Poetic Justice - Contest Entries

[Wyvern]

The contest:

 

The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language defines "poetic justice" as "an outcome in which virtue is rewarded and vice punished, often in an especially appropriate or ironic manner." As the title of my new compilation CD suggests, poetic justice is one of the central themes of the CD and plays a major roll in its messages...

 

The task I ask of you, the contestants, is to write any piece of writing about (or in some way incorporating) the concept of poetic justice. The piece of writing can be a story, a poem, or anything else that inspires you, just so long as it incorporates the topic. Note that poetic justice does not have to be an outcome in which both virtue AND vice are rewarded accordingly, but can also be about either if you want. Entries will be judged on the basis of effort, creativity, and quality writing.

 

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

 

The contest ends February 6th. No entries will be taken or considered after that date.

 

This thread should only contain entries submitted to the contest, all other things about "Poetic Justice" should be posted in the thread entitled "Poetic Justice", located [link=pub79.ezboard.com/fthemightypenfrm0.showMessage?topicID=276.topic newwindow]here[/link].

[Guest Minta Rose]

Perfect, an excuse to do what's needed doing for awhile. Granted that it'll be out in Reality, but that should make all this more poetic in the end. I'll check back in in a few weeks.

 

[Edit: Oh yeah, Tzim-persona writing, 'deleting nothing between maiden and mage'--anyone remember that? Heh.]

[Vincent Silver]

Mind's Eye

The thing that sees all is the Mind's Eye

When it punishes you for your crime you'd whish you'd die

You kill one person or any

It's tourture you withthe force of many

It deals justice but no reward

In it's hands it hold your life chord

A snip and it has done it's job

It will punish you for murder,decit,or rob

 

My entry! Short like all my other poems!

[The Portrait of Zool]

Hmm...

 

Yesss.

~Zool~

 

 

He who goes around, comes around.

[Vlad]

A poem of Vice

 

Through the woods I wander, upon a blissful eve,

My heart is all asunder, upon this starlit eve,

To the fair maiden, my love I shall proclaim,

I am the best of men, and lower she shant aim,

As I travel to the hovel, her home in these lands,

An idea I get quite novel, to put a ring in her hands,

When I travel more I see, I have no ring nor chain,

A theif I shall need be, to end my disdain,

Farther I go, go deeper, into a serene sin,

'Til I find the forest's keeper, steal I shall from him,

When he's found I see him laden, covered in gold coin,

I will rob for my maiden, only me -in marriage- she will join,

Alas, I have been thwarted, now he gallops on a noble steed,

Without you she can't be courted, I bellow wishing him to heed,

He steals my love away, 'tis him she chose for all of time,

And now to this very day, I dream of her beeing mine.

 

Here is my poem... Do I get extra points for using 'shant'?

 

===Vlad the rage-aholic===

I can't live without rage-ahol!

 

"Me is smart. Dur." -Stick

[Guest Minta Rose]

A summary of the week. Gods I hate diaries. And if you think THIS looks fake, get me drunk (REALLLLLY drunk.) and convince me to show you the 1992 World Wildlife Fund planner I wrote in that year:

 

Saturday: Quarrel re: Wednesday re: being locked out of the house. Damn nice to be unable to get into your own home it is, especially when _the other occupant is inside_. The problem got a bit more plain.

 

 

Monday: Brooded on Vegas.

 

 

Tuesday: Wrote PM. Deleted it. Wrote another one. Let it sit for a few hours. Deleted it. Left window open for a few more hours. Closed window, booted up EQ. Played for a few, make that several hours. Was called away to snuggle, left Z high and dry (he lived). Camped, reporting snuggliness. Certain parties were peeved, I was amused.

[Gyrfalcon]

Easy... almost too easy. He thought, sliding through the shadows that were his home, his eyes picking out details that were lost to the light-dwellers. He smiled and ran his tongue over his teeth for the thousandth time as he silently closed in on his prey.

 

She walked through the night, but without the confidence of her stalker. Used to the streets during the day, they became a different place during the night. Darker, with a menacing aura they lacked during the hours when the sun rode the sky. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she unconsciously began to walk faster, somehow sensing that she was being followed.

 

The hunter watched his prey move faster, and knew that the prey had scented the predator. But this prey had no chance of getting away, and could only prolong the inevitable. He likewise began to move faster, abandoning stealth for speed.

 

The woman heard footsteps behind her, on what had been a deserted street. Far from any hope of help, she reacted the only way she could think to- she ran. Within a few blocks, the breath burned in her throat, and she stumbled blindly, turning corners randomly, hoping to throw off her pursuer.

