Fortnightly Writing Competition - Transatlantic - (10/2 - 24/2) - WINNER!

Started by Jimbob, Thu 10/02/2011 11:42:25

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Jimbob

Okay... here's my first go at this...

The theme of the writing competition is Transatlantic!

Recently (i.e. yesterday), I travelled over the Atlantic to live in the USA for the next six months, which as you might expect is a pretty big deal for me. So as a kind of trigger for what the topic could entail, here's some bullets:

Maybe you could write about:

  • A transatlantic crossing? By some form of new dirigible? plane? submarine? ship?
  • A goodbye between two intimately related characters? Someone leaving on the Titanic
  • A Valentine's sub theme perhaps, with a letter sent across the water?
  • Two fictional warring factions separated by a large watery mass that happens to be called the Atlantic?

There are no limits to the type of prose, story, poem or song (the one by Death Cab for Cutie comes to mind) you want to write... so go wild!

I will make trophies a little later.. entries in by sometime on the 24th February

(Lemme know if I've missed something)

WINNER IS ANIAN!
Current Project: A Hard Day's Knight

Atelier


kconan

Johnson from accounts was the first and easiest.  Putting a little “unconventional” e-smut on his work computer and then giving the anonymous tipoff to the IT department was a piece of cake.  Johnson was out of the picture in a day or two.  His mistake was starting rumors around the water cooler about me being a sociopathic psycho.  Well, ok he is half right.  The last I heard, Mr. Rumormonger was drummed out of his family and circle of friends, and moved to Saskatchewan to start a new life in attempts to escape his infamy.

My boss’s boss, Schlabakowitz, was next and much harder.  Sourcing the barely traceable poison from the Ukraine was a long tedious, and at times dangerous, process.  On the other hand, dumping it in his morning java was like taking candy from a blind baby.  Schlabakowitz was no longer a threat to my career trajectory in about a week.  Doctors are now hopeful that he’ll be able to communicate beyond random grunts and groans sometime soon.

Since old man Schlabakowitz became a dribbling addlehead, both my company and career have progressed beyond my initial expectations.  But progress could always be faster, for me especially.

Things went so well for my company that we opened a large office in London.  In order to properly celebrate/announce the grand opening both internally amongst ourselves and externally to the clients, most of the company executives and full-time staff were invited to take a slow luxurious cruise from London to New York.  Roughly one-hundred clients from key accounts were also asked to join the festivities.  One of these clients, specifically Mr. Jefferson Parker who had been assigned cabin 120, happens to have a violent past which includes a variety of well documented assaults, aggravated batterys, and even an attempted murder.  His criminal record abruptly ended ten years ago when Mr. Parker became a sales associate for his brother’s shipping company; which happens to be one of our largest accounts.  Presumably he turned his life around.  After the voyage, Mr. Parker will undoubtedly be heading back in the other direction.

I’m not interested in being President, as it is a high stress job with a history of turnover.  And plus, I’m not that greedy.  My goal is to be the vice-president.  And I am two bodies away from it.  Ok well, I was two bodies away.

Last night the seascape was gorgeous, and the sight of Clark and Peters clanging champagne glasses and enjoying cigars on the ledge at the stern of the boat made it absolutely stunning.  I hadn’t intended on bothering with Clark, as talentless buffoons like him aren’t usually a threat, but when the Career Enhancement Fairy sprinkles her magic dust you don’t argue with her.  I watched nearby as the two unsuspecting drunks swayed arm-in-arm with the rhythm of the sea and their annoying shanties.  All it took to move up a rung on the corporate ladder was one drop-kick, which sent Peters flying into the ship’s giant rooster-tail.  My other foot caught Clark, who went tumbling stogie-in-hand into the drink as well.

