A new writing challenge

[theblondewritr]

:)That's right. Writers' beware.

This challenge is about 'raindrops'.

Deadline: August 1, 2006

NO PRIZES

good luck :bounce:

[dpaterso]

Post in this thread? Max 5 pages? Or wot? Feel free to lead by example. :)

-Derek
My Web Page - naked women, bestial sex, and whopping big lies. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Stop reading this and get some writing done instead.

[warrenP]

Any sort of guidelines for this? I think I might have time to squeeze one in here...

[Harbinger]

Yeah sounds good.

Haven't been on here in a while, but I'll give it a whirl if you're serious.

And who says there's no prize. Bragging rights! More precious than that crappy necklace thing in titanic.

[Kwvillen]

NO PRIZES?! Pffft, then count me in! :D

KWV

[Hamboogul]

INT. ROOM - DAY

Misty condensations on roses. Kittens with whiskers walk past copper-colored kettles and gloves made out of wool. The kittens sniff their noses on brown paper packages wrapped up in strings. Most likely deli-meats of some sort.

MARIA (V.O.)
Oh my lord, these are some of the things that please me so!

The kitten stares at us and communicates with us via telepathy.

KITTEN (V.O.)
When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad


FADE OUT.

I WIN!

[Kwvillen]

Uh, what does Mary Poppins have to do with rain drops?

:rolling:

KWV

[theblondewritr]

:rolling: Ya'll are crackin me up; especially you, Ham.

Sorry about not posting some guidelines. I tend to
be lax on rules because I believe it limits a writers' creative
juices. However, in lieu of my own personal beliefs, structure
may be more-than-necessary in this environment. heh ;)

Also, I don't have access to a computer as often as I'd like so
'no complaining' if you don't have a babysitter for this thread.

The following guidelines have been established so that you nerds
can have something to chew on.

Ugh...


Minimum five pages.
Raindrops only need be mentioned once in your sample. ie, your work need not be ABOUT 'raindrops'. Simply use the word. I don't ask for much.
KW ( dude, if you have to look up raindrops, we need to talk) LMAO

[Kwvillen]

KW ( dude, if you have to look up raindrops, we need to talk) LMAO


I actually did, a couple of days ago. :o I just wanted to make sure that I understood what actually makes up a "rain drop". What?! There's NOTHING wrong with that!:mad: :rolling: :D

KWV

[BottomlessCup]

Wait.

Minimum five pages or maximum?

[Qazworld]

Wait.

Minimum five pages or maximum?

hopefully minimum.

my new 250 pg epic has a brilliant rain scene - the likes of which will change your perception of falling water forever.

i cant wait for everyone to read it. ill blow this competition away.



P.S. please make reading everyone else's submission's mandatory for participation.

[Kwvillen]

Qaz: my new 250 pg epic has a brilliant rain scene - the likes of which will change your perception of falling water forever.

i cant wait for everyone to read it. ill blow this competition away.



P.S. please make reading everyone else's submission's mandatory for participation.

:rolling:

'Cept for the P.S. part. Count me out. :D

KWV

[J off course]

Here is my entry.



DEAD CELL


INT. FUNERAL HOME -- LATE AFTERNOON.

LAWRENCE BEASLEY, 68, in black suit leans against a window looking
expectedly out towards a driveway.

The headlights of a car as it pulls in and stops.

Lawrence rushes from the window and grabs an overcoat and slips it on.

He rushes to a door and exits.

EXT. DRIVEWAY -LATE AFTERNOON

WALTER, 68, struggles out of the car. Lawrence comes rushing up.

LAWRENCE
Walter, thank you for coming so
quickly.

WALTER
Lawrence, what is it?

Lawrence grabs his arm and leads him away. Behind them the ornate
structure of an old funeral home.

LAWRENCE
Come, I saw him in the west section.

Below a cemetary stretches away under a whispering rumble and dark veil of sky.

EXT. CEMETARY -- LATE AFTERNOON.

The two men wind around old tombstones.

Lawrence points.

LAWRENCE
There!

Lawrences' eyes open wide.

A YOUNG MAN on his knees with one ear to the ground.