 

The hunter’s lips skinned back in a feral smile, the moonlight limning his teeth, lingering longer on two of them then the others. His blood surged and hummed in the thrill of the chase. The woman turned right, and he felt what was almost disappointment- she had made her mistake already.

 

Underneath the momentary disappointment rose the euphoria of the kill, so close he could almost taste it.

 

The woman’s eyes widened as she took in the back of the alley, a solid brick wall without the handy crates or barrels that the heroes of action films used to scramble over. Turning around with her back to the wall, she saw her hunter enter the alley, walking calmly now, confidently. She searched desperately for escape, but found none. More quickly then she could believe, he was only a few feet away.

 

“I- I have money, please take it, but don’t hurt me-“ She said, but broke off in a scream as his hands shot out. One hand covering her mouth, twisting her head to the side, the other pinning her shoulder to the wall.

 

“I don’t want your money, baby... all I want is your sweet, sweet blood.” the man said with a sinister laugh. He pressed against her and she tried to scream through his hand, hoping someone, anyone could hear her. But no one did. No one came. She felt pain flare in her neck as he bent his head and bit her, and slowly, her vision dimmed as her blood pumped out of her body.

 

-----

 

The predator licked his lips as he stepped away from the woman’s body. He smeared blood from his mouth across the sleeve of his jacket as he wiped the blood from his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth again, all normal- except for the two surgically enhanced canines. The doctor he had paid for them had thought he was part of the Goth crowd, and was willing to make the cosmetic change for a nice fee. But the change had not been merely a cosmetic effect, but to make the man more fully what he knew he was- a hunter of men, a drinker of blood. A vampire.

 

The self-dubbed vampire bent down and dragged the woman’s corpse into the corner of the alley, where she hopefully wouldn’t be found for a while. He knew that the discovery of her body was inevitable, but best not to let the prey know where the hunter had recently been. As it was, a few of his other prey, caught and consumed, had been found by the cattle. They had panicked, of course, but the only ones who knew the truth had been laughed down. The ‘vampire’ laughed- the cattle thought that vampires were a myth. Well, he was no myth...

 

Leaving the alley, the man glanced left and right, confirming that there were no watchers. Then he left, walking more slowly now, blending with the shadows and becoming one with them to avoid notice. Yet as stealthy as he was, one watcher saw him. One watcher took note of the alley he emerged from, and stole into it. The watcher impassively surveyed the blood splashed on the wall of the alley, and the corpse stuffed in the corner of the alley like so much trash. Then the watcher left, to go report what she had seen.

 

-----

 

"...In other news, another body was found by city authorities, this one only hours old. Identified as twenty-seven year old Barbara Strysen, the victim was found dead at the scene. Once again, the distinctive paired holes were found on her neck, making her the twenty-ninth woman to be killed since the serial killer began his rampage. Authorities urge citizens to walk in groups if they must be out at night, and to be careful and report any suspicious activity they see. Unfortunately, the police still do not have any leads in this case..."

 

The hunter cursed the TV, angry that his latest victim had been found so soon. And to label him a serial killer! The prey had no idea what they were facing- no idea at all. They didn’t realize that they were the cattle, and he, the hunter. Still, no matter how the so-called authorities bleated, there would always be prey out and about, confident that he would not find them, or that they could take care of themselves- cattle thinking that they could beat the wolf.

 

The man smiled cruelly- normally he would force his passions to wait, and allow several days to go by, to allow the cattle to become unwary and careless, as they did after a day or two. But tonight, just to show the cattle who was in charge, he’d take another from the herd, and maybe leave her where she could be easily found...

 

-----

 

”Do you understand?” the voice in the middle said. The woman nodded, staring into the cloaking shadows, hoping to strip them away to see who exactly was speaking to her. Like always, the deep gloom defeated her, leaving her with only three robed silhouettes- neither of the three either large enough or small enough to say if they were male or female, though the voice of the speaker in the middle was male.

 

“Do you accept your mission?” The voice pressed, and she nodded. “I do.” she said firmly.

 

“Then go.” The speaker said before they faded into the shadows, leaving her alone in the room. Turning, she left as well, to go collect the supplies she would need.

 

----

 

The sun had sunk once more into its bed and darkness reigned once more. Tonight, so soon after the last murder, few were out, and those who were out had taken the authorities’ advice to heart and traveled in groups of anywhere from three to more then a dozen. Several of the groups were clearly well-armed, and the ‘vampire’ laughed at the thought that they might see them, much less be able to harm him. He was a vampire! He was the predator, and they, the prey! They might seek to duck and evade, but they could not hope to resist.