Knowing my fall guy was out partying by the pool, I headed to cabin 120 - which I correctly guessed would be unlocked.  I entered the small room, grabbed a pair of shoes, and then carefully took some hair samples from a comb using a plastic bag and tweezers.  The shoes and samples were put in my backpack, and I began my climb up the stairs to the staterooms.  My trip up was lengthy, as I stopped to savor each rung while smelling the salty-sweet ocean air.  There was just…one…more.

Madam Julienne.  What a pretentious narcissist.  She isn’t from England, and yet this woman insists on being referred to as “Madam”.  After once publicly referring to her as “Mrs. Julienne”, she proceeded to dress me down in front of half of the office.  Even if I didn’t already know which stateroom was hers, it wouldn’t be hard to track down as it is ridiculously large and opulent.  Peters was handed to me on a silver platter…Perhaps this career blocking witch would prove more difficult.  I knocked on the Madam’s door while debating which strangulation method, blood versus air supply, would be more entertaining.

She opened the door with bloodshot eyes and said through alcohol-tainted breath, “Yeah, what do you want Peon McNobody?”  I entered her huge suite and gently closed the door behind me.  She glared and said, “Ha-ha!  Everyone in the office is scared of you because they expect you’ll snap at some point.  Well I’m not...afraid of you that is.”  And then her eyes darted down to my hands and slowly became larger as she nervously asked, “Why...are you wearing…those gloves?”  The Madam’s eyes were as big as portholes as they made their way from my hands up to my eyes.  Then a sort of calm came over her as she briefly glanced towards the door and said, “You know I’ll scream while I claw your eyes out.”  I admired her bravery and awareness regarding the predicament, but not enough to decide against shooting her in the side of the head with a surprise tazer shot.  The Madam went into convulsions as she tried to regain control of her body.  Post-strangling, I rubbed Mr. Parker’s shoes on the carpeted floor and strategically placed hairs on Madam Julienne’s body using tweezers.  These measures, along with starting rumors of a torrid affair between Mr. Parker and Madam Julienne, should point the blame squarely on my fall guy.  There was no one left, I was The Vice-President!

I made my way to a well hidden crow’s nest and changed clothes (and shoes), throwing my previous outfit into the sea.  The ocean breeze felt good as my eyes searched the waves and the few areas of the ship that were visible from my vantage point.  After slinging the backpack over my shoulder, I slowly strolled towards Mr. Parker’s cabin.  The pool bash was now breaking up and the attendees were heading back to their cabins.  I caught the eye of one particularly attractive partygoer wearing a mermaid costume, and was given a dirty look as if she knew something.  How dare she eyeball me like that?  I’m probably her boss now.

I returned to a still empty cabin 120, and put Mr. Parker’s shoes back in their original place.  It was much later in the middle of a morning victory stroll around the ship that I realized my error.  The worry was set firmly in-stone when I was looking at the entrances for cabins 220-a, 220-b, and 220-c.  All of the room layouts look basically the same so it was easy to make the mistake.  I don’t know who my fall guy is now, or where his incriminating shoes are for that matter.

It is now late in the morning, and I am peeking from behind the canvas cover of a lifeboat.  I can hear the footsteps of a large, angry search party getting closer.  I’m not one-hundred percent sure exactly who they are looking for, but I can make an educated guess.  I blame everyone in my company besides me, and the designers of the confusing cabin numbering system.  And that mermaid chick for giving me a dirty look.

Jimbob

Great entry... come on guys, about a week to go... TROPHIES!

Current Project: A Hard Day's Knight

Diath

Alright folks after thinking of what I could possibly do with this topic, a wild idea formed in my head so I frantically started writing. I am the only person that reviewed it so i apologize if its eye bleedingly long ;)



The thing in the water.

One may ask themselves what triggers in a man’s mind to do the valiant and the insane. Wither it be the first to fly an airplane or being one of the first expeditions to the moon.  For Caspar Hollenstead it was to transcend into what most people had considered a well traversed yet vastly unknown plane. Hollenstead and a select crew were to set sail and traverse into the uncharted area only known as the Bermuda triangle.

