AWRlympics: The War-Cup!

[Jenny (Reffy)]

Welcome to "The War-Cup!"

If you wish to partake in this event please sign up on the discussion thread. This is only for those doing this event. Judging will be done anonymously but comments will be made on your entry (posted by me because they do not own an account)

Entry deadline for this round is December 12th (judging done December 13th)

This will be a series of knock-out rounds until there is only one person left. You ONLY GET 10 MINUTES to write something creative. It is up to you how you use those 10 minutes. Write something long and do not edit, or short and edit. You can think of the idea before you start writing, but as soon as you start writing the clock starts (please time yourself)

* You are not allowed to edit your post once it has been submitted, for any reason!
* Cheating and using more than 10 minutes to write is not cool and will be pretty obvious. You are only cheating yourself, and you will severely piss me off.
* It can be a poem.
* There are no word limits. (Although if your over 600 I will seriously start questioning your 10 minutes)

Judges will look at and award points in the following:

Creativity of topic: ?/10
Amount of words: ?/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: ?/5

The focus is not grammar, spelling and punctuation, although you can get points for it. The focus is what you do with the topic. You will not be laughed at here for making silly mistakes. The judges aren't interested if you spelt something wrong, or missed a comma. They want to see pure creativity of your boggling-minds!

The Topic for round 1 is: Penguins!

GO! You only have 2 days in which to find time to sit down for 10 minutes and just write!

[ASGetty ((Zovo))]

Penguins: A Haiku

Chicks dig the swagger
White shirt, black coat, all dressed up
And no place to go.

[o ding]

"SQWUAK," one penguin said.

"SQWUARK?" said another, turning its head towards the vaguely familiar noise.

"SQWUAK," replied the first penguin. The other turned away again and waddled off into the vast crowd of black and white.

"SQWUAK!" shouted the first penguin again, pushing through the mass of feathers and flesh. "SQWUAK!"

"SQWUAKS!" "SQWIAK!" "SQWUOK!"

"SQWUAK!" The penguin was struggling to make himself heard, the collection being far too loud for any single voice to break through.

"SQWUAK!"

The penguin's head turned around furiously. He hadn't sqwuaked - there was another.

"SQWUAK!" he replied.
"SQWUAK!"

He waddled in the direction of the noise, beak opening and closing in excitement and feathers rustling. Could it be...?

"SQWUAK!" the other now said, standing before him in an epiphany of beauty.

"Sqwuak," he meeped.

A FEW MONTHS LATER.

"Sqwuak..." he sighed, huddling with his old pal Freebie.

There was no answer.

A FEW MONTHS LATER, AGAIN.

"SQWUAK!"
"SQWUAK!"

The penguin sqwuaked a slightly different sqwuak in joy, rushing off towards the sound again. There she was.

"SQWUAK!" he sqwuaked.
"SQWUAK!" she sqwuaked.
"SQWUAK!" another he squawked.

He gasped a sqwuaked, staring at him.
"...Sqwuak..."

MANY YEARS LATER.

"Sqwuak," he sqwuaked, sqwuaking again in sorrow after he did.
"Sq...sqwuak," he replied, lying on his side and staring off into the sea with a blank eye.

"Sqwuak."

He shook his head, turning his back.

"Sqwuak! SQWUAK!"

He slowly turned back around to his father, nodding solemnly.

"Sqwuak..."

It was final. He waddled forward, pushing his father into the sea as he did.

"Sqwuak," they both said. He'd join her now, that he knew.

MANY YEARS LATER, AGAIN.

"SQWUAK!"

[James]

Penguins are a peculiar type of bird. What with their white and black colour (racism isn’t a problem in penguin society, unless you have happy feet) and their endearing waddle they are loved across the world by humanity. Put into cartoons and sold as stuffed toys. They are the ultimate cuddly toys.

There’s one problem.

Penguins are evil. Pure nat-dat-nasty evil. Science says that they have evolved from some sort of amphibious fish but science is wrong. Penguins are minions of the anti-Christ. Once you delve deeper into history, the evil resonating from the bird is clearly visible.

Firstly what kind of bird is “flightless”? Tell me that? It’s all a cunning trick otherwise it wouldn’t be called a ‘bird’. Also if you look at the other well-known flightless bird, the kiwi, which also has a history of evil including threatening to go extinct, then the squeaky clean disguise of the penguin begins to unravel.

