We are into a new world.  It seems like an age ago that Constipated murdered their trusty, and trusted, RHM John_Fareham for a joke that someone else told.  There is another angle to that story, irrelevant but adjacent to the joke told by a third party, but that is for another time.  My name is Jaws.  What's yours? 

For now, we must concentrate on dangerous, but important subject:

Competitive Writing Competitions.

We are, all of us, involved in organised crime.  Some of us are more vocal than others.  Some are universally respected, like @Ronald_Carrabio and his sterling newspaper, since stolen and hammered into the ground by the scumbag, Grin-22.  Other street speakers, like Ambichous, are more of an acquired taste: prone to arguing; egoistical; ego-centric; prone to a solipsistic worldview.

It seems like several lifetimes ago that werewolves and talking badgers metaphorically roamed the Streets and were an unlikely topic over which many murders were committed.  But it happened.

The lethality of Competitive Writing ebbs and flows, with various spikes.  Many, many years ago, the death toll swung widely: no fatalities to numerous fatalities.  It was a wild ride.  Then, the death toll settled into the low single figures per competition for a steady period.  This gave Competitive Writing an edge, but didn't scare people off.  Then there was a competition some time ago which led to a number of high profile deaths, and many other lower profile deaths.  

There has not been a significant competition since.

And that's what I'm here to talk to you about.

I am, as is widely known but not publicly stated, of the Fareham bloodline.  We have yet to have a successful writing competition to our name.  The reasons for this may be legion.  There may be justifiable criticism.  

But I come here, in humility, to ask for your assistance.

Because of generational prejudice, my life is in constant danger, not least from my supposed team-mates in Detroit, a gaggle of backstabbing turncoats who I loathe (yet also see as supportive and positive friends and teammates).  A notorious bloodline is sending each new-born son to grow into a dangerous mobster in front of my eyes, goading me into shooting him.  I have, so far, managed to dupe less intelligent team-mates into killing these wretches, but the danger remains.

One only has to listen to the word on the street to know that the price on my head grows and grows.

I can live with that danger.  I don't want plaudits, and I don't want praise.  I am grateful that I have successfully curtailed the wanton influence of the Flash_Fire and FMP bloodlines, but I want to give more to this community.

So I want to start up a new competitive writing community.

Writers, artists, poets, and issuers of creative death whispers and threats.

Can we come together under one banner?

What do we want for a Writing Competition?  What do we Need?

What can I give?  What can you give?  

Speak your brains here, and I will award each and every one of you with a reward.  

What do we want from the competitive writing scene? 

My instinctual response is safety measures. Less bloodshed. Less horror (the mental trauma, not the genre). 

Have you considered adding a referee? Someone who can patrol the contest, hand out fouls, even ejections if necessary? 

It's tough to say, Jaws. I would volunteer but I would be disappointed to rule myself ineligible to regale the world with more tales about my heroics in the great war or mafia basketball in general. HuckleBerryFinn has the requisite dour demeanor and claims to be the descendant of "one of the best CLs on these shores". I've never seen anyone agree but it's a strong statement and you need a bit of vain bravado from a good referee. 

"I'd have concerns about @HuckleBerryThin. I'm not one of assume bloodline grudges, but what if a budding writer was in a bar where someone else told a joke? Then we'd have a war arguably as deadly as a badly managed writing competition. We would have to take a "temperature check" of HBF's sense of humour. As much as I hate him, I think Grin-22 is the kind of clever violent deviant who could sniff a 'psychopathic murderer triggered by a joke' type.

I suppose, maybe, we should look to the Leader of the Streets for guidance, but that office has just withered on the vine. "

"One of the most important aspects of a writing competition is integrity. Integrity is defined as:

the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles.

Sir Jaws, I put it to you that you lack those qualities. I'm still awaiting payment of $35 million or ten Godfather credits for my victory in which I was described as The Last Winner. By launching another competition you besmirch my victory and my prestigious reputation."

Hobbs frowned and pulled out a familiar cliché.

"I'm not threatening you, but this makes me feel like I am going to shoot you very soon."