LAWRENCE
Oh dear.

The young man sits up. He grasps a cell phone.

YOUNG MAN
Mr. Beasley, I'm sorry. I have to stop
it!

The young man gets up and dials a number on his cell. He gets
on his knees again and listens to the ground.

LAWRENCE
Boy, what are you doing?

The young man gets up again.

YOUNG MAN
Whoever has it is calling them.
Telling them, "Get it out, or you're going
to die" I don't remember who's next
on my list. It's...my...

He rushes away. Lawrence grabs Walter's arm and leads him after him.

LAWRENCE
He's not been himself lately. His wife died
Then, not long after his best friend in an accident...as
a doctor, Walter, you know how these things
affect people.

They come upon the young man again.

LAWRENCE
Come inside boy. My friend here
knows some things that will help you.

The young man gets up from his knees.

YOUNG MAN
It was stupid. I just put my phone down
for a minute. It must have dropped next
to the body and I couldn't see it. I'm sorry
Mr. Beasley, it won't happen again.


Walter turns as he sees a mound of upturned earth. He walks closer.

He looks down into a grave.

An open casket.

A decomposed body a ghastly sight below.

He stumbles back with his hand over his mouth.

WALTER
Lawrence?

The young man with his ear to the ground.

YOUNG MAN
I think I hear it. That's my
ring! I can hear it!

He starts to tear at the earth with his hands.

Lawrence reaches into his coat pocket.

LAWRENCE
That's it. I must call the police.
Where?...

He searches in his pocket but can't find what he's looking for.

Lawrence reaches out his hand.

LAWRENCE
Walter, let me use your phone?

Walter takes his hand.

WALTER
Lawrence, there is dirt under your
nails.

LAWRENCE
We must stop him. He's mad.

WALTER
Who are you talking to? There's
noone...

Lawrence stares at him.

WALTER
Come -- let's go inside. You look
awfully beat. It's time you retired
old man.

Lawrence looks around. They are alone except for the names on weathered stone.

A single RAINDROP lands on the end of his nose.

He looks up at the sky.

The rain begins in earnest battering the earth.

LAWRENCE
How could they sleep with the rain pounding
at their door?

Walter takes off his coat and drapes it over Lawrence's head and
leads him calmly away.

FADE OUT.

[dpaterso]

J, I liked that, and I could stop right there... Tho' I didn't see a connection between Lawrence and the Young Man, e.g. and just for fun's sake, Lawrence maybe remembering a younger version of himself who lost it for a moment when his wife died years ago -- that kind of thing (but were cell phones around then?). Shrug, maybe that's not necessary, I'm just saying. Readable entry.

-Derek
My Web Page - naked women, bestial sex, and whopping big lies. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Stop reading this and get some writing done instead.

[Kwvillen]

I liked it, J, I thought it was good. You kept my interest and I thought it was kind of off beat macabre, but in a good way. I could see this developing into a feature length horror script. :devil:

KWV

[J off course]

?»$¥t¼ou've fuvked Miss Congeniality before voting for her!


Critiques are supposed to come after the voting!

Glad you liked it though. I wrote it online and came up with the idea
within an hour after reading the challenge. I believe this is how the challenges
here should be approached. Well, that's how I approach them and probably
why I always place in the bottom two <smile>

KW...I see you got in before I did.

thanks

[dpaterso]

J, I had it figured for a personal writing challenge/exercise, not a formal contest. We're voting?

blondewritr plays polo too? :)

-Derek
My Web Page - naked women, bestial sex, and whopping big lies. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Stop reading this and get some writing done instead.

[J off course]

My bad.

I thought this was another of our "contests".

You see my brain "cells" are dying too.

And I thought the Devil wore Prada and carried a polo stick.

Blondwriter started this and NOT Gauchita.

Who are you again?

[amandag]

I like it, J!!:D

[theblondewritr]

:o

maximum five pp. bottomless. (it's applicable to you anyway) lmao

I'll be the sole judge of this one.
Don't sweat it folks. I'm not playing
'favorites'.

[warrenP]

:o

maximum five pp. bottomless. (it's applicable to you anyway) lmao

I'll be the sole judge of this one.
Don't sweat it folks. I'm not playing
'favorites'.


