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Sinitrena - no doubts about your sincerity,or the quality of your story, which I thought was a good interpretation of the theme. Just that it's difficult to pick something out when there's only one thing to pick. Didn't mean anything else by it.

Sometimes I wonder what makes people read and vote in this competition. It doesn't seem to be the length or number of entries (with the exception of the fact that people who enter also tend to vote... (wink wink nudge nudge jahnocli  )), or the time people actually have to vote.

I think it's time to close this round, don't you agree, Baron?

Normally I'm happy to vote, but with just two (real...fake) entries, and not being able to vote for myself (!), I can only vote for Sinitrena. I'm happy to do that, but it can hardly be sincere in these circumstances...!

For me, the top half of the body is ok, but the legs are unconvincing, with insufficient structure.

[Mandle]

Mandle with Fake Invisible Entry

Ha ha! Definitely the best fake.
Plot, writing and character let down this entry though...maybe a more richly evocative title would have helped?

Terrific artwork.

Where is Ron Jeremy in Ghostbusters?

According to IMDB.com, he is:
Man Behind Barricade (uncredited)(!)

[1st:]

1st: The Sivatherium by Cassiebsg.

2nd: The Phorusrhacos by Flugeldufel.

3rd: The toolache wallaby by Creamy.

[Who ya gonna fake?]

Who ya gonna fake?

It had to be the right kind of corpse. No mutilated bodies - jumpers or victims of violence - just a reasonably fit, (intact!), middle-aged caucasian male that had recently died of drowning. You wouldn't have thought it would be this difficult in a large city with a fair-sized river, but it had been weeks now. Then the call came.

He was perfect. The police and the coroner had done all the 'due diligence'. Unmarried, no record of a family, no dependants, not on anybody's watch lists, no large amounts of money owed or due. A vagrant Welshman, James O'Rourke('Shams' in the local dialect). Looking at him now in the medical examiner's cold room, this poor man had wasted his life. But he would be reborn.

While a tailor made his suit, a whole government department worked on his wallet. His papers had to look real, but worn. A photo of his non-existent wife and daughter had to look awkwardly posed, and the daughter had to look the part. There were a couple of tickets to a (real!) West End show. But most effort went into the unposted letter that he never wrote to his non-existent family in their non-existent home.

The letter needed to be re-written a number of times. There had to be hints of rumours, disguised with a clumsy code -- something that would be enough to arouse curiosity but not suspicion. The spelling and grammar had to be literate, but short of perfect. The letter had to be written in pencil, as though hurriedly jotted in a cramped cabin, but a kind of pencil that would not be washed away after prolonged exposure to seawater. Similarly, the paper had to be resilient enough to resist a good soaking. There were many tests carried out.

Bill Worthing, the chief counterfeiter, gave a wry smile. "Well, mate, you are now Lieutenant Arnold Pilkington of the Royal Navy," he mumbled under his breath, "but 'Shams' is a better name for what you're about to do. Good luck."

Deadline day finally came. Shams looked every inch the naval Lieutenant. The top brass were here. Captain Harrison and a small group of men stood awkwardly around the corpse, steam issuing from their mouths and noses in the sub-zero air. The Captain reached for the inside pocket of Shams' neat jacket, and examined the wallet carefully. "Like you know anything about forgery," thought Bill Worthing.

"Let's hope we've done enough." Harrison was a man of few words, and none of them were compliments. He saluted briskly, and was gone. After a decent interval one or two people laughed nervously, then everyone started talking about the work they'd just completed. The compliments came from the project leader, who knew what a great job his team had just completed..."But we'd better get out of here soon before we all freeze to death."

                                                     . . . . . . . . .

It was a quiet, moonless night off the coast of Portugal. The Meteorological Office had made some calculated guesses about winds and tides, but of course there were no guarantees when it came to the weather. On the deck of the sub, the inflatable containing Lieutenant Pilkington and the two SOE operatives was ready to launch.
The sub slid beneath the surface and the men started paddling towards the dim lights on the horizon. About a mile from shore they tipped Pilkington into the water, and paddled back the way they'd come. They had been told nothing -- for them, it was just another weird operation.

