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Oh no!  They killed Kenny!  Or, um, Mandle!  Those bastards! 

[Page 17-18: illustration of multiple Gretel's]

Page 17-18: illustration of multiple Gretel's

Ouch. My eyes.

C'mon.  It's a common illustration technique for showing terrific amounts of activity! 

I live under a glacier about 2 hours outside of Toronto.  It's actually quite pleasant here, except for the Toronto bit. 

But I don't get out much.  Sometimes I think the outside world might be worth a shot, but the whole subterranean-lair-scene just seems to suck you back in, you know? 

[Page 1: illustration of Gritty Gretel with a tool-belt, looking over some plans drawn with crayon]

Gritty Gretel Builds a House

Page 1: illustration of Gritty Gretel with a tool-belt, looking over some plans drawn with crayon
GRITTY GRETEL  BUILDS A HOUSE
Written by Baron von Baron
Illustrated by [Your Name Here!]
Published by Manic Mandle Mega Books Inc.
Copyright © 2019
All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher or a certified affidavit signed by a coven of ferrets.

Page 2-3: illustration of a bright eyed girl with a look of determination, with friends in background doing activities that exemplify their names.
Gritty Gretel was not fast like Fleet-Foot Fanny. 
She was not strong like Bicep Billy.
She wasn't anywhere near as smart as Clever Claira.
But Gritty Gretel had determination.  That means that when she set her mind to something, she kept at it, no matter what.

Page 4-5: illustration of Gritty Gretel playing in the sand at the beach, with naysayer friends disdainfully looking on.
One day Gritty Gretel decided that she was going to build a house.  She shovelled some sand and she shingled with shells and she worked away the day.
“You can't build a house out of sand,” said Downer Dayna.
“You can't build a house in this heat,” said Lazy Lucy.
“You can't build a house, period!” said Judgy Jackie.
But Gretel was determined.  She clenched her teeth and glared a stare and worked and worked and worked.

Page 5-6: illustration of a pensive Gretel next to a silly sandy ruin of a house
By the end of the day Gretel had made a beautiful, um.... ruin?  Well, whatever it was, it wasn't quite a house.  The sand sagged and the walls wept and the roof just wouldn't stay up.
“I told you so,” said Downer Dayna.”
“I told you so,” said Lazy Lucy”
“I told you so,” said Judgy Jackie.
But Gritty Gretel wouldn't listen to that guff.  She was determined to build her house.  She said:
“Today was tough and I've had enough, but tomorrow's another day.
I tried something new, learned a thing or two, and I'll try things a different way.
It looks like I failed despite all I travailed, but I'm not one to give in,
I'll stick out my chin and wear a brave grin and I'm going to try again.”

Page 7-8: illustration of Gretel working hard draping wool over sticks with naysayers looking on.
The next day Gritty Gretel tried weaving a house out of wool.  She weaved some windows and spun some spans and worked away the day.
“You can't build a house out of wool,” said Downer Dayna.
“You can't build a house in this wind,” said Lazy Lucy.
“You can't build a house, period!” said Judgy Jackie.
But Gretel was determined.  She clenched her teeth and glared a stare and worked and worked and worked.

Page 9-10: illustration of a pensive Gretel next to a silly wispy web of a house
By the end of the day Gretel had made a beautiful, um.... web?  Well, whatever it was, it wasn't quite a house.  The wool wisped and the walls waved and the roof seemed to wiggle in the wind.
“I told you so,” said Downer Dayna.”
“I told you so,” said Lazy Lucy”
“I told you so,” said Judgy Jackie.
But Gritty Gretel wouldn't listen to that guff.  She was determined to build her house.  She said:
“Today was tough and I've had enough, but tomorrow's another day.
I tried something new, learned a thing or two, and I'll try things a different way.
It looks like I failed despite all I travailed, but I'm not one to give in,
I'll stick out my chin and wear a brave grin and I'm going to try again.”

Page 11-12: illustration of Gretel working hard stitching straw together with naysayers looking on.  A few drops fall from the sky.
The next day Gritty Gretel tried stitching a house together with straw.  She stitched some stairs and stuck some stoops and worked away the day.
“You can't build a house out of straw,” said Downer Dayna.
“You can't build a house in the rain,” said Lazy Lucy.
“You can't build a house, period!” said Judgy Jackie.
But Gretel was determined.  She clenched her teeth and glared a stare and worked and worked and worked.