Of course you're not.



Do you like chocolate? I have an extra day at the Hershey Spa to give away... ;) Just sayin'

[theblondewritr]

Do you like chocolate? I have an extra day at the Hershey Spa to give away... ;) Just sayin'


Uh...Warren, that depends on which Hershey Spa you're refering to;
the Hershey Spa just off the Hershey Highway :eek: or the one located
on Wonka Road ;) ?

[warrenP]

Uh...Warren, that depends on which Hershey Spa you're refering to;
the Hershey Spa just off the Hershey Highway :eek: or the one located
on Wonka Road ;) ?


This one:

http://www.hersheypa.com/accommodations/the_spa_at_hotel_hershey/

:)

[theblondewritr]

OMG! :love: Nice try Warren.

Now, should you win fairly and squarely...you can book me a Suite mid-August. :bounce:

[warrenP]

I booked my wife a weekend there a while back, and although we have been very happily married for 14 years, I wasn't sure she would come home! Thankfully she did. :)

From what I've been told, it is one heck of an experience.

[theblondewritr]

That's it Warren, rub it in. :rolleyes: LOL I really need a Hershey Spa Day.

[yeehi]

EXT. CLOUD -- MORNING

RAINDROP is leaning out over CLOUD, and looking down, aghast.

RAINDROP
No.

CLOUD
...

RAINDROP
I have changed my mind. Just take me down.

CLOUD
...

RAINDROP
I can do it another time. OK? Just take me down.

CLOUD is parting.

RAINDROP
What are you doing? Just take me down, OK? Take me down!

CLOUD continues parting.

RAINDROP
No, please, don't! No! Please!

CLOUD completely parts, leaving RAINDROP in horror, to commence to fall.

RAINDROP
No!

[theblondewritr]

Thanks for your submission, Yeehi. :D

oh, and good luck. lol

[theblondewritr]

BJ Thomas wrote and performed a song about 'raindrops'. ;)

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me won't defeat me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothin's worryin' me

[trumpet]

It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothin's worryin' me

[J off course]

If B.J Thomas wrote "Raindrops" then how come Burt Bacharach took home the oscar?

with a little help from Carole Segar, Christopher Cross and Peter Allen I believe.

[Kwvillen]

RAIN DROPS

FADE IN:

EXT. INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT - NIGHT

Rain comes down in torrents, thunder rumbles.
A lighting crack reveals a dark, foreboding,
alley tucked between warehouses.

Water run-off gushes from rooftops.

The sound of a woman's panicked breath,
as stiletto heels splash through puddles.

Young SRINA, 18, a petite black woman,
ducks within shadows. She crouches
behind a BFI Trash Bin, removes her high
heels.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT - NIGHT

Srina steadies her breath, silently empties
her purse. Among its contents, her identification: FBI

Srina finds her cell-phone:

She presses the buttons. Nothing. Again
and again, nothing. Srina covers her mouth,
fighting back the emotion.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT - NIGHT

Srina pushes her matted hair from her face,
peers down the alley:

A stream of agitated water moves over
the shiny cobblestone and into the darkness.

Carefully, and on all fours, Srina edges her
way just beyond the trash bin to look down
the opposite side of the alley. She cranes her
neck, her eyes only visible above the bin.

A flickering light at the end of the alley:
A phone booth.

Srina's expression relaxes:

SRINA
Well, I'll be...

With an exhale, Srina slowly stands
ready to make a run -

MAN'S VO
What are you waiting for?

Srina quickly scrambles backward
against the wall.

An ominous SHADOW, the size of a man,
approaches.

SHADOW
Go ahead, show me what
you can do.

Srina shakes her head.

SRINA
I won't! You stay away from me!

As the shadow moves closer, Srina shakes
uncontrollably, her back arches back:

The Raindrops seem to move in slow
motion, like each individual drop is
distinct, from Srina's P.O.V.

Srina's eyes disappear beneath her lids.

INT. MENTAL HEALTH FACILITY - NIGHT

Srina's eyes disappear beneath her lids.

MALE AIDE O.S.
Srina?

