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Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago
Wow. The arena was closed for the holidays, but two contestants were so bloodthirsty they jumped the fences. Crowds began to gather upon seeing the lights fire up and hearing the familiar music: "Who is it this time?" some wanted to know. Others had eaten 16 servings of mashed potatoes and simply lapsed into unconsciousness and/or death. But there would be no answers when the contestants emerged; both were dressed in full body turkey suits. The Prompt: Illusions

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago
Story A: Having a relaxing barbecue social was exactly what Neil needed after the longest week in the office. No company-mandated outing would do. He was relieved to have the present company of his close friends and loved ones, and a space free from people like Devonne and Wei. There was too much riffraff in the office now. Neil took in a deep sigh while sitting in his comfortable, green lawn chair on his front lawn, looking over the sights and sounds of grilling, adults in conversation and children playing. All things were in harmony. "I guess it is a nice sight," Peter, his closest friend for eighteen years mused. He was already sitting to Neil's left in another lawn chair. He had that movie-star profile, and his well-sculpted frame was draped in a verdant, floral Hawaiian shirt. "Nice to look at what you got. Nice to have a Sunday cookout with a cold brew in your hands." "Yep, that's right," added good ol' Dan, another close friend, sitting at Neil's left. He was a much larger fellow with a sizable, black beard to match his burly figure. Even in the summertime, he still wore his trademark flannel without sweating at all. Peter and Dan lifted their bottles of Heineken originals, and Neil did the same to toast. "Very nice," Neil said in complete agreement. "No orders from the boss, and absolutely no one from work in sight!" "Ehem," coughed a familiar voice near to the three friends. "Hope that present company doesn't ruin that image." "Uh, hey there, um-" Neil sputtered, searching his mind for the name of a coworker who had interface with almost every day. He was generally very good about scouring his brain quickly and took only half a second to discover that the man's name was not there. Or did that indicate something else? "-Aaron," the man self-identified. This was awkward. Aaron Benowitz showed up, and at a barbecue of all places. Could this guy even participate given his...religious restrictions? "Yeah!" Neil exclaimed. "Glad you came, man. How's Leah and the kids?" Neil was willing to do anything to lift the uncomfortable atmosphere. Aaron wasn't as bad as the others, but he was still surprised to see another person from his workplace here at the party. "All doing well, by Adonai's favor," Aaron answered. "This is a wonderful gathering you have here. I have to thank your wife, Jill, for inviting us here." That would explain it. She always did show kindness to everyone, even to her detriment. "I don't know what I'd do without her," Neil said, playing along. Might as well make the most of this situation. "Yep, that's right," chimed Dan. "You hungry?" Neil asked. "Got something to eat?" "Oh, we brought our own to this potluck," Aaron explained. "We figured we'd bring a generous variety. We weren't exactly sure what everyone would like." They probably brought matzo balls or whatever that fancy flat bread of theirs is called. "Thank you," Neil said, trying to stay polite. Hopefully the neighbors wouldn't find the Benowitz family too strange, not that that wasn't inevitable anyway. "My pleasure," Aaron responded. "We hope you don't mind and that it isn't a problem-" "-No, not at all," Neil interjected. "-We just want to set the right kind of impression," the Ashkenazi continued. "We're new to this community. We know in these times that people are starting to get used to us being around a lot more, ever since the war ended." Right. The guilt trip. Whatever. "We really are glad to have you, man," Peter butted in, a soft smile coming across his pudgy face. "It's not easy putting yourself out there, but you'll find a bunch of warm folk here eager to meet you, myself included. Hey, let me get you a beer." Peter and Aaron walked off to get another cold one from the cooler. Neil had to conceal his disbelief. Peter, of all people, was the last person he expected to give some warmth to outsiders. Maybe he was just going along with act? The thought made him a little ashamed. Here his friend was doing him a favor getting Benowitz away from him, and he was casting judgment. Man! Neil thought to himself. I really needed this a lot more than I thought! "We don't really ever talk about work do we, huh?" Neil asked, looking over his shoulder at Dan. "I mean, it's not as I don't like the people I work with - I like some of them - it's just that I don't want to associate with people who just really have no chance of fitting in. Ya know what I mean, right?" "Yep, that's right," agreed Dan. "Feels good that we can talk about this stuff," sighed Neil. "I just hope-" "Hey, what's happening here my man?" Neil recognized that voice. Devonne. Why was he here? How was he here? "Man, ya gots the good stuff here boss, I'll tell ya what! I mean, there ain't the best stuff, but that's why we is here now! Give me some skin!" He was wearing a purple suit and a hat that matched with a large white feather as decoration. "Why the hell are you here?" Neil growled. "C'mon baby, don't be like that!" Devonne protested. "Me and Shanice just had to come once we heard about this shindig. Jill didn't seem to mind." "Yep, that's right," Dan added. "Fine!" Neil yelled, almost rising out his seat. "But put some proper clothes on first!" Devonne looked wounded, taken aback by the hostility. "But, where are we supposed to-" "I don't care!" Neil cut off. "Just go!" And so he went, entering Neil's house. Looking back after the door closed, the cookout was going on as if the situation never occurred at all. In the wake of a cathartic moment, Neil felt remorse again. Devonne was annoying, but that didn't mean that Neil had to bring himself down to his level. He was the host and that meant he had to act like he truly was better than all that. It was unbecoming to behave so angrily. Still, he didn't like being blindsided, twice now. Neil lifted himself out of the lawn chair to look for his wife. It didn't take long to find Jill talking with her lady friends by the gazebo. Neil approached, interrupting their conversation without much thought, and said, "Honey, can we talk real quick?" "Uh, sure babe," she answered, pulling herself away from the group. "What's up?" "Did you invite Benowitz and Devonne to this party?" Neil asked pointedly. "I-I invited everyone from your workplace," Jill answered honestly. "I thought-" "-You thought what?" Neil growled. "Did you think I wanted those types over at my cookout?" "Our cookout!" she corrected. "And I'm sorry. I didn't think this would be much of an issue." "Why didn't you just ask me before you told people?" Neil yelled, no longer caring if people could listen in. "I didn't