 

But he was not interested in facing one of these groups, for he knew that to drink any blood from the group would mean wasting a great deal of precious blood from the rest of the group, for no one could know what he looked like.

 

Silently, he slid away into the shadows, and haunted the night, looking for the proper prey.

 

-----

 

The moon rode high overhead when he found her. She was walking alone, slowly. Perhaps she was lost in thought and had lost her way. Whatever the reason, he knew that she was his prey tonight. Silently, he slipped into the shadows and began to follow her.

 

As the minutes passed, he noticed her aimless wanderings, and felt a pang of disappointment- like the one before, she would be an easy kill. His disappointment grew, and he almost turned around and left as she wandered right into an alley, but he had already selected her, and he would not go back on his promise to himself.

 

“Crap!” her voice said from the alley, and he knew that she must have finally been broken from her reverie, and realized that she had made a mistaken turning. As he filled the entrance to the alley, so like the last one, he grinned wickedly at the thought of how bad a mistake it had been.

 

“What do you want?” she asked, and he took no notice of the tone of her voice, lacking fear. He knew that his prey sometimes tried to pretend that they were not afraid in the beginning, but they always begged for their lives in the end. He walked towards the woman, standing at the back of the alley.

 

“Go away.” she said, her voice still calm and unhurried. She raised her hands, but lightning-fast, he grabbed her wrists hard and pressed against her to keep her from trying to kick or run around him. He grinned at her, letting the light play over his fangs. “Your blood is mine.” he hissed, his head bending towards her neck.

 

As the points of his fangs touched the soft skin of her neck, he heard her still calm voice.

 

“No, your blood is mine.”

 

Confused, he hesitated for a second, and pain flared in his neck. He faltered, and she easily freed her hands from his grip. She gripped the back of his head in one hand and clutched his shirt with the other, her grip inhumanly strong. And all the while, she drank greedily from the ‘vampire’s neck.

 

Frantic, the false vampire grabbed her head and tried to pull it away from his neck, but he could not budge her an inch. His strength began to leave his body with his blood, and slowly he slumped against her, until only her strong grip held him up. He stared up at the moon in horror, the predator having found a predator of its own. The light slowly left his eyes.

 

The true vampire licked her lips and grimaced- the man’s blood was sour and tainted by his various habits, but it was blood none the less. Gripping his hair, she easily dragged him to the entrance of the alley where he would be easily found in the morning, and then retrieved a few items she needed.

 

-----

 

“...a man’s body was found a week ago, his age estimated to be in the mid twenties. Currently, police have no identification for him, and ask anyone who knows of a missing friend to please call the number provided below. Like twenty-nine women before him, the man had a pair of strange puncture marks on his neck and was drained of blood, but unlike the women, his mouth had been filled with garlic and his head severed from his body. In addition, a wooden stake had been driven through his heart. Police are uncertain as to what this means, but forensic tests have tentatively linked him to the sites of several of the murders. Police have admitted that two of his teeth had been surgically lengthened, and on a hopeful note, no more murders have been committed since this last one a week ago. Quite possibly, the man feel prey to some sort of vigilante justice, though who would take it out on him, and what drained him of his blood remains a mystery. This is Ann Colers, for Channel 9 News.”

[Impostor]

[this is my entry, I reserve the right to change it/add another one later.]

 

----

The Colonist

 

I

 

It was around 20 minutes before sunrise on Gamma-Rutherford as Alvaro was walking home after a long night. A fifth generation Gamman, Alvaro had never been above ground after sunrise in his whole life. His great-great-grandfather, the great Flibustiero Guarran - the founder of this colony - had supposedly spent over a month on the surface, exposed to the brutal daytime temperatures and glare - but even Alvaro, proud as he was of his heritage - had thought that to be more myth than actual fact.

 

He had just spent a couple of hours at Lucia's and had to get home quickly, before his wife began to seriously suspect anything (bless her heart). His destination was only two blocks away, so Alvaro slowed his step, to give his tired mind time to think of a decent excuse. He didn't think he should tell Ana-Maria that it was overtime at work - no haciendado, no matter how cruel - not even one of THEM - would keep a human at work so close to sunrise. Besides, Alvaro's (admittedly good-natured) refusal to do any more work than was necessary had become something of a running joke, and one even Ana-Maria and the kids were in on. That was another thing on Alvaro's mind. Midnight today, just before he headed out for lunch he had a rather unpleasant meeting with Sr. Agilla. Despite all the smiles and pleasantries, the gist of it was clear to Alvaro - he had to shape up, or Agilla would replace him. "Probably with one of THEM!" came an unpleasant thought. The Agillas were greatly indebted to the Guarrans for their survival - as was every human family on the Gamma-Rutherford settlement. To think Alvaro'd be thrown out on the street and replaced by AN ALIEN! - why Grandpapa Guarran must be spinning in his grave.