Many people didn’t question as to why Caspar chose to go on this presumably fateful expedition. Many people attributed it to his blind passion for adventure but the most common fact was that four months prior his father and navy sailor, Hubert was lost at sea when trying to charter an isle by the Caribbean. After the people of Caspar’s town declared that Hubert was missing, they instantly put blame into the eerie and foreboding area of the Bermuda triangle, or the devils triangle in smaller circles.

Many stories were placed upon that body of water. It has been told from the natives of the Caribbean that Twenty disappearances had been documented in the last fifty years and even more rumored a mere hundred years before that. Nearly all incidents had the same motif, that the subjects had set sailed for fishing or for travel and accidently ran off course into the triangle.

The most recent case for the Caribbean isles was a mere ten years ago. The natives reported seeing a vast and almost angelic storm that spread all over the isles. The villagers claimed that during the magnificent storm, two orange like orbs were in the distant sky seemingly from the direction of the Bermuda triangle.

These disappearances and stories did not deter Caspar and his crew when they decided that they wanted to take action. Most of his crew were only acquaintances and he had summarized that they only wanted recognition and glory. Caspar’s second in command and longtime friend, Troy Tetherlan was the main and final driving force of the expedition.
Troy had known Caspar since he was a young boy and was also a friend of his fathers. He had gathered nearly all the other men that were to brave into the triangle. He was an adventurous man with even some previous military experience. Caspar was more than confidant when he decided to set sail and pick Troy as his second in command.

Caspar’s expedition of five men had set sail on May 12th, 1978 in an old military ship as a favor from one of his father’s military friends. It was a custom built vessel. It had two floors and two harpoon guns located at the front of the ship. It was also fitted with a makeshift machine gun on the second floor next to the control deck. The crew quarters were located in the back of the ship on the main floor while the captains were in a back room on the control deck.

The crew did not see anything of interest for the first few days. All five men were constantly on the lookout, they knew that it would not be a long voyage before they would reach the ever infamous triangle. They were intercepted once by an American vessel. They were greeted and shared a few stories about the nearby waters. They wished Caspar’s crew luck as they knew where they were headed and soon departed. Troy stood by Caspar’s side most of the time during the daylight hours to insure everything would go well and that they were on course.

It was over a week and a half when it happened. The daylight was beginning to dwindle and Caspar, Troy and another crew member known as Danvers were playing cards in the control room. The wind was starting to pick up as the hours drug on but not enough for most of the crew other than the remainder out on the deck to notice. The last of sunlight seemingly faded in an instant, making a sudden change of light in the control room.

The latest card game finished when Danvers looked up and exclaimed, “Jesus would you look at that…”

The look of wonder and fear formed on Danvers face as he said these words. A slight fear trickled in Caspar as well, a fear that told him he didn’t want to look over and see what he was talking about.

Troy stood up instantly as Caspar slowly rose to take in the scene he was seeing outside the windows. The sky had formed into a grey and green like blanket. The clouds seemed to be traveling at an unrealistic amount of speed due to the high winds that began to pick up.

Caspar made his way to the door that lead to the outside deck when one of the crew members rushed through instead.
   â€œSir we must have went off track, there was no warning for this storm and it’s about to pick up something fierce”
   â€œThat’s impossible, this ship has hardly even steered in any direction other than east since we left shore”, replied Troy with a look of concern toward Caspar.

More fear had formed into Caspar as he realized what was going on. A storm like the ones the Caribbean natives were talking about was beginning to take shape and he was foolish enough to take himself and a handful of people into this seemingly death trap.  He wanted  more than anything to discard these as nothing more than wives tales to scare children.
Caspar began to reclaim himself. He wanted to find his father above all else. Adventure was never a problem for him even in the face of apparent danger. This storm could have happened no matter where he was at in the sea and we has not about to let it overcome him.

Caspar made his way toward the card table where he had laid his compass at. If he were to check the device, it should say that they were going in the direction of east. Caspar picked up the compass and gazed at the direction of the little red hand. He to a slight surprised, had to confirm his crew members suspicion, the red hand was pointed north.