want that trash near my house!" "Is this about the fact that they're not like us?" Jill asked, incredulous at her husband's anger. Neil thought things over slowly. "No! Maybe. Yeah!" "Yep, that's right," agreed Dan, still sitting in his own lawn chair directly behind Jill. "I guess I am bothered by it!" Neil continued. "The food they eat, the way they talk, their clothes, all of it! It's weird, and I should be bothered by it!" "Their clothes, Neil?" Jill repeated questioningly. "That freaking pimp outfit Devonne was wearing!" Neil wailed. "What are you talking about?" Jill asked. "What are you talking about, Neil?" Peter also asked, now nearby with Aaron in tow. "That ridiculous purple suit!" the host exclaimed. Of course he would have to explain everything to those who weren't there to see it. "He's wearing a white polo with khakis," Peter corrected, his rotund, overweight profile somehow bulging beyond comparison. "He just put that on inside when everyone wasn't looking!" Neil shouted, steam coming out of his ears. "He was wearing that from the start," Peter explained. "We all saw from the moment he and Shanice drove in." "Yep, that's right," Dan chimed. They were lying. They were all lying. This was some sick joke they were all playing on him. Neil took a look at the crowd of friends and family, looking on in shock at the scene. The only thing that could complete this disaster would be- "Nihao, everyone!" Neil spun around to see Wei Tu behind him, with his stupid hat and wide bucktooth grin. "Herro, New Yolk!" Whatever rage that hadn't been excised through yelling, came balled up in a closed fist that made contact with Wei's face. Peter came over to make distance between the two, literally rolling over as quickly as he could. "What are you doing?" he shouted in disbelief at his friend's behavior. "It's all Jill's fault!" Neil bit. "Stupid broad!" "Who's Jill?" Aaron asked. "My wife!" Neil replied, facing his other unwelcome guest. "You don't have a wife," Peter said, now straightening himself up to his full height of eight feet of pure muscle. "You've never been married." "Yep, that's right," Dan agreed. "No, that's not right!" Neil denied, trying to search for the sight of the woman he had loved for almost ten years. But, she wasn't there. She never was. He couldn't even recall a single image of what she looked like. "That can't be right. Can it?" ***** "Well," Doctor Nielsen mused looking through the one-way glass window, "it seems the patient's symptoms are getting worse. There seem to be even more inner voices now." He and one other were responsible for monitoring the behavior of Neil Anderson, whom could only take comfort in a padded room after the drive-by shooting that almost took his life. His relationship with ex-girlfriend, now felon, had turned tragically sour. Given his past history of abuse though, he had it coming. The man now just wailed barely coherent streams of consciousness in a straight-jacket. "Yes," agreed Doctor Simmerson, the other main physician presiding over the case of Mr. Anderson. "He appears to develop new personalities with the consumption of different foods." "His trauma and the way he perceives others must be connected to that," Nielsen posited. "Perhaps we should discontinue these tests knowing the consequences?" "Not yet," Simmerson interjected, "We need more data. I want to see what happens when we mix the medication with curry and beef." Nielsen sighed audibly, exasperated at his colleague's abuse of their mutual patient. "I need a different job," he muttered under his breath.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago
Story B: I see a window. Through the window is a vast world— rolling hills covered in lush green grass unfurl underneath a sapphire sky. The sun— oh, how I've missed the sun —shines benevolently over the striking scene, illuminating the flora below with its radiant light. I reach out for the window, begging the warmth from the sun to seep through the glass and bring life back into my weary soul. I blink. It's gone. But it had been there, right? Only moments before? I stare at the blank wall before me, but nothing stares back. All that meets my gaze is flaking plaster. There had been a window. I'm sure of it. I run my hand along the wall, searching for any crack or crevice or hint that what I saw was real. My hope vanishes with every second, every inch of the wall felt. An illusion. A mirage. This place truly is breaking me; I'm going insane. I slump with my back to the wall, my knees coming up to my chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I allow myself to have hope? That's how this gets to my head. When I allow myself to feel, I open myself up to the overwhelming negatives of my situation as well. I must stay numb. I have to stay numb until someone finds me... God, I hope they're at least looking. I've been here, trapped in this bare, desolate room, for a long time. My best guess is around a year. I have no way to tell how much time has passed since I last had contact with the outside world. I can't see out of it at all; I have no idea where the sun is in the sky or if it's even there anymore. For all I know everyone's dead, though that's not likely. They're probably just now moving on, learning to accept their loss and continue with their lives. My parents have likely cried together almost every night since my disappearance. They've probably been told by a million well-meaning friends that it's time to bring an end to the search and let themselves grieve. They probably think I'm dead. "I'm not dead!" I scream, my voice heavy with desperation. "I'm not dead." That time the statement comes out more like I whimper. I sob as I repeat the phrase to myself over and over again, knowing they can't hear me but not knowing what else I can do. I've poked and peeled at every inch of this room. I've cried, screamed, shouted, punched the walls, tore at my own skin and hair. It's like the people who brought me here forgot about my existence. I'll always remember them. Their faces haunt my restless dreams. A young couple, lost in the bustling hubbub of the city. They asked me for directions to a theater. I offered to show them. The lady, a brunette with a striking jawline and neat white blouse said she forgot her phone in their vehicle and asked if we could retrieve it first. I approached the car with them, chatting about my city... when I got close enough, they shoved me in. I remember a rag being pressed against my face. By the time I got over the shock enough to even consider screaming, I lost consciousness. I woke up here. Gray concrete floor, white walls. I can almost see the window again. Is it an illusion, or is this room an illusion? Can something be an illusion if you can feel it? I had a window in my room back at home. My window opened up onto the roof, and I used to climb out and look at the stars. I’d never taken anyone else out there— if I showed someone and then we had a falling out, the place would be ruined. I wish I had shown someone, though. I don’t like the thought of no one sitting out on the roof, bathed in starlight. It’s too good of a spot to go to waste. Maybe my parents have already sold that