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NeoGAF Creative Writing Challenge #5 - "The End"

Status
Not open for further replies.
Theme - "The End"

Word Limit -1,000

All submissions that will be counted in the voting process should be in by Wednesday 4/23/2008 by 11:59 PM PST.

The voting will then begin on Thursday 4/24/2008 at 12:00 am PST and go until Saturday 4/26/2008 11:59 pm PST

Previous Challenges:

#1 - "The Things Unseen"
#2 - "An Unlikely Pair"
#3 - "weightless, breathless"
#4 - "On the way"

Basic things to remember:

1) There are many ways to interpret the theme for this assignment, we are all writers or wanna-be writers, so keep that in mind when writing and critiquing others' works.

2) Spelling and Grammatical errors can be used to great effect when the story, characters, and setting demand it. However, proofreading and spell-checking your writing will probably result in a more positive attitude towards it when people are voting.

3) All submissions must be written during the time that the thread began until the due date. We don't want a snippet of your doctoral thesis from 1996 being used here.

4) Only one entry per poster. You can submit and then edit, if you'd like, but finalizing before submitting is highly encouraged.

5) Any writing style is welcome, but remember that most people are probably going to vote for the well written short story over an elementary acrostic poem.

6) There is a handy word count checker at www.wordcounttool.com Nobody wants to be a word count nazi, but please keep it under 1000 words.

7) Thousands of people read GAF, so if you don't want some masterpiece of yours to be stolen and seen in Hollywood a year from now, don't post it on here.

8) Using the topic as the title of your piece is highly discouraged. These challenges get a large number of submissions and if entries share the same titles, it's very difficult for the readers to separate them all out come voting time.

Voting Guidelines:

-Anyone can vote, even those that do not submit a piece during the thread.
-Three votes per voter. Please denote in your voting your 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place votes.
-First place votes count as 3, Second Place votes count as 2, and Third Place as 1 point.
-When voting period ends, votes will be tallied and the winner will get a collective pat on the back and will be in charge of picking a new topic to write about and pick the word length.
-Please read all submissions before voting, it is only fair to those who put in the effort.
-You must vote in order to be eligible to win the challenge.

Have fun!
 

Cyan

Banned
Relix said:
Wanted to work on #4, time got me. Working on this NOW.
Cool. I'm curious to read something from you, after discussing writing in a few previous threads.

Also, beelzebozo, Altered Beast. We going to get you guys back anytime soon?
 

Relix

he's Virgin Tight™
“Nine Days”

“Come here Shenille, baby,” echoed a voice throughout a dark void. The sound of a dog waggling his tail then echoed. Its deep laborious breaths made a lot of noise in that obscure place. The black haired dog, that had stripes of gray fur, finally came into the bonfires light. It was the only beacon of light anywhere in that strange cave. A black man sat by the side of the fire, keeping his rugged arms hot. His gray beard and wrinkled face looked brighter with the fire.

“Come here baby,” he told the dog with a distinct Brooklyn accent. Without hesitation the dog sat by her owner’s side. The man patted her on the head as she replied with gentle touches of her tongue.

“You know, we are running out of wood for fire. This cave is rather empty ya know, even though I spent one week looking for some timber… well, it never appeared. Plus, the food rations are done. We have nothing else baby,” he said to the dog while his eyes got wet.
“Man Shenille! I really wanted to live some more ya know? Go out and travel throughout the whoooole world. Visit those nice places that they showed at Discovery Channel. It was my dream baby, to become a successful man. Guess God is funny and had a different plan for us all. It’s incredible to think that merely nine days ago I was living in an apartment complex, sitting in a comfy couch and watching some documentaries. Nine days to you are like a month right Shenille? Yeah, I remember people said dog years lasted more than human years,” he said with a gentle smile on his face.

“To be honest, I am very glad you are here with me now, baby. Lasting nine days inside this godforsaken tomb would have driven me crazy, but I am glad I found you before I hid in here. It’s incredible to think that in just nine days you have become like the wife I could never have, like the daughter I could never kiss,” the man said while the dog’s eyes started to close. He grabbed a Chef Boyardee can and opened it with a rusty old knife. “Here, eat this before you sleep, I am feeling sleepy too ya know…. Must be that the oxygen is finally dying out.” The dog gently ate whatever the man gave her, savoring every bite she could get. “That’s ma girl!” The man ate what remained of the food. “This tastes like shit you know,” he said throwing the can away, “but something is something!”

He once again stared at the dancing fire in front of him and bit his lower lip. “That was the last food we had girl.” Tears began to slowly fall down his chin. “Guess there really is no one else,” he murmured.

“I wanted to be so much, and I wasted it all joking around. Instead of studying I just spent my time hanging out, looking for girls, playing games, watching documentaries. I was not dumb, but when you are younger there is this peer pressure that you dog’s only get when you are about to mate. Every single day… and I fell for it. My momma wasn’t too happy with it, so after so much time of wasting my life I decided to get a job at a McDonalds. There I spent five years working, happy with the stupid wage they gave me but complaining every day of my life. I wanted those BMW and Jaguars I saw at Wall Street, but I could never get them because I complained every single day that my life sucked, that I would never get to my goals. I put barriers around myself baby, and they held me tight leaving no place for escape. I just whined, and whined, and whined. It’s sad to think that in only thirty four years of life I never got married. Look at me now, in just nine days I look like the old man next to my apartment. In just nine days I realized all the time I had wasted, I finally figured out what I wanted to do and I had the determination to do so. Sadly… I won’t be going anywhere,” he told the dog. Finally, he stood up.