   â€œWe are either in an area with strange interference to compasses or we are indeed off track”, said Caspar to Troy and his crew members. A somber look formed on each of the men’s faces as they did a silent mental check of what they must all do now. They must attempt to steer their way from the storm and get themselves back on track.

Caspar, Troy and his other crew members made their way out onto the deck were the rest of the men were at. The sky was getting worse as large waves were beginning to rush against the ship, rocking it back and forth. The men were running around making sure that the sails were tightened and bracing for possible high force wave impact.

A sound of a long hollow horn could be heard through the bellowing of the wind and raging water. The men screamed as a large wave the size of the ship came toward them from the right. Most of the men other than one managed to make it toward the other side of the ship in time. The water hit the man that didn’t manage to make it with a strong whip like force, knocking him down towards one of the harpoon guns.

The crew scrambled to recover their comrade after the wave subsided. Lights could be seen through the clouds in the distance. Lightening was hastily approaching. Troy made a movement with his hand toward the crew as he walked,
“Come on men, grab him and get to higher ground.”

All the crew followed the command other than Caspar, as he made his way toward the front of the ship gazing out toward the lightening and clouds.

Another hollow deep sound from a horn could be heard all throughout the open barren sea. Caspar looked through the grey green clouds toward the flashes of lightening. Danvers and another crew member ran down to meet Caspar at the front of the ship.

“Sir we need to get back toward the control deck before that lightning storm approaches.”  Danvers began to grab Caspar’s arm, directing him back toward the deck. Caspar stood his ground.

“That’s not lightening.” said Caspar sullenly.

The light began to pulsate, unnaturally, unlike a lightning storm.  An orange light began to take shape as it formed into two orbs and began to shine toward the ship and the open sea.

Danvers tried to tug harder than before in fear of the new light. Another hollow sound, louder than before erupted from the direction of the two orbs. All the crew tensed up as they noticed a large pillar like shape coming towards them. The shape was coming at them at an insane amount of speed, giving the crew little time to react.

The pillar like shape formed into a small arc as it got closer. Danvers let go of Caspar as a large turbulent force, harder than the large wave, hit the ship. The object hit and tore at the right part of the hull shaking the ship violently, sending people and chunks of wood into the air. Through the midst of the terror and confusion, Caspar realized to his horror that the large pillar was a monster like tentacle.

The screams from the crew subsided into whimpers as they attempted to recover from the unknown attacker. Caspar looked out toward the ever shaking sea. Two crew members were seemingly missing one of them was Danvers. Troy took little time to react, he ordered the other remaining crew member to man the machine gun as he attempted to steer the ship away from the dark force they were advancing into.

The two orange lights glowed brighter as the hollow howl like sound boomed louder than before. Gun fire erupted from the machine gun, piercing through the darkness toward the orbs. The light grew bright enough that Caspar could finally see out into the direction of the light. A large horribly disfigured creature the size of a large mountain could be seen. The skin was deep crystal and gem like. The orbs of lights that once pierced the darkness were apparently the things eyes.

A scream from one of the crew members could be heard through the gun fire as a second force hit the ship only this time it was not a tentacle. The sea itself seemed to have attacked from under the ship. The deck shook violently as the machine gunner lost balance and fell forward into the barrel. The last few gunshots echoed into the air as the bullets hit the crew member and fell over dead.

Panic and dread filled into Caspar’s soul as the creature bellowed its horrid hollow noise. The mouth opened nearly as wide as the mountain sized creature itself. Thousands of rock like jagged teeth could be seen as the sea rumbled harder than it did ever that night.

