Messages

[joold]

Thoughts so far....

Spoiler

"Any man" could be a common name, like Joe.  "Out of their prime" implies fat, unfit or old (I don't get a "not yet in their prime" vibe).  "Accepting a lack of energy" definitely means subtracting an "e" from something (chemical equation symbol for energy).  "Which saturates their being" probably refers to the E or E's that appear in or throughout the resulting name/word (and must be subtracted).  The most literal phrase to be saturated is "their being" itself, which gives us "thirbing", but that doesn't seem to be on the right track.  So... Joe + old - e = joold

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Wow!  Impressively fast word-slinging!  Remind me not to insult-duel with you at dawn....

I also have two questions: will all the entries have the big reveal, or just the winning ones? Also, will the big reveal be in story form, or just along the lines of, "Well, it was so-and-so who did it and you can tell because A said this but B said that..."

I was envisaging just a "it was so-and-so" after all the votes were cast and everyone had a stab at guessing the culprit (part of the voting process ).  But if you're really feeling energetically creative, a continuation story reveal would be perfectly acceptable.  Hopefully all contributors will do a reveal in one form or another: there's nothing more frustrating than an unresolved cliffhanger .

Excellent reasoning my friend.

Spoiler

I was thinking flowers are the beginning of a fruit, so a "flowerless fruit" would be a fruit without its beginning, but your reasoning sufficed to solve my little puzzle, so good on you.

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Next! 

That's right folks, it's the FWC's own WHODUNNIT Competition!



Mysteries can take many forms, from missing biscuits to murder most foul, to weird sci-fi scenarios where psychics are harnessed to machines to predict crimes and cars self-drive in three dimensions, but the predictions of who the culprit is still come rolling dramatically down a Rube Goldberg marble run .  But it is considered one of the highest art forms of fiction to weave a mystery that is both solvable (if you can piece the clues together properly), and yet confounding to the vast majority of readers.  Your goal for this competition is to craft such a mystery according to the following criteria:

-Target of 1000-2000 words.  We don't disqualify you if you spill over slightly, but don't miss it by an order of magnitude.
-There must be hidden clues that point to the real perpetrator (but of course red herrings are very welcome as well)
-The perpetrator must not be revealed!  Instead we will guess WHODUNNIT?  at voting time, with the big reveal afterwards!

The criteria your work will be judged by will probably include:

-Best character (most believable, compelling, adorable, captivating, or mesmerizing)
-Best setting (best described/developed location for the mystery)
-Best word craft (stylistic marks for good word choice or turns of phrase)
-Best crime (be creative!  It's worth 20% of the votes!)
-Best mystery (the subtle weaving of clues and colour to make the story compelling to our sense of curiosity over WHODUNNIT?!?)

Deadline is midnight June 2, 2015, with voting to be started by me at some point the following day.  Good luck to all participants!  Get out there, and get writing!

Ha ha!  Clinched in the eleventh hour.  Or the thirteenth hour....  But colour me pleased nonetheless.  Congrats to all the entrants, and I'll be sure to get the next comp up and running faster than you can say "Ponch voted?!?"

You try to extract Larry from behind the plant, but he says he's not finished yet.  The sound of the fountain becomes more intense, then sporadic, then finally tapers to a drip.  In the mean time, Le Brûte slithers off to safety, no doubt in some subterranean lair, to regroup.  The sound of frustrated pounding on aluminium continues to resonate down the corridor, seemingly coming from the direction of the vending machine.  As soon as Larry is ready you decide to proceed in that direction.

Yup, Mandle and Stupot+ have the first third.  So....  Protection without the crucifix and potion, a flowerless fruit, and a lament without the angels = rec + x + y, where x and y are still unsolved.

Hintsies time:

Spoiler

What is a flower to a fruit?

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Spoiler

The angles always stick together.

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Mandle has solved the first third of the puzzle, but the rest is still shrouded in mystery!

Protection without the crucifix and potion, a flowerless fruit, and a lament without the angels (11)

Jimmy grabs a battle axe and proceeds down the stairs to the second level.  There he hears the muffled grunts of an oaf trying to escape, the sound of a fountain gently running, and the sounds of someone kicking sheet aluminium resonating down the hall.

Unfortunately Le Brûte's awesome battle axe is embedded in the ceiling above the landing.  The impact, however, has caused several other battle axes to come loose and fall!  Now Jimmy can have his pick!

Jimmy and Larry together are carrying:  loaded revolver (minus several bullets), 3 spare bullets, regurgitated case notes, wallet, woman's earring, blanket/cape, empty duffel bag, charm necklace, old poker chip, 1/2 used purple lipstick, feeler wand, wallpaper, severed arm, latex duck stockings, tobacco pipe, bowler hat, $45 in unmarked bills, nagging burden of guilt, tuft of chest hair, woman's red shoe.

I'm in also.  Just trying to find some quiet time to rehearse the tune and record.

[1NGI8]

I'll take a stab at this cake....