Page 13-14: illustration of a pensive Gretel next to a rickety resemblance of a straw house
By the end of the day Gretel had made a beautiful, um.... fort?  Well, whatever it was, it wasn't quite a house.  The straws snapped and the walls wagged and the roof seemed to rattle in the rain.
“I told you so,” said Downer Dayna.”
“I told you so,” said Lazy Lucy”
“I told you so,” said Judgy Jackie.
But Gritty Gretel wouldn't listen to that guff.  She was determined to build her house.  She said:
“Today was tough and I've had enough, but tomorrow's another day.
I tried something new, learned a thing or two, and I'll try things a different way.
It looks like I failed despite all I travailed, but I'm not one to give in,
I'll stick out my chin and wear a brave grin and I'm going to try again.”

Page 15-16: illustration of Gretel's various attempts, each one sillier than the last.
Over the next few days Gritty Gretel tried again and again.  She built a house out of marshmallows and candy, but it melted in the sun.  She built a house out of cardboard and tape, but it kept tumbling over when big trucks went by.  She built a house out of bricks and rubber bands, but she ended up getting stuck to the chimney! 

But every time she failed Gritty Gretel learned from her mistakes.  She learned that sand is really good for draining water away, and that sticks work best if they are straight and thick.  She learned that bricks can hold a lot of weight above them, and that wool is great for making things cozy. 

Everyday her friends said “I told you so,” but Gritty Gretel never listened.  She simply repeated her rhyme again and again and again:
“Today was tough and I've had enough, but tomorrow's another day.
I tried something new, learned a thing or two, and I'll try things a different way.
It looks like I failed despite all I travailed, but I'm not one to give in,
I'll stick out my chin and wear a brave grin and I'm going to try again.”

Page 17-18: illustration of multiple Gretel's with determined expressions working feverishly on something hidden by a cloud of dust.  Naysayers are looking on.
So another day came and Gritty Gretel started building her house again.
“You can't build a house silly girl,” said Downer Dayna.
“You can't build a house crazy kid,” said Lazy Lucy.
“You can't build a house at all!” said Judgy Jackie.
But instead of Gretel's usual rhyme all they heard was silence.  The hammering had stopped.  The sawing had stopped.  Slowly the dust began to settle.

Page 19-20: illustration of Gritty Gretel grinning widely.
The first thing they saw was Gritty Gretel, grinning from ear to ear.  And then the dust settled a little more....

Page 21-22: illustration of a wonderful house with a lawn of sand, brick walls on the lower parts of the house supporting sturdy (medieval?) wood framing with straw stuck in between, with a roof of seashells and beautiful woolen curtains and pennants.  Also a tower and twisty framed windows made out of interesting sticks.
...And they saw the most amazing house they'd ever seen in their entire lives!
“How on earth...?” gaped Downer Dayna.
“I just can't believe it!”  exclaimed Lazy Lucy.
“Holy Cow!  That's awesome!” gushed Judgy Jackie. 
Gritty Gretel smiled wider still.  She said:
It took lots of tries and I'd be telling lies if I told you it was easy to do,
But if I got irked when things didn't work then I'd go ahead and try something new,
Don't stop to wail, bounce back when you fail, and don't be afraid to start,
You never do know how far you might go if you try something with all of your heart.”

Page 23: illustration of Gretel enjoying her amazing house with many friends.
The end.

My entry is coming together well.  Should be in by tonight or tomorrow night at the latest. 

Oh, cool!  I wrote a book for my daughter for her fifth birthday using only the words she knew how to read by sight (instead of sounding out).  She only knew 100 words or so, which I remember made it very difficult to write anything that made any sense.  Let's just say that the deeper message that you find in the better children's stories was somewhat lacking in that outing....   

Congratulations Sinitrena!  It was a well-deserved victory in my opinion (and in my voting irregularities....    )

I feel like I've got to up my writing game for you literary types.  The easy votes from the likes of Ponch and Mandle are hard to come by this summer. 