“Guess we will never learn to appreciate our time in this Earth. We don’t know to appreciate anything, we just complain every fucking day of our lives.” He stared at a wall by his side that hosted a stair that went upwards. Standing over some rails he reached for it, holding tight.

“I am having a hard time breathing Shenille,” he complained, staring back at the dog who replied with a bark. “You too, huh? Heh, I tried to fight so I could live and finally do what I realized I want to do with my life, but it’s too late now. We have finally done it, after so many years, we finally did it. Guess there is no reason into fighting anymore right girl?” He let go of the rusty stairs and walked towards the dog, giving her a gentle kiss over her dirty head. “Love ya, baby.” Shenille replied with few licks to the face.

“No one will save us now, because…. They are all dead. It’s time, baby.” He grabbed the dog under his right arm, and went up the stairs using only his left arm and his legs. Balancing he moved away some locks, finally pushing the iron plate over his head.
He popped his head out and took a deep breath. The strange orange gas was quickly inhaled. His last sights, with tearful eyes, were those of a city in ruins, with a poisoned gas in the air. No single being around.

“We killed ourselves,” were the last words he muttered as Shenille’s eyes slowly closed.

The End


I challenged myself to write this in under 2 hours and I seem to have pulled it off. If I would had 500 additional words it would have been more complex... but then again I feel I kinda pulled it out, though I had to cut out words to make it work. My writing style is kinda strange, but oh well :lol . Hope you guys like it, don't be too hard on me!
 
Relix said:
“Nine Days”

Going right for the post-apocalypse, I see!

I definitely see shades of I Am Legend in there, probably because of NYC and the dog. It's depressing, but that goes with the territory, although it seemed a bit too...preachy? I get what you're going for, but it kind of felt like the message was a bit too forced. It's interesting, though, and the relationship between the man and his dog is well done, as is the ending.

Pretty good stuff!
 

Relix

he's Virgin Tight™
Great Rumbler said:
Going right for the post-apocalypse, I see!

I definitely see shades of I Am Legend in there, probably because of NYC and the dog. It's depressing, but that goes with the territory, although it seemed a bit too...preachy? I get what you're going for, but it kind of felt like the message was a bit too forced. It's interesting, though, and the relationship between the man and his dog is well done, as is the ending.

Pretty good stuff!

You know, I never watched or read I Am Legend :lol . Pure coincidence there I swear. And yeah.... I kinda wanted a monologue with the man and the dog, but I kept adding details here and there to establish a deeper relation with the reader. Who knows, it might knock a bell for someone out there. Glad you liked it though :D
 

JCX

Member
I haven't done one of these since the first one. Another poem

110 words

"Indifference"

Indifference
in his ears ring each platitude
produced by his peers
proclaiming a future return to stability
These words cause him pain
pain
seen in the pupil of each eye
Inside
He is tired
a tortured mind
in a broken body
intent on shutting down
as procedures prolong his pain
instead of being the panacea he craved
Outside
He raises holy hands to
music so contrary to his predicament
that he can barely stand it
His head drops as he bows not to a king,
but in submission to the pain of being human
Clinging to his last seconds
he finally embraces positivity
as he embraces the ultimate indifference
Nonexistence.
 

nitewulf

Member
word count: 1000 (MS Word)

The Blazer

The Blazer stared at the beautiful blonde sleeping next to him. She opened her eyes, he stared into them as she stared back. Her long lashes seemed to invite an extended getaway into the shimmering brilliance of her eyes.

The Blazer looked at the table watch. 8:30 PM. It was time to go.

“Can’t you stay in tonight?”

“It doesn’t work that way kid. Just because I’m sleeping with the boss’ wife doesn’t mean I won’t watch his back.”

“What’s the big deal anyway? Just a Friday night business deal.”

“May be, it’s still my duty to protect him. You won’t understand.”

“Heh, I’m sure he won’t miss one gunman out of the whole pack of thugs hovering around him all the time. Though they say you’re pretty fast at that. Still you’re just another match in the box, waiting to be lit, Blazer.”

“He pays me to protect him, and I do it at any cost. Like I said, you won’t get it.”

“Right, right, samurai stuff huh?”

“Lock the door behind you when you leave.”

The Blazer walked into his closet, took out his twin Glock 19s and caressed their smooth, metallic barrels. The nooks and crannies of the grips matched the nooks and crannies of his hands.

He fixed his tie and walked out.

A cool breeze blew in from the sea as he pulled up along the warehouse. A row of expensive, foreign cars glinted in the pale moonlight. Loose, shadowy forms tightened as he approached. They relaxed again as he walked closer, they were of the same pack.

“What’s up Blazer?”

Vincenzo “Pretty Boy” Flores was nervous. This was the first time he was a part of something big.

“Where’s the boss?”

“Inside. Man I can’t wait till this shit is over and done with and we’re downing Silver Patron while getting blowjobs from hot Puerto Rican mamis.”

“Relax Vinnie, standard interstate partnership meeting. We provide easy access to the docks, they give us more coke. It’s a cinch.”

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so man. I just wanna get this over with already.”

The Blazer walked inside as oncoming engines rumbled closer.

He knocked on the thick wooden doors of the office,

“Boss, it’s on.”

“Come in Blazer.”

David Korovin was sitting behind a mahogany desk. The room was furnished with old, wooden furniture and it smelled like the sea. The back door creaked and shuddered along with the wind.

The Blazer calculated. The bosses will sit face to face. Mark De Souza will want to have his own gunmen in the room. A few will remain outside. He went and stood against the corner wall facing the front door.

