Silhouette was sitting in her usual spot, nestled in the shadows with only her profile visible to the casual onlooker.  Kizzy, however, could see the deep shock and worry gleaming in the woman's eyes from her spot in the neighboring armchair.

"God damn.  That's some mess, hon.  Fucking...wow."  Kizzy sighed as she thoughtfully blew a cloud of smoke into the air above the younger woman's head.  A small smile etched itself on Silhouette's face.

"Yeah, that's kind of how this started, I think.  Fucking.  I don't remember the fucking, but I'm pretty sure that's how this happened.  Is there another way?"  The woman in the shadows tapped her fingernails impatiently on the table as she watched Kizzy put the cigarette back to her lips and inhale.  "You know, I wish you'd put that out.  The doctor said it probably wasn't a good idea for me to smoke for the next nine months, and you're just making my cravings worse."

Kizzy shrugged and stubbed the cigarette out into the porcelain ashtray on the table between them.

"Well, I guess this sort of thing happens to the best of us, dear.  At least you'll have a little one to carry on the ol' bloodline, huh?"

Silhouette turned her face further into the shadows, revealing only her outline to her old friend.  After a moment, her voice came out low with a soft, pleading note beneath it. 

"I just kind of wish I at least knew who the father was, you know?  I know when it happened--but I don't know anything that happened that night.  I just know I woke up with a hangover, an unsigned thank-you note, and a few bills stuffed in my bra."

Kizzy raised her eyebrows for a moment, but then shrugged with a sigh.

"Look, you know we'll take care of you here at the HQ--make sure you have everything you need.  Big baby shower and all--it's not like you're exactly poor working for us, anyway."

"It's not just that, Kiz.  It's...growing up without a dad, you know?  Always wondering."

Kizzy leaned back in her chair, tilting her head up in a pensive way.  Her eyes scanned the vaulted ceiling for a long, silent moment.  Suddenly, she jumped up with a broad grin.

"You know, I'm sure some word has gotten around by now of what happened that night.  We'll ask around and I bet we'll find the father in no time!  Even details of just what happened that night.  And if we offer a reward, the father may even reveal himself!"

Silhouette cocked her head slightly, then gave a short burst of laughter.

"That might work. "

Kizzy ran to the nearest window and threw it open.  She grabbed a cowbell sitting conveniently on a nearby table and began ringing it out the window.  Passerby on the street paused and looked around wildly for the source of the noise.  When they finally looked up to see a woman waving the bell out the window of a luxurious apartment, many gathered in a small crowd beneath.  Once satisfied with the number of people, Kizzy began to shout her announcement.

Attention, one and all!  If you can give us an account of the night Silhouette got knocked up (nothing explicit, please--this isn't a porno contest) and we find it to be accurate, satisfactory, and entertaining, you may win $1,000,000!  Please submit your entries right here.

Kizzy paused for a moment, then turned back to Silhouette.

"You got a name for her yet?"

"What?"

"The kid. You got a name for her?"

"Um...no. I just found out yester--"

Kizzy didn't wait for Silhouette to finish before turning back and shouting to the slowly dissipating crowd.

Also, if you can come up with a good name for Silhouette's next-of-kin, send it to her via the mail with a few words about why she should choose this name for her daughter.  Points awarded for creativity and general awesomeness.  We'll reward the best name with $250,000, and I'll make sure she uses the name!

As Kizzy stepped away from the window and strode back across the room, she looked over to Silhouette's obscured face, unable to make out her expression.

"See, two birds, one stone.  Now we just sit back and wait."

Plopping into her armchair once more, Kizzy lit another cigarette and blew a few satisfied smoke rings toward the ceiling.  Silhouette silently glowered at the glowing cigarette tip.

Kizzy suddenly jumps up and runs back to the window, shouting out slightly hoarsely.

In case anyone was wondering, this is the first contest introduced as a part of the Windy City Carnival!

Satisfied, she hurries back to her cigarette and the still-glowering Silhouette.

One more addendum, or edit, rather: Don't put the stories here, please.  Put them in your Back Alley and send them to me.

Thanks!

Anthony smirks from the street.

"Yeah, it'd probably be weird if, lemme count, 1, 2, 3...about a dozen people started talking about knocking someone up."

Smiles up at Kizzy

Don't worry, I got this one. I was there.

Hey, what can I say, Anthony - I'm just that hot.

Silhouette catches the end of Hershey's smirk.

And Hershey only wishes he was there.

Or does he?

She wanders off, pondering this.

cackles slyly

Perhaps it was me??

Silhouette looks a little queasy.

Well I dont know about making up a story but ill be the babies godfather if you'd like. I have been around a long time to teach him the ropes. Just message me if you think I could be.

I don't think candy makes a very good parent, Hershey. But I will admit, it had to have been me.

Scratch that, I meant 'I don't think candy makes a very good child'.

Poor Silhoutte. Your life will never be the same

Bursts into tears

"Perhaps it was me??"

Doubt it Hershey, we all know you're too cheap to stuff bills anywhere!

Monkey, he's dead, let him go peacefully...

yeah for real. No use speaking to someone who can't hear you.

Wasn't me.  I wasn't even in the country.  You can't prove anything.  

Marietta, having been one of the lucky passerby underneath the window, smirks to herself. Of course she knew what had happened to Silhouette. She had BEEN there, and had had the fortune of witnessing most of-

Well, that story was for later. Smiling to herself, satisfied, the blond woman rushed away to her hotel room as fast as she could and sat down at the tiny little make-shift desk in the corner. Pulling a sheet of paper closer to herself and grabbing a writing utensil, she was determined to quickly pen down the story of how Silhouette's dough had been kneaded and put into the oven to become a bun. Wow, that was a horrible joke. Crumpling up the first piece of paper she tried again, starting with something a little more serious and a little less... well, dumb.

Although this contest was supposed to wrap up today, I'm giving everyone until Wednesday, July 29th to get these stories in!

The Hammer wonders how Silhouette could possibly have been knocked up in a manner that involved nothing eithing explicit or pornographic.  Clearly stalks, cabbage patches or the second coming must have been at work...

Hmmm...second coming...

...she should be so lucky!

Trust me, Hammer, there are plenty of ways to imply an action without going into details about the action.