The great thing about chains of command is that you can pass any major problems upstairs. From the fisherman who discovered the body, to the local policeman, then the medical examiner, followed by the District Commissioner, to the local Oberleutnant, and on up to Berlin, the contents of that wallet were examined minutely. There were high-level meetings. Based on the merest hints "deciphered" in the letter, decisions were made to switch regiments further up the coastline.

Erwin Rommel was not happy. The great General had been called up to northern France to oversee coastal defences against the forthcoming Allied invasion. All he could see with this decision was problems, not solutions. Recently, all military decisions were subject to political interference, and this was merely the most recent example. It had all been different in the beginning...

When the Allied invasion came, the Normandy beaches were less well defended than they should have been. 'Arnold Pilkington' played a part in the torrent of disinformation presented by the Allies. So a Welshman with an Irish name helped the English espionage community hoodwink the Germans in Portugal. Ironically enough, this vagrant's post-mortem 'existence' would be worth more than most soldiers in the Allied landings. Here's to you, Shams - The Man Who Never Was.

A 9 changes to a 0?

The final number in a group changes?

The letter "u"

Well done, Baron - you deserved it. I'm virtually polishing my bronze trophy even as we speak.

[An Alliance by WHAM]

An Alliance by WHAM
Best Story: I thought there was insufficient depth to this idea, and it was a little bloated; I felt the content did not justify the length.
Best writing: Seemed a little over-dramatic. Again, I felt that the story did not warrant the flights of fancy
Most Convincing Protagonist: Old White, I guess - the other characters were all very much cast in supporting roles

Ice-cream by Sinitrena
Best Story: The ending left me kind of confused - as a 'rites of passage' story everything seemed uncertain in terms of any development, and it was unconvincing that Kessy's friends would not have noticed her 'otherness'
Best writing: Nice contemporary conversational style
Most Convincing Protagonist: Unfortunately, for me, I don't think there was one

Leave No Stoner Unturned by Baron
Best Story: It was fine, and quite funny, up until the bit where an anteater could eat a toad. Anteaters are specialised animals, and , even allowing for some suspension of disbelief, this would not be credible
Best writing: Nicely written, and good pacing
Most Convincing Protagonist: Toad, but Mouse came a close second!

Final votes:

Most Convincing Protagonist: Leave No Stoner Unturned by Baron
Best Story: Leave No Stoner Unturned by Baron
Best Writing: Leave No Stoner Unturned by Baron

A fox knows many things...
A Short Story
by jahnocli

--------------------------------------------

Reynard Fox walked over to the window and reflected on his secluded surroundings. It was a foggy day, but it didn't matter -- he knew the countryside around here like the back of his paw. He had always loved this damp glade in Lower Woodton forest, with its rough, mossy riverbank, and was counting on such nostalgia to protect him from melancholy at times like this.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the hunched figure of Prickly Hedgehog. Prickly was a ne'er-do-well with a ready smile and a bank of implausible excuses for his frequent brushes with the law. Reynard's heart sank. He couldn't pretend he wasn't in -- Prickly had already seen him.

Reynard glanced at his own reflection and swallowed nervously. He was a cautious, intelligent animal with a quick mind. His friends saw him as a perfect cultivated foil for Prickly's base peasant cunning. The unlikely duo were as thick as proverbial (and actual) thieves, but it was usually Prickly that got caught...

The fog teased like dry ice, masking Prickly's shambling approach.

As Reynard stepped outside and Prickly came closer, he could see a devilish glint in his eye. The wood was unnaturally quiet.

"I have discovered something that may be to our mutual advantage," Prickly whispered slyly, even though there was nobody about. He occasionally came over all Dickensian when he was plotting to relieve some unfortunate of a valuable object. "Are you going to invite me in or are we going to stand around here all day?"

Prickly always seemed ingratiating with strangers, but he could be quite irritable with his friends, hence the nickname. It wasn't just about his spines. Reynard made him some nettle tea. It was supposed to have a calming influence.

Prickly smoothed back the whiskers away from his face. "What's the best kind of crime?", he asked, carefully placing his cup back on the saucer.

"Life's too short for guessing games", replied Reynard shortly. He was a little annoyed with Prickly's conspiratorial mood.

"There are two kinds." continued Prickly, oblivious. "One where nobody knows a crime has been committed, and one where the victim is too embarassed to report it".

"What kind is this?"

