Whole Again (836 hits)
Category: UberMadness!Rating: 0.19 on 80 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by UberMadness! (View user info) at 2006-10-10 09:23:07 EDT
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This post is officially part of UberMadness!. Click here for more information on the rules and restrictions. |
Entry 1
Rob McCaffrey looked at the old cunt.He was practically prancing off the mortal coil, no shuffling for that old twat. After all he had put him through he didn't even have the fucking decency to die in agony.
"I love you son..... I know I have made some mistakes..." The old man rasped, even his wheezy, strangled voice sounded like an affectation.
"Aye. That you have you old bastard." Rob hissed. "What are you wanting then? Absolution? Forgiveness? I'm no priest."
"I just wanted you to know." The old man leaned on his elbow, his face flushed. "I just wanted you to know that I regret things, I hate the way our lives turned out."
"TURNED OUT? TURNED OUT YOU OLD CUNT?" Rob lowered his voice but the hissing quality this gave his rage made him if anything more menacing. "Turned out? You make it sound like we all had no choice. You make it sound inevitable, like it was out of your filthy perverted hands." He looked around him, the hospital room was peaceful, no peaceful wasn't the right word, the room was in stasis. Even the warm, cloying air felt frozen in time. "You killed her you know, she died of shame."
The old man gave no answer. His son was right, he desired absolution, even now he was calculating, calculating the chances of there being a God and if there was he was computing the chances of this really being a vengeful God or was he the merciful God who forgave all sins if only they were confessed to? Either way through the fog of morphine he felt it important that his son if not forgive him, at least listen to him.
"I hate you. You ruined my life you filthy old bastard. Hurry up and die." Rob left the room.
His face was hard, pale and cold as he barged through the double swing doors. His shoes squeaked on the rubberised flooring as he headed to the elevator, his nostrils full of the peculiarly clean yet ripe hospital odor that is the same in New York, London, Paris and Rome - the smell of masked corruption and clinical hope/despair.
He quickly grew impatient with the wait for the elevator and hurtled himself down the stairs, he needed to get out of there, he needed some fresh air, he needed some sleep but most of all he needed a drink.
It had taken him many years to even acknowledge the, at first, night time visits from his father. The touching that started out gently then became rough. The swimming lessons, the camping trips. His mother knew. How could she not know? How could she watch the outgoing, sunny little boy become the withdrawn, callow youth? The boy whose smile had been so infectious whose scowl had become permanent. He'd screamed out once, he'd fought, he'd shouted so loud that they could have heard him in Africa, his mother couldn't or wouldn't though from the very next room.
Peggy McCaffrey had always enjoyed a drink. That's what killed her in the end, the drink. The afternoon nip got earlier and earlier, the band of sobriety shrank between the twin assaults of earlier drinking and longer hangovers. Soon the band of sobriety lasted long enough for her shaking hands to open the bottle upon waking.
Forty-eight is young to die but Peggy McCaffrey looked like her death was long over due, a blessing. Her casket was open and her face was painted grotesquely. Her made up smile looked absurdly suggestive, her eyebrows arched lecherously.
Rob had always alternated between hate for his mother, hatred that she hadn't stopped his father, and pity. She was so desperate to hold things together, so mindful of appearances that she perversely lost all concept of her own. If ever a human beings psyche was held together with duct tape and chewing gum it was Peggy.
Rob didn't have many friends and that was just how he liked it. He entered the pub alone and left several hours later alone. He walked home alone and slept alone, he wept alone - bitter, hateful, self serving drunk's tears. The kind of tears that feel false even as they sting your cheeks. The kind of tears that you recall with embarrassment, suddenly, many years later out of the blue with a shudder of shame.
The phone had not rung in the night. 'The cunt is still alive then', he thought as he brushed his teeth, gagging back vomit. He'd overdone it last night, again.
He choked down a coffee and picked a banana from the bowl - his usual breakfast.
