DrogoRoch
firefly
FunnyAsCancer
GetNakeddd
ghola
goferforhire
Gunslinger
Hirilnara
HotWillie
Impassive-Digressive
Jack_McCallum
jgreening
JMG114
joedaddy
JonnyX
JulsInsane
kaos-king
kybernetikum
littledan
loki
Magicaddict
Maltese
MandaPanda
Merlina
Method
Orgasmatron
Pentameter
Phallic_Cymbals
polyamorousaj
rad1101
Sacrilicious
satchel
scourge
Shaun_Rocks
sicosemen
Spam
SPECIALk
St_Jimmy
Stagger_Lee
stevie_says
TigerLilly
William_Q_Percy
WingedFoote
57 eligible votes (59 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 jgreening (user info) at 2006-09-29 16:59:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FaC's was so good, even *I* voted for it.
It's funny to me that Wiggles voted for mine, though.
he generally can't stand anything I do, but in a blind story, HA.
So, on to Round 2 in the losers bracket! WEEE!!!
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-09-29 12:44:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Now that this is over, I get to respond to this:
"Submitted by consuelo212 (user info) at 2006-09-28 15:42:02 (#)
Ranking: 1
1 - Hilarious
2 - Jim? Please tell me you're not referring to Hendrix in some lame way."
Yep, you caught me. I'm an utter retard, who, *for some reason,* thinks that Jimi Hendrix played banjo instead of electric guitar. I also think that he lived past the 70s and grew up to be an old man, in place of dying at the tragic age of 29.
OH MY GOD, CMON.
The sheer inaneness of that question has bothered me since I read it.
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2006-09-29 12:26:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I wish I got to vote for this one..
Author 2, that was great.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2006-09-29 10:42:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Bellebrown (user info) at 2006-09-29 10:04:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2006-09-29 06:55:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by NerfHerder (user info) at 2006-09-29 01:31:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-09-28 21:25:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-09-28 18:45:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
And I count two ties.
"Dropping like Flies," and "41 Seconds."
Oh noes!
Submitted by Soley_Trinity (user info) at 2006-09-28 16:53:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by consuelo212 (user info) at 2006-09-28 15:42:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
1 - Hilarious
2 - Jim? Please tell me you're not referring to Hendrix in some lame way.
Submitted by consuelo212 (user info) at 2006-09-28 15:31:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-09-28 15:21:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Despite the fact that Author #2 did the most astounding job of shoe-horning a title into a story since I wrote a thing called Looking Down a few years back, I think he wrote a nice piece. Not the most original thing, and the Nice Old Black Man is becoming an uber-staple (I am guilty of using that plot device as well), but the words flowed well and it was a good tale.
Author #2, that show was never really my thing, so you lost me pretty fast. I'm glad you had the balls to try comedy, though.
I can't believe no one did a sci-fic or horror spin on this title.
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-09-28 12:47:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2006-09-28 09:00:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I liked number 2. Sentimental, but still good.
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2006-09-28 07:17:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Banga3386 (user info) at 2006-09-28 05:37:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
#2 was better by a long shot, and not just because of some childhood whistfulness either. I really liked the story and the effort put into it.
#1 had a glimmer of dark hope with the torture of Penny, turning the cartoon classic into a scary "realistic" tale of lifelong animosity and of revenge in a morose nature. I did like Penny's anger in being the real hero of the story but it got rediculous once the writer had her raped and the dog killed with a shovel. Still an interesting way to go with the title, also with the characters. Lastly, the evil Dr. Claw isn't supposed to be hands on or even seen.
Banga
Submitted by kybernetikum (user info) at 2006-09-28 04:41:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2006-09-27 23:28:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 1 is hilarious.
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2006-09-27 20:06:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2006-09-27 17:02:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
that should, of course, read 'Tough call'
Submitted by Spam (user info) at 2006-09-27 17:01:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Funny vs Touching?
tought call.
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-09-27 16:39:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
hee hee hee
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-09-27 16:38:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by august_sobriquet (user info) at 2006-09-27 16:29:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
man, these were both pretty good. i did have a bit of a pause at the brutal raping and death of poor penny-whoa. thought the writing was done very well for entry one, good story, but I just liked the second one a little better.
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-09-27 15:14:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-09-26 20:47:24 (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked #2. Reminded me of an entry in IGKTW.
---------
Me too.
Stagger perchance?
-Dave
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-09-27 15:11:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I really liked the story in Number 2, but didn't really think that it matched the title.
1 was ok.
2 wins.
-Dave
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-09-27 11:23:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by gravitas (user info) at 2006-09-27 09:15:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
guilty
Submitted by WingedFoote (user info) at 2006-09-27 02:48:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
'snot fair! I sort through page after page of crap, and I finally find some good stuff-- well, Incarnate was fantastic, but that's the exception that proves the rule-- and it's matched up. Number two's last line did it for me, though...
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2006-09-26 23:21:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I couldn't resist
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-09-26 20:47:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm sorry, but I hate Inspector Gadget with the fire of a thousand suns. Nothing personal.