NURSE O.S.
How long has it been,
this time?

A young MALE AIDE stands over a 75yr.
old Srina, huddled in a shower stall. He's
joined by a female NURSE.

MALE AIDE
It's okay, Srina, no one
is going to hurt you.

Srina blinks, regains consciousness.

NURSE
Are you okay, sweetie?

SRINA
Who are you people?

NURSE
I'm your nurse, Allison.
And Ted is the aide that
was assisting you with
your shower, remember?

Confused, Srina collects her bearings. ALLISON
wraps Srina in a towel.

SRINA
Allison?

Ted's cellphone goes rings.

TED
I got to take this. You need
me?

Allison shakes her head. Ted walks away.

ALLISON
You had me a little
concerned there for a
while.

Srina shews Allison with a waive of the hand.

SRINA
Please... It's those damn rain
drops that you have to worry
about... Do it to you every time.

With Allison's arm around Srina, they walk down
the hall.

The End.

This was a quick one, but I wanted to contribute. :)

KWV

[dpaterso]

If B.J Thomas wrote "Raindrops" then how come Burt Bacharach took home the oscar?

blondewritr's post thrust me headlong into a Twilight Zone parallel world moment. A hasty check of my Burt Bacharach greatest hits CD assured me all was well. But then I glanced at my videotape of Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid which now has Tony Curtis & Jack Lemmon on the cover. How do I get home from here??

-Derek
My Web Page - naked women, bestial sex, and whopping big lies. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Stop reading this and get some writing done instead.

[theblondewritr]

Thanks for your submission, KW. :)

Joffcourse, dpatersso-ya'll have WAY too much time on your hands.
:rolling:

...and apparently, so do I. LOL

http://www.tv.com/greys-anatomy/raindrops-keep-falling-on-my-head/episode/452209/summary.html

[ihavebiglips]

El Trono del Dios - (to be in spanish and subtitled - but I speak no spanish!)

EXT. DESERT - DAY
A dried river bed lay like a dusty scar in the ground. In the distance, a small, arid desert town.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE - DAY
A young south american boy, ALARICO, stands on the balls of his feet, peering into a well in the middle of the square. The well is deep.

ALARICO(VO)
My father said the well is as deep as a man's
soul, and if you were to dive in and hold your
breath for two hundred years you could swim
down and down and never touch bottom.

He leans further over the edge, perilously. His footing is unsure.

ALARICO(VO)
I wanted to think it led somewhere fantastic,
with cowboys and kings and men with long
faces and cigarette cases, like in the movie
house in Brazil. We went there once. My
mother was alive. The cinema scared her.
The fantasty helped, nothing happens here
in Calama. In Calama it does not even rain.
In Calama, not a single cloud had been seen
for three generations.

INT. HOUSE - DAY
A small, earthen colored house. Sparsely furnished - a table, two chairs, a kettle over a fire.

Alarico sits on his grandfather's lap. The old man speaks with a voice like dried leaves.

GRANDFATHER
When was it last that I told you the story
of the cloud, boy?

Alarico shrugs, offers a dreamy smile.

GRANDFATHER
Ah, the cloud. Pure as a strand of silk
stretched across the sky. My father
would call the cloud "the throne of God."
And all the men and boys of Calama
would pour into the streets and into the
riverbed, and a river of men from the
copper mines in Chiquicamata. We
would find ourselves in the streets with
pistols and rifles and fists full of stones
and the earth - and we would let loose
to knock the rain from the cupped hand
of God.

The old man places Alarico back on his feet.

GRANDFATHER
I only hope our aim has improved since
that day. Alas, it has not rained in my
lifetime.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE - DAY
Alarico and his FATHER by the well.

ALARICO(VO)
When I was very small I pleaded with my
father to describe the rain, as his father
had, and his before him.

Father draws a pail of water from the well. It takes a long while. Father fashions a canvas tarp to four poles in the ground, and stipples the tarp with a sharp knife. Alarico sits under the tarp as his father pours pails of water onto it. The water seeps through the pores and cascades down on the boy. He closes his eyes and sticks out his tongue as the water softly pelts him.