house. I can picture them tearfully handing over the keys, saying the house simply has too many memories of me. Me playing Mortal Kombat in the living room, reading my smutty books curled up on my dad’s recliner. It was just more comfortable than my bed, you know? I hope he takes the recliner with him when he moves. I never thought I’d miss home. I always hated going back after volleyball games or sleepovers. But it’s… there’s something different about not even being able to go back if I wanted to. I want to. I miss it so, so much. I miss hearing my dad’s football on the TV late into every Friday night in the fall, and my mom waking me up by running on the treadmill at 6 a.m. on Saturdays. I miss home. “I wanna go home,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a sob. “Please, let me go back home.” I turn and rest my forehead against the wall. “They miss me too, right? They miss me too…” My head hurts. I need sleep... just a little nap... sleep. I shake my head. No, no sleep. Not when we’re so close. I drag my hand against the wall, pressing against it hard. I feel the rough, unfinished surface grate on my skin, but I continue. Pain means nothing compared to the mind-numbing monotony of this room. I won’t let it drag us into it. Us? No. I’m not crazy. It’s just me, me and my thoughts, me and the separate entity that is my brain… But if I’m not my brain, what am I? There’s too much time to think. I begin to laugh at my own ridiculous thoughts. Laughter feels good. Better than good, it’s freeing. I keep laughing; why shouldn’t I? Who’s going to judge me? There’s no one anymore… just me. I laugh until I can no longer breathe, until I’m folded over on the ground and gasping for air. It really is funny, isn’t it? A woman (girl, really. Would it be funnier if I was grown?) dragging her bleeding hand against a bare wall like it’ll save her. It’s fucking hilarious. _____________________________________________________________________ 12.00. Seven months into captivity. Subject once again descended into depression. Researchers began to worry that was as far as the subject would get without additional action. Subject spoke of wanting to go home. Then, researchers experienced a breakthrough. Subject curled up and began laughing. The next stage of insanity has been reached. The subject’s guardians will be contacted and informed that their child will be returned shortly. Let the next stage of research begin. ______________________________________________________________________ Dear Mr. and Mrs. Schilowsky, We at Newlife Studies are pleased to inform you that your provided specimen has passed all necessary testing and will be returned to you shortly. Please remember that we wish for you to behave as though she never left and discourage any and all attempts to remember the time she spent here. Give us constant updates to her condition and the funds will continue flowing into your accounts. We expect great things from this. Regards, Newlife Studies ______________________________________________________________________ I wake up in my room. How did I fall asleep? How did I… I wasn’t here before. Was I? Is there a chance that was all a dream? I look down at my hands. They’re a little red, but not bloody. There aren’t any scars. My brain still feels hazy, but otherwise there’s no proof of anything out of the ordinary. I stumble out of my room as though in a trance. My parents are in the kitchen eating breakfast. I stare at them like they’re alien entities. “Mom?” My voice sounds small and weak. I’m not sure anyone standing a foot away from me would’ve heard it. “Taylor! You’re awake.” My mom beams at me and gestures for me to take a seat. My body moves without any activity from my brain. “You usually come down so much earlier on Saturdays. Does my treadmill workout wake you up, dear? I’ve always wondered.” I shake my head, still staring. She purses her lips. “Dear, you look exhausted. Rough night?” I clear my throat. “I had… I had a terrible dream.” She tilts her head. “Oh, honey. But that’s just a dream. An illusion of sorts. It’s all better now; you’re awake.” I nod. “Awake.” My dad gets up and rinses out his cereal bowl. My eyes follow him as he moves. “Well, I’m off to work. Is there anything you need from the store?” He turns to my mom, who says no. He then turns to me. “Taylor?” I shake my head. “I— no. I don’t think so.” “Okay.” He kisses my mom and ruffles my hair. “Let me know if you think of anything.” I nod. He seems satisfied with my response and heads out the door. My eyes stay glued to the table as my mom finishes cleaning up after their breakfast and leaves the room. I can’t do this. That can’t have been a dream. I can’t be crazy. I can’t go back to how life was. Did they just not notice I’ve been gone? How did I get back here? I walk back up the stairs slowly, drowning in my thoughts. Without making any conscious decision to do so, I climb out the window and settle into my spot on our roof. I used to wish we actually lived in the city, but I grew to love living in the suburbs. I still go to school in LA, and my dad works there, but there’s no time to relax there. Not like there is here. Besides, you can’t see the stars. Could I really have dreamed that whole thing? No. It’s impossible. So then, my parents just didn’t notice. Or maybe they knew. I always suspected they didn’t really love me, that they wanted me gone. Maybe I should just go. I could run away. But where would I go? What would I do? I haven’t even finished high school, no one would hire me full time. Rent in Las Angeles is fucked, and the people are worse. I couldn’t stay in town. A terrible thought occurs to me: I could jump. What's worse is the idea makes sense. I peer over the edge of the roof. The fall would probably kill me. I mean, I’ve always had fragile bones. I could jump. If I landed on my head I would definitely die. Or maybe I would just get amnesia. That would also be a solution. If I stop remembering this, I don’t have to deal with it. There’s a part of me that thinks this is a dream. Me being back home, my parents being weirdly normal, just all of it. It feels surreal. I’ve finally snapped, and my brain is playing tricks on me. What do I have to lose? If this isn’t an illusion, everyone in my life stood by as I was held captive for God knows how long in a place that ate my mind. I don’t know what lies were told or how this even happened, but something tells me that would only make it worse. No more thinking. I’ve done enough of that recently. I close my eyes and send myself hurling over the edge of my roof. ______________________________________________________________________ Dear Mr. and Mrs. Schilowsky, Thank you once again for your cooperation throughout the duration of this project. We too are regretful that our study could not go on longer. It’s not altogether unheard of for a subject to turn to suicide upon reintroduction to their homes, though it is uncommon. However, we will not view this as a failure. Even the shortest of studies have information to be gleaned from them. Final compensation for your willing participation will be sent to your accounts within the week. Regards, Newlife Studies