The stuttered knocks were expected.

“Boss, they are here.”

“Show them in, Vinnie.”

Vinnie opened the door as Mark De Souza walked in with his pack.

“David, long time no see. How’s business?” His shrewd eyes glanced at Blazer and figured him like only old hands can.

“Mark. Good to see you, sit down. There was no need to bring an army.”

De Souza smiled crookedly and pointed at two of his men and told the rest to leave the room.

Vinnie stood next to The Blazer.

“Vinnie, how many total?” He whispered to Vincenzo.

“Including the ones that walk in? eight total, save De Souza.”

That left six outside to their three.

“Vinnie, tell Steve to come in.”

“You don’t think I can handle this Blazer?”

“It’s not about that kid. You watch them like a hawk, and stay the fuck away if anything goes wrong. The less confusion inside the better for me. Go.”

Vinnie walked off.

The meeting went underway as Steve walked in. One gunman covered Blazer, the other took Steve. Numbers were mentioned. Samples were passed back and forth. Sexual comments were made about respective mothers. It went well. Both bosses stood up and shook hands.

“David, how about a shot of vodka to celebrate our new partnership?”

“Fine.”

“Rodriguez, bring in the vodka.”

“Sure boss.”

Rodriguez stepped back.

He was lighting quick, faster than anyone Blazer saw before as shiny metal glinted away from his flapping coat-tails.

“Nix kid, you were always covered.” Blazer shot him through the left eye. He moved away, quicksilver, as Steve slouched over. Gunshots tore into Steve’s body as the second gunman let loose. The bullets thundered past Blazer's face, scorching his sideburns. He shot the second man through the neck while covering Mark.

“I could use someone like you kid.” Mark had a Berretta at Korovin’s head. Another at The Blazer.

Blazer shot Mark through the head. Twice.

Two seconds passed since Rodriguez drew.

Outside, gunshots went off like a Hollywood blockbuster.

“Fucking son of a whore. Let’s leave through the back Blazer.”

Korovin walked towards the backdoor and opened it before The Blazer could do anything. The silenced shots sounded like someone’s idea of a bad joke. Korovin fell over like a brick-wall regardless.

The Blazer walked behind the desk and covered both doors.

“Blazer, don’t shoot.”

She stepped in slowly.

“Look, I am dropping my piece.” She dropped her gun on the floor. Her pearl-white silk shirt hung loose, caressing the curves at exactly the right places. She was impeccable under the pale moon.

“Why kid?”

“Why be the boss’ wife, when you can be the boss.”

Vinnie rushed in through the front door, Blazer almost shot him but lowered his gun at the last instant.

“You didn’t think I could do it huh Blazer, those god-dammed sons of…”

Bullets ripped through his face. It wasn’t pretty anymore.

“Goodbye Blazer. I tried to warn you.”

She shot The Blazer twice through the chest.

It was done. She felt light and warm. And wet. Blood gushed out of her neck as she stared down in disbelief at her silk shirt. Pearl-white gave way to crimson, like wildfire across a forest. She died not believing.

“You didn’t get it kid, you were always covered.” The Blazer fell over backwards and died staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was cracked and moldy, remnant of an era long past.
 

Relix

he's Virgin Tight™
^ Well that was pretty good. It kinda got a bit too "noisy" in the middle point and I got stupidly lost, but by the end I figured it out. Good ending, though its a shame the word count limited any great action choreography. You tried, and it worked, so it's cool.

Now I have two complaints:
1) Every Mafia story has a Vinnie
2) Why did it have to be Puerto Rican mamis? :lol :lol (I am Puerto Rican, but its cool, its for the effect I know!)

Don't take the complaints seriously, just trying to cheer up the thread a bit! (though I am Puerto Rican....=D)
 

nitewulf

Member
to tell you the truth, it was supposed to be cliche, as, the word count really prohibits experiments, i wanted to try my hand at genre fiction and see if i could write something tight within the limit. my intention wasn't to be too creative, rather tell a standard tale fast and well.
as for the other stuff, i'm a brooklynite...i love hispanic women. what can i say. ;)
 
Relix said:
2) Why did it have to be Puerto Rican mamis? :lol :lol (I am Puerto Rican, but its cool, its for the effect I know!)

Don't take the complaints seriously, just trying to cheer up the thread a bit! (though I am Puerto Rican....=D)

Are you from the states or from the island?
 

AlteredBeast

Fork 'em, Sparky!
Sorry guys, new job has been crazy! Making a lot of money, but time has been significantly drained! An idea sparked in my head after reading the title, though. So, I will definitely try and get some writing done. I hope everything has been going well since the second one, the last one I had time to read.
 

Cyan

Banned
AlteredBeast said:
Sorry guys, new job has been crazy! Making a lot of money, but time has been significantly drained! An idea sparked in my head after reading the title, though. So, I will definitely try and get some writing done. I hope everything has been going well since the second one, the last one I had time to read.
Awesome!

You should go back when you get a chance, some of the entries for the last two were pretty sweet. I particularly liked Cyan's entry for the last one. ;)
 

Aaron

Member
Cyan said:
Awesome!

You should go back when you get a chance, some of the entries for the last two were pretty sweet. I particularly liked Cyan's entry for the last one. ;)
LOL Self promotion in the third person. :D

I have an idea for this one that will almost certainly run too long, but I'll make a go anyway.
 

Davedough

Member
~Ice Cream Man~

Chuck sat alone on his bed, awaiting what had inevitably been his outcome. He sat in bewilderment that after all the time had slowly passed, that his day was finally upon him. Staring blankly at the concrete slab floor, tracing imaginary lines from the countless stains made from God knows what, he reflected on the events that transpired 25 years ago.