Did JudasFm just go on a power trip against power trips?   

Is there nobody around who wants to read a couple stories and vote? This round, it's not even that much to read! 

Yeah!    Sinitrena's story was very engaging, and mine was really short.  Get them on your summer reading list, peeps!

[Best Friendship:]

Best Friendship: I vote Sinitrena, although this particular story didn't feature the friendship very prominently.
Best Difference: I vote Sinitrena.  The criminal and detective dynamic does put the friends on opposing sides, but the two characters do share a lot in common: a sense of duty to protect others, an obsession with the job which has them working all hours, a meticulous mind for detail, an audacity to bend rules for the greater good....  This is more a criticism of police officers than writing, but the divide between law breakers and law enforcers personality-wise is uncomfortably thin.
Best Character: I vote Sinitrena for Inspector Coultry.  I liked how you got the reader inside his head, even the random tangents and the moods.
Best Story: I cast two votes for Sinitrena in this category: the build-up of suspense in this story was awesome!  I thought you had very good pacing, especially in the first two thirds of the story.  Things kind of felt a bit rushed towards the end, but I totally get the whole deadline pressure thing.     I think a bit of editing and reworking, especially towards the end, and you'd have yourself a real gem of a story. 
Best Writing: I'm going with Sinitrena for the excellent atmosphere.    Things could have been a little tighter editing-wise, as there were a LOT of typos: "leader bound book," "thread to well-being," "two older man," "collogues," "decision in a fracture of a second," and many more.... 

So, in summary, I thought Sinitrena wrote a riveting story in need of a few edits, although I was a bit disappointed by the lack of focus on theme.

I'm just too wiped from working in the humidity all day to vote now.  I'll do it tomorrow for sure, though.  In the mean time, I must consider each category carefully, weighing the merits of every entry in the back of my mind.   

Partners at Crime

   â€œI don't care what the chief said!” Tex-Cow grumbled, yanking on the steering wheel to narrowly avoid another vehicle.  “That fat pig can stuff his politically-correct initiative up his bacon tube and smoke it!”

   â€œI can see that you're angry-” soothed Gander from the passenger seat before the seat-belt cut off his words mid-neck due to the sudden braking of the squad car.  A mother duck and a line of ducklings completely blocked the road ahead.

   â€œDamn straight I'm angry!” Tex-Cow shouted, banging on the dash with his hoof as the squad car lurched to a stop.  An avalanche of doughnut debris threatened to cascade down onto the console and radio, but Gander was able to push it back to a precarious equilibrium with several quick beats of his left wing.  “Calling me insensitive,” Tex-Cow continued.  “I'll have you know I'm very sensitive to that remark!  I'll show you insensitive....”  Tex-Cow began unrolling his window.

   â€œDon't do it, T-Cow!” Gander gasped, regaining his breath.  “It would be unprofessional to holler at pedestrians while in uniform!”

   â€œCan't they waddle any faster!” Tex-Cow vented.  He turned the cruiser's siren on briefly to hurry the little ducklings along.

   â€œSorry!” Gander called out the window.  “Mechanical glitch.  Keep walking.  Stay safe, little ones!”

   â€œI mean, I don't know how everyone ended up eating chicken when ducks just waddle around at the speed of growing grass,” Tex-Cow muttered to himself.  “Seem like a natural target to me.  Just following the line out into moving traffic like lemmings....  For farm's sake!  She's got like forty kids!  Darwin is rolling over in his grave!”

   â€œI think it's a school trip,” Gander said flatly.

   â€œI think it must be some kind of welfare fraud.  Better pull them over just to be sure.”

   â€œWhat?  No!  We're on a call!”

   â€œIt's a slippery slope, G,” Tex-Cow explained.  “You let a momma duck away with welfare fraud, and the kids lose all respect for authority.  Then they grow up to be barn-burning hooligans, or worse.”

   â€œCattle rustlers?”

   â€œPsh -yeah!  I'm just saying, if it walks like a duck-”

   â€œ-It might be a duck?”

   â€œYou know what your problem is, G?” Tex-Cow opined.

   â€œAn overly developed set of patience?”