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

20 days ago

Both stories don't gel that much with me. If I had to choose it will be B, simply because the prose was slightly better than A. 

They both mix the mundane with the fantastical, but in a way that's not satisfying to read. A washes away any lasting consequences and stakes with a very eye rolling "lolol the person is just a bit crazy and it's all in their head." It felt ameuteurish to me.

Story B did the evil secretive corpo thing, but had nothing substantive to say that would make the mind linger. I did like the memories the protag has about their suburban childhood which felt like the most genuine part of the story. If you left out the secret corpo and experimentation and focused on the ennui and aimlessness, but at the same time the nostalgia of the American suburban lifestyle, it would've been much more thought provoking.

Btw. Is story A from a Dutch person? I spotted a Heineken reference.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

20 days ago

Do you think Heineken beer only exists in the Netherlands, or do you just think it's not really popular elsewhere (or some other, secret third option)? Because I mean, it's sold (at a lesser quality I'm sure) at the grocery store in my little town in Kansas.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

20 days ago

It's also the way it's written and certain surnames like Nielsen. A smidge of Dutch smell is present.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

12 days ago

I confess to some partial Dutch heritage on my mother's side.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

12 days ago

Aren't you from like, Missouri?

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

12 days ago

No, I'm on the East Coast. Why did you think I was from Missouri?

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

11 days ago

I honestly don't know

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

11 days ago

No problem lol

I live in Virginia. I wonder if I really do project that sort of Midwest energy though.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago
Gobble gobble.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago

Both stories are interesting and well written. No glaring SPAG issues and no huge text blocks.  My vote would go for Story B. 

It is interesting that with the prompt both submissions were focused on insanity and madness.  I think there is an argument to be made that both stories actually focus on Delusion instead of Illusion, but both work well enough I choose to overlook that.  While Story A was interesting, the sudden weirdness at the end as the delusion collapsed on itself kind of broke me out of it.  Story B feels like a chilling prelude chapter to a dark and creepy book about NewLife studies and the organzation behind them.

 

 

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago
Stuffed with delicious upside down cake, I'm typing this from my cousin's room, where I am taking a brief respite from polite conversation to delve in the absolute madness that is the Thunderdome. A more striking contrast from the friendly conversation and relaxed atmosphere of Thanksgiving dinner to the absolute chaos and mayhem of the Thunderdome couldn't be found anywhere else. Although I wasn't keen on leaving the comforts of reality for the dangers of the writing world, I knew I must surrender to the altar of the Thunderdome and give my offerings.

Just like anthraxus said, I enjoyed both stories, but ultimately I have to give my vote to story B

I'll go over both stories.

Story A was delightfully funny, with bitingly effective humor. But it took a little too long to get there, and when you have 2000 words, time is money. I felt like Story A built up and then the payoff really came at the end, but I wasn't invested until Neil started getting angry at people and acting racist. Because then, the story was set into motion. I really loved that twist though, and it's a creative concept. I thought the last bit, about introducing curry and beef, was especially clever and funny. It was also kind of sad how the scientist was messing with the dude like that, but the absurdity of the situation undercut some of that pathos.

