Saddle Up, Competitive Writing Community!

We've got a competition for you.  A FAIR competition.  I'm the sole judge, and there will be 10 prizes, each of either $2m, or else a substantial perk randomly selected from a box that I have.

What do you have to do?

Simply write about a person, living or dead, who is or was part of this community.  No less than 50 words, and let's try and keep it below 120.  We wants lots of entries.

YOU HAVE TO BE IN IT TO WIN IT!

Winners will be announced on the 8th of May.  If you'd like to contribute towards the prize fund, please get in touch with me directly.

HAPPY WRITING!

Genevieve liked money, quite a bit, actually. So when the inevitable groans and complaints started flowing through the coffee houses regarding another MrKuku street writing competition Genevieve knew this was perfect for her. Earn some money, scorn from the community, and allow Genevieve to hear herself speak at length? Absolute perfection.

Heading to the streets she nodded along as the requirements were announced, making note that the story was meant to be shorter than what she would love to share, she accepted that even with minimal effort Genevieve was sure to take the top prize.

Fearing nothing, because the pen was mightier than the pistol, the woman headed home to prepare her glorious short-form story that was sure to be absolutely amazing and impress the masses of the community.

Wellerman - could you get the Competition Commission involved?

"Now let's say that Hypothetical Jub is hypothetically thinking of hypothetically entering the competitive writing competition. How does Hypothetical Jub know that the prize will not be hypothetically awarded to a hypothetical non-entrant?"

"How will Hypothetical Jub know that he will not be hypothetically shot, seeing how competitive writing competitions are hypothesised to be bloody ordeals? In the apocryphal and often discredited second book of SIoT (SIoCWC or Systematic Immolation of Competitive Writing Competitions) it clearly states: 'A competitive writing competition without at least 3 deaths is considered a dull affair'."

"Hypothetical Jub is not hypothetically entering unless he can be assured nobody will hypothetically get murdered in cold ink."

"Also I want the minimum word count to be lowered to 45 words. Perhaps even lower. Brevity is the soul of wit. cough."

"Hypothetically speaking of course."

Bottle hears about a writing competition where a huge amount of money will be awarded to the winners and thinks about entering it. "Since it doesn't say you cannot write about yourself, I will go ahead and write about myself." Bottle takes a piece of paper and starts writing...

"Once upon a time, there was a glass bottle named Bottle, a seemingly ordinary object that found itself caught up in a life of crime. Despite being broken a few times, Bottle remained functional thanks to the trusty glue that helped put him back together. However, his experiences in the seedy world of organized crime left him questioning his purpose in life, often leading to existential crises and a longing to be something more.

Nevertheless, Bottle was a loyal and reliable member of the mafia, quickly earning a reputation as one of the organization's most dependable assets. But being a bottle in the mafia came with its own set of dangers, as Bottle often found himself used as a weapon during bar fights or hurled across rooms in fits of rage. Each time he emerged from these situations unscathed, though a little more chipped and jaded than before.

Despite the respect he earned within the mafia, Bottle's desire to be more than just a bottle continued to nag at him. He longed to be a vase, to be filled with expensive wine, and to be admired by all who beheld him. However, his aspirations were met with ridicule and contempt from the other vases in the room, who saw him as nothing more than a "glorified bottle."

It was only when the boss accidentally knocked him off the table and shattered him into a million pieces that Bottle discovered his true strength. As he pieced himself back together, the room erupted into applause, and Bottle realized that his resilience was what made him truly indispensable to the mafia.

From that day on, Bottle embraced his role as the unbreakable member of the organization, even as he continued to struggle with his place in the world. Though he may have longed to be a vase at times, he knew deep down that he was meant to be a bottle - a unique and essential part of the mafia's operations."

Roya looks around at the people writing and waits for what it feels like hours, then she decides to tap MrKuku on the shoulder and ask him quietly:

"Where is the bloodbath you said that happens when such competitions start? This is boring. Also i'm hungry, i left a date to get here. There was beef fucking wellington." She sighs and waits.

I have just returned from a meeting with the Competition Commission and they have agreed to oversee and sanction this event. You are all free to compete with confidence that it will be fair and safe event for all participants.

Unfortunately, due to outside pressures safety is only guaranteed while writing and submitting your entry and does not cover the general scope of everyday life. I am happy to present to you the CCSOA. 

Competition Commission Seal of Approval 

Best of luck to the participants and thank you to MrKuku for hosting. 

"Who is in this competition comission, who decides who wins and who in God's name are you Wellerman? I never even see you on the streets. Are you just here to kiss ass? If that's so, i apologize in advance for being the bringer of such bad news. The ass kisser position is already occupied by Duchess, you'll have to find another role, my friend."