ALARICO(VO)
I remember it like one remembers a
dream.

EXT. DESERT - DAY
A small GIRL picks a flower from a cactus, the town to her back. The girl looks out into the vastness, and narrows her eyes. A tiny, singular cloud in the distance.

ALARICO(VO)
A small girl was the first to see it. A
harmless ash suspended in the sky. By
midday it loomed overhead.

Sunlight filters through the cloud, casting a shadow over the town.

EXT. TOWN - DAY
Alarico stands on the edge of town, peering out at the desert. The copper mine is a mouth in the distance, it's tongue winding toward the town.

EXT. DESERT - DAY
A procession of men, returning from the mines.

ALARICO(VO)
My father was among them. Soon,
there would be pistols and wine.
Sinners and madmen would confess
their crimes. The pious would be
found on hardened knees. Children
would tug at their mother's hem.

A MAN in a suit, sweating and fanning himself with a newspaper, walks around and speaks to people in the crowd. We do not hear his words.

ALARICO(VO)
Timo, the engineer from Santiago,
would tell us what he saw as facts.
That the Atacama never knew rain.
That it is the driest place on earth.
But Timo did not know what we knew,
that the misery and the beauty of the
desert was ours and ours alone.

INT. HOUSE - DAY
Alarico is in his house. He removes a cigar box from beneath his father's bed. In the box is a small shaving mirror, a bible, a pistol and a handful of bullets. Alarico files the bullets into the revolver, clicks it shut, and spins the cylinder.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE - DAY
The sun is a tiny ember as seen through the cloud. The men and the boys are in the square, the women and young girls watching from doorsteps. Alarico sees Father talking to another MAN.

ALARICO(VO)
Beneath the cloud, the sweat of the
men did not glisten so much as normal.
My father looked older than I'd ever
seen him.

Alarico approaches Father, puts the pistol in his hand. Father nods and pats Alarico on the head.

ALARICO(VO)
The sky was still darkened, but we knew
it would not last long.

One by one, the men begin to fire into the sky, a chorus of flash and powder. Tendrils of black smoke bleed from the firearms, creating a dirty acrid cloud of their own. Father stops firing and turns to Alarico.

FATHER
There is one bullet left.

He hands the pistol to Alarico.

FATHER (cont'd)
Perhaps you will be the rainmaker.

Alarico takes the pistol and aims at the cloud.

ALARICO(VO)
It was heavy, the pistol. I remember
my arms trembled. I held all the weight
of the world.

The town has grown quiet,all eyes are on Alarico. He takes a full breath, exhales half of it, and gently squeezes the trigger. The lonely report of the pistol echoes through the town. The people watch long, with hope.

Nothing.

The cloud continues its slow march across the sky. Just as they had fired their guns, the people begin to leave one by one. The sun begins to show.

ALARICO(VO)
My eyes burned with its radiance.
I could not look away.

FATHER
Come on. Time to go home.

They walk away. The square is now empty, save the lingering black cloud of the gun smoke.

END.

[theblondewritr]

Will you win? I cannot say. Though one thing is certain, you have big lips.

(wow) Thanks for your short. :)

[ihavebiglips]

Yes, for being a male honkey I do have... um... er... full lips.

(wow) :|

[Kwvillen]

That was theblondewritr's way of giving you a compliment, since she's doing the judging.

In other words, she thought your short was great, but didn't want to come across as bias toward anyone. And I have to agree, I loved your short, it was very well thought out, etc., etc..

I know theblondewritr's sense of humor, and since she's not posting here often, I felt the need to do a little PR.

Again, there was nothing meant by her comment. I know her, we kind of used to slum it here ALOT in Writing Exercises. :rolling:

KWV

[ihavebiglips]

That was theblondewritr's way of giving you a compliment, since she's doing the judging.

In other words, she thought your short was great, but didn't want to come across as bias toward anyone. And I have to agree, I loved your short, it was very well thought out, etc., etc..

I know theblondewritr's sense of humor, and since she's not posting here often, I felt the need to do a little PR.

Again, there was nothing meant by her comment. I know her, we kind of used to slum it here ALOT in Writing Exercises. :rolling:

KWV

No