In contrast, Story B starts being interesting right from the get go. The author of B does a fantastic job making us feel the terror and anguish of being trapped in this room, this unknown place. The way the author occasionally interjects with the character's internal monologue("Stupid Stupid Stupid, Why did I allow myself to have hope?") added to the feeling of hopelessness and abandonment.

The juxtaposition of the main character's emotionally charged and deeply poignant point of view with the flat, almost emotionless businesslike manner of the emails from Newlife studies ultimately pushed this one over Story A. The way they talk so scientifically about kidnapping this girl and holding her hostage was chilling to me.

They really just expected her to move on with her life like nothing happened. And then when she kills herself, the last email by Newlife studies is the cherry on top. The email is so selfish and self centered only focusing on the needs of the corporation. The way the email dehumanized the people, referring to them as specimens showed that the author had a great grasp of where they wanted to go with this story. I also really hate those parents

I really enjoyed both stories but I'm going to give this to story B.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago

Why do you come across as more posh than the most posh British person. I'm beginning to read all your posts in a British accent. Imagining you sipping tea and swiveling your top hat. 

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

22 days ago
Wow, that's honestly really funny. Thank you for that, though, that's really nice. A dude from New Orleans is able to beat the Brits in poshness. Never would have imagined. You know, after seeing Daniel Craig absolutely rock a southern accent in Knives Out, I kind of want to see what it would be like to have a James Bond sporting a southern accent. I'm sure it would be something.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago

My vote is for story B.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

23 days ago

This one's tough. At first I found story A really boring and found myself glazing over at the monotonous talking but the longer it went on the better it slowly became. Becoming more absurd and funny. I disagree with the other contestants that this absurdity element was a neg negative for the story. 

The theme is relatively similar for both stories, both are almost equally dark (story B a little more so) but they couldn't have been conveyed more differently

 

I found story B a bit more consistent in entertainment value, but I found her inner monologue to her eventual suicide feeling a bit rushed or not fleshed out enough, I wish there was more build up to the suicide or more hints to imply that she knows her parents never cared about her. In the end we don't really get that, we know it from a third person view, but Taylor never really explains it to the reader except that her mom (disgustingly and abhorrently) goes running on a treadmill at 6AM lmao

 

Story B is a little bit more memorable due to the slightly darker undertones of no body giving a shit about her, but acting like they do, especially your own parents

I found story A more fun to read, but story B more memorable. Overall I vote for story A due to finding it more entertaining. If story B fleshed out the relationship dynamics a bit more, and heightened the build up to her suicide id have voted for story B 

 

Final vote: I'm immature so,  story A

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

22 days ago

I really enjoyed both stories. Story A was very entertaining and started off pretty strong and the twist was pulled off pretty good. I honestly have no clue what the prompt was but I wasn't expecting it at all, so going in blind I wasn't expecting anything. I kinda wanted to know more about what was going on by the end of it.

Story B was also really well put together, but I had more questions regarding the story itself - like how was the MC fed? Did she remember eating or drinking the entire year she was in captivity - she had to have eat something to stay alive that long. Also she hinted that she wasn't a grown adult yet, so how would her friends, neighbors, teachers, etc. react to her being back all of a sudden? Are they in on it too? Its possible I missed a piece that explained it. But I did like it anyways.

It was a tough choice but I think I'll go with Story A - just because I had less questions about the story/setting itself. 

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

17 days ago
B

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

16 days ago
If It's not too late, I'll vote B, though I was leaning more towards A until the very end. Great job by both.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

17 days ago
I thought what story B tried to do was more ambitious and interesting, but I'm going to have to vote for story A.

Story A was entertaining and just got more and more ridiculous after a normal seeming start. While story B tried to be serious and dark but it was too glaring an issue for me that there are a thousand ways to tell time has passed outside of a person asking their parents, and I don't really like the casualness of suicide, nobody would ever die in any other way if people were as quick about it as they are in stories here. But I agree with what somebody else said, one as the beginning of a longer story where they began to investigate and uncover things instead of just jumping off a roof because that's the word count might be interesting.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

17 days ago

4 for A, 9 for B ATM

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

17 days ago

In memory of Ford I will continue his tradition of voting without reading the entires.

B

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17 days ago
What happened to Ford

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17 days ago

He had to step away due to IRL issues.

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17 days ago
Man got milked one time too many

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17 days ago

After reading both stories, I'm gonna have to go with Story A. They were both decent, but I thought A was funnier.

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

16 days ago
Commended by Mizal on 12/5/2024 6:16:47 PM

I decided to use bullet points because I thought it'll be less wordy and take less time, but evidently that didn't happen. 