In fact penguin is a stolen name! The original penguin, or Great Auk, were a black and white bird that lived across the world in places more visible to humans. However they went extinct in the nineteenth century and the penguins we know today, took the name. The legend goes that hunting killed off the Great Auk. But did it? Did it really? I don’t see the hunter stealing the Auk’s name as soon as the last one hit the ground. No, the penguins did.

And who would suspect them? Who would suspect a bird that can’t fly or apparently even has trouble walking in a straight line? No one. And so all it had to do was swim around the world’s oceans, casually picking off the last of the real penguins until they could steal the name and we let them. We let them kill off the Great Auks, the true penguin, because they looked cute.

However, if the penguin has shown it’s true colours by killing off an entire species just for a name then what other nefarious acts are they capable of? According to advertisement, they seem to like crisps (or potato chips) and in fact commandeer planes over the South Poles just to steal them. Maybe their addiction will lead them to violent measures and we will soon find ourselves extinct and a flightless bird called ‘human’ living across the land eating packets of crisps.

And so I have warned you against the evil of the penguin. The waddle, the apparent cuteness, it is all a deceptive facades. Lock your doors and shut your windows, the penguins are coming for you, your name and your crisps.

((I don't if you get the advert in America, but it's animated penguins signaling down a plane and then taking crates of crisps.))

[tamwyn]

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Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome. Penguins are awesome.

My girlfriend killed penguins in WoW alot. Everytime we sat on an Iceburg, there she was, casting Consecration.

Poor penguins. They just flapped and fell over. It was sad and funny at the same time.

I tried to ressurect them with a soulstone...but Blizzard wouldn't let me.

Also, an Undead punched a penguin on the way in.

I also have two penguin pets. And they are cute.

[WJChesek ((Evern))]

The penguin grinned to himself, pulling the bolt back on his rifle, sending a new round into the chamber. No humans, polar bears, or seals would be hunting his people today, not while he was standing watch.

With a quick exhalation, the penguin peered down the sights, lining it up with the shape coming through the snowstorm. It seemed to be human, but he had to be sure.

Sure enough, a human came charging out of the fog, a spear raised towards the penguin lines, the penguin fired, reset the bolt, and fired again. He repeated this process until he had to reload, as did his black and white comrades of the arctic with their sub-machine guns. The man fell to the earth, lifeless, and bleeding from numerous new orifices.

A few soft squawks later, and the human was dragged back to the penguin trenches, set up to provide more cover for the flightless birds. Though they wouldn’t be flightless for long.

Far behind the penguin trench there was a laboratory, dug deep between two frozen glaciers. There, a goggled penguin was welding several sheets of metal together, in the shape of a drawing stolen by penguin special operatives venturing towards a human base. Within hours he was done, his insane invention completed. He strapped himself in, and pressed a button, launching through the air out past the glacier with a roar, taking to the skies.

Suddenly, a giant hand grasped the invention, sending it hurtling down towards the ground, a tan fuzzy thing. The owner of the hand laughed, a high pitched laugh that belonged to a child. The penguin’s at the front lines scattered, fleeing from the giant baby, only to be crushed, or put into its mouth where teeth had yet to grow.

“NO!” Came a slightly lower voice, and smaller humans wielding spears, clubs, and rocks were knocked over, once again plastic and lifeless. “Lil, stop!” The louder voice shouted, lifting up the baby and pulling precious penguin soldiers from its mouth.

A woman entered the room then, bending down to remove the baby from the child’s arms. She cooed at the baby, gently removing the plastic penguins from its mouth.

“Play nice with your sister, Will.” She said, setting the baby girl down next to her older brother, his game ruined. The boy merely glared at her, until she started trying to hug him. Then he broke into a smile, how could he be mean to his sister?

[Kaez]

Written just now, from 12:50 to 1:00.

“Penguins,” David Attenborough spoke through the television set. “Are one of the most remarkable creatures in this habitat.” He went on to describe their insulation with the deep admiration that only a very passionate man could.

Robert found it dreadfully boring. Penguins, this. Cold, that. Ice and snow. Feathers and waddling. Who cared about penguins? Who actually sat down and said, ‘today, I’m going to spend a few hours talking about some stupid bird who lives in the middle of a giant slab of ice?’

Still, there was nothing else on the television. Maybe a sports broadcast or two, which Robert cared for even less. Cricket was nap-worthy, football nearly as much so. Or it might be the wonderful television that was made by local politics: “Mister speaker, if I may talk to you today about the quality of the birdshit in our neighborhood, I think you’ll see it my way…” or some other equally pointless discussion.