Gun fire erupted into the night again as Caspar saw Troy take point, in a final last stand. Troy screamed to match the ferocity of the creature. Caspar with a sudden thought ran toward the nearest harpoon gun in hopes that they were close enough. He aimed the harpoon at the orb like eyes and fired. The gun kicked back with forceful recoil but fell aimlessly into the sea.
The failure did not deter Caspar as the ship gloomed closer to the monster. He ran to the opposite side of the ship to the other harpoon and aimed more precise than before. A tentacle rose out from the sea to make another final attack on the ship. The tentacle was unlike the rest of the things skin, it was not crystal like but a sickly oozing green like color. Caspar took the opportunity and fired upon it. The harpoon crashed into the tentacle and green like blood blistered into the water as it stuck into the skin.

The machine gun fire was still barraging the open mouth of the creature and the harpoon stuck ever still into the creature. A feeling of victory was seemingly in the air. The orange eyes of the creature appeared to have dimmed slightly. The creature hesitated but the storm continually raged on.

The moment of triumph ended abruptly and a few things happened at once. The creature’s eyes began to glow a dark red as the creature made yet another familiar hollow like roar. The harpoon fell from its puncture wound and caused the tentacle to come careening down onto the ship. Troy made a final war cry as the Tentacles final blow fell upon the captain’s deck and onto the machine gun. The ship tore apart in two and Caspar was launched into the air.  Caspar could see a large island that stretched miles beyond behind the monster as he fell into the ever shaking sea.

The island and the mountainous creature disappeared from sight as Caspar landed and fell into the watery abyss. He helplessly moved his limbs around trying to resurface out of the water but sank ever deeper. Caspar’s sight began to refocus and made clear of what was underwater. Various dark like objects were moving frantically in the water and he made out the squid like under body of the sea monster. Eight large tentacles were moving around a large scaling body making a vortex like motion.

Utter realization and terror filled the last thoughts of Caspar as his life ebbed. Below the sea creature was many vast objects that resembled ships, aircrafts and other unidentified objects. He recognized the insignia of the broken ship closest to him as his fathers.

The secret of the Bermuda triangle along with the loss of his father and old friend overtook him. The Natives of the Caribbean were right to fear and blame disappearances and strange occurrences on the seeming devils triangle. The eyes of the evil creature could even sometimes be seen by the islanders if they happened to be looking toward one of the wild storms.

Caspar’s muscles tightened as he embraced his impending doom. The creature made a movement to go underwater, its large mouth opened revealing once again its cavernous array of jagged and stone like teeth. Closing his eyes, Caspar embraced, possibly like dozens before him, his end knowing that the knowledge of the cursed sea would die with him.


     



Anian

Now that I saw the lenght of Diath's entry, I'm not afraid mine will be too long  ;) I'll try to finish it over the weekend.
EDIT: ok, took longer than I thought. A steampunky, alternative reality, lost love, lost hope snippet. It's quality doesn't really justify it's length, so I won't take it to hard if nobody reads it, to the ones that do - enjoy.


Atlantic's limp


There was screech and a violent tremble as the beast stopped. Annie's heliotype fell to the floor, along with few tools and pens. The hanging lantern swung through the air. The ink bottle bled out all over the sketches and plans, spread out on the desk. Silent beat of the night was disrupted.

Noises started to fill Nathan's head as his senses built momentum. Moonlight barely broke through the dirty porthole, but he knew his cabin well. And as the eyes were adjusting, he felt his way to the desk and to the closet. Seconds later, he was racing down the corridor in his work uniform, trying to clean an oil smudge of his shirt. Not that it mattered much, but some sense of order and pride and fabricated false confidence had to exist. Especially for the night shift crew, they were hard to control as is and the situation was even worse if they got a hold of some alcohol.

He passed the a few sleeping cabins. Some people poked their sleepy heads out but when they saw the head engineer running down the halls, they went back to sleep. Nathan attributed it to his confident demeanor, but it was probably more due to the exhaustion the whole crew felt. The shifts were getting longer and harder, supplies were getting low and rumours spread about how they were too late and that they would've headed to the mountains like the others. Sleep was the only break from the worries of the days.