 

After all it was Grandpapa - Alebardo Guarran to most people - that led the human settlers against the invasion of Betans (from their home planet Beta-Rutherford, they called themselves "Goloxes") over fifty years ago. Betans claimed they had exclusive rights to Gamma-Rutherford, yet this was as ridiculous as if humans tried to stop settlement on one of Jupiter's moons. Alvaro himself still distrusted the Betans - their new peaceful facade was just that, he reasoned - they were just waiting for an opportunity. Understandably, then, Alvaro had voted against the Betan Right to Employment Resolution three years ago. Alas, it had narrowly passed, and Alvaro acquiesced - after all, we humans - unlike these Aliens - honour the great Gift of Democracy. But, this was too much! A BETAN, taking HIS job! What's next? A Betan mayor? President? It wasn't that he had anything against them per se, it was just difficult to believe in their sudden amicability after years and years of war. After all, one day in school we teach that Betans are invaders, and the next they're just our neighbours, peers, like us - "A Conscious Race" - was the common terminology.

 

Alvaro looked at his watch - eleven more minutes left - he had plenty of time. As the streets began to be more and more empty of humans, the few tall, long-trunked Betans began to stand out - that was another thing - the Betans didn't mind the light and the heat. And because of this they could work any time of the year, of the month, of the week. Not only that, they would often work for mere pennies - no wonder the human populace of the Settlement felt displaced! And even more alarming how eager young betans were to learn human ways. Fernan (Alvaro's youngest) already had 6 betans in his class - and there was even talk of hiring a Betan to teach at the school. Alvaro had to admit to himself that it would make some sense, for an Intelligent Life Studies course, at least. But where do you draw the line?

 

I suppose it could work if Betans kept to daylight and humans to nightlight, Alvaro thought. That's definitely something he would bring up at the next council meeting - after all, it's fair to both us and them. But this living together was more unnerving than anything. The sight of amorous young Betans locking trunks on the street corner made him cringe every time. And the smell and sight of their food and drink - petroleum-based - was unappetizing, to say nothing about the black patches a treat spilled on the sidewalk would leave. And their language! - the hollow, melancholy moans would send shivers up one's spine. No, Alvaro decided, as it was, he couldn't stand for this 'integration.' Maybe...

 

Alvaro was interrupted mid-thought by a shriek of "Help." The language was Spanish, yes, but the voice was definitely Betan - which was confirmed by a similar yell in the alien language. As much as he was not in favour of Betan infiltration, Alvaro was not one to resort to crime to voice his opinions, and he despised those who did. It was probably Marco Marquez or Hernan Herrero that was at fault, Alvaro quickly decided - both known thugs, and ugly-minded people - worse than the Betans. Alvaro wasn't afraid of them, but he could see how they would threaten the deceptively thin, frail Betans. Alvaro quickly moved toward the sound of the scream.

 

It was indeed Hernan Herrero who had pinned a relatively large Betan against a wall - no surprise there. Hernan was a violent man, and when Alvaro was a kid, Hernan - who was a year older - would frequently mock him and throw rocks at him, small things, no doubt, but also very small-hearted. Alvaro would relish the thought of stopping him now - of being the hero.

 

As Alvaro was standing but two buildings away, thinking of the best way to announce his arrival, he realised the sweltering heat was becoming unbearable, and the blinding, blue light on the horizon. He checked his watch - it was only two minutes to sunrise.

 

II

 

Alvaro Guarran was arrested by the police and held for questioning regarding the apparent murder of an unidentified betan the next evening on his way to work. Alvaro pointed to Herrero as the perpetrator, and Herrero was immediately arrested, and tried for murder.

 

However, here something must be said about the Criminal Code of the settlement. In those first few shaky years of colonisation, survival was as yet unassured, and complete co-operation was indispensible. As a result, Flibustiero's Code of Law decreed that even the smallest crimes carry the toughest sentences. In Alvaro's case, this means that his alleged Criminal Negligence was punishable by death, much as Hernan's killing was.

 

Admittedly Alvaro knew this well. And although he was understandably nervous he believed in his own innocence - and in his acquittal - because of the extenuating circumstance of the sunrise. In his own mind he was confident that if not for the heat and the glare, he would have saved that Betan.

 

III

 

Alvaro's trial was an event the likes of which a community as small as the Settlement experiences only rarely. Nearly everyone within the town walls came to see justice carried out on the descendant of a Legend. "How the mighty have fallen" was a common sentiment, as was "This trial is inexcusable."