Sometimes there was children’s programming, which his parents often put on for him. At the moment, they were preoccupied. So he put on the nature network.

A group of penguins were all hurdled around each other, wobbling and wiggling, making little steps inward and outward. Winds were howling, snow was blowing past them, and they quietly and contently huddled together.

He heard his father’s voice bellowing angrily through the house. Robert was the offspring of one Michael J. White, a dominant male of his own mind and an especially crude person. He never gave much time for Robert, and frankly, Robert was okay with that. He didn’t like his father, his father didn’t like him, and it would be best if they just ignored each other. If this were the animal kingdom, he expected his father would have probably eaten him as a child.

His mother, on the other hand, was so terrified of his father that she spoke to Robert very little any more, either. That, too, was okay with him.

Some of the penguins had baby penguins with them, and Sir David commented how grand of a miracle it was that penguins, who fought against all the cold and the wind and the foodlessness, could continue a steady and populous reproduction cycle.

The mothers nudged at the babies, making sure they were in health, Robert presumed. The fathers gave them a quick glance. And that was it. The babies sat, tucked in the warmth of their mother’s stomachs, content to be warm and alive. Their parents, as they had for the rest of the program, did a lot of pointless staring and waddling.

His father yelled something and his mother sobbed. Robert turned up the television set to full volume.

Penguins were stupid.

[Sensar]

icy love

Not a barrier before love
stand any icy winds
for huddling together through the storm
are loved ones, twins
in harmony for their purpose
to always be together.
And through the billowing sleet-

[Jenny (Reffy)]

Did we ... did we just get ... rick-rolled on the War-Cup? Sensar! You really out-did yourself! Awesome ;D

Deadline is tomorrow night! Best hurry if you want to join in!

[Jenny (Reffy)]

Zovo:
Judges said it was clever! The amount of words score is higher because you used so few words but made them awesome.

Creativity of topic: 9/10
Amount of words: 3/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 5/5


Schrodinger:
We liked the premise of the story but we found it slightly hard to follow. We loved that each Penguin had a slightly different sqwauk.

Creativity of topic: 9/10
Amount of words: 5/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 5/5


Agro:
Judges LOL'd. The visual was awesome. The idea is hilarious and great. Never would have thought of a Penguin as a murderous, name stealing bird. A few minor mistakes but nothing huge. Awesome vocabulary range.

Creativity of topic: 9/10
Amount of words: 5/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 4/5


Tamwyn:
We feel you did not really put much effort in to this. It had some funny points, but we feel it lack in true substance.

Creativity of topic: 3/10
Amount of words: 3/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 4/5


Evern:
Judges LOL'd. The ending was awesome. The part about flying-penguins gained the most Lulz especially when they were thwarted by baby, thusly never flying. Nearly deducted a point for the muddled presentation of the weapons.

Creativity of topic: 10/10
Amount of words: 5/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 5/5


Kaez:
We liked the play on survival vs humanity. Although the story focused a tad too much on Robert's family. It was very well written and the emotions were very vivid.

Creativity of topic: 8/10
Amount of words: 5/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 5/5


Sensar:
Judges LOL'd. Clever use of a rick-roll (which is very rare.) The words you used were very strong, so instead of getting a 1 for only using 25% original words, you got a 3 because it was so strong.

Creativity of topic: 9/10
Amount of words: 3/5
Grammar, spelling and punctuation: 5/5



Final Scores:
1st - Evern: 20/20
2nd - Schrodinger: 19/20
2nd - Agro: 19/20
3rd - Kaez: 18/20
4th - Zovo: 17/20
4th - Sensar: 17/20
5th - Tamwyn: 10/20


Sorry Tamwyn. You're out this round but you ROCK for participating!

New topic coming soon, and new deadline! Well done folks who go to the next round: Evern, Schrodinger, Agro, Kaez, Zovo and Sensar!

[Jenny (Reffy)]

TOPIC for Round 2 is: Snowflakes!
(keeping it Wintery )

Deadline is 15th December (judging to be done 16th) Good luck!
Remember - you are only allowed 10 minutes in which to write!

[WJChesek ((Evern))]

(( I... I won... Cool. Story to follow sometime eventually... ))

[Sensar]

((Oh. I keep writing? Okay.))