Few floors down the the shaky staircase and Nathan could start to feel the warmth of the engines and the smell of sweat that was crawling from the engine room. Inside, a few men were busy manually opening the valves to let out excess steam, because automated system couldn't handle such a sudden stop of the whole machinery. The rest of the crew were opening one of the six big hatches that laid on the floor and a loud hiss filled the room. Suddenly the temperature dropped as the night air stormed in. Nathan cleared his way through the assembled crew that wanted to breath in some fresh air. He grabbed the railing and looked through the opening below.

Goosebumps went through his body, even after all this time he couldn't deal with the height. In fact he wouldn't even be here if Annie hadn't talked him into taking this journey. The first time he saw it in the construction yard, he felt nausea at the thought of going into this giant eight legged beast. The mighty Atlantic, one of the first vessels made to escape the coming flood. Flood that's going to drown the Great valleys. The damn broke and the Great valleys of the west will be gone soon, and only something as this, something never before constructed could save the people in time. But the plans he saw and the engine he constructed just looked so different when they were real steal, tin and brass parts standing 150 feet up in the air. A colossus machine made out of human ambition and forged out of the finest metal Europe's mines could provide. No way was he escaping the flood in that monster, but Annie still thought it was the best way and even after long nights of argument, he still wanted to trust her judgement. Now that she's gone, he was left alone to keep this vessel moving and getting everybody safely to the other side. But you can not really resent the memories of loved ones.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, it was mister Barlow, his main night shift engineer.

   'We think it's this one tonight,' Barlow said calmly and then remembered what Nathan said about ranks and order. 'Sir!'

Myst slowly moved as a river at the bottom of the canyon. It seemed the problem was the fourth leg on the right side. He couldn't see what the problem exactly was but this has been happening so often lately and the cause was more than apparent. They'll have to go down to the surface, again.

   'Right. You know the drill' confidence returned to Nathan's voice, leadership had to be maintained.

Four men, toolboxes and shovels. The rigid harness complained about the weight, but it couldn't be helped. Winches turned and the descent started. As they left the bowels of the beast, moonlight got stronger. A cold wind was blowing, slightly rocking the harness. Nathan knew the men were scared but he was occupied with trying not to shiver or losing his dinner. He shut his eyes tightly.

   'Everything good so far, just try not to move too much,' Barlow stepped in.

Just as the shadows almost vanished, fog started to block the view. Last thing they saw was the glitter of water in the distance. Fog was fast to envelop them and then gone just as fast. The vessel was out of sight and only a strong but old cable holding the harness was a piercing the white blanket above their heads. Harness hit the ground with a splash. Big puddles and narrow streams filled the earth beneath their boots. This was a bad sign, but Nathan couldn't help but feel relief to be on solid ground.

It seemed the massive metal leg was stuck in mud and rocks. It twitched slightly surrounded by puffs of steam some safety valves released and beams let out sharp painful whimpers of bending metal. Some cogs where trying to spin and failed while others seemed to jumped out from the strain. It probably didn't matter, there were extra parts built into the design, even the whole project started out with eight legs and was now down to five, maybe even four by the end of the week.

   'Mr Matthews, Mr Bell, start digging and removing the rubble, Mr Barlow and I will check the damage.'

Two young men nodded and grabbed the shovels. After a while the whole group pushed the bigger rocks away. The leg let out almost a sigh of relief when the last obstacle was removed. As they were working the small streams grew stronger and wider while puddles got deeper.

   'Now men, what you saw here must not be mentioned,' Nathan pointed to the mud and water around them. 'No sense in spreading panic among the crew, nothing good ever came of it.'

The ride up back the vessel was silent as was the one down, but some dread crept into the silence and a bit of hope was left on the ground. The babbling of the water soon disappeared and was replaced by the sound of engine rumble and men shovelling coal into the ovens. The crew returned to their duties and the night shift picked up it's pace.