Gfdsojpgpo'fdjgpojdfspgojdfposjgpodfj
FUCK UBERMADNESS YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF TALENTLESS HACKS I DON'T WANT TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOU LOSERS EVER AGAIN.
- VS -
Entry 2
There is something about the forest at night that I have always found magical. The way the half-eaten moon wraps a dappled silver blanket over the forest floor; the almost imperceptible whispers of wind that rustle the canopy. On a night like this, you can almost sense the pixies and their fairytale counterparts frolicking, just beyond your field of vision.As far as I'm concerned, tonight they can all get fucked.
Gnomes, pixies, bushy-tailed squirrels and this entire fucking forest can burn for all I care. If someone had the foresight to make judicious use of a bulldozer a few years ago, the black tarmac beneath me would be nice and straight, and I would be speeding through the night with my foot to the floor, without having to worry about hairpin bends and sliding sideways off the road into a tangled mess of big fucking trees.
Then again, if eleven years and three months ago I had made more judicious use of my pistol, and put less faith in the security of our prisons, I wouldn't be hurling my Camry around these stupid corners at unsafe speeds at three twenty-seven on this altogether unpleasant Tuesday morning. Hindsight's a bitch.
Corrigan. Walter fucking Corrigan. Killer, kidnapper and Grade A scum. He pulled a knife on me during his apprehension and, regrettably, I only shot his shoulder.
Should've plugged him in the face; no matter how poor the security is you can't break out of prison when you've had a piece of lead rip through your skull.
Instead, I did it by the book. Disarmed him with a non-lethal shot and brought him in. He vowed revenge at the time, and I reminded him that he should be thanking me for sparing his life. I sigh. The moral high ground is worth nothing when you are dealing with immoral people.
Corrigan's gratitude for my mercy was fully expressed this morning when following his prison-break, my eight year old son failed to make it to school.
I got a note - written by my son on a page torn from one of his exercise books. "Please excuse Michael from class, he is spending some time with his Uncle Walter." It was even signed with a (remarkably accurate) forgery of my signature. I made a mental note to discuss that with Mikey at a later date.
I then received a call from a payphone informing me that if I involved anyone else, my son would die. Last time a parent called Corrigan's bluff on that one, he eviscerated a fifteen year old girl. I wasn't going to risk my only child in the same way.
Having a child stolen from you isn't like having your bicycle stolen - or even like having your house broken into and cleaned out. Ultimately material possessions are replaceable, and to a large degree you can live without most of them anyway. Losing a child however is excruciating. Imagine, if you can, having an organ or a limb stolen - a part of you that you can't ever replace. Every moment, you feel the absence. That's what it's like. Right now, there is an empty space within me, and I will not rest until I am whole again.
Despite Mikey's father leaving me for a dental nurse a month into the pregnancy, I resolved to do the right thing. I carried him around for another eight months, spent twenty-two hours and nine agonising minutes in labour and scaled back my work hours so that I could raise him properly.
He truly was a part of me - he was all the family that I had. After everything I've been through, if a bastard like Corrigan thinks he has the right to so much as lay a hand on my boy without spending the best part of a day on his back, legs in stirrups, screaming in pain, he has another thing coming.
Fortunately, I had taken the (some would say paranoid) precaution of sewing a small GPS locator into the lining of my son's schoolbag. I had also taken the liberty of removing a few select items acquired at a recent weapons raid from the evidence locker. I can already imagine the disciplinary shitstorm that will ensue. A price I am willing to pay.
My destination, it seemed, was an industrial estate set on the outskirts of one of those innocuous grey settlements that seem to straddle the line between large town and small city - the kind of place that you would only ever stop if your fuel needle was wilting towards 'Empty' or you really needed to pee.
As the forest thins and the road becomes more manageable, I can see the orange glow of distant lights on the horizon, another twenty minutes of somewhat reckless, but uneventful driving later, I pull to the side of the road two blocks from where the GPS tracker tells me Mikey is being held. The street is completely deserted, save for a pair of stray cats darting between the pools of orange light from the streetlamps above.