   â€œHardy har har.  No, your problem is you're too nice.”

   â€œBy humouring you?”

   â€œHumouring me?  Humouring me!?!  Now that's low, G.”

   â€œSo.... not really very nice, then.”

   â€œWell, no, hang on there.  You still being mean in a nice way.”

   â€œDoesn't really seem like a real problem to me.”

   â€œBut see, it is a problem when-”

   â€œRoad.  Clear.  Go.”

   â€œWhat?  Oh, shit, the call.”  The squad car sirens started screaming again as it peeled out of the intersection.

   â€œSo, my point is,” Tex-Cow continued as the squad car sped along, “that you come across as too nice, even if you're not really all that nice on the inside.  You're kind of like a Hollywood starlet like that.”

   â€œI'm a Hollywood starlet?  All polish on the outside, but real ugly on the inside?  I'll have you know I hiss at people that come into my perceived territory.  Things can get real ugly on the outside if I choose to lose to control.  I just don't choose to do so.”

   â€œOh is that a fact?  Sounds like I struck a bit of a nerve.  Am I getting too close to the real you, G?  Am I infringing on your perceived territory?  Not the hissing, G!  I can't take the hissing!”

   â€œSometimes you deserve a good hissing....”

   â€œHissing.  What are you, a snake?”

   â€œWhat are you, a bat?”

   â€œBat?  What does that have to do with anything?”

   â€œAre you blind?  This is it.”

   â€œOh, shit!”

   The squad car squealed to an inconspicuous stop outside of a run down house on the wrong side of the moose tracks.

   â€œDispatch, this is car 23 on the scene at 763 Fluffball Avenue,” Gander radioed.  “Officers proceeding on hoof.”

   Tex-Cow was already out of the car and crouching behind it, pistol drawn.  Gander proceeded at a more measured pace, waddling back to the trunk to rummage around for his old billy club.

   â€œDamn it, G!” Tex-Cow shouted.  “Get out of the line of fire!  I'll cover you!”

   â€œRelax, T-Cow.  It's a 3-14 in progress, not Armageddon.  Do you still have those snake cuffs?”

   â€œI am fully equipped and ready for action, sir!”

   â€œOK.  Put that pistol away and play cool with me for a bit.”  Gander put his police hat on and began waddling through the decrepit gate of a once picketed white fence.

   â€œThat's against my professional judgement, G,” Tex-Cow called from behind the car.  “Recommend sweeping for snipers first, then calling in the cavalry to mop up!”  In a flash surprising for a cow of his girth, Tex-Cow ran out from behind the car and dove over the fence, tucking into a somersault roll and ending up crouched behind a doghouse in the front yard.  Gander continued his slow approach, climbing the creaky steps up onto the tiny landing outside the front door.  He gently knocked, and then did his best to strike a pose of non-threatening authority.

   Tex-Cow peaked out from behind the doghouse, pistol still drawn.  His every sense strained to detect the slightest hint of danger.  He thought he heard a low grumble, but that might just be his fourth stomach.  Suddenly a chunk of clapboard siding fell loose from the house just above the door, dangling back and forth in front of Gander by just one nail.  Tex-Cow opened fire.

   â€œStop!  Stop!” Gander shouted, as several more chunks of siding began falling around him.  Tex-Cow did stop, more because he was out of bullets than out of any inclination to stop shooting.  This whole place gave him the creeps, from the vacant windows to the minefield of dog loafs all over the yard.  And what was with that disembodied growling that seemed to haunt the premises?  He stooped to reload and for the first time got a good look at the interior of the doghouse.

   â€œHey, G?” he called. 

   A couple more clapboards fell off the house, along with an old shutter.  “What's on your mind, T-Cow?” Gander replied, trying to casually sidestep the raining debris.

   â€œWhat exactly is a 3-14?”

   â€œIndecent exposure in public.  Why do you ask?”

    Tex-Cow looked back into the doghouse.  There was definitely a whole lot of crotch licking going on, but he couldn't say that anything was being exposed per se....  Oh, no wait, there it was.  Yeah, that was a whole lot of nasty exposure right there.  The 200 pound pit bull smiled back at him and growled maliciously.  Why wasn't it ever the teacup chihuahuas who did perverted things?  Suddenly the dog lunged at him.