 

By tradition it was held outdoors, during the space of one night, with the verdict to be decided upon and carried out before morning came. Such expediency meant that a trial by jury was infeasible - so the Settlement had a judge, Prudencio de San Sebastian - whom the name fit perfectly. He was known as a fair man, not rash with the lives of his own people, nor with those of Betans.

 

Alvaro's trial was an especially long and nerve-wracking one. Argument after argument was presented. The prosecution (those scumbags, mumbled Alvaro) sought to undermine his character, and called his mistress Lucia Renaldes to testify. Alvaro held no grudge against Lucia for telling the truth. Still, even if he was set free, Alvaro's life would be in shambles. He would no doubt be fired from work as well - he saw the frowning, hawk-like face of Arsenio Agilla in the crowd as he was being publically humiliated.

 

Finally, after what seemed like an endless day, it was twenty minutes to sunrise, and Judge San Sebastian signaled the end of the arguments. "I have made my decision," he announced in a booming, yet somehow calming voice. "Alvaro Guarran, you are hereby declared totally innocent and clear of all charges. Humans cannot be expected to function after sunrise. It is unfortunate that this death had to happen, but the fault does not lie with you."

 

Alvaro felt as if an enormous stone was lifted off his back. Secretly, he had feared the worst, and to live to see another night was all he could have asked for. His mind in another world, Alvaro stumbled towards home. He must have taken some awful hook, as sunrise was approaching and he was still far from home. As if brought-to by the blue glare, Alvaro began to race towards his underground abode at the end of the street. He ran as the seconds to sunrise ticked down 20... 15... 10... He no longer could see, his head felt as if it was about to split open, it was only by luck that he had reached the entrance to his house with 3 seconds left. Relieved Alvaro ran at the door. But it was locked.

 

---

 

Impostor

"Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd.

If anything was wrong we should certainly have heard" - W.H. Auden

Edited January 30, 2003 by Impostor

[Quincunx]

Dammit!

 

I was supposed to have left today, to muck about and ruin people's years and generally avenge the loss of my muse, but I stayed here too long and missed my flight, and why? Because I was bloody chatting on IRC where it all began and couldn't tear myself away.

[reverie]

...dang board won't show my structure the way I laid it out in word... but this is close enough i guess...

 

 

Casey.

 

 

And if Casey grew too bold

Would we care what the story told

 

So he struck out, so he was out

Isn’t that what we waited for anyway

 

Hey, Hey…

 

...hey...hey

 

So, Come on up and be our Hero

Here to shine, For all to see

 

Come on up and walk the narrow

Make it last our tragidy

 

There you are, our fearless leader

…be the first the for all to see

Hear the roar, now hear the rumble

…be the first against the wall…

 

Back pressed up…

You're Masquerading…

Be the first…

Unless you-

Fall-

 

 

 

 

revery

the dreamlost

"wonder"

the dream continues...

Edited February 6, 2003 by reverie

[Peredhil]

Poetic Justice.

 

The Cast:

Laertes: A collegic protective big brother.

Aristophanes: A would-be Investigative Reporter, and room-mate of Laertes.

Electra: Laertes 14-year-old sister, Junkie of MTV and BET music.

Magistrate: A corrupt Judge who plea bargains with prostitutes in private chambers.

Baliff: A guard.

 

The Sets: The stage may be divided into three parts, The Street stage left, the Cell stage right, and the Chambers center stage. Suggest use of multiple spot lights, one for each character at least. A lens shift and dimming of the other spots could highlight an Actor speaking in sotto voice to the audience (Indicated by parenthesised dialogue).

The Street: A street corner, dimly lit by streetlamp.

The Cell: A bare concrete cell, one wall barred with door.

The Chambers: Blackly curtained walls, large desk with foldered papers and a few handcuffs, prominant in downstage center is a crimson-covered wide couch. Door on right side, with small hallway attached.

 

Scene 1: Lights up on stage left, The Street. Laertes is pacing in anger. Aristophanes leans on the lightpole and watches his pantherish movements.

 

Laertes: The Magistrate? A scurvey knave! Attacks the weak, awards the brave. Aye I know the wicked one. Why askest thou?

Aristophanes: I'm no glib talker, your sister was mistaken for street walker. In our haste to do what is right, we sift the truth from lie.

Laertes: If my sister's virtue I would save - the Judge must die.

Aristophanes: Representative of order's might... I agree we must bring the fight. Beware tarring all with corruption's brush. You're in such a terrible rush. Attack and its YOU whom Justice's minions will crush. Your loss would make me cry.

