[video] WRITING CONTEST RESULTS - "A Winner Must Be Chosen"

[lieutenantantichrist]

Well boys and girls, we got us some results. Lemme see here.

[Blake clears his throat with suitable drama as his Snubbull solemnly hands him an envelope.]

Thanks Steve. Third place and one thousand of the weird-ass local money goes to-

[Rip. Unfold]

Number 13, Ryner Lute, with some kind of fairy tale thing about why you should never let a mime run the government.

Second place, with a prize of five thousand rubles or whatever the fuck, is-

[Rip rip]

Number 2, the one about a little girl getting turned into a mime and somehow nobody gets arrested! It's a good day for mimes, and you bet your ass that's never been said by anybody before. That one was by- [Blake squints at the name] The Joker? Does Batman know you're running around here?

All right, drumroll!

[His Solrock rolls around in a circle to approximate it. pattapattapattapatta-- -tear!]

First prize, 7500 pesos and a date with a weirdo, now belongs to Number 7, the long thing about every single damn prompt cause there's always that kid! Nuhnaymi Chee-ack-eye, step right up!

Now, the special categories. Each of these gets their own chance to go bowling with a lunatic and talk about your pet ghosts.

Most Likely to be True goes to Number 12, some household cleaning tips by Kenneth Elm...Alm...Amelie-- Archibald? Hey, Ken, why didn't you ever tell me your name was Archie?

Now, last but not least yadda yadda yadda, we got Funniest. That is Number 8 and its artistic interpretations, by a landslide. Heather Mason, come on down. Hope you don't want the original of that one part back. I, uh, lost it. [In a fire.]

That's it for whatever the hell this was. [Blake leans back with a satisfied air.] Everybody who got cash, it'll get wired straight to your account. Heather, Archie, and Nuhnaymi, give the paper a ring and they'll set up your dates. Congratulations, and all that crap. I'm gonna go get a beer and do something that isn't reading.

[Steve blows on a noisemaker. It goes toot.]

[[OOC: The writing contest is over! The way voting worked is each vote for first got a story 3 points, a vote for second counted as 2, and a vote for third counted as 1. Big thank you to everyone who voted, everyone who participated, and to the mods for a) letting me do this, b) helping me set it up, and c) going above and beyond the call of duty in providing prizes.

lullabytes, enjoymyatelier, and foolishwren, please come down to this thread to pick your NPCs!]]

Comments

[enjoymyatelier]

...ten years ago from when? Time isn't exactly linear here.

[...he sounds a little more agitated than he usually would]

[lieutenantantichrist]

Two thousand eleven. You know, the year it is back in the normal world. [For him, at least, so that means that's what it's supposed to be. Blake is the normal one, everybody else is wrong.]

What, you worried you missed out? When are you from, anyway?

[enjoymyatelier]

Ah, that would explain it. I'm from around two decades before that.

[IN THE YEAR 199X]

I do have to keep up with the arts, you know.

[lieutenantantichrist]

Hah, no wonder you're behind the times.

[That was a great year.]

What are you, one of those dicks who hangs around galleries, swishing wine and acting like a bunch of green with an orange stripe on it is all deep and meaningful?

[enjoymyatelier]

"The times" aren't worth keeping up with, I'd say.

...speaking of which, I've never been particularly fond of that... movement, myself, but I'd imagine you've never been to a proper gallery to actually experience art.

[lieutenantantichrist]

What are you, one of those dicks who'd rather be hanging around in a top hat a hundred years ago?

[Now that he says it, he can really, really see this guy in a top hat.]

I've seen every kind of dick it's possible to spray on a wall. Does that count?

[enjoymyatelier]

You say that as though it's a bad thing.

[besides the magic was better because nasu.]

And... no. Not remotely.

[lieutenantantichrist]

Sure it is. Everybody hates those guys. Who the hell would rather have horse carriages and fancy clothes instead of cars and jeans like a damn normal person?

[Don't even try to explain nasuverse magic to Blake, unless you have some very clear charts and a whole lot of time on your hands.]

Hey, some of them are real artistic. Buncha detail and perspective.

[enjoymyatelier]

Oh, I don't know, someone who has taste, perhaps?

[and then it still probably won't make sense]

Why don't you frame them and submit them to an art show, then? Perhaps scribble "R. Mutt" on them, as well. They're certain to love that.

[don't ask him how he feels about dada]

[lieutenantantichrist]

Fine, go ahead. Have fun with the Napoleonic Wars and polio.

[He'd get the "something something bang people to give them magic" part.]

I don't see what a dog has to do with anything.

[enjoymyatelier]

...Touche. Granted, my reasoning isn't entirely related to cultural aspects... but I rather doubt you'd believe the actual reasons.

[that isn't even common]

No, I was talking about Marcel Duchamp's "masterpiece" The Fountain. ...which, granted, you probably haven't heard of, so, basically, a man found a discarded urinal, turned it on its side, scribbled that on it, and called it art.

...Granted, its intent was satirical, but I can't approve of it even in that sense.

[lieutenantantichrist]

Try me. As long as it doesn't have anything to do with aliens or magic, I might even believe you.

[Oh, well as long as it's special occasion magic-banging, that makes sense.

He stares at him for a minute.] That's art? Shit, I could write my nam on pieces of garbage all day long.

Satire? How's "here's a urinal" funny?

[He thinks it over.]

Well. It's kind of funny.

[enjoymyatelier]

Based on that... no, you're not going to believe a word of it.

Though, I'll tell you that it's got absolutely nothing to do with aliens, so there's that, at least.

People are still having debates about whether it counts as art or not, which I suspect was the intent of the thing in the first place. There's the satire.

[lieutenantantichrist]

So what, you wanna be an old timey wizard in a top hat?

Oh good. No aliens. That's fine, then.

[Blake crosses his arms and pictures that.] So it got a bunch of stuck-up fancy assholes to spend fuckin' years talking about a urinal.

[He cracks a smirk.] I don't know art, but I know what I like.

[enjoymyatelier]

Why are you so hung up on the top hat?

[...]

...well, yes. That is the joke.

[lieutenantantichrist]

Cause you gotta be a special kind of prick to wear one. Like those old-timey glasses things that're just for one eye.

So even artists fuckin' hate the kinds of dicks who go to museums?

[enjoymyatelier]

...there is nothing wrong with either top hats or monocles.

Also, artists aren't some kind of monolith, you know. It's surprising, but it's true!