After his work week was complete at the grain mill, Chuck looked forward to his weekends. He wouldn't be surrounded by the musty dry odor of cultured grain as it makes its way deep into the silo. He'd be free. Free to breathe in fresh air and delight in the wonders of the day while listening to the endless repetitive chime of his ice cream truck. On weekends, both for the sheer pleasure of it and for the extra income, Chuck would put on his freshly pressed uniform and greet the day with iconic melodies that would send children running after him from blocks away. With cash and coin clutched in their eager hands, he would delve out delights to each of them and revel in the joy that he brought to the masses. He was a God to the young people, although he would never presume to put himself on that high of a pedestal. He merely enjoyed seeing them beam at him with different colored confections dripping merrily down their fingers while their tongues chase each rogue drip. When each child was satisfied, he'd tip his hat and slowly pull away.

As the weekends past, he began to notice a young girl always on the outskirts of the other children. Always watching from a distance as the other children squealed in delight, yet never participating in their endeavors. How curious. She couldn't be more than 7 years old. "What child doesn't like ice cream?" he thought to himself. For some time, he'd brush off that notion, but in time it really intrigued him why every day, the same girl would be poised in the distance watching.

One bright and especially hot Saturday, she stood as she always did, dressed in a fine blue dress obviously purchased out of love and too fancy to be allowed for play. Again she watched and this time, Chuck waited for all of the other children to depart and he called out to her. "Well Hello there. What's your name?"

A look of shock came over the girls face and she studdered but managed to choke out. "Mel... Melinda."

"Well then Melinda, that's a very pretty dress you have on. Is it your birthday?"

"No. My Papa said he saved up his money and got me something pretty."

"Well, you are very lucky to have someone who cares about you that much."

Unsure of how to respond, she stood there staring up at him. Uncomfortable with the silence, he finally asked her. "Say, when everyone else is getting ice cream, why don't you ever come over and see me?"

"I ain't got no money and Mommy says that I shouldn't waste what we got on sweets. She gets angry when I ask for money. So its better if I just dont ask."

"Oh, I see." Not wanting to press any harder, he let it go and offered her a blow pop, on the house. Her eyes lit up in amazement and she graciously accepted his gift.

Months go by with every Saturday being the same thing. Melinda and Chuck would talk for a bit and she'd get her choice of a free ice cream. Chuck really enjoyed their interaction as life had not always been kind enough to him. He has never married and never has had the joy of his own child. Melinda offered him true companionship and he loved her for it. Joy for the price of an ice cream.

Towards the end of the season one Saturday, Melinda wasn't there. Three weeks go by and still, no Melinda. Chuck missed her and began to worry. Finally, she showed up and the normal bright and cheerful little girl was replaced with a sodden and sunken shell. "Mommy knows about our talks. She don't like it one bit. She hit me for it. I can't see you anymore cause she says you're a pervert and you're gonna hurt me." With tears in her eyes, she waved goodbye and ran back towards her house.

Enraged, Chuck speeds through the neighborhood passing anxious children awaiting their daily treat and goes to his house. He cant help the feelings welling up inside of him. "Pervert?" he spits out of sheer disgust. "How could that drunk of a woman suggest such a thing?!? I've done more for Melinda in four months than that whore has done in her entire lifetime." Stewing in his own hatred and acting on the will of something dark, he leaves his home a changed man.

Barging into Melinda's house, he sees that she is nowhere around. "Probably for the best" he thinks to himself as he makes his way to where he hears her mother on a telephone call, completely unaware of the intrusion. As he crests the archway into the kitchen, Melinda's mother turns on her heels and shrieks as a strange man with tears streaming down his face lunges towards her and wraps his hands around her neck. Squeezing, pinching, closing his fingers together he can feel her pulse quicken then slowly fade. Death twitches overcome her body before Chuck releases his grip. "Hello, Gerty, what happened? Gerty are you Ok?" is heard from the telephone receiver.

Now, 25 years later, Chuck has had plenty of time to recount for his sins. He's held up foolish notions, even to this day, that Melinda would visit him in his cell and thank him for ridding her of such evil. He wonders what she looks like as the pastor reads verses from the Bible. The Warden enters his cell. "Mr. Rehbock, its time." Chuck stares at the concrete slab floor, tracing imaginary lines for the final time. His end had come.
 

2DMention

Banned
Nothing immediately hits me for this particular writing assignment. Maybe I'll try to squeeze out a poem if the urge strikes me later.
 

Aaron

Member
Bob the Collector
word count: 997

"Not another upgrade," David lamented, looking up from the scattered legal briefs as his roommate strode through the door, telltale bag with the blue and white PC Experience logo mangled by the folds of fragile plastic. "You've got two computers and an laptop gathering dust in the closet, either one capable of running that damn MMO you're obsessed with."

"Those of little knowledge never hesitate to flaunt their ignorance," Pete remarked philosophically as he pushed back his glasses and dumped the bag on the table. "The website that pays my share of the rent demands sustenance, so I needed to slot a few more drives into the raid array. Besides, Bob is coming by to pick up those outdated contraptions this afternoon."

"Bob?" David repeated as the doorbell rang.

*

"Dual processor, isn't it? Can't take this one," Bob announced after studying the cases of the two desktops with a craftsman's eye before setting one aside. He was a middle-aged man, squat and able bodied, clad in overalls and a trucker's cap, and a fringe of scraggily brown beard growing on his chin.

