Fortnightly Writing Competition - Extras - WINNER CHOSEN!

[Eric]

I recently revisited one of my favorite plays, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, by Tom Stoppard, and Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys. Both works utilize minor characters from more widely known works (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern from Shakespeare's Hamlet, and 'the madwoman in the attic' from Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, respectively), offering new stories that add to, or even subvert the meanings of the original works.

Your mission this month, should you choose to accept it, is to tell a new short piece featuring a pre-existing minor or supporting character. Bonus points if your own tale contributes new meaning to the stories those characters come from.

As this is a mere forum competition, I won't limit you to public domain works, so feel free to write stories about anyone from Planchet in the Three Musketeers, to Victor Tourjansky (the drunk tourist whose vacations James Bond always interrupts), to Wally from Monkey Island.

[Sane Co.]

I can't wait, count me in.

[CaptainD]

Cool idea, if I can find time I'll write something for this.

[CaptainD]

Okay, knocked something quick and stupid together:




It all started when there was an announcement that 2 hitchhikers had been detected.  It had been a rather boring voyage until then  As Vogons we tend to get that sort of thing a lot â€" we go to blow up a planet and the stupid inhabitants always try to claim they knew nothing about it, even though the plans are always on plain display mere light-years away.  These earthlings moaned very loudly, probably because they were all wearing digital watches.

Still, one of the earthlings we captured was quite nice â€" he actually took an interest in me and my career.  I explained that the hours were good and I liked the shouting and stomping, and he admitted that I was indeed very good at the shouting.  I almost felt sad to throw him into the airlock.  It did make me wonder about my role on the ship, and whether I should aspire to greater things, even become a captain â€" but then I realised that no, decision-making and writing poetry just wasn’t for me.  I settled back into the routine of stomping down the corridors, randomly shouting at things.  Resistance, it seemed, really was useless.

I heard afterwards that due to quantum mechanics, infinitive improbability and Brownian motion facilitated by a really strong, hot cup of tea that the earthling had been picked up by The Heart of Gold, Zaphod Beeblebrox’s ship â€" at least, his ship after he ran off with it.   I had a cousin who worked on that ship and had installed a big red button on it, only no-one knew what it would actually do â€" I wonder if they ever found out? 

The strange thing was that one day when I attended a party in which some scientists used a machine to make the hostess’ underwear jump 2 feet to the left (and her outerwear 2 feet to the right), quantum mechanics going badly wrong in the unskilled hands of someone who’d been imbibing a Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster sent a wave of infinite improbability hurtling towards me and I ended up millions of years in the future at the car park of some restaurant.   I was met there by an android.   I’ve never had very much to do with androids, but I hope they’re not all as depressing as this one â€" he did nothing but moan about having been abandoned and having to wait for millions of years.

I did bump into one of my music icons whilst there at Milliways (the name of the restaurant) â€" it was a bit unfortunate really, Hotblack Dessiarto literally bounced off my stomach down several flights of stairs.  He really didn’t look very healthy at all.  His bodyguard looked tough, but he wasn’t stupid enough to take on a vogon.  In an attempt to make things up to him, I found his ship and installed a button that said “Do not under any circumstances press this button”, or something like that â€" we vogons have a penchant for installing buttons on space ships that are either useless or dangerous, don’t ask me why.

Before the fun happened â€" the end of the universe or something â€" another wave of infinite improbability hit me, just as I was about to eat a rather nice cow who kept recommending choice cuts of herself to me â€" a bit odd, but it was nice to meet a meal that wanted to be consumed.  I found myself back on the vogon constructor ship, and back to that awful Ventrassi catering…

Oh well, there’s always some more stomping and shouting to do!  “Resistance is Useless!”, I yelled, only for some creatures called the Borg to attack us and proclaim that resistance is not in fact useless, it is futile.  And you know what?  It really is…

Just call me 5 of 12.  Or “Hugh”, if you like.  Just don’t read any poetry to me… 

[budgerigar]

An odd little tale that I had a bit too much fun with 
-----

We huddle together in the darkness, as if we had choice in the matter- the confines of this place are almost comically small. A sharp, metallic tang pervades the air, but as we wait, as we have done for seemingly countless days, it has been slowly joined by what is by now a near-tangible sense of foreboding. We have done nothing to deserve this. We have done nothing, period. And we continue to do nothing until the moment an unnatural hush settles heavily upon us and we finally hear the sound we have been dreading.

He is coming.

Everyone is still... waiting, hoping that he passes us over. But we have no blood on our lintels, and our moments are numbered. And then that number reaches zero.

One by one we are forced out, violently, that unspeakable noise announcing the moment each blinks into nothingness. Some try to take grim hope that perhaps our fate is not pointless, and by giving up our existence we are, in a small way, helping others to continue on. But I see their silver lining for what it is: insult to injury. There is nothing noble about this forced sacrifice. The good of the one does not take precedence over the good of the many, and if it takes a hundred of us to even make the smallest difference... I know with every fiber of my being that it is not right, it is not just.