   â€œShit!  G!  Shit!  Get him off!  He's humping my leg!  Oh god!  Call for back-up!  Call SWAT!  G!!!!!!”

   There was a loud crack and then an ominous groan.  Both Tex-Cow and the pit bull looked up to see the whole facade of the house tilting towards them.  The dog gave Tex-Cow's leg a couple more thrusts, then let go, then remounted for one more quickie, then finally fled towards the gate.  He was almost there when the gable of the house smashed down on him.  Tex-Cow blinked in disbelief from the window frame that had miraculously landed around him.  He turned back to check on his partner who was standing in the empty door frame wearing an expression of equal disbelief.  The door still stood, unsupported for a few moments, before the whole of the remaining house collapsed inward with a thunderous crash.

   Tex-Cow stood there, gob-smacked, as Gander casually waddled down the steps that were the only part of the structure that were still intact.

   â€œBook him, T-Cow,” Gander said.  “If we get him back to the station fast enough for processing, we might have enough time for that 6-13 in progress.”

   â€œHey, G?”

   â€œYeah, T-Cow?”

   â€œWhat exactly is a 6-13?”

   â€œOfficers bowling, buddy.  Shake a leg, will ya?” 

Yes, I'd like one extension please.  And a side order of inspiration.  Ooo, and an energy hit too, please.  Hey, is there a combo discount? 

As my excuse, there's this DIY reno thing that's been eating up all my time lately...

I found using my left hand for all regular computer tasks really alleviated pressure on my right wrist, which I would use exclusively for precision stuff (like drawing).

Don't worry.  Mandle dies at least once every competition.   

It's a Mandle thing. 

OK.  So let me get this straight.  We're going for like a Thelma & Louise kinda thing.  Or maybe a Watson & Holmes kinda thing.  But not a Sonny & Cher kinda thing, or a Lennon & McCartney kinda thing.  What about a Bert & Ernie kinda thing?  Or a Sam & Frodo kinda thing?  How close is too close?!??  And what about the minimum degree of personality difference?  Would a Batman & Robin kinda thing work?  What about a Chip & Dale kinda thing?  I mean, I get that a Bill & Ted kinda thing wouldn't fly, but that a Wooster & Jeeves kinda thing would be great, but I'm just trying to feel out the middle ground. 

Congratulations to JudasFm for a well-deserved win, and congratulations to Mandle for a timely resurrection!   

I blame my poor showing at stage directions on all the Shakespeare I had to read back in school.  His stage directions are basically limited to enter/exit, aside/aloud, and dies.  Well, except at the beginning of scenes, but lucklessly that part of the play didn't survive.... 

See you all next time!

[Most Distinct Voice:]

Most Distinct Voice: I'm going with Mandle.  All his characters were extremely well differentiated, even his three workers  (Jules was the nice-guy, Drue the cynic, Bob the jerk).  I struggled a bit differentiating the hosts from each other in JudasFm's piece.

Best Play: I felt Mandle had the more creative stage ideas (the mirror for example), while JudasFm had the better stage directions (light narrowing to set mood and focus, adversaries circling each other).  The thing that tips me towards giving my vote to Mandle is his ambition to push the envelope away from convention (his use of special effects, for example), but also his use of clear formatting.  I kept getting confused with JudasFm's script trying to differentiate stage directions from speech, which broke the atmosphere for me. 

Best Writing:   I'm voting JudasFm.  Mandle had some wild and zany things going on, but I felt he rushed some great opportunities for lines (i.e. where's the one-liner delivered by Luke when he escapes, telling you he really is a genius or really is dim-witted or, better yet, leaves you wondering thereafter?  ).  JudasFm used concise language to dramatic effect, which I felt suited the characters and atmosphere well.

Best Plot: I think it's gotta be JudasFm for a suspense-filled scene.  Mandle's play was ambitious to say the least, but in wrenching the viewer so quickly from one extreme to the other I feel some of the plot arc was lost on me.

Consarn it!  Mandle done up and died, right before the voting was about to be proceedin'!   