Laertes: Swiftly hot now courses my ire. Sweet sister! Innocent, she's in lust's spire. He'd dip his baliwick to quench his fire - Avaunt! He will expire. Rushes from stage.

Aristophanes: to audience (Young blade thrust straight when wiser head, knows better to feint and parry.

I'd better be after to cool him down, his wrath will not tarry. I smell an opportunity here, a chance to make my fortune. Ill's wind that blow no good I hear, sounds notes in every bar tune.) Cut lights

 

Scene 2: The Cell. Lights come up on Electra checking a Swatch. She's dressed in full regalia of the singer Madonna - heavy makeup, pointy corsette, fishnet stockings, and CFMP stilleto heels. During her speech, one hand waves elegantly and dramatically presses to brow. The other cradles her crouch - she occasionally punctuations with pelvic thrusts.

 

Electra: (My plight you see, I'm innocent. I was only waiting for my ride. I'm chaste - most chaste - and with posthaste, these charges be denied. I'm just a gentle groupie of the most uber wicked singer, Madonna; I must find bail! Uber wicked nasty Fate my hopes has dashed, from concert to stinky jail!

All money for tickets and backstage passes, showtime commences soon. What must I plea to get me free?

Perhaps I can bargain a ticket for release? Are Rock-n-Rollers found in Police?) Cut lights

 

Scene 3: the Chambers. The Magistrate stands facing audience as lights rise. He wears heavy black robes with white t-shirt and polka-dot boxers under. His face should be lightly smeared with cream or lotion to give an oily reflection. Start action with a spray of cologne and self-admiration as if the audience were a mirror.

 

Magistrate: (Malevolent you find me? Now tar your brush and spare no pity! One dimensional not, I chose this life, using my power to reap the city. Only harlots do I use this way, yet some would say I'm wrong! Should I be damned for what I am? Justice with strong prong?)

turns to face door, dim his spotlight. Bring up lights on hallway outside door. Baliff stands there with Electra. Opens door, thrust her in. Dim spotlight on hallway, bring up Chamber lights. Dim light on Electra looking around. Magistrate eyes Electra then finishes speech to audience.

Magistrate: (A toothsome tart! I'll try her art here in my Chambers warm. On lovely flesh I'll make this quest: my hands to roam and swarm. ) Turns to Electra, bring up her spot to full. Come in my pretty; care for brandy? (this pop tart's even younger than legal bait! I'll have her once or twice I think, or prison is HER fate.)

Electra: Oh prithy Sir, o noble judge, how sweet the voice of reason! What must I do to convince you, I'm most desired of pleasin'?! If you'll purchase my ticket, The opening act is Pink. With haste we can make it together; tell me - what do you think? (An oily man, perhaps I can wheedle like my brother. listens intently. bring up faint music offstage. Is that a tune? Madonna sings soon!)

 

Laertes and Aristophanes arrive in hallway. Aristophanes carries a camera. He restrains Laertes through the following as they both listen.

 

Magistrate: (Pink the opening, yet tries to sell? A cheap tactic to try on me. She'll jack her price when dressed for vice?? Not if she longs to be free!) Come sit my dear, and cuddle near, I'm sure we can work this out. You've a serious charge, I've set the bail quite large., I might be inclined to show you mercy, if you can find a way to reemburse me...

Electra: Oh absolutely, I can hardly wait - I'm so glad that you agree. You'll not rue your pity, I'll show you a city and a wonderful show! If you like what you see, when you're dancing with me, in the pit below - I'll give you a backstage pass!

Magistrate: (Oh what a tart for one so young yet very bold? A backdoor pass, around the world - How can I not agree? My blood enflames, my one-eyed Monk wishes to worship at her shrine. we'll dance alright all through the night - and I get it all for free!) Oh my sweet, my night's complete, I'll take your backdoor pass. Frowns as Electra is straining to hear the music. Are you listening? takes Electra in his arms and they fall struggling on the couch. Her legs stick up waving widely on either side of his body. Those pouty lips glistening! There first, then your -

 

Laertes bursts in the door, followed by Aristophanes with camera flashing.

Lights outs.

 

Lights up, Aristophanes stands alone in Chamber.

 

Aristophanes: We came in time, to stop foul deed. Judge came not at all: spilled no seed. Young Electra and brother Laertes even concert made. The Magistrate's in prison - I hear he's the cell block's dolly. And humble me will famous be, reporting of his folly.

We hope you've enjoyed this morality play, a story of Poetic Justice. The Almost Dragonic production fees have risen to nearly bust us. So if you'll donate most generously you'll have all our gratitude. At least lend your applause and clap your hands, be gently Polite and not silenty rude.