Clad entirely in black, with my mousy shoulder-length hair pulled into a tight ponytail, I step from the Camry, check over the small weapons cache concealed on my person and collect the submachine gun from underneath the driver's seat. On loan from our evidence locker, the jet-black AGRAM 2000 instantly reassures me.
I lock the car and pause for a moment to calm my nerves. As unreservedly badass as I look right now, my heart is pounding and the butterflies in my stomach feel like they have been supplanted by miniature velociraptors.
"Okay." I mutter to the cool early morning air "Let's go."
I stay, as much as possible, concealed in the shadows as I steal towards my goal; which presently reveals itself to be a large warehouse of sorts. Judging from the dilapidated state of the building, and half-missing chain link fence, I imagine that it's been abandoned for some time. Black spraypaint on one wall informs me that 'Matt Waz Ere' in '99. Beneath that, red paint reveals that 'Matt eats DICK.'
Ignoring Matt and his purported predilection for penis, I sidle up to a grimy window and attempt to peer in. In the partial moonlight, I can vaguely make out the shapes of boxes and machinery scattered on the warehouse floor. My gaze is caught by a dim light in what I presume was once a supervisor's office, set up on some kind of mezzanine at the far end of the building. All I need is a way in that won't attract too much unwanted attention.
After a brief inspection of the perimeter, my next move becomes obvious. As much as I would like to blow up the large loading bay doors and storm in with flames billowing around me, like a ferocious fusion of Lara Croft and Beatrix Kiddo, in the interest of stealth, I decide to try my luck with the old fire exit at the rear.
Several minutes later, the lock yields to me and I make my way into the darkened building. I carefully close the door behind me and crouch behind some old boxes while my eyes adjust to the darkness.
As far as I can tell, the office I saw earlier is directly above me, and I can make out a set of stairs off to the left. If Corrigan is watching the stairs, he will be able to pick me off with little difficulty. Knowing him, he would probably prefer not to kill me straight away, but I am not sure that I want to take that gamble. Not with my son involved.
My dilemma is resolved by the cool touch of a gun barrel to the back of my neck.
"Drop the gun, Julie."
The bastard knew I was coming here - he must've found the GPS tracker. I silently curse his name as my machine gun clatters to the floor.
"And the other ones."
I remove my pistol from its holster on my waist, and the spare from right boot. That's all my guns gone. I hope he doesn't notice any of the other small bulges in my clothing.
"Turn around slowly."
I turn to face him, anger burning in my eyes - both at him, and myself for allowing myself to get caught. Corrigan chuckles as he meets my gaze.
Once an athletic man, the decade in prison has reduced him to a tall, wiry figure. His hair has greyed and crept halfway back on his scalp; his menacing eyes still shine though, albeit from sunken sockets. He motions to the stairs with the revolver in his right hand.
"After you, let's go and see your little boy."
"Let me bring you in Walter. I'll make sure that your cooperation is taken into consideration. We might even be able to reduce your sentence." No harm in trying for a civil end to this meeting.
"No way in hell."
"This is your last chance Walter. Do as I say. Surrender and we will go easy on you."
"Who the fuck do you think you are? I'm the one with the gun. I don't have to do what you tell me." He shakes the revolver at me. "Now get your ass up those stairs."
I begin trudging towards the staircase.
"What do you want Walter?"
"Revenge." He snorts "Do you have any idea what I've been through?"
"I've read your file." I begin climbing the stairs. His mother was alcoholic and his father was abusive, possibly sexually. Socially inept, he has a fierce temper - which led to many of his crimes, as well as his ultimate downfall. I can't imagine the last decade in prison was much fun either.
It was just another of those tragic life stories that we all seem to be constantly reading about these days. Still, if he thinks he's getting my sympathy, he's in for disappointment.
"How was prison, Walter?" I ask in my sweetest 'How was school today, dear?' voice.
"Shut up."
"Nice roommates?"
"Shut the fuck up, bitch." A little louder that time.
