Time for a new contest

Monday, March 27. 2006

First, what's at stake.

A originally designed, nearly one of a kind (after all if I like it I'm going to keep a copy for myself) bookmark to arrive to the postal address of your choosing. This isn't Amazon so it might not ship within 24 hours, but it'll get there.

What do you have to do to win this major award?

Write something. A story in fact. A story of less than 200 words to get more to the point. And, if you really want to get technical, a story of less than 200 words on the following topic: The breakout hit for a comeback album is entitled "How Playstation Ruined My Life". What happened to inspire this amazing new song?

Now, I know what you're thinking. This is great and all, but I need just a little bit more time. Fine, you have until Friday night at 9pm central time.

If you're afraid that the contest sounds to great to enter since it must have a staggeringly large entry fee, relax and put your wallet away. Just submit the story. This contest is so amazing that coorporate sponsorship is covering all of the expenses.

To enter, write a story and paste it into the comments. If you have any further questions, let me know.

Tell your friends. Tell your family. Tell your blog.

Posted by Mike Miller in Contests at 09:45 | Comments (8) | Trackbacks (3)

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Hey! I thought this was was going to be easier...this one made my brain hurt. Here's an entry to defend the title:

****
Piccadilly Circus was almost deserted, yet she had to make another 100 quid tonight or risk eviction. Again.

How far she’d fallen—she tried not to think about it. She was made of stronger stuff. After all, her ancestors had survived the famine. And Margaret Thatcher.

How she longed to be in a world where events aired on American television didn’t matter. Paddy wouldn’t be proud.

A solitary figure approached. He was Indian, late twenties and headset-free. Perfect.

“Fancy a game, boy?” she asked as she parted her coat.

Light glanced off the badge and handcuffs. “Sorry love, no sale here.”

A package dropped onto the pavement as he twisted the woman’s arm back. Officer Bhatia secured the cuffs, then picked it up. He inspected it for a moment, then turned to face her.

“Been doing this long?’

“No. And it’s not stolen, I swear.”

“Of course, that’s why you had it tucked under your raincoat, tempting passers-by.” He prodded her towards the police car.

“You’re making a mistake,” she warned.

“You already did love. This here’s a Playstation, not a GameBoy.”

Proceeds from the sale of Sinéad O’Connor’s new single will go towards famine relief.

#1 Bonnie (Link) on 2006-03-28 21:16 (Reply)

Oh all right, I'm game to try and knock Bonnie off her perch. grin

*****

“Play with me,” she cooed, posing seductively on the sofa. She’d worn his favourite outfit, barely there black leather and lace.

He shifted in his seat, reaching out to gently caress sleek curves, reverence in his touch.

Need settled in her belly. She ached. She craved.

A light flick.

A twist.

A turn.

Another.

And one more.

She gasped. This was not what she’d expected.

“Oh, yes! Oh, there!”

He sped up, his movements rushed, almost jerky. This is what he’d been waiting for. This was going to be amazing.

A grunt.

A groan.

A scream pierced the air.

“Yes! I’m going to… I’m almost there!”

His hands flew faster, urgency in every touch.

“He scores!”

She jerked off the couch, kicking the grey console that lay innocently on the floor between them with a six-inch-stiletto-covered foot. She turned and flounced from the room.

She hated that bloody Playstation.

#2 Lara Rose (Link) on 2006-03-30 12:39 (Reply)

Finally a challenger. Thanks Bonnie and Lara.

Now if we could just get a few state siders to help lower that shipping charge....

And why is it that every writer seems to be from Canada. Don't you people have anything better to do up there?

#3 kalbzayn (Link) on 2006-03-30 13:48 (Reply)

Good one Lara! And Mike, living in Canada is all about challenges. That's why we like contests like these!

#3.1 Bonnie (Link) on 2006-03-30 19:49 (Reply)

Not really feeling this one. If it were a GameCube maybe, but a Playstation? Let's see what my pea sized brain can come up with. You don't know how much trouble I had compacting this to 199 words

I took a room at the boarding house several months ago since the odd jobs just weren't providing enough dough for the old place. Yeah, I sold everything except the Playstation and TV. I needed some entertainment!

That boarding house sure was creepy. The old lady who lives there rented me a room on the second floor. When she showed me the room, I noticed an old door and asked about it. She said it went to the attic and I should mind my own business. Did I want the room or not?

I tried the knob once or twice. Always locked. Hey, I'm a curious sort. I can't help it. Last week I noticed the door slightly ajar. I heard a noise coming from the stairs. I opened the door and crept my way up. At the top there was a large swivel chair and a sweet 42 inch TV behind it. Static. "Hello, anyone there?"

I got behind the chair and noticed the Playstation. I turned the chair around; there was a kid holding a controller. Yeah, kids play Playstation so what? My God, he was a desicated skeletal figure!

No more Playstation for me. Sold it and the TV.

#4 Z (Link) on 2006-03-31 13:05 (Reply)

I do know how hard it was to cut to 199 words. I just spent 30 minutes cutting about 60 words from mine. Wee ha.

Thanks for the story.

#4.1 kalbzayn (Link) on 2006-03-31 13:17 (Reply)

I had to cut 89. It's like when your baby shrinks right after birth. "Is he gonna die????"

Nice little 80 worder going on at Fictional Musings.

#4.1.1 Z (Link) on 2006-03-31 14:33 (Reply)

Here's my story.

"We were playing Playstation between sets. Johnny popped in the new football game. Right away something felt wrong.

"A year later, we realize hardly anybody is getting pregnant anymore. The docs are confused as hell.

"They do a bunch of tests and learn that football game somehow killed all the sperm of the people watching the game. Nobody believes the docs.

"Eventually, we see that none of the jocks are having babies. None of us rockers. None of the programmers. None of the teenagers. Even most of the dorks had their sperms screwed up.

"They keep working at the problem and sure enough, they proved that it was the Playstation.

"Then the song jumped into my head. The guys came up with music right away.

"Only people left that could knock anybody up were accounts. Boring men with ugly ties. No social lives, but not caring. Reading instead of playing games.

"That's why your real daddy is an accountant.

"Your mom has decided she wants another baby. When the man with the ugly tie comes tomorrow, head out back until your mom calls.

"Now get out of my face, I gotta finish this game before I go to bed."

#5 kalbzayn (Link) on 2006-03-31 13:15 (Reply)

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