Spoiler

A church signal is a bell, or more specifically the ringing thereof.  So the "center of a church signal" could mean the centre of a bell (ie the "clapper"), or the space inside the bell (the "cavity?"), or indeed the centre of the word "bell" or "ringing" ("el" or "g", respectively).

As I read the clue, this "center" must then be "buried" by "the cake period", implying that it is inserted somewhere in the middle (kind of like you'd bury an unwanted detail in a report).  "The cake period" probably refers to Marie Antoinette's lifetime (ie 18th century), based on her affinity for it over bread, but could also refer to some sort of cake dot (cupcake?) or baking time ("ho" = 1/2 an hour?).

Therefore, my guess is 1NGI8  

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Baron's character's "shoot first"-metality is, even though it's supposed to be an amusing story, just a tad to too much for my taste.

To be fair, this was intended as commentary on Texan civilization, not humanity in general.    But Mandle's point is well earned.

Jimmy quickly ties the thug's tail around his legs, and then kicks him backwards down the stairs.  He forgets to warn Larry first, but his companion seems to have wandered off anyhow.  He does remember to retrieve a handful of chest hair from the thug before he falls, however.  Jimmy also retrieves the lady's slipper (it's red), looks in the hole (the cockroaches have built a city similar in scope and architecture to ancient Rome), and examines the source of the leak (it appears to be dripping from one of many battle-axes embedded in the ceiling above the landing).

[Rosangela Blackwell]

Ha....  I'd already thought of it as a possible solution, but never pursued it as "too obvious" (*kicks self*)

Spoiler

Rosangela Blackwell:  "Red Flower" = Rose, with angry birds inserted inside.  After that came "laboratory" = lab (confusingly split between two words!!!), without =lack, and water source =well.

Indeed, I am ashamed that I didn't get this sooner.  If only I'd seen that redacted hint.....

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[Mandle]

Maybe we should change the OP topic to [VOTE] so we get attention on the Comps Board (and more hopefully more opinions in this thread)?

-------
Best Character: Mandle, because Larry Butler is a character ( ).  I read Sinitrena's twice, but I still couldn't determine exactly what was calling us.

Best Civilization: Sinitrena, because the mysterious sub-aquatic culture seems more, er ...profound.

Most Unique and Intriguing First-Contact:  Mandle, just because Sinitrena's soulful submariners never managed to make contact.  Oh, and because "death by gravity" is kinda unique and intriguing....

Most Unique and Intriguing After-Effects: Sinitrena, because of the unintended extermination of an unknown sentient race.  Who knows?  Maybe we've wiped out many such species already without even realising it?  Interesting to ponder, anyway.

Best Overall Story (Worth 2 points): I've got to give this to Sinitrena.  Mandle's story I thought a little short on detail, given that this was apparently an eye-witness account.  I guess Larry was a man of few words....   I did like how Sinitrena tried to take the topic seriously (unlike the other two entrants... ), and put some real thought and emotion into her tale.  Finally, her story has a degree of plausibility to it that makes it stand out as more substantive. 

Well, deadlines were tight so I just started writing, without really an idea of where this was going.  So it ended up pretty typically silly....

   Crone Star State

   The tornadic tumult rumbled off to the north, safely bypassing the empty highway with the lonely Macho Saloon standing in decadent isolation.  A few of the old siding planks flapped loose against the structure, and the sign along the highway swayed tipsily on its rusty pole.  A tumbleweed bounced along the pavement, stopped briefly outside the saloon, and then thought better of it and continued on its way.   

   Hank Gart, the proprietor, leaned back on his porch rocking chair and stared blankly at the infinite horizon of scrubby emptiness.  He considered working himself up to sitting upright to spit a bit of his chew into the spittoon next to him, but the effort seemed not to be worth the exertion.  Instead he attempted to spit over the edge of the porch from his reclined position, succeeding only in decorating a portion of the banister and several of his chins with oozing brown tobacco hork.  Hank didn't even blink behind his aviator sunglasses and under his over-sized cowboy hat: this was Texas, and his personal liberty to be as slobbish as he wanted stretched as far as the desolation in every direction.

   â€œWell, you see that, Mr. Gart!” Doris the old weathered saloon waitress asked him, emerging onto the porch.  The place was empty but for a few of the regular barflies, so she was out for a quick cigarette break, only the cigarette hung unlit from her lips as she stared spell-bound out over the desert.  Hank reluctantly sat up straight to follow her gaze.

   â€œIf'n it ain't the most fanciest rainbow you never done saw, Mr. Gart?” she exclaimed huskily.  “Why, I expect we outta make a wish!”

   â€œThat's shootin' stars, Hun,” Hank replied dismissively.  “That rainbow t'ain't nothin' but a Texified homo-flag.  He sat back heavily, causing the rocking chair to creak in protest.

   â€œWell, paint me tie-dyed and tie me up like a piñata for the Texas Troopers Reserve Corps!  Look, Mr. Gart!  There's some sorta flyin' saucer a-ridin' the rainbow like an unemployed teenager on a skateboard!” 