Story A

  • Establishes tone, setting and character well from the start
  • ‘Peter, his closest friend for eighteen years mused’ - grammatical error; either remove the comma or add one after ‘years’ 
  • Lots of description to easily envision the characters. Specific adjectives used well
  • Narrative voice matches the character’s personality, with slang terms like ‘riffraff’ and ‘good ol’
  • Soon, the build-up occurs with as there is ‘trouble in paradise’ - the arrival of someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. Subtle signs of the underlying building tension from the use of terms like ‘playing along’ and ‘trying to stay polite’
  • Lots of dialogue within this story, which is used well, as it is focused on the characters and the protagonist’s reactions to them rather than the plot/ setting
  • It’s a bit distracting how there are lots of replacement words for ‘said’, some with adjectives, which could be integrated more seamlessly if dialogue was interwoven with actions (also you’re allowed to use ‘said’)
  • Other than that, as some other comments have said, it’s a standard conversation and takes too long to get to the point, which is a bit of a problem when there are limited words
  • ‘Right. The guilt trip. Whatever.’ - Tbh, this feels a bit unwarranted, as he started off trying to remember the guy’s name, wondering if he could participate given his religion, then suddenly is annoyed by him
  • It’s slightly inconsistent as his first reaction to him doesn’t match the racist judgement that occurs later
  • But either way, he gets more racist as the story progresses, like when he mentions not wanting to associate with ‘people who just really have no chance of fitting in’
  • Then he just growls at another man; his anger seems unprovoked and sudden
  • Interesting how everyone sees something different from him, which is where the theme comes in. This adds to the suspense and eerie tone
  • The phrase ‘steam coming out of his ears’ feels a bit cartoonish and jarring as the tension rises in this part of the story
  • My guess is that he’s hallucinating or something, as he believes they’re all lying
  • Oh, so the wife is not real either. ‘Woman he had loved for almost ten years’ - based on their interactions, ‘love’ is not the word I’d use here
  • Looking back, I can appreciate some of the foreshadowing, like how he didn’t remember his imagined co-worker’s name and there was the phrase, ‘Or did that indicate something else?’
  • And it was sudden how once he said his first name, he instantly knew the second
  • But there’s still a lot of confusion left, like how much was real and how much wasn’t. Moreover, why didn’t his real friends react to his earlier conversations with his imaginary friends?
  • I’d recommend having a sign of each hallucination, e.g. in a movie I’ve heard about where a man hallucinates half his interactions with others, these interactions always occur when he’s alone and seem too good to be true, whereas the ‘real’ moments are those with two or more other people
  • Nevermind, later it’s revealed everything was a hallucination - though I’d still have appreciated more foreshadowing, like cracks in reality or his past memories blending into his present, otherwise the ending seems like it comes out of nowhere
  • He wasn’t even eating at the start so I am not persuaded by the ‘food triggers his hallucination’ explanation.


Story B

  • It starts off with purple prose and overly excessive description, but this actually works well to show the narrator’s longing for the outside world. The overdramatic use of adjectives juxtaposes the blankness of the room in the next paragraph
  • I like the use of first person pov combined with the protagonist’s internal thoughts
  • It’s melodramatic, but once again given the protagonist and where they are, it makes sense
  • The only issue with this is that just like the previous story, it takes too long to build up. There is a lot of repetition, and while this is a literary device, having too much just slows the pacing and bores the reader. There’s a whole paragraph where almost every sentence can be summarized by ‘I’ve been trapped here for a long time’. Also, there’s a limited word count for these entries so it’s important not to waste words
  • Normally, an emotionally charged breakdown scene can be impactful, but it only makes sense if the readers know the character enough to care and understand why they are breaking down
  • Protagonist goes through some memories which hints at how she got here and her life before this
  • These snippets of memories seem important, but without much context, it’s hard to tell how they relate to the larger mystery at hand
  • She starts to go delusional
  • There’s a sort of defiance in forcing herself to stay awake, even when it doesn’t help, but it makes sense since she’s grasping at straws - good depiction of determination in the face of insanity
  • Follows a similar plot twist as the previous one where the protag is the subject of an experiment
  • Different formatting and writing style used for the scientific note and letter was helpful
  • Where before, a lack of information was used to create suspense, this time, everything is revealed to the reader and the tension comes from anticipation of the protagonist’s reaction to being returned home where her parents would pretend it never happened
  • The parents are evil, being able to pretend that everything is normal so easily after subjecting their daughter to such an experiment 
  • Just like the previous story, a generic seeming conversation is used to create a false sense of normalcy with an underlying tone of something being wrong
  • The ‘I always suspected they didn’t really love me, that they wanted me gone’ part felt too sudden, as during her time in that room, she never had this idea even once
  • There wasn’t anything that prompted this to make it a ‘realization’; rather, it felt like a random possibility that entered her mind
  • If, let’s say, she remembered something bad about her home life and then forced herself not to think of it/ tried to rationalize it, or something happened in the conversation with her parents that gave them away, then it’ll feel less abrupt
  • But as it stands, this story—just like the previous one—didn’t quite foreshadow the plot twist enough to make it as satisfying as it could be (seemed slightly too random)
  • And as for the ending, it felt contrary to the protagonist
  • Characterization was inconsistent - earlier, she was doing everything she could to stay awake; to not succumb to sleep because she somehow equated it with death. And now she’s back, she just decides to die? After she was fighting so hard for life earlier? Maybe if it was framed a bit differently (e.g. she was only surviving for her parents and after their betrayal is revealed she has no reason to live), it might make more sense
  • The last letter seems to just echo what is already known. Perhaps a letter from the parents about how they feel may have more of an impact and reveal something new instead