Piled in the back of his pickup truck was a clutter of computer equipment, with towers, monitors, wrapped bundles of keyboards, and a few reel to reels. Two similarly dressed men sat silently in the cab, one clean cut and young and the other old and grey.

"You didn't have a problem with my mom's busted Mac, or that old Commodore 64 I got when I was eight," Pete noted.

"Can't do anything with the duals or the quads. Nearly filled up on this load anyway," Bob replied with a slow shrug of indifference as he stuck the desktop under one arm and the laptop under the other, hauling them back to the truck while the older man fired up the tired old engine.

*

"Doesn't fall into the IT stereotype." David looked up from the yellow pages in his lap as his roommate reentered. "I don't see any sort of listing for Bob the computer junk man either."

"It's all word of mouth. Just about everyone in IT has heard of Bob, so it's easy to get a hold of him, even though he changes his number at least once a year," Pete answered with a shrug as he scoured the fridge for something healthy.

"What does he do with all of that? Where does it all go?" David pressed, unwilling to let this mystery slide.

Pete stared back at his roommate in silence for several moments before answering with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Once he takes it away, it's no longer my problem."

"What's his number?" David asked while glancing at his own laptop, and the tracking device loaned to him for an upcoming case, small enough for the computer's battery compartment.

*

"I don't see why I had to be the one to wait," Pete grumbled as he piled into the passenger seat of his roommate's Prius. "Why did you want Bob to pick up your laptop anyway? I thought you were going to use that thing until doomsday."

"People don't run a business from the back of a truck and change their number unless they have something to hide," David remarked as he revved the engine, wheel in one hand and tracking locator in the other. The familiar cityscape soon faded into the pastoral hills and scattered greenery, with long straight roads stretching to the horizon. The truck was in the distance as they listened to the now steady bleep of the locator. Then Bob turned a corner, passing behind a cluster of trees and failing to emerge on the other side, while the locator fell silent.

"Where the hell did he go?" David shouted in anger as he slammed the steering wheel while his Prius came to a stop at the spot the truck had vanished, since there was no sign of it or anything for miles. Teeth gritted, David started up the engine again, and with an audible 'thump' they were gone.

*
Grey sand illuminated by truck lights. David and Pete pressed their faces to the windshield to see a semi-circular parking lot of beaten trucks hauling and dumping disused computers before a strange, jagged mountain. Stars twinkled upon it, while the sky remained a solid black.

Pete slowly stepped from the car to peer at the small army of workers here. There must have been at least eighty of them, some no more than small boys, others old men whose movements were slow and stiff, but they all wore the same overalls. "Bob?"

"Yeah?" came a deafening chorus as every head turned in his direction, giving the same look of mild indifference.

*

"Last human alive. Long, long ways ahead of your time," Bob-43, as he identified himself, explained while escorting them up to the mountain. "So They chose me for this, chose one of me for every year I would have lived. This universe is about done with, so They wanted something that'll kick start the next. I've been gathering up those unwanted computers, and networking all together. Only single processors work with the program though, which is why we've been hitting your time."

"They?" David repeated.

Pete wasn't even listening. He was watching as one Bob set his old desktop in its place on this computer-made mountain, turning it on to let its own power light twinkle. How long it had taken them to build this he couldn't guess. He could only estimate the number of machines at a few billion.

"Only need to enter the run command now," Bob-43 remarked with a bit of pride as he stared up at a lifetime's work. "Want to see the birth of a new universe?"

Pete glanced over at his roommate, whose sense of wonder and mystery had been crushed by the dregs of humanity he was appointed to defend, but David only shrugged with a hint of a smile and said, "I haven't got anything better to do."
 

Davedough

Member
That 1000 word limit is tough. There's so much detail that has to be cut out to make it. Frustrating, but fun. C'mon people, lets get the good posted.
 

Shoho

Banned
It ain't rape if you can't prove it or how I learned to use lube


Once upon a time,
in a country far away(Asia),
there lived a young man called Swiffer.

Swiffer was strong of heart and reckless.
He was a good lad, and everyone loved him.
He was the most liked person in his entire village(Hong Kong)
until one day, where he saw the most beautifuliest girl ever.
Her name was Stacy and she was the daughhter of Mao,
who was the leader of the village.
Swiffer knew instantly that he loved Stacy, but he also knew,
That Mao would never allow Swiffer to get Stacys hand.

So the young, and cunning Swiffer thought of a plan.
One day at midnight, while Stacy was sleeping,
he sneeked into her room because he wanted to rape her.
He took his big Schlong and penetrated her. But then something happened!
She screamed! "Awww it itches.. its like getting drilled by cactus, please
soothen the pain with your saliva or I will become red downstairs"!
Swiffer became scared. He did not expect the young lady to wake up.
He decided to run, because if Mao found out, he would have his balls on a plate.


Swiffer ran away from his village, and became a video game designer,
at a company called EA. And it is said, that sometimes,
even to this day, that Swiffer and his friends still rape their customers,
eternally ever after.


End.
 

Scribble

Member
Davedough said:
That 1000 word limit is tough. There's so much detail that has to be cut out to make it. Frustrating, but fun. C'mon people, lets get the good posted.

Yeah, I know. I'd be happily typing, 300 words, thinking that I have PLENTY of space left to tell my story. Then, a few minutes later, I'm at 700 and being extremely cautious, and glancing at the word count bar after each sentence. It's mad.