   Hank snorted in disbelief, but when he saw the cigarette dangling from Doris' mouth fall to the floor he knew that crazy hundred-year-old waitress must have seen something.  He heaved himself up to his feet unsteadily, like an elephant after hibernating.  He stalked grumpily to the railing, grabbing the slippery spit-covered  bannister for support and cast his gaze out across the sky.

   Neither of them could quite believe what they saw.  A double-helix helicopter with a multi-colored spinning-top suspended beneath it flew merrily through the sky.  It banked, and looped, and even pirouetted before landing gracefully on the empty highway right outside the saloon. 

   â€œWell smack me upside the head like my drunken husband!” Doris gasped in amazement.  “Don't it just look like DaVinci's merry-go-round!?”

   Hank squinted behind his aviator sunglasses, trying to make sense of the spectacle in front of him.  Then a hatch opened up on the underside of the vehicle and a pair of other-worldly creatures emerged.  They looked kind of like brightly colored unicorns, only they had the legs of supermodels and they floated gracefully on giant butterfly wings.  In a trice they lit upon the hood of John Marshall's old Chevy truck, a blue one and a purple one, not twenty feet from the porch.

   â€œGreetings earthlings!” the purple one enthused.  “I am Skybeam Swallowtail, and this is my companion in happiness Boyband Cloudstreaker!  We are very joy-joy happy to meet you!”

   Doris and Hank exchanged brief glances.

   â€œWe ain't Earthians,” Doris waved at them.  “We're Texans!  And you'll git an ear-full from John Marshall if you git footprints all over his windshield!”

   â€œFear not, homely she-Texan!” the blue one -Boyband, was it?- piped up.  “Our appendages are coated in a shammy-like teflon substance!”

   â€œThat's right!” Skybeam agreed.  “We're cleaning your mobile emissions source even as we share this friendly dialog with you!”

   â€œBut whatcha doin' to his wipers?!?” Doris demanded in a panicked tone.  Indeed the strange creatures  were inserting them into various hidden orifices in their bodies.

   â€œFear not, gentle intoxicant huckster!” Boyband assured her, contorting his body to engulf the wiper more thoroughly.

   â€œOur bodily fluids are environmentally safe degreasing agents!” Skybeam chimed.

   But Doris had already left the safety of the porch to wave a tea-towel at them.  “Go on now, shoo!” she shouted.  “Stop!  Stop humping the truck!”

   The commotion had brought half a dozen half-drunk men stumbling out to the porch.  “My truck!” one shouted gruffly, reaching for his gun.  He began shooting wildly into the parking lot, and a couple of his buddies started shooting along too out of sheer confusion.  The mysterious creatures started giggling and fluttering about.

   â€œYour neurological poison projectiles tickle us!” Boyband laughed.  This was somehow provocative to the Texans, who now all opened fire.

   â€œOh, god!” Doris shouted, rolling on the parking lot for fear of being shot.  “I think they're bleeding on me!”

   â€œOur droppings are full of life-enriching nutrients!” Skybeam chortled, for a shell had just bounced off her eye.

   â€œThey have also been known to rejuvenate short-lived species, tone the muscles of the abdomen and buttocks, and sharpen the IQ by up to 40%!” Boyband snickered.  He, too, moved into position above poor Doris and began sharing his life-enhancing powers with her.

   â€œNo!  No!” she screamed.  “I'm melting!  Melting!!!!”

   At last the Texans stopped to reload, and the mystical creatures moved to hover right in front of them.

   â€œHehehehe!” Skybeam giggled.  “That was fun!  I love you, my new cheery friends!”

   â€œAnd I want to marry you!” proclaimed Boyband.  He produced a “tickle-appendage” from his underside and began waving it right in their faces like a feather-duster.  “Share the love!  Share the love!” he kept shouting happily.

   The Texans scattered.  Some dove inside the saloon, others under the rickety porch, while the rest tore off into the empty desert, screaming mad like hyenas on pixie-sticks.  But not Hank Gart.  No, he just collapsed back into his rocking chair, fumbling behind him for his shotgun.

   And then, for a moment, his tormentors were distracted by a wraith-like creature emerging from a kind of cocoon in the parking lot where poor Doris had once writhed.  It was slender and lithe, with wonderfully long and wavy blonde hair and breasts as large and perky as Hank had ever seen in the magazines that wallpapered the saloon's men's room.  The...thing turned towards him and in a perfect soprano said: “Mr. Gart, sir?  I done feel like the happiest love-filled gal this side of the Pecos!  And if'n you don't mind me saying so, I think you look like you need a hug!”

   The chair broke beneath Hank and he rolled to the saloon doors, grabbing his shotgun on the way.  “Stay sharp, boys!” he shouted before diving inside.  “Doris is one of them now!”

Jimmy starts blabbering on about second grade, but the hulking brute in front of him is distracted by a drip that has come through the ceiling.  As he ponders the possible source and specific chemical composition of the strange fluid that is gently pummelling him from above, one can't but notice that a window of opportunity has gently slid open....

In the meantime, Larry continues his wanderings.

So.... we're talking Shakespearean "without" then?  Meaning "around" or "outside of"?

Some sort of time-related red flower, eh?  If only I'd paid attention in that horticultural class that I never took....