[Love's Luckless Lackey]

Love's Luckless Lackey

The following is almost certainly a fragment of Love's Luckless Lackey, a romantic comedic play mentioned in other texts but sadly not surviving to the present day.  It was written by Agnes C. Willis, a former seamstress and aspiring playwright of approximately 48 years.  It is unknown how long she worked on the script, but the text seems to have been completed in late spring of 1900.  Miss Willis persuaded John W. Houghton, an impresario of some notoriety, to stage the play at the Grand Oleander Theater in her native Galveston, Texas.  The following exchange takes place between two friends, apparently commiserating in a saloon: 

Dutton?:              ...was but a lad of fifteen
                 You reckon'd on stumblin' between
                 A life of fame 'n' fortune golden
                 T' no lady enslaved; no man beholden
                 But looky now, John Lee Carney
                 You've got debts in both love n' money!

Carney:      I ain't done called you friend these years
                 To piss on me when I've no cheer
                 So lest you got no 'spiring words
                 Head on back to them rangin' herds

Dutton:      Buck up, buttercup!  I can't bear
                 To see a friend so pruned by care
                 You're like a mustang on the range
                 Whose strength were sapped by age and mange
                  These worries have done brought you low
                 But in the end you oughtta know
                 No matter how the trail might wend
                 I'll always be there for you friend.

Carney:      I know, Dutton.  Thy words might err
                 But your some kinda pardner rare
                 What stays through storm and pox and drought
                 You're my truest friend, I've no doubt

Dutton:      Then listen here, stop your wallowin'
                 Self-piteous whiskey swallowin'
                 Get back up in that saddle high
                 And make it right, the time is nigh!

Carney:      That ship is sailed, that train be missed
                 That egg is cracked, that skunk is pissed
                 That money's spent, that bell is rung
                 That glass is broke, that trap is sprung
                 That man is hanged, quartered and drawn
                 That bridge is burnt, that girl is gone.

Dutton:      That train don't leave till half-past eight
                 And Lucille, on it, might yet wait
                 And Grayson with his ill-got gains
                 Will be a-riding that same train
                 So get on yer horse and ride it down
                 'Fore it gets too far out of town!

Carney:      My love and hate trundlin' away
                 Me, just an empty shell in th' Bay....

Dutton:      Spineless, gutless, weepin' git!
                 Get out there and-

Carney:                                -Consarn it!
                 I lost!  I bet high, and I crashed!
                 My soul is crushed.  My hopes are dashed.
                 There ain't be nothin' gonna come
                 From some last-ditched gallant charge dumb.

Dutton:      That's it, then?  Yer resigned to be
                 A footnote in Lucille's hist'ry?
                 An empty husk in the abyss
                 Dripping vinegar and piss?
                 What are you afraid of, Carney?
                 She might say no?  Or might say yea?

Carney:      Damn it, Dutton!  Respect my woe.
                 I'll bust yer head if'ya push me so!

Dutton (aside):   There's some steam in his engine yet,
                  Maybe somma powder's not wet...
        (aloud)  I heard ol' Grayson had an eye
                  When purdy Lucille's a-dancin' spry
                  I would-no' be half-surprised
                  To hear 'twas all a plan devised
                  O' his, t'be on that very train
                  Where Lucille rode, alone in pain
                  A broken heart on her sleeve wound
                  To a-score her on the rebound!

Carney:      Damn you, Dutton!  Them's fightin' words!
         
Barkeep:    No shootin' in my bar, you turds!

Dutton:      Save your bullets for the road
                 You be right, there's a debt owed
                 By yer arse to the saddle hard
                 For Lucille, yer love cross-starred!
                 Enough of yer sorrow and pride
                 Let's chase 'em down, friend.  Let's ride!
         
Sadly that is all that survives.  We can only presume that Carney was persuaded to gallop after the lovely Lucille and the antagonistic Grayson.  The play seems to have been well-received on its opening night on Friday September 7, 1900, according to a partial review recovered from The Daily News published the following morning.  The play was almost certainly in the process of being performed the following evening when the city of Galveston, Texas was struck by the great hurricane of 1900.  Although records are patchy, the theatre district was entirely obliterated by the storm surge and all present were almost certainly killed.