"Also, MrKuku is not known for being unbiased and this is a clear as water requirement for being a judge in a competition. We need to know if the so called judges are gonna be him and his friends. But of course, you could always tell me to fuck off and that this is your competition and you do as you want." Roya laughs "But that would means you're not serious and also means any moron could do a writing competition and offer even better prizes than yours, just for fun. So please, provide us the judges, fairness and etc details, thanks."

Roya I'll excuse the insult since you seem to be so worked up over this, but I can assure you that I'm out here quite often. If you really haven't noticed I would recommend you get your eyes checked. 

Anyway, it's not my job to educate you on the Competition Commission. It's all a matter of public record, right here in the streets actually. Feel free to browse it at your own leisure. You can even borrow my glasses if you want. 

I'm not sure how much good those will do, Wellerman. I made the mistake of pointing out that a focus group she was huffing about was also a matter of public record and for that alone she has done nothing but insult me since. It's very unbecoming behavior, and perplexing still that someone who acts as if they are some old guard of the streets has zero knowledge of the Competition Commission. 

Roya is the de facto Leader of the Streets, so tone to down, Duchess.

Personally, I don't know how a LOTS can L the S without Focus Groups, but I don't make the rules, except for this competition .

Do you like drugs?

Do you like money?

Do you like having a quad of corrupt coppers working for you?

Then EXCITING NEWS!

My boss, the estimable FutureStealer, has made a big donation to the prize fund!

So get entering!

"Oh, come on, such drama! I dont mean to offend anyone, i'm just trying to have fun! Can't we all have fun together?" Roya pouts.

"I think i shall participate in this competition, then, i do like money, drugs and corrupt agents."

Wellerman, could you check the Competition Commission to ensure Roya hasn't been banned for any questionable conduct?

"MrKuku, im completely shocked at your suggestion that i conducted myself questionable and i'm even more shocked that you and your "commision" would deny me the chance to participate in the competition." Roya laughs and continues "Are you funding this on your own? Because if not, i can't see how its up to you or your little friends to ban me or anyone else." Roya shrugs.

"But this is already boring me, so i shall not waste my writing with this competition anymore. Have fun, its been a success til now. So many entries." Roya laughs and walks away.

I've just returned from another meeting with the Competition Commission. Lucky for us they foresaw something like this happening from the previous interaction. They formed a Focus Group of men and women between the ages of 35 and 45 to see if they are mentally capable to participating in high octane competitions such as this one. The results are showing that there is a 90% pass rate for adults in this age bracket. 

The CC has used this data to conclude that Roya's actions have NOT met the criteria for banning from competition. They've also added a short disclaimer giving the Event Host (EH) the right to ban any Entitled Asshole (EA) from participation if they so choose. It seems that this EA Clause supersedes any previous agreements.  

Well, it seems that is the end of the report MrKuku. I certainly don't have the mind for all this technical mumbo-jumbo, but I assume you understand what any of this stuff means? 

Anyway, it looks like we have a competition on our hands now! I'll certainly be working on my own entry soon. 

"Seeing how this competition officially has the Competition Commission's blessing AND seal of approval (though in truth I doubt whether Wellerman is truly in contact with them or merely pretending to be in order to gain clout) I now feel safe to enter this. We all know that it's the Competition Commission's mission-statement to ensure all competitions are FAIR, STOCKED WITH BIG PRIZES, and BLOODSHED FREE."

"Here is my submission, titled 'Jerome':"

There once was a mobster named Jerome.
Jerome was an inspiration to us all.
He didn't take shit from anybody, nobody could tell him what to do.
A man who ascended mortality and became a concept instead.
Now I look at people like Shoes and say: What a Jerome.

Great entry, JubTheNub.  Can you believe Roya snubbed our professor emeritus deceased?

fs overheard MrKuku asking for stories of past person.  He loved this idea as his family had many people that had built them up through the years.  He stepped forward.

MrKuku I'd love to speak a few word about a dear friend of mine.

I want to tell you all about the first person to every authorize my family to have a crew.  The juiciest man around, OrangeJuice-.  OrangeJuice- was the freshest squeeze every morning, and a little tart at night.  His unbridled passion, a touch of crazy, and one of the best damn shooters my family has ever seen made him an awesome leader.  To this day, many of my family’s lifetime friends were forged with OJ as their leader.  I’m sure that there are plenty who have a disdain for him and his bloodline (God’s included), but to me, he was a great friend, an amazing leader, and a fun time.

fs moved back to the side to hear of other past legends and friends.