But yeah, I like the challenge. I'd like to get to the point where I can write a story that is supposed to be 1000 words, as opposed to a 1000 word piece that's really the abridged version of a 3000 story, which is where I keep failing.
 

bengraven

Member
I've wanted to participate, but I'm a bit nervous to. I've always felt I was a good writer (I'd say "people always tell me I am", but we all know friends will tell you that) and have, um, nearly published novels, but GAF is harsh. I'm also rusty.

I dunno...
 

Davedough

Member
bengraven said:
I've wanted to participate, but I'm a bit nervous to. I've always felt I was a good writer (I'd say "people always tell me I am", but we all know friends will tell you that) and have, um, nearly published novels, but GAF is harsh. I'm also rusty.

I dunno...

Last week was the first time I entered and I'm not a writer by any means. I was nervous too, but from what I've seen, the regulars that come into this thread are pretty fair. Now I'm excited at each week's entry. I came into work today prepared to look for the new topic and was excited to see that it was up. You'll get constructive criticism, but I've yet to see anyone review another work and be an asshole about it. Give it a shot, you get into it and its actually kinda fun. If someone on here is a jerk about it, fuck em. That's what ignore lists are for. =)

C'mon, we need good writers to band together for the sake of written word.
 

bengraven

Member
Davedough said:
Last week was the first time I entered and I'm not a writer by any means. I was nervous too, but from what I've seen, the regulars that come into this thread are pretty fair. Now I'm excited at each week's entry. I came into work today prepared to look for the new topic and was excited to see that it was up. You'll get constructive criticism, but I've yet to see anyone review another work and be an asshole about it. Give it a shot, you get into it and its actually kinda fun. If someone on here is a jerk about it, fuck em. That's what ignore lists are for. =)

C'mon, we need good writers to band together for the sake of written word.

Yeah, you convinced me. Now to come up with a fairly creative way to talk about "The End". :D
 

Cyan

Banned
bengraven said:
I've wanted to participate, but I'm a bit nervous to. I've always felt I was a good writer (I'd say "people always tell me I am", but we all know friends will tell you that) and have, um, nearly published novels, but GAF is harsh. I'm also rusty.

I dunno...
Go for it, it'll be good to get the rust off.

Just don't put a disclaimer at the start of your story, or I'll make irritable comments.


Hmm, I'm getting the glimmerings of an idea here... let's see where I can take this.
 

hellclerk

Everything is tsundere to me
Sorry Front

“Oi. Oi!” a voice called. “Get your shit together Aberson, we’re still on duty you know.”

I groggily sat up. There was a pain in my neck from the concrete wall of the small, two man pillbox. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing really, same as always.” The soldier sitting at the machine gun had a soft round face, covered a bit in grime and dirt. Neither of us had really showered for a while. His face was gentle, but his eyes were tense.

“Then what did you wake me up for?” I asked, still groggy.

“Well, you never know when we might be attacked, so I don’t want to end up with a jam because someone wasn’t feeding the belt right.”

“Pfft. You really think someone is gonna attack? Geeze, our guys made it into the enemy capitol just yesterday, this fucking war is damn close to over with.” I leaned back into the concrete wall again and muttered a bit, “Damn I envy those guys, hot showers, good food, nice city babes…”

“You gonna stop rubbing it in that we’re on the sorriest front of this war?” My peer lined up the sight of the MG, looking around with it a bit. He stopped and looked up. “You think they’re gonna let us go home soon?”

“God I hope so. I don’t want to be on this front another second. Would really suck to be the last guy to die in this war.”

The private went back to his aiming. “Yeah, sure would.” He stopped and turned around again. “Hey, I thought you didn’t think anyone would attack.”

I gave a sly smile. “Nah, I mean from this shit they’ve been giving us to eat for the past three weeks.”

That drew a laugh and he turned back to the MG once again. His smile faded though, and he spoke again, “Though, I don’t really know if I want to go back home now, you know?” I had an idea… “I mean, everyone is gonna want to hear the stories of me out here, and well, I – I – I don’t think I can tell them. Y – ya know what I mean?”

My face contorted into a frown. “Yeah… I do.” EXACTLY what he meant. “Well,” I joked. “Maybe that slop they keep giving us WILL kill us.”

He managed to crack a smile. “Ya know, I have a daughter at home.”

“What? Really? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“Well, you never really asked…”

“I asked if you was married.” I definitely asked him that before. His response was a half-sheepish smile. “Oh wait, you mean Private Goody-to-shoes Pete Guile gone and knocked up a girl outa wedlock? This is too much!” I started laughing a bit, but it was clear that through his embarrassment he was smiling genuinely.

“Yeah well, this war has taught me a lot of important things. Maybe I can go back and take responsibility for something finally.” I couldn’t help but admire the little punk. I guess war doesn’t always bring out the worst.

Static fuzzed on handheld radio next to our rifles. “You guys ok out there?”

I grabbed it before Pete could and responded, “Yes Sir, Capt’n.”

“Good, ‘cause we got your replacements coming and a nice juicy steak waiting for you here, courtesy of the local farmers.”

“Over and out sir, see you there.” And then I said to my partner, excitement unveiled, “Hey, looks like we won’t die tonight from food poisoning.”

I got another chuckle. We grabbed our rifles and headed for the door. we left the radio there for the next group. Camp was only a half mile behind the line and we didn’t have many working ones left.

We stepped outside. Two more soldiers were making their way towards the pillbox, bullshitting, dull green fatigues melding with the overcast late afternoon. “Heyya Sarge!” he was the one lighting the fag.

“Hey boys,” he called in his sultry voice. “Left the radio, right?”

“Yeah, it’s in there.” Pete motioned behind himself towards the box.

“Alright, you boys enjoy the steak. The Captain made sure to set a couple good pieces aside for you. Being out her in the ruff and all.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Pete said.