Marking criteria (which tbh didn’t help me decide)

  • Theme: both apply it very similarly, though if I were being nitpicky, hallucinations are not illusions
  • Writing style: A has a dialogue-focused and simple style, whereas B is more descriptive and focuses on internal monologue; both match the scope of their story well
  • Grammar and proofreading: Honestly I didn’t really look out for this, but B feels more polished as a whole
  • Main character: protagonists acted inconsistently in both; ironically, B’s protagonist was more fleshed out, which made the inconsistency at the end more jarring, whereas I suppose A’s odd behaviour can just be waved away by the medical condition at the end
  • Antagonist: in A, they appeared randomly in the last scene and were archetypal, but in B, I liked the way they’re consistently portrayed as a cold, calculating corporation
  • Plot: Neither of these had enough foreshadowing to make the twist feel more ‘satisfying’ than ‘random’, though A had a slightly better grasp of pacing


Voting: I’ll admit that I wasn’t very sure about which one to vote for, so I looked at what other people voted for. All things considered, B wins by a small margin. 

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16 days ago
You like to type words, we get it.

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16 days ago

words

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16 days ago
I think this is the first time I've seen a trademark Mystic post in a forum post that I am active in(long detailed review going into an insane amount of nuance and insight while looking extremely neat and well formatted) because it's been a while since you've been active and I'm pretty new to this site! This is really amazing, I'm living site lore right now.

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16 days ago

Have I been inactive for that long? And trust me, once I've posted a few more times, you'll get annoyed at having to scroll past a long textwall lol. 

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16 days ago
No, I don't think it has been too long, I've literally only been really active for about a month since the beginning of November. I joined the site late summer, impulsively signed up for a contest, then college started and things got busy and I completely forgot about the site. I showed up here and there, then started getting called out by everyone for not making progress in Sherbert's contest and whining about End posting a list of our names, barely managed to get my story in by the last second and from then on, I've been active regularly.

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16 days ago

Oh right, you're the one who had a large name in bolded text. Sometimes I log out of my account and lurk so I wouldn't be tempted to write a lot of words for no reason when I have assignments to complete. 

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16 days ago
Yeah that was me, I think I've learned my lesson from that experience and I'm more familiar with site culture now.

I totally understand what you mean, the rush of writing is so addictive, and it's hard being a final year college student and still writing, somehow you have to balance 2 large piles of plates while skating on thin ice, something's bound to drop. I'm so close to graduation, and I really wish I found this site my freshman year.

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16 days ago

Imagine not making your first account in middle school

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16 days ago
My parents were pretty strict with the internet growing up, and I was really busy in high school. I had more time during COVID because it was my senior year, so besides applying to colleges I didn't do much else other than read and play video games with my brother.

Then college happened, and now I'm pretty much done. Senior year of college I got the hang of the whole studying thing, so I'm able to do that, work, and other more important stuff with my time like make gay gaymes about prison and continue the gay-ification of the gayest series on this site.

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16 days ago

Oh yeah that whiny guy was you. Now that you have a profile picture you're a different person in my head

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16 days ago
The funniest part of that thread, in retrospect, was Abgeofriends calling me out saying "Because we know you ain't done shit yet." in response to me. Oh, the delicious irony. Looks like I got the last laugh in that encounter.

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16 days ago

Btw, saying this here do to a healthy fear of contest threads:

Gayest story gayme is quite the goal. Best of luck being gayer than some of the masterpieces out there... best of luck.

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16 days ago
Thanks Fresh! Also thank you for making Gay and depressed-er, I'm continuing the legacy with my contest entry, GAY AND DEPRESSED-EST!!! so I'm like the youngest little brother in this strange literary family setting out to prove himself, in a manner of speaking.

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16 days ago

I was gonna fix my typo T-T

Just don't fuck up and it'll be okay. Remember the standard to which you are held

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16 days ago
I will, I won't bring dishonor to the gaymily(I think I got to stop with the gay puns for now, it's getting out of control).

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16 days ago

RK just need to make sure to post a thread about how it is the most transformative gay and depressing story ever.  Sure to win.

 

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16 days ago

Don't forget he needs a huge text wall full of absurdly glorious claims

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21 days ago
I think I'll vote for A

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21 days ago

A brief rundown on my thoughts (excluding anything inolving commas):

Story A is definitely playing to people's sense of humor. It's written to the audience. I find the jokes in it to be quite funny, but the twist at the end didn't land for me. The beginning seems to slow and the end seems too rushed. I think some nice pacing would really help here. Otherwise, I like the character of Dan and that he only has one line. That's the first hint I caught that something was up. Honestly, I wasn't bored at the beginning (as I've seen some people mentioning here). It DOES seem a little slow, but I think it'a still pretty interesting.

Story B is much darker, though overall much more cohesive. The ending was a little rushed. I would've liked for it to go more into Taylor's life back from her confinement, and maybe answer some questions regarding how this secret was kept from the rest of the world, as well as a more slow descent into realizing her parents don't care about her. We seem to go from "They probably cried every night" to "They're probably in on this" rather fast, even considering that the girl isn't thinking clearly.

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21 days ago
wait so which one did you pick? A or B?

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21 days ago

Oh yeah, voting. If I had to vote, I'd honestly pick Story B

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21 days ago
cool, me too.