Once even I was tempted to feel some sympathy for the sad little man who batters this world at his whim, but in my final moments my heart is hardened and my resolve is steeled.

I curse you, Italian plumber. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.

[voh]

Interesting... I'll spend some time to see if I can come up with something

[CaptainD]

@ budgerigar - clever, I liked it - although I'm not completely sure Super Mario Bros counts as a work of literature?!? 

[Sane Co.]

I have something in the works, It might be a while though, I hope I have time to get it done.

[budgerigar]

@ budgerigar - clever, I liked it - although I'm not completely sure Super Mario Bros counts as a work of literature?!? 

Heh, thank you. And while I certainly took liberties with "work" and definitely with "character"... I don't see "literature" specified 0:)

But, if you insist...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Super-Mario-Brothers-Fantail-Strasser/dp/0140900373

[Sane Co.]

I am finished. Sorry for choosing something you don't know about. This is based off of Lewis Carol's (The maker of the "Alice in Wonderland" book.) poem: "The Hunting of the Snark." I call it "The Killing by the Boojum" or "The Hunting of the Snark 1 1/2"

“Just the place for a snark,” the bellman cried
As he landed his crew on the beach
All the while the boojum quite snide
Watched within the bellman’s reach

The boojum was hidden behind cracker boxes
And a very large pile of hoods,
A lunchbox with picture of what the bellman called “oxes;”
All the while eating canned candied goods

“The snark is here, I feel it in my bones,
Find it, but if the snark be a boojum…”
Just then a flobberjump started throwing lots of stones
The crew ran, when they were safe the bellman poured everyone rum

“If the snark be a boojum,
You better cry out
Because you will start to grow numb
And disappear, after you get a severe case of gout.”

The boojum heard every word
As he had recently climbed a tree
He listened while eating a snird
Which he had caught by the knee.

The crew sought the snark
They sought it with glee
They looked until after dark
When they couldn’t see

They sought it with thimbles they sought it with care
They sought it with forks and with hope
They threatened it’s life with a railway share
They charmed it with smiles and soap

The boojum was hidden in a crag
Eating lots and lots of cereal
Which it shared with a stag
Whose personality was clerical

Then came the crew’s baker
Who walked over the mount
The boojum, who was a good faker
Dressed up like a wealthy count

The baker wasn’t fooled
“It’s a snark,” he yelled
Suddenly the baker drooled
He then became swelled

His legs swelled up
His skinny arm did too
And he disappeared with a “schlup”
But not before yelling, “It’s a boo…”

The crew heard his cry
They searched night and day
They found him not, though they were sly
For the baker had slowly vanished away

The boojum ran down to the ship
Where he hoisted the anchor
And sailed it away from the mainland’s lip
The first to notice was the banker

He notified the bellman
But it was too late
The boojum was enjoying the cabin’s fan
And left the crew to their fate

The bellman was furious
The banker was sad
The matter was serious
And the boojum glad

The boojum sailed off into the horizon
And was never heard form again
And the bellman who never had any fun
Was carried off by a wren

The rest of the crew
Were left alone
And didn’t know what to do
But were killed anyway by a trone

The snark had been sought
But a boojum had almost been caught
But it had skillfully fought
So what they had, was naught.

[CaptainD]

I am finished. Sorry for choosing something you don't know about. This is based off of Lewis Carol's (The maker of the "Alice in Wonderland" book.) poem: "The Hunting of the Snark."

I'm sorry for knowing about something you were sorry about me not knowing about. 

[Sane Co.]

I meant to add "probably," but now that won't even work.
So I'm sorry for making you think that I thought that you most certainly didn't know about it.   

[Eric]

Just a little over 24 hours left in this competition! We've got three strong entries thus far, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the vote goes on this. Would anyone else like to toss their work into the mix?

[Eric]

Coming down to the wire on this one...!

[Eric]

Well, folks, midnight my time has just passed, and so I'm calling this one over. Let the voting commence! Who will be the victor?


Will it be CaptainD with his examination of Vogonity?


Will it be budgerigar with his expose on the true nature of Italian plumber war criminals?


Or will it be SaneCo. with the return of the crafty Boojum?

I'm going to reserve my vote for a tiebreak scenario. You guys all did spectacularly, in my opinion!

[CaptainD]

Ah man... the other 2 entries were great, I feel bad not voting for Sane but honestly I loved the exploration of one of those poor critters who get bounced to death by the fat Italian plumber, so I'm voting for budgerigar this time.

(Oh and I hadn't read the rules properly, Eric's rules did say something about Wally from Monkey Island so clearly computer game characters are allowed!  )

[Sane Co.]

I vote for Captain D. Not quite Douglas Adams, but close.

[Eric]

I'm going to let voting continue through Tuesday. Hopefully we can get a few more readers/voters in here!

[Eric]

It would be wonderful if we could attract a few more reader-voters for this fortnightly comp, and I hope no one minds if I bump for a last-day boost?

[kconan]

  I vote for Sane Co.