“Well don’t thank me, I was about to snipe those things without a second though,” the Sergeant said with a laugh. The two ducked into the pillbox and we started back.

A large explosion.

Both me and Pete were thrown off our feet and on the ground. The pillbox behind us was aflame from a mortar we never even heard. Gunfire could be heard from the treeline in the distance and the pillboxes a little along the way. I noticed something warm and sticky on my hands and I looked down. Blood. There was a large piece of shrapnel out my back and through my chest. Funny, I didn’t feel anything. Before I knew it Pete was standing over me in tears screaming something. He looked grimier, but relatively unhurt. I couldn’t really hear much, and there was a loud ringing in my ears from the explosion. Even the gunfire sounded distant and echo-like. I suddenly understood what was going on. My body froze with fear, fear of death, fear of injury, just cold, angry fear. I almost said don’t leave me, but a combination of blood and uncertainty caught the words in my throat. Pete has got to get out of here. I still couldn’t talk so I just kept mouthing leave me leave me. I think he was calling desperately for a medic or something, I couldn’t tell, my vision and hearing were going down the tubes. I gave one more force to see clearly, and I saw a mortar shell, as if a snapshot, falling down right over Pete’s shoulder.

END
Word Count: 982

hope you guys enjoy this. so you all know, this isn't based on any particular war. or any particular nation. just a story.
 
This is the End.

This is the End.

All the years of fighting for rights and freedom amount to nothing. Our cries and dreams are dashed. Our fears are realized to variable extents.

This is the End.

No one saw it coming. That's not true. Everyone with a sound mind saw it coming. But we ignored for our own sanity. Maybe it was not wise but we enjoyed our last few years. The assassination started it all. As the first body hit the floor, we wondered what would happen next. Were we being toyed with? Is this an act of God? Is there a God?

This is the End.

Everyone lives for this day. Our deaths mean everything. But were we only important because we left others behind? Is that our impact to the world? A mere ripple effect? If so consider us a sad race. The fanatics are embracing the final days. This is their joy, their moment of glory.

This is the End.

What killed us? Nukes? Even Kubrick wouldn't be amused. Greed? Maybe. The greed of few left the many to rot. The assassination began it all. When the chief of the supposedly powerful USA fell to the floor, we knew it.

This is the End.

Who killed him? Isn't it obvious? The terrorists. Which ones? The crazy Christian bastards? The radical muslims? The mysterious Jews? No. One even worse. Fear itself. We killed him and we enjoyed it.

This is the End.

As we jump into the abyss to our inevitable death we hold many regrets. But it doesn't matter anymore.

This is the End.
 

Aaron

Member
Phthisis said:
Aaron, you ever read Isaac Asimov's short story "The Last Question"?
Nope, though I'm sure my story idea has been done in different forms any number of times before.
 

Desperado

Member
I had to put this here :)
The Beatles said:
Oh yeah, alright
Are you gonna be in my dreams
Tonight?

Love you, love you
Love you, love you
Love you, love you

And in the end
The love you take
Is equal to the love
You make
 

Davedough

Member
Relix - Overall, well done. I liked what you were doing there, but it was a bit predictable. Solid entry though.

JCX9 - I'm usually the type that doesn't "get" poetry, but I really enjoyed that. Nice work.

nitewulf - Another keen entry by you. I really wish you could have had another 1000 words to flesh out some more of those action scenes. I could see the whole thing play out. Great work.

Aaron - Very interesting concept. I liked it. I could tell about halfway through that Bob was going to be what he was, but I enjoyed the story.

Shoho - I see what you did there.

doomed1 - Overall a good entry, but a couple of things. The food poisoning joke could have been trimmed down a bit. It felt a bit overused. And the ending, although probably a fault of the word limit, felt a bit rushed. I fully understand the gravity and spontaneity of the situation, but it just kind of felt thrown together. Good piece though.

miyamotofreak - Umm.. sure.

Overall I think we've got some good entries so far this week. I cant wait to read more from some of the regulars and hopefully some new people.
 

Cyan

Banned
To: support@heaven.org
Subject: Return?

Dear Customer Service,

I was told when I first arrived that I would have the option to leave, and have another go at everything. Is there someone in particular I need to talk to? What exactly do I need to do to take advantage of this option?

Thank you in advance for your help.

Regards,
Sid Archer

***

To: sarcher55@hmail.org
Subject: Re: Return?

Dear Valued Customer,

Thank ye for your email. Your questionſ are important to uſ! Support receiveth a high volume of correspondence, and we hope ye will understand if it takeſ uſ some time to respond to your query.

For answerſ to most common questionſ, please see our FAQ at http://www.heaven.org/faq-main.htm

Thank Ye,

Customer Service

***

To: gabriel@heaven.org
CC: support@heaven.org
Subject: Fwd: Re: Return?

Dear Mr. Gabriel,

I write to advise you of an unsatisfactory experience I had recently. I have been a long-time customer and often recommended your product to others, but this latest experience has soured me.

I emailed customer service with what I thought was a very simple and basic question. I received the attached boilerplate response, and when I heard nothing else for two weeks, I emailed them again. I still have not gotten any kind of reply, and the FAQ is no help. I am disappointed by this apparent lack of caring. The email I got says that my questions are important to you, but the lack of any response shows that this is clearly not the case.

Can someone please respond to my question? It’s very simple—I just want to know what I need to do in order to leave.

And I trust that in future, customer service will be more responsive.

Sincerely,
Sid Archer

***

To: sarcher55@hmail.org
Subject: Re: Fwd: Re: Return?