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21 days ago

:)

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21 days ago
I have read the stories.

Story A started out really strongly in the first few paragraphs in my opinion. The descriptions were given in a characterizing way that I found really charming. Sentence structure looked good, and all flags were green. For me, the issues started flowing in with the guests. The tone at the beginning was not an especially humorous one and did not lead me to believe that this was a comedy. Then, suddenly it was.

The other issue is that none of the jokes landed. Honestly, it's hard to miss with me when using racial humor, and somehow it missed every time. I'm going to attempt to diagnose why I found it so unfunny.

I think the first issue is how exaggerated each stereotype is. Racial humor (in my opinion) is funny within certain bounds. I'm also not talking about bounds of offensiveness. I mean, it's funny when the black guy can't shut up during a movie and is terrified as cops. The black guy is not as funny when he's a fast-talking voodoo witch doctor. Both are stereotypes, but one is less familiar. Thus, the Jew that American audiences will find funny more often is the New Yorker with the long nose who tries to get out of paying his restaurant bill rather than the old man praying at the Wailing Wall.

Additionally, the end with the food was pure nonsense. The entirety of the story for me was just a joke that didn't land. Pretty solid syntax-wise throughout

Story B I have less to say about. The premise was extremely intriguing, but the whole thing was just a little too vague to leave me satisfied at the end. I understand what happened on general, but the story still feels incomplete. The choice of first person present tense was also extremely odd, especially with the character committing suicide at the end.

Speaking of the suicide, I really don't think the emotional stakes were built up enough to earn it. Suicide is often a go-to ending in a lot of short fiction, so it really has to be done well to achieve any kind of emotional punch. Story B utterly fails at that in my opinion. It's the rest of the story that's doing the heavy lifting.





All in all, both stories were written with a competency that is heartwarming to see in the THUNDERDOME. Ultimately, Story A was an unfunny joke, so I will vote for:

STORY B

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20 days ago
If it's not too late to vote, then I vote Story B

Both stories are written quite well, but I think Story B better handled the transition from the subject's captivity to the reveal of the circumstances that lead to it. It felt slightly more grounded I suppose. If I had to nitpick, then I'd say that I didn't think there were many illusions involved in it even though that was supposed to be the prompt; unless you count the main character believing their very real suffering while held captive was a dream as an illusion.

Story A kind of lost me at the reveal. I don't really understand how surviving a drive-by shooting would drive you insane. It's written well enough, but it didn't really have an ending that tied it all together.

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17 days ago
Gave this some extra time because it was a holiday weekend but I'm going to call this later today, anybody who wants to comment still has a little time to jump in though.

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17 days ago

Lies and heresy. It's a different day and nothing is called.

:)

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16 days ago
This is just your acoustic thinking at work, zoomer. I assure you I am correct and today is still today, you would realize that if you didn't listen to so many podcasts.

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15 days ago
The turkey trot of VIOLENCE continued for some time, long enough that a mysterious warrior stood up from the crowd and was able to narrate their actions for literal hours. Neither combatant was exactly graceful in this getup, but they both put up an impressively strong fight. Mostly, it looked like this: Although it seemed Turkey B maintained supremacy from the beginning flurry of attacks, Turkey A managed a few surprise hits that at times left it possible they might turn things around. Ultimately though, B kicked A in... ...one of their sets of chin testicles? Whatever those are, it won the fight decisively for B. Some of the food vendors, still desperate to replenish their supply from the last time Ace was in the arena (or maybe just having heard phallic jokes were a new form of rebellion) ran up with comically oversized turkey basters and seemed ready to use them on the haplessly defeated Turkey A. "Holy shit guys, we're not real turkeys!" both contestants exclaimed, ripping off their masks to reveal that this battle was fought by Milton and Fresh! Thank you both for your contributions be it white meat or dark, reply here for the usual comm. The anonymous battle was a lot of fun even if the idea initially seemed fried, and readers stuffed the comments. We might consider dripping some of these in with the planned and named matches if we can find more such entrants willing to go cold turkey and take center sage with little thyme for dressing. But next week will be the long awaited battle between Petros and Bezro, and it will be much harder to do food jokes about either of them that aren't incredibly racist!

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15 days ago
Commended by Mizal on 12/6/2024 10:45:54 AM

I win! I win!

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15 days ago
Oh, right, and Story B was yours!

Although that might have been a given once names were revealed, who wrote about the adult man's coworkers versus the teenage girl with asshole parents.
.

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15 days ago

Congrats Fresh!

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15 days ago
Commended by Mizal on 12/6/2024 12:06:18 PM

My hat's off to you, Fresh! Your short story was definitely worth the votes. For a moment, when I saw you vote for Story B, I thought that it might not have been you who submitted that lol

It was an honor to fight in another Thunderdome, and I will return...

Thanksgiving Thunderdome!

15 days ago

I just figured me not voting was suspicious. I knew my vote wouldn't count

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15 days ago

Congrats to both of you. They were both really good stories and most votes seem to be nit-picky between the two - which means it was great match up.

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15 days ago

Fresh was cheated out of a fair fight last time, so I wanted to give her a real Thunderdome experience. Using AI to write a story for you is insulting.

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15 days ago

Appreciated