"Were you popular with the big guys? I bet you were. They probably fucked you so much that you don't need to wipe after taking a shit. Doesn't even touch the sides anymore."
"Goddamnit, shut your fucking mouth!" He's yelling now - I must've hit a nerve.
I glance over my shoulder at him, smiling broadly. "Seen a dentist lately, Walter? How many teeth did you lose in your quest to give the perfect blowjob?"
He transfers the revolver to his left hand and slaps my half-turned face with his right. I fall to the stairs and lash out with my legs, connecting solidly with his knees. Struggling to cock the hammer with his left hand, Walter topples backwards down the stairs. He manages to yell something before landing in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.
I reach into my jacket and pull out the grenade I had concealed in one of my pockets, pushing the striker in and yanking out the pin in one fluid motion. I lob it towards Corrigan as he staggers to his feet, and dash up the stairs into the office.
Mikey is lying, tied up and gagged in the corner, his eyes light up as he sees me, and I throw myself over him. The instant my arms envelop him, there is a bright flash, accompanied by a thunderous roar as the grenade explodes. The entire mezzanine shudders violently and the window blows in, showering me with glass. As soon as the impact is over, I pull out my knife and cut my son's bonds, brushing glass off me as I go. I notice the GPS tracker lying on the floor nearby.
Freed, I feel Mikey's arms wrap around me, and I am whole again. The void that was fuelling my revenge is gone, and tears of joy stream down my face. I hold him tight, planting kisses all over his face and head. He looks up at me.
"Where's Uncle Walter?"
I walk to the office window and peer to the bottom of the stairs, Mikey follows me before I can ask him not to. In the darkness, we can make out the crater the explosion left behind, as well as the shape of Corrigan's torso. His legs are probably in small pieces scattered all over the warehouse.
"Whoa." Mikey looks on, incredulous. "What happened?"
I crouch in front of Mikey and look him in the eyes.
"He wouldn't do as he was told, so I had to punish him." His beautiful blue eyes widened.
"You wouldn't ever punish me like that, would you?"
"Of course not honey." I hug him tight, wondering how wrong it really is to use situations like this as part of your parenting strategy. "You know to do what you're told."
Entry 1:
apollo88
darkspoon
EchoBoxing
HotWillie
joedaddy
Method
polyamorousaj
shandythedog
sicosemen
stevie_says
8 eligible votes (10 total) *
Entry 2:
Amontillado
Axolotl
BadAssJulie
BananaPhone
Bellebrown
Bigmike
BLITZKREIG_BOB
bob
calbearspolo
CaptainThorns
charminglybeef
Circe
Coleslaw_Murphy
coley
Confuzitron
Coyote
Crystle
Davros
drgoatcabin
DrogoRoch
Ducky
FunnyAsCancer
Genko
ghola
GodtheFather
goferforhire
helbling
Hirilnara
Impassive-Digressive
indoninja
intellismartness
Jack_McCallum
jgreening
JMG114
JoeyG
JonnyX
justagirl27
kaos-king
lechuza
lolabelly
LT
Magicaddict
MandaPanda
Orgasmatron
peckerhead
rad1101
redskieslookfake
rob_berg
Sacrilicious
scourge
simple_catalyst
sparkle_pink
St_Jimmy
supadupapupa
The_taste_of_Monkeys
49 eligible votes (55 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 supadupapupa (user info) at 2006-10-13 05:52:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Fuck you too entry 1! yeah!
Nice work 2, interesting story...
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2006-10-12 15:11:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-10-12 15:06:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Well this was easy.
Submitted by drgoatcabin (user info) at 2006-10-12 12:29:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
high five to #2. #1 is just retarded. plain and simple
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-10-12 11:30:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Hirilnara (user info) at 2006-10-12 11:12:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If that's what author one wants...
And besides, I loved reading 2!
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-12 09:48:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
hahahahah lisa.
like your opinion is valid.
YOU ARE A WOMAN THEREFORE HAVE NO LITERARY VALUE.
Submitted by Lisa (user info) at 2006-10-11 23:53:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm going to start pointing out where I stopped reading every UberMadness post.