Prickly allowed himself a little smile. "With a bit of luck, it could be the former", he said, "but even if we are out of luck, it could still be the latter!", he added triumphantly, rising from his chair.

"That's a lot of words like 'luck' and 'if' and 'could'", countered Reynard.

"Just being cautious, old boy - hear me out..."

Prickly unfolded a newspaper cutting from the Lower Woodton Gazette and laid it out on the table.

"You remember the Woodland Relief Fund?", he asked, "when the river burst its banks downstream and all those poor creatures were made homeless?"

"Of course", replied Reynard, "we both contributed to that fund. Even though we're usually on the wrong side of the law, that doesn't mean we're completely heartless. Three years ago, wasn't it?"

"It was indeed. Well, a little bird told me that only half of that money ever found its way to the victims."

"What?!"

"Yes." Prickly sat down heavily. "We all thought Barnard Owl's credentials were impeccable, but turns out he has an online gambling problem nobody knew about. He's gradually working through his ill-gotten gains."

"Stealing from the homeless, eh? Well, we're no Robin Hoods, but that's pretty low. You obviously have a plan. What is it?"

"It's very simple. We corner Barnard and threaten to expose him unless he pays us some hush money. Not terribly subtle, but it would probably work."

"I've got a better idea," said Reynard.

Prickly leaned forward in his chair.

"If something goes wrong with your plan," Reynard continued, "we'll be implicated. We'll look no better than Barnard, and in the future people will be less inclined to ah, 'look the other way' when it matters."

"My plan is more indirect. We need to enlist the help of one of those flooded-out unfortunates who've received little or no money to date. They'd visit Barnard and ask for some help with their bills or something."

"Barnard's too cute to hide the money at his place. It's going to be stored somewhere else, so, if it's found, he can deny all knowledge."

"He can hardly refuse help to someone who hasn't had any money yet from the Relief Fund. My guess is he'll offer to bring some cash to our unfortunate refugee in the next few days. So we stake out Barnard's place, follow him to his stash, and relieve him of most of his money when the coast is clear."

"Most? Why not all?" Prickly was puzzled.

"It's good to leave a victim some wiggle room. We'll hide a note with the money that's left, say it's a goodwill gesture because we might need his help in the future. He's obviously good at creative accounting. Meanwhile we contact the Lower Woodton Gazette and tell them that Barnard will donate the last of the Fund money to our 'refugee'. Barnard will look good, we'll be a little richer and he'll be in our debt. With the exception of a few flood victims, everybody wins. And that's the perfect crime."

"I'll drink to that!", said Prickly. "How about some more nettle tea?"

                              THE END

I voted for Jahnocli's Parlour Game. I'm not sure what is aiming for, but that is the kind of game that make me curious in how it ends!

That was the idea! Thanks for the vote. I had an idea for last month's MAGS based on the "Incredible Shrinking Man" but it mushroomed into something a bit too complex for this poor noob...

Sweet Mythery by VampireWombat

Spoiler

I liked the graphics, but I couldn't get into the game and the background music was a bit repetitive and annoying

[close]

Jason and the Golden Apple by Slasher

Spoiler

I couldn't get this to work; the opening screen popped up and then none of the buttons worked

[close]

Here be NO Sirens by Kastchey

Spoiler

The best graphics, and I did get some way into the game before getting bored

[close]

My vote goes to:

Spoiler

Here be NO Sirens by Kastchey

[close]

1st. Mr Hairbrow by Hobo
2nd. Hillbilly by Fred Five
3rd. Cecilia Vasa by Blondbraid

Hello. Long-time lurker, very rare poster! Just been watching "The Black Hand Gang", and thinking how wonderful it is! Thanks for making it available.

(to Jahnocli)
Must... resist... urge... to... make... Monty Python... reference...

Don't resist! Go for it!!

I've got an idea for a game which is rapidly becoming difficult to do within the next few days!



When the cursor passes over each image I'd like a speech bubble to come out of their mouths, and when a box is clicked on I'd like a cross to appear in the box, a short message to appear and then be redirected to another room. Like this:



I'm struggling with the code for this: can anyone help?

(PS - Character images are copyright Bryan Ballinger at breadwig.com. I've written to him and he's given me permission to use them in a non-commercial game.)