Mr_Kuku wanders his beloved Streets and sees that there is no competitive writing going on.  He commits to changing this, and soon...

My friends, it is high time that a fair writing contest was launched, with good prizes.

Top prize is $6,000,000

2nd prize, well, I might give you a man to follow you around and help you out (CA)

3rd prize to be confirmed.

The contest is open to all.  Tell us your story right here, on the Streets.  And do it by 9pm, one week from today.

This will be fairly judged, and transparent.

I want these streets to be alive once more.  This is what I am offering.

GOOD LUCK!

The Cad listens the well turned out gentleman making a speech.  He noted that for the first time in quite some time there was someone who cared about speechcraft and deliver, the cad approved.

'My good man, while my writing days and speaking days are behind me, I am happy to add to your little pot of treasures to reward the Hoi palloy. I've lots of gifts to give for nothing more than to see a well written sentence, a beautifully nuanced phrase (and a bit of ankle)

I would be more than happy to sponsor this wonderful enterprise for the good of our world. 

Well done you sir!

Ding Dong

Thank you, Utter_Cad!  Perhaps you'd give the first, say, three entrants a little something?  Encourage the uptake? 

got gifts for days me old mucker

start with petty bonuses and raise it to durden mapping? I swear I have hundreds so I'll take your lead.

“Ahh, yes,” Johnny could barely contain his laughter, “Another one of those rigged contests from the Kuku line that will inevitably devolve into lying and murder. Couldn’t you have at least come up with something original in all that time locked away in federal prison? Do you not realize or not care that you’ve branded all of your contests as fair and transparent and yet people always end up dead? You’re a scam artist and little more. The last fair and transparent contest that we had around here, you hijacked, discredited and led to more deaths. At least try to change your stripes.”

Mr_Kuku sees the drunk fool who keeps speaking at him.

Son, this isn't for you.  Please go away.  You're barred.

The Cad grimaced at the violation of the English language

'@JonnyGavin, you're poor use of grammar offends me. 'Devolve' is not a word.  It is one of the vagaries of the English language that such a word is only acceptable in the past tense'

for further schooling, get in touch

Ding fucking Dong

Nick sees Mr Kuku trying to do something for the community, but Mr Gavin seems to have been following him all day.

"Sir I understand you may have a personal underlying issue with Mr Kukus line, and you expressed all of your concerns at his other street posting. To follow it onto this one with nothing but more negative statements is neither productive nor adding anything to the community."

Nick then turns to Kuku.

"It's good to see young blood in these streets promoting activity, and even offering to put on a competition for the community. To help the prize pool I'll even offer a Quad CA to the winner of this writing competition. Kuku you just let me know you to send it to, thank you for bringing life to these streets." 

The_Beast steps up to the square again and has a reminder for utter_cad.

"Devolve : (of duties or responsibility) pass to (a body or person at a lower level)."

"This is proper english. Try and learn it."

Snacks sees the notice for a writing contest and contemplates if this is something he'd like to consider.

"I may have a story that is worth telling. A cash prize of 6 million surely seems worth it!!"

Snacks fumbles around in his pocket and pulls out a turkey leg. He lazily takes a bite then walks away with the notice in hand.

JohnnyGavin.....for someone who accuses Mr_Kuku of harassment, you sure do involve yourself in a lot of his business.  By the way, I'm not at all implying that you're a celebrity stalker or anything.

“I’m sorry, is anything I’ve said about your little friend here untrue? The public knows who and what he is, he knows what he is, but far more importantly, you know who he is. If that’s the horse you want to hitch your carriage too, best of luck. He’s shown time and time again he will get his own friends and family killed for his ego.

You guys should probably stop calling out my name, or at least get it right Utter_Cad, if you’d like me to stop informing the general public of the self described “leader of the streets”.”

A very philanthropic offer to get our orators back onto these streets. I commend your efforts Mr_Kuku!

It's a shame there's been such a concerted effort to derail this event. Nevertheless, I shall do my best to submit my own effort. Might I ask if there are any parameters for an eligible entry? Length or subject, perhaps?

A tremendous effort Mr_KuKu. I will gladly donate a plethora of perks to the cause, yourself then to dish out to the various and hopefully many entries.

• Lifetime Achievement perk
• 365 day body guard upkeep
• Double CA
• Super VIP forum

I’m looking forward to this extravaganza and may even submit something myself.

I have developed a recent a penchant for riding horses without saddles, I may share one of my adventures.

I have to say that it makes me happy to have the shrill squeal of a disturbed malcontent drowned out by some of the most esteemed and prominent members of this thing of ours.

So it's a story you want? I'll tell you about a time when I was more forgiving. More naive to the ills of this world. I was young then. Too soft on criminals. I let them live.

Raising his gaze slowly, his mask dancing in ominous fashion, Rorschach stood over his dazed victim - now bound and bloodied, pleading his innocence.

"Stop. Just stop." Rorschach muttered

Despite being only 5'6", Rorschach stood an imposing figure over his now silent victim kneeling in the corner of the room as he continued to speak:

The girl... she's one of mine. Working a corner I protect.

Walking around the dark, almost barren kitchen, Rorschach began opening cupboards and drawers in a casual, yet menacing fashion - almost like he was looking for something... something he wasn't even sure that he'd find.

Listen man, I don't know what happened. She just...

Drawing a gloved finger over the knives and cleavers hanging from chains on the wall, Rorschach grumbled quietly, only half listening to the whiney stream of noise coming from the corner as he continued to search the dark, grubby kitchen.

I swear man - she wanted to do it!

Instantly and angrily spinning around to face the fat, nameless John, Rorschach picked up a wooden rolling pin from the counter top, strode back over to the corner and replied gruffly

"She wanted to get beaten and left for dead? In this shithole?" he demanded in a loud husky voice - visibly angry, despite having his entire head covered with his trademark mask and fedora.

YES! Well, no - I didn't mean to go so far, but we agreed a price, and...

Reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a small handful of crumpled bloodied banknotes, Rorschach stuffed them into the mans mouth, instantly silencing him.

There - now I've paid you what you paid her. Exactly what you paid her...

Screaming a muffled defence through the wad of notes and shaking his head, clearly petrified. Tears rolled down the obese, sweaty man's cheek and a steaming yellow pool collected on the floor beneath him as a family of rats scarpered back from whence they came.

I've had to Watch Men like you abuse women like my mother all my life. Cowards. The rejects from the underbelly of society. Rabid dogs with no morals... do you know what happens to rabid dogs?

Slouching down further on the floor and bowing his head down in a dejected manner, the unnamed John wept silently. Enough to convey contrition. Repentance. Clearly wrestling with his conscience, Rorschach lowered the rolling pin to his side. It was barely enough to convince him, but it was enough. Barely enough.

"If I have to visit you again..." Rorschach grunted menacingly, as the rolling pin clattered on the tiled floor.

Walking out, leaving the John a crumpled heap on the grimey floor - still bound, Rorschach walked off into the shadows, and silently disappeared into the night.

A fine piece, Rorschach, and and of a calibre that we are expecting to attract to this contest (notwithstanding the plankton infestation that we are dealing with).

The "unnamed John" in his wretchedness reminds me of some of the horrendous losers that hang around these street cornders.