 

Fade, curtain drops, rises with Aristophanes, Laertes and Electra, who take their bows. When applause begins to die, Baliff leads out the Magistrate. They bow, then entire cast bow together.

 

Curtain closes and house lights come up.

[The Portrait of Zool]

That ROCKS!!

 

And lemme say again - THAT ROCKS!!

 

(Heh - Family Oriented indeed... Methinks Pan may be your secret muse! )

[Gyrfalcon]

Gyrfalcon laughs and applauds Peredhil's skill at writing

 

An excellent play, though that sister is just a little strange. )

 

Go Peredhil!

[Nyyark]

To Each Their Own

 

 

Long ago there was a field enclosed by a stone wall. Age had long worn the old stones smooth, and led the only man made entrance to collapse effectively sealing the plot of land except at one point. After the fields abandonment a small stream had decided that another course would lead to its mother ocean more quickly, and changed course toward the old stone wall. The stream was able to seep through the long lying bonding between the rocks, and flowed into the field to form a pool.

 

It was on that day of collapse that two groups of creatures living in the field came to power. The creatures of one race were tiny, but worked together for their common good to survive. They bored tunnels into the warm earth to survive the winter, and through cooperation efficiently transported enough water to survive the hot sunny summer days. The other creatures were almost completely different. They had massive square bodies and long spiny legs. Their backs could open into wings, which would support them in long glides after jumping. They were individualistic and lived only for enjoyment. In the summer they ate the overgrown blades of grass when hungry, and drank whenever they had need. As winter approached however this entire race died, leaving only their eggs buried in the ground and on the undersides of leaves as a testament to their existence. When the year again turned these eggs hatched a new pleasure loving generation to exist again.

 

For a time, these two races lived in peace. However their innate differences eventually caused much bickering. The Small Ones were always advising the free-living Leapers on how to survive. The Leapers told the Small Ones to mind their own business, and that they wished only to live what life offered them. Watching the Leapers die year after year, the Small Ones began to believe them hopeless and stupid, thinking that the Leapers were naturally inferior and that the Small Ones would eventually out live their carefree counterparts as a race.

 

Our story begins on a summer day like any other with an argument starting like any other but ending in a way not one lived to believe. There was a group of Small Ones under the command of Drone Helia. They had just spent the past two hours constructing passage over a runoff from the Pond and watched a Leaper effortlessly glide over it. Not to be outdone the Small Ones called to the Leaper in order to ridicule it.

 

"Short-life!" cried Helia, "Why do you waste the day? Know you not that winter will fast approach and slay you for lack of shelter? Only a fool would leap its life away when it could be saving it!"

 

At this all of the Small Ones laughed. Hearing this, the Leaper flared its wings and back-glided to a stop in front of the Small Ones.

 

"Little One," said the Leaper, "You die when you when will; I will instead to live."

 

"Fool!" spat Helia, "Your whole race would perish in wake of catastrophe! We Small Ones would work together to devise a solution to keep us alive, but you and you kin would be forgotten by all but the dust you would join!"

 

"My small friend," replied the Leaper, "Though our way is different than yours, we would survive as well. We are one with the world and a way would show itself to us when we see fit. To each their own Small One. Farewell!"

 

With that the Leaper leapt away, the matter clearly over. Helia, however, saw nothing but a challenge. She turned to her troop with a plan:

 

"Did you hear that idiot?" asked Helia, "It thinks its abominable kind would live if threatened! I say we prove them wrong!"

 

"How might this be accomplished?" Inquired one of her troops.

 

"We will destroy the life-blood of this land." plotted Helia. "The Wall is weak and eaten with moss where the water enters, as a people, we will cause its collapse. Though we are small, as one, we can accomplish this feat. Then, as one, we will harvest and store the food we need, and burrow to the water beneath the world for drink. When the summer comes again we will see if the Leapers still think they can survive."

 

With this plan in mind the troop of Small Ones returned to the home to present it to The Mother. That night Helia was granted audience.

 

"Mother," said Helia, "A Leaper has challenged our people. We must show them that we command respect. Please grant me the work force complete my task."

 

Helia then outlined her plan.

 

"Your plan is bold and radical" Spoke the Mother. "It is fitting for the honor of us all. I grant you supreme command of all our workers to meet this challenge."

 

The Mothers decree given, Helia wasted no time bringing the workers to the source of water. As she had prophesized, the Wall was weak with moss by the water. Under Helia's command, the workers worked all night weakening the Wall further. As the first light of dawn hit the Wall, it crumbled.

 

"See that!" screamed Helia joyously, "We have done it. Now to harvest for the future!"