Nathan returned to his cabin. He picked up Annie's heliotype and brushed the dust off. The plans were still smeared with ink and it has already almost completely dried, but it didn't really matter, he knew this vessel by heart and it's not like there will be others taking over his job anytime soon. This is either a one way trip or a complete disaster and soon they'll know which. The flood was catching up and some say the Great valleys will be an ocean just like the Pacific in a few weeks time. He looked out the porthole one last time and then went to sleep.

As steam built up, clack of giant pistons rang out for miles. The echoed heartbeat of the metal limping beast running from the ocean.


I don't want the world, I just want your half

Jimbob

Awesome, now we have enough entries for trophies!

Can we have more!??!? One day left!
Current Project: A Hard Day's Knight

Obi

Eddy got on the aeroplane and pondered his own existence. He thought to himself "hmmm I wonder if anyone will notice if I do a little dance while on the plane?" And then he did the world's most amazing dance, it was so amazing that the man sitting in seat 5c started to cry. This was a feat in itself as the fellow in seat 5c had no eyes and therefore lacked the visual requisite to see the amazing dance which had yet to be described to him by the fellow passengers especially the fat woman sitting to the right of him in seat 5b. Barron Von Smythe had lost the use of his eyes and indeed the eye balls in a nuclear test that had gone horribly wrong in the underground testing laboratory in Alameda, that's in California if you didn't know. The American's had deemed him important after the second world war and allowed him to live in America to have a chance at the American dream.

But it had gone all horribly wrong, he still felt the phantom eye balls in his eyeball sockets, 20 years on. This was the real reason he was crying even though he couldn't cry because he had no eyes. He hadn't seen the dance, nor heard it as Eddy, the amazing dancer was known as a silent dancer. Eddy had the ability to dance silently, he was the only person in the whole world who could do it. This feat had made him quite the superstar in Europe and Asia BUT NOT IN AMERICA. He'd mastered this ability not out of want but out of need. His annoying wife always complained that he had danced too loudly as she tried to sleep. She seemed to sleep all the time these days, this was because she constantly drank alcohol as she hated her marriage. What a bitch! But Eddy had soldiered on and made the marriage work by learning how to dance completely silently. This skill he thought to himself would make him perfect for the Movies in America Land. Eddy had never been to America, the idea of American's made him feel physically sick, but the doctor had given him some pills to make that sickness go away. Eddy knew this was his chance to make it big and earn lots of money. He needed the money as his wife was also addicted to gambling. What a bitch! Eddy had made it big in Asia by performing his silent dancing on the radio, which all the Asian populations had loved as it kept them calm.

Eddy suddenly remembered that he was fearful of flying and exclaimed "Oh no! I'm fearful of flying!" the kindly old lady sitting next to him in seat h4 looked him in the eye (even though he had two eyes, not like Barron Von Smythe who had no eyes.) and said "Don't worry dear, it'll be fine I've been on a thousand aeroplanes in my time!" This didn't make Eddy feel any better because he had an aversion to conversing with the elderly. Eddy quickly scanned around his personal area for a sick bag to throw up in. In the nick of time he spotted one picked it up and preceded to vomit into the bag, you'd think this action would have been noisy but Eddy being Eddy managed to vomit completely silently. He just wish his wife had the same trait. Eddy decided to take some sleeping pills and drifted to sleep.

Jimbob

Righty-o! Comp over chaps/chapesses!

Four Entries to vote for Obi, Anian, Diath and Kconan... get to it. I'll give you till Sunday...

I'll post my comments soon... :)
Current Project: A Hard Day's Knight

Ponch

But I've still got 5 hours until the deadline here in Texas.  Damn you, time zones! :(

Jimbob

If you've got an entry in the next five hours... I'll let you off...
Current Project: A Hard Day's Knight

Ponch

The other penguins had told him that the real money was to be made by investing in tundra. Or, for the very wealthy, in the prime real estate of the permanent pack. But only a fool invested in a time share on an iceberg. Only a fool... or the very rich. Peter T. Penguin was neither, but he had an angle. And that's all a clever bird needed: an angle.