[James]

1:10 - 1:20pm

Within the wisps of clouds tiny specs of water began to freeze together, wiggling into a jagged shape, as it became a precious snowflake. It hung, suspended in the cloud, for a second before gravity took its toll and it tumbled into the empty sky. It was the first snowflake to break free, others following in its path, as it began to graciously float toward the hard ground below it.

Dazzling lights from the city below illuminated the flake’s path as it fell, twisting and turning in the winter wind. Only its icy strength was holding it together, the force of its fall threatening to tear the flake into billions of even smaller pieces. Bigger and heavier snowflakes hurtled pass the smaller ones, their fall erratic and clumsy compared to the beautiful twisting fall of the others.

Beneath the falling flakes was the city, the view of the meandering pure green river and the wet verdant brown parks were inching closer to the blinded snowflakes. Their destinations were hidden from them, the stinging speed of the journey leaving only a blur for the flakes to see. It had been only moments but the ground was close, the larger flakes already nestled in their new temporary homes.

“One,” the boy said in the silence, the first snowflake falling on his outstretched tongue.

“Three,” the girl replied, her tongue sticking out in a dance of showing and mockery.

The pair was standing in the quiet empty garden, wet ground squelching beneath their feet as the snowflakes began to melt instantly.

[ASGetty ((Zovo))]

"You're not going out like that are you?"

"No," Jeannie snatched a small plastic container from her little brother, "Gimmie that, twerp." She slathered a dark coat of black lipstick on her petulant pout. "I'm going out like this." She said smugly.

Her mother replaced the container from her whimpering baby's hands with a green plastic key. "Are you sure? It's awfully cold outside?"

"I'll be fine, I put my long socks on."

Her mother glanced down at the red and black striped stockings climbing her duaghter's legs from the mouth of her hundred dollar boots. "C'mon, Jeannie, you'll catch a flu out there. Go put on something warmer."

"Don't you mean, 'Something lamer?'"

Her mother sighed an pointed with authority back up the staircase from whence he daughter had come.

"Fine." Jeannie surrendered, "I'll put on a coat." She headed up stairs.

Her mother simply shook her head watching her daughter climb the staircase to her room, "Your butt's gonna get cold in that little skirt, maybe some shorts? At least?"

Jeannie reappeared at the top of the stairs, "Is this alright? Can I go now?"

"Oh for Christ's sakes, Jeannie," Her mother lost it, dropping all pretense of health concerns as she staired at her daughter waiting immpatiently for approval. A long knit overcoat hung limply off her shoulders down to her knees, open in the front revealing the tiny skirt, a sheer mesh top over a minisule tank-top, sliced at the midriff, "You're fifteen years old, and you look like a god damned prostitute!"

"I can wear what I want, Mom. Julie can wear whatever she wants." She spouted back.

"Well I'm not Julie's mother, and no duaghter of mine going through this door looking like that!" The doorbell rang and Jeannies mother grabbed a chair from the kitchen promptly placing it in front of the door for dramitc effect.

"What do you want? God, mom? Maybe a nice pant suit?" Jeannie's anger flared, "Maybe some or you office clothes, would that be alright, something with shoulderpads maybe?"

Her mother glared. "You are not leaving this house until. . . No, nevermind, you're grounded. Go to your room, I'll let your little friends here know you won't be joining them."

"But--"

"Go!"

"You... I," Jaennie roared with teenage rage and stomped back to her bedroom; her booted feet coming to the ground as she wished them to break through to the first floor. Oh, how she'd love to break something in this house she thought as she slammed the door behind her and threw herself on the bed.

From here she could see the snow falling lightly outside her bedroom window. Sure it would be cold, who cares? She was only going to be outside until she got there and Branden would be there to keep her warm anyway.

She hated her mom; hated her like she hated the teachers, the other kids at school, the old people at the mall who all tgreated her like some sort of freak, just because she was different; because she had a unique style of her own.

Jeannie smashed her fist into her pillow and picked up her cellular phone, sending a text message to Branden. She openned her bedroom window and climbed out onto the eave. She slid a bit opn dusted shingles but her boots had good traction.

She could see Branden and the rest of her friends making their way silently to the ground below her, a blur of mussed hair, fishnets, and black clothing trailed only by a line of boot-prints. They looked up expectantly from shadowed eyes.

She called out quietly, "I'm gonna jump down, catch me." and released her grip on the gutter falling helplessly into the arms of those who understand her.