 

The ants spent this day and the next harvesting all the seeds and good leaves they could find. The Leapers watched them with spite and pity, knowing the Small Ones had brought about their own doom.

 

By the third day the grass was brown and dry, and the Pond was now a barren stretch of cracked earth. Most of the Leapers were gathered around the dried pond, feasting on the few, remaining greens. Helia and many other Small Ones came out to gloat at the Leapers fate. Before she could start, however, a Leaper screamed out.

 

"You fool! Do you know what you've unleashed?"

 

"What? Have you no intelligence at all?" asked Helia haughtily. "We have leashed the water, I suppose the only the thing we've unleashed is your stupidity."

 

These leads to a long list of insults and advice, but the Leapers were no longer listening. Some were shaking, and a few were humming. Then a hiss like the wind began. Helia and the rest of the Small Ones fell silent as they noticed the Leaper's blank stares. The hiss rose in intensity until the Leapers all let out a sudden scream. Then something horrible happened. The Leapers began to eat. They ate everything that was near them, grass, Leaper, and Small One. The Small Ones all moved to the middle of the dead pond, eyes wide with fear.

 

"They're going to eat themselves to death!" screamed Helia.

 

But she was wrong. As the Leapers ate too much, their carapace cracked and healed larger. Their wings expanded and grew strength. Worst of all, their spikes and jaws became massive and powerful.

 

After all of the living Leapers had completed their horrible mutation, they turned on the Small Ones. Helia was among the few who made it into the cracks in time. She hid, terrified.

 

When the hissing died down, she peered out of the cracks to witness a wasteland. Everything had been eaten. She looked to the sky and saw the monstrous figures of the mutated Leapers flying off into the distance. Helia then knew that because of her foolish pride her race would die, as the field had. The Leapers would move on, and worst of all, survive.

[Archaneus]

Here's my entry. Aren't you glad you gave us another day Wyv? Lol. I think everyone else has a better chance of winning but I'm trying anyway. Don't you just admire my fighting spirit? Lol. Stupid forum, it won't post right, I can't tab or anything (whine, bitch, moan). Anyway, with no further ado. On to the story...

 

 

“It’s almost complete Williams. Very shortly I will be the most powerful man in the world,” General Imarius stated plainly, as if it were a certain fate.

“Sir, I can’t wait for that day. It will be an honor to serve under you, sir,” Colonel Williams replied, sounding as if he believed it.

“I have made sacrifices to get where I am, mostly I’ve made others sacrifice for me, hahaha,” he laughed hoarsely and Williams laughed along.

“It has all been for the better of humanity, sir.”

“I know that, Williams, which is why I have done it. Humanity needs a wake up call and I am the one that controls the bell that will wake them!” Imarius stated with a tinge of passion, or possibly insanity, in his voice.

 

-----

 

A few hours later the General walked down the hall alone. He was headed towards an area Williams did not have clearance to enter, in fact no one did except him and a select few scientists. Everything was going as planned and soon it would all come together.

Entering a sterile room and putting on a contamination suit he entered through the large doors into the lab. It was a medium size lab filled with glass tubes and machines everywhere you looked, like something out of a movie. He approached the right side of the lab cautiously, the specimen was kept here. The fate of all humanity, the Reaper virus. Engineered to target all humans, quickly breaking down their DNA till they ceased to function and died. From the midst of this chaos would rise a hero, one with the cure, giving freely to save all humanity.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the genius of his plan. He would take over the word in a week, especially since he would destroy the world’s leaders first, making it appear a terrorist act and crumbling all government till he reestablished order.

“Sir, we are ready for phase one of the project,” His head scientist reported.

“Good job, Roberts, we will begin immediately, start the infection of the countries leaders around the world. Make it close together. We want it to seem like a unified assault,” Imarius ordered.

“Underway, sir,” he replied.

 

-----

 

The General strained to open his eyes. He looked around and caught the back of a white -clad person disappearing around the corner. He was soon followed by Wallace and Wallace dismissed the nurse.

Wallace stepped through the plastic containment wall surrounding the General and said, “Hello, sir,” seemingly mockingly.

“Wallace what’s happening?” he inquired.

“You have been infected. The plan worked perfectly, all the nations have crumbled and they are pleading for help.” he responded. A look of shock suddenly struck Imarius’s face. How could he have known? He had never told him anything of the plan. “I see you are surprised, don’t be. Hell, I wasn’t. Roberts was really working for me. Don’t worry, I took over your place in the plan. All the nations gather to me for support. Goodbye, Sir.” Imarius tried to open his mouth in protest but couldn’t as he slowly drifted off and died.