Where I stopped reading Entry 1: Rob McCaffrey looked at the old cunt.
Can more than five of you write stories without the words "cunt," "jism," or "rape"?
Where I stopped at Entry 2: The way the half-eaten moon wraps a dappled silver blanket over the forest floor.
Please.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-10-11 23:36:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
well, if you ignore that Rob's name is changed to walter..
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-10-11 23:32:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
what a coicidence. #2 could be the second half of #1's story.
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2006-10-11 22:45:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by peckerhead (user info) at 2006-10-11 21:05:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 1: Great writing while it lasted; didn't care for your ending. (Same to you.) Of course, Entry 2 gets the vote.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-11 18:20:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
OH - JUST SO THEY DON'T LET ME IN THE NEXT ONE AUTHOR ONE IS ME I AM GOING AGAINST THE SPIRIT OF UBERMADNESS AUTHOR ONE IS APOLLO88 REPEAT AUTHOR ONE IS APOLLO88.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-11 18:17:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2006-10-11 10:03:28 (#)
Ranking: 0
Thats one fucked up moral, but number 1 doesn't actually want to continue.
I'll concede here. """"
DQ???
OMG!
THE DRAMA!
Submitted by calbearspolo (user info) at 2006-10-11 16:27:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Is hacks a racial term?
Submitted by coley (user info) at 2006-10-11 14:40:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm torn. I thought the writing in #1 was much better, but the fucker doesn't want anything to do with UM and other talentless hacks like me, so how can I vote them forward?
#2 was a new idea but silly and unrealistic. The writing was okay.
I guess #2 gets it because #1 doesn't wanna be in anymore.
Submitted by intellismartness (user info) at 2006-10-11 10:03:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thats one fucked up moral, but number 1 doesn't actually want to continue.
I'll concede here.
Submitted by Coleslaw_Murphy (user info) at 2006-10-11 09:43:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry 1 didn't keep my interest even before the meltdown.
Entry 2 was pretty solid.
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-10-11 08:04:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Only because I feel your sentiments.
Submitted by LT (user info) at 2006-10-11 07:35:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
"purported predilection for penis" - Golden Alliteration.
Winner.
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2006-10-11 06:41:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Bellebrown (user info) at 2006-10-11 05:45:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I was so torn by this...
Getting drawn into number 1 and then being cruely subjected to a rant at the end, although amusing to start with, left me feeling empty and bitter. I'd like to request that whoever number 1 is, that they complete that story and then post it in full - because that was a rather awesome start.
Number 2 made me laugh, and was well written, but I have a sneaky suspicion I would have voted for 1 had it been complete.
God job both of you - and dont be so Ghey next time number 1.
Submitted by justagirl27 (user info) at 2006-10-11 01:22:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-10-11 00:50:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I laughed at #1, but neither of these were worth a damn.
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:51:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
nice ending on entry one, i wonder who it could possibly be???
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:51:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:21:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-10-10 22:19:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
#1 - You know, it started out just fine you feeble little cock sucker. It probably would have got my vote, too. As it stands, I hope that this wasn't fiction and that you are a bitter husk of a man because daddy liked to cram his filthy prick in your blood stained ass.
#2 - I could barely finish this. Good thing you went against the repressed faggot above.
Submitted by BananaPhone (user info) at 2006-10-10 21:24:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
#2- Alliteration much?
Although a sentence involving "purported predilection for penis" does grant you an immediate win.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-10-10 21:14:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2006-10-10 21:00:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by BadAssJulie (user info) at 2006-10-10 20:25:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I just saw the last sentence of number 1. I'd like to change my vote to number 1.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:59:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by darkspoon (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:52:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by BadAssJulie (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:44:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Has a picture.
Submitted by Confuzitron (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:42:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Genko (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:10:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:05:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Hahaha! Part of me wanted to vote for entry 1... but just couldn't bring myself to do it.
Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-10-10 19:02:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-10-10 17:50:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Three in a fucking row that throw out horseshit complainits?
AT LEAST USE THE TITLE AND DON'T USE THE POST TO BE A FUCKING DOUCHE.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-10 17:19:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:48:54 (#)
Ranking: 1
well, #1 is obviously Apollo, due to the fact he uses the word 'cunt' about 1546 times..
shut your face cunt.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-10-10 17:18:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by JMG114 (user info) at 2006-10-10 16:39:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Entry two could've done more to bring me into the protagonist's mind. His feelings were mostly by-the-book and cliche. It was a good tale, but I think that it could've been told a bit better. Good job, at any rate.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:48:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
well, #1 is obviously Apollo, due to the fact he uses the word 'cunt' about 1546 times...
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:43:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FUCK UBERMADNESS YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF TALENTLESS HACKS I DON'T WANT TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOU LOSERS EVER AGAIN.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:38:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:33:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2006-10-10 15:20:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow... this would have actually been a pretty close call if author number 1 wasn't such a retard.
Number 2?
Brilliant.
Submitted by indoninja (user info) at 2006-10-10 14:55:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I never thought I would say it, but I am sick of the rape posts.
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-10-10 14:48:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:21:53 (#)
Ranking: 0
What the HELL is going on? Another contest where the winner has formatting issues and the loser submitted crap.
-----------
Are you looking at the same post as me Jack?
Judging by your vote, I don't see the formatting problems, unless you are talking about the dialogue, which was so minor, that it didn't really affect my judgement.
-Dave
Submitted by EchoBoxing (user info) at 2006-10-10 14:05:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
author 1 gets it.
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-10-10 13:40:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:53:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
If people forfeit in the Winner's Bracket, can I move into their place?
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:33:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:33:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Auto-#2.
Submitted by lolabelly (user info) at 2006-10-10 12:16:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by charminglybeef (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:55:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:52:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Well, Entry 2 started off well but died in the last paragraph.
Submitted by GodtheFather (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:45:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:40:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:35:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:21:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What the HELL is going on? Another contest where the winner has formatting issues and the loser submitted crap.
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:21:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i do not like being told to fuck off, so...
#2 was better anyway. boring ass parent hate molestation incest over and over ad nauseam...blah
Submitted by helbling (user info) at 2006-10-10 11:17:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lechuza (user info) at 2006-10-10 10:38:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Im going to be late for reading this
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-10-10 10:33:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
But I'm glad that I *did* go back and read #2.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-10-10 10:32:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
"Gfdsojpgpo'fdjgpojdfspgojdfposjgpodfj
FUCK UBERMADNESS YOU ARE ALL A BUNCH OF TALENTLESS HACKS I DON'T WANT TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOU LOSERS EVER AGAIN."
Didn't even need to bother reading #2 after I saw this.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-10 10:16:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Forty-eight is young to die but Peggy McCaffrey looked like her death was long over due, a blessing. Her casket was open and her face was painted grotesquely. Her made up smile looked absurdly suggestive, her eyebrows arched lecherously. ""
that's a good paragraph right there.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-10-10 10:06:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
That was easy.
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:50:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for entry 1!
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:48:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Davros (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:48:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Wasn't Rob McCaffery a football (soccer) player?
I hated the beginning and the end of entry 1, but really liked the middle.
Entry 2 was so unbelievable it was scary. Grenades, GPS? Jesus give me strength.
I sense Apollo in this contest.
#2 for a reasonably entertaining story despite the suspention of disbelief required.
-Dave
Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:47:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I meant to read #2 first, but I saw the last line of Entry 1.
FTW!
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:41:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:38:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Pity that some people may not read #2 after author 1's outburst. It's excellent, though the picture at the end didn't help a great deal.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:29:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I like the ending of 1, but prefer 2.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:28:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
hahahahaha
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:28:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
why is that a forfeit?
it is a piece that is better than anything else on here until the author obviously loses patience with this whole thing.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:27:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-10-10 09:24:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Interesting choice of forfeit for #1