"Land o' Goshen! Would ya look at tha' view," cooed Pollyana, his unwitting bride to be. "Don' it jes' go on fer miles and miles."

She was a South Pole penguin and her southern accent, which had been cute at first, was starting to wear a little thin since he first met her three days ago and sweet talked her into this private cruise.

"I told you. Didn't I, my pet?" He put a wing across her shoulder for extra snuggly emphasis. "Drifting along the Atlantic. That's how we idle rich were meant to spend our idle hours. Which are numerous, being as how we're both incredibly rich." He gestured expansively at the darkened ocean with his other wing.

He wasn't actually rich, of course. But she was. So rich that just thinking about it would have made him break out in a cold sweat if he weren't standing on an iceberg. Her family had struck it rich back during the oil boom of the previous decade. Cod oil. Whale oil. You name it and they were swimming in the stuff. And soon he would be too.

And by the time her family figured out that the "Mr. Perfect" that their only daughter had met while vacationing in Europe was actually a common penguin from the wrong side of the ice floe, it would be too late.

"I'm gonna hav' ta tell Pa about these here ice bergs. We gotta git us one. That's fer sure."

"They really are the only way to travel, love." And that was true. Zeppelins were losing their appeal as they had the nasty habit of going up in flames. And steamer ships had too many poor people on them. And now that Peter was about to leave the ranks of the lower class, he didn't want to be bothered by the little people.

"Lookie! A ship!" She excitedly pointed with the stubby tip of her dainty wing.  "I wonder where they's headed?"

"Who knows, dear," Peter shrugged. But he silently reminded himself that where ever it was, those poor rich people were awash in the stench of the working class the entire way.

"Don' it look like they's headed for us?" Pollyanna asked, her voice rising just a bit.

"Probably a poor person at the wheel," chuckled Peter. "But don't worry, pudding pop. They'll soon get out of our way. We're clearly bigger than they are. And almost certainly richer."

"Tea... Eye... Tea..." she read off the letters on the bow of the ship in that adorable way she had of sounding out unfamiliar words.

As she chiseled away at the word, Peter thought about all the money he had borrowed from every loan shark he knew just so he could rent this iceberg from the Puffin Mafia.

"Aay... Inn..."

He would have to make sure the marriage happened soon. By now, the mafia bookies had sat down to count the money. They would have discovered that most of the briefcase was actually filled with rectangular pieces of newspaper. To say that the GodPuffin would be pissed was an understatement.

But as long as he brought this iceberg back without a scratch and covered in bags of her (soon to be his) money, he was sure he could smooth things over.

"Eye... See."

No doubt about it. After years of playing small cons, Lady Luck had finally smiled on ol' Peter T. Penguin.

"What's that spell, honey?" she asked, finally finished with the strange word.

"I'll tell you what it spells," said Peter, lost in his thoughts of the solid gold future that lay before him.

"Jackpot."

Jimbob

Current Project: A Hard Day's Knight

Ponch


Atelier

My idea was set in the future, when Great Britain is detached from the sea floor and it sails around the world! I even made some graphics for it.



Anyway my vote goes to Diath.

Anian

Vote goes to Diath but closely followed by Ponch's lolorama. Though the other two entries were fun to read as well.

And Atelier, that's a nifty idea.
I don't want the world, I just want your half

Ponch

Quote from: Atelier on Fri 25/02/2011 16:50:47
My idea was set in the future, when Great Britain is detached from the sea floor and it sails around the world!

I smell an Oceanspirit Dennis game in there somewhere!  :=

Adrian  

I like obi's entry it reminds me of the great Leonardo, he's dead now but his spirit lives in, in this writing, as I trace my hands across the monitor for I am blind with happiness

I vote for "What a bitch" a eddy tale by obi


Diath

I like Anian's. It feels like it could be fleshed out to be a novel or even an adventure game



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