Dear Mr. Archer,

I thank ye for notifying me of your concernſ. Please understand that Support receiveth a high volume of correspondence, and we cannot alwayſ respond to querieſ in aſ timely a manner aſ we would like.

For the answer to your question, please see our FAQ at http://www.heaven.org/faq-main.htm

Thank Ye,

Gabriel

***

To: aamichael@heaven.org
CC: gabriel@heaven.org; raphael@heaven.org; uriel@heaven.org; selaphiel@heaven.org; jegudiel@heaven.org; barachiel@heaven.org; metatron@heaven.org; support@heaven.org
Subject: Fwd: Re: Fwd: Re: Return?

Dear Mr. Michael,

This is getting ridiculous. I have now gotten dozens of non-answers or non-responses. Your subordinates are just giving me the runaround.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for this place. The food and scenery are great. But I don’t get along with my neighbors, I keep breaking strings, and I wasn’t married before arriving here, so I’m, what, single for all eternity? (yeah, yeah, I read the FAQ on that one, I know the reasons behind it—it’s still frustrating)

All I want is to have another chance at things. I was told that leaving was possible when I first arrived here, and now no one will tell me how to do it! That’s all I ask—that you hold to your promises.

Mr. Michael, please help. I would really like a straight answer on this one.

-Sid Archer

***

To: sarcher55@hmail.org
Subject: Re: Fwd: Re: Fwd: Re: Return?

Mr. Archer-

I understand that thou art concerned about thiſ issue, but I must ask that thou stoppest emailing my staff about it. I hope that thiſ response will addreſs all of thy concernſ.

I am appalled that incorrect information waſ given thee, on arrival, by one of mine own employeeſ. The clerk who gave thee thiſ incorrect information hath been demoted and put on tuning and polishing duty.

We have, and alwayſ have had, a no return policy (please see http://www.heaven.org/bible/old/text.txt and http://www.heaven.org/bible/new/text.txt).

Thy file showeth that aſ a college student, thou spent two yearſ as a Buddhist. Perhapſ thiſ is whence thine erroneouſ assumption of a possible return arose. Thou shouldst drop thiſ false idea at once. I must also inform thee that any remaining Buddhist beliefſ thou mayst hold should be discarded immediately (note that aſ an idol-worshipping religion, Buddhism violateth our Termſ & Conditionſ. See http://www.heaven.org/bible/old/the-ten.htm for detailſ)

Aſ for thine other complaintſ: if thou art having difficulty with thy neighborſ, please see http://www.heaven.org/faq-lovethy.htm. And for the broken stringſ, see http://www.heaven.org/faq-harpcare.htm.

Thank thee,

Archangel Michael

***

To: YHWH@heaven.org
Subject: Please help!
Attachments: Return-responses.pdf

Dear Lord,

I hate to have to escalate this so far, but this is getting ridiculous! No one has responded to my concerns in any remotely satisfactory way, and Michael even attempted to blackmail me into dropping my emails (and was rude to boot).

I was promised when I first arrived here that I could leave, and now I want to. I humbly ask that You keep this promise to me, even if it was made in error or ignorance.

Please help me, Lord.

Best Regards,
Sid Archer

***

To: service@hell.gov
Subject: Maintenance Request

Dear Customer Service,

I think there’s something wrong with my A/C unit…
 

Davedough

Member
Cyan - VERY creative and unexpected from the theme given. I rather enjoyed that. I half expected an Indian outsourced Hindi guy answering customer service for the ultimate irony. Very well done.
 

Cyan

Banned
Davedough said:
Cyan - VERY creative and unexpected from the theme given. I rather enjoyed that. I half expected an Indian outsourced Hindi guy answering customer service for the ultimate irony. Very well done.
Hey, thanks. :) I considered the Indian outsourcing route, but ending up liking this one a bit better.

I'll get on my critiques soon. For now, I'd better get back to some of the work I've been neglecting!
 

Scribble

Member
I agree -- that was extremely funny, and I like how you try something new each week. It is a Creative Writing challenge after all. And I didn't find the email format 'gimmicky' if you know what I mean -- the story actually works with it. It also reminds me (Intentional on your part, of course) of the frustrations I have with customer services.

Funnily enough, a few of the themes in your piece are present in the entry I'm currently working on =D
 

Davedough

Member
Phthisis said:
YHWH@heaven.org made me laugh out loud. Nice work.

I dont know if it was intentional or not, but I liked the dichotomy between heaven.org (Org originally created for Non-Profit public service type entities with an internet presence. An Org that is for helping people.) vs hell.gov (Gov signifying an oppressive force controlling the people)
 

Scribble

Member
I've done mine, but I'm going to give it a bit till I actually post it.

I seriously need to read more, as I find writing extremely difficult -- although the feeling you get when you've completed something is great.
 

LordMaji

Member
This is a fun thread. Any plans on another?

I'm not sure If I'll get a chance between now and Wednesday. But I will try and submit something. We'll see I suppose. :)

Awesome concept though. Good stories and ideas. :)
 

nitewulf

Member
LordMaji said:
This is a fun thread. Any plans on another?

I'm not sure If I'll get a chance between now and Wednesday. But I will try and submit something. We'll see I suppose. :)

Awesome concept though. Good stories and ideas. :)
challenge #5, meaning its an ongoing process. the first post links the previous topics, check those out if you found this one interesting.
 

ronito

Member
Good gosh. I have my idea in mind but I can't just seem to write it down effectively. I might skip out on this one if I can't find a way to tell the story in a good way.
 
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