I liked #2. Reminded me of an entry in IGKTW.
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2006-09-26 19:36:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-09-26 18:21:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by drgoatcabin (user info) at 2006-09-26 17:57:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Wiggles (user info) at 2006-09-26 17:45:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-09-26 17:31:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:14:47 (#)
Ranking: -2
shorten them to 18 words apiece and resubmit.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Why are you even here, you illiterate cunt?
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-09-26 17:28:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fuck!!! So different, yet both so great!
#1 was hysterical and well thought out. Silly and engaging, with just the right amount of character development for a tale of its nature. This is almost B@W quality...
#2 was one of the greatest short stories I've ever read. It has a sort of universal appeal to it. The title really didn't come into play that much, but I don't really give a damn.
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2006-09-26 16:52:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Comedy is pretty hard to pull off in this competition, and entry one came really close to succeeding at it.
Entry two blew me away.
Submitted by Hirilnara (user info) at 2006-09-26 16:48:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-09-26 14:12:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Dear JonnyX:
"Those who cannot do, teach."
Entry 1 -
Conflict - Dr. Claw has gone insane.
Action - Henchmen sabotage his new upgrade.
Resolution (future) - Dr. Claw is taught a valuable lesson about fucking with the people who manage your shit.
Entry 2 -
Conflict - Main character does not fully understand how he became the man he is today.
Action - He goes and speaks with the man who had the greatest influence on his life.
Resolution (again, future) - He finally comes to grips with who he is, after long talk with banjo player.
Now, since you're obviously an illiterate 'tard, who doesn't know how to read, much less actually write something even close to worth entering in this trivial little competition, how about you stop harassing the big-boy writers and go fuck off and die, mmmk?
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2006-09-26 14:10:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Both did great with the title, in my opinion.
Submitted by TigerLilly (user info) at 2006-09-26 14:08:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:59:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
These were BOTH LONG, BORING, and STUPID.
For next time, remember:
CONFLICT --> ACTION --> RESOLUTION.
Is that so damn hard?
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:58:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
BOTH of these were incredibly LONG, BORING, and STUPID.
Just remember this for next time:
CONFLICT --> ACTION --> RESOLUTION
Submitted by GetNakeddd (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:45:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
jesus christ
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-09-26 13:09:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-09-26 11:58:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2006-09-26 11:44:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-09-26 09:20:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Gotta go with #2 for the heart...
...but "I'M MORTIMER CLAW, BITCH!" made me laugh out loud.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-09-26 09:13:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Was better.
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2006-09-26 09:04:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Number 2 was probably a good serious entry.
But I only had to quickly read it after 1 to know that 1 was going to win.
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-09-26 08:50:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-09-26 08:28:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:30:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bundaberg (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:13:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Bob_Dole (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:07:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-09-26 04:07:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
filename
Submitted by Shaun_Rocks (user info) at 2006-09-26 03:23:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2006-09-26 03:09:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-09-26 02:53:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Both were good.
Two, you fucking rock.
Submitted by BadAssJulie (user info) at 2006-09-26 02:37:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Inspector Gadget
Submitted by SPECIALk (user info) at 2006-09-26 01:55:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
yeah...
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2006-09-26 01:47:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-09-26 01:10:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by satchel (user info) at 2006-09-26 00:49:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2006-09-26 00:45:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2006-09-26 00:19:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-09-26 00:13:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-09-26 00:02:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 2 all the way.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:49:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:47:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:36:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by littledan (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:19:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I didn't think that you'd beat number 1, but that was fucking great. Fuckin A.
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:14:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
shorten them to 18 words apiece and resubmit.
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:14:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by justagirl27 (user info) at 2006-09-25 23:06:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:59:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:59:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:50:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:46:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Number one had its moments, but number two was just flat out well-written.
Submitted by JulsInsane (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:44:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:34:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Can't say I read the second one. Very sorry.
Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:32:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ah well. Thought it would work. Entry one.
Submitted by Confuzitron (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:32:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by maiorano84 (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:31:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Testing something.
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:30:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Yeaaahhhh, #1's joke was seen coming a mile away.
#2 was good though. About a banjo player, but good.
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:27:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:22:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:17:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hahahaha
If you drag the cursor over the links it says who's the author!
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:15:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:08:17 (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93494
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93489
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93485
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93484
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93482
There are way too many missing posts today. Has Bart gone on a deletion spree?
---
Those are UM posts that haven't been put up yet. Foo.
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:14:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Oops sorry, meant to pick the second one. Oh well.
Submitted by forthewin (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:13:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:08:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93494
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93489
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93485
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93484
http://www.ubersite.com/m/93482
There are way too many missing posts today. Has Bart gone on a deletion spree?
Submitted by Gunslinger (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:05:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I can't read, more less vote for inspector gadget, because I actually have seen porn of it.
Thanks 4chan.
Thanks so much.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:03:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2006-09-25 22:00:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:59:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:58:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Entry #2 because I know the feeling.
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-09-25 21:57:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
First Batman and Robin and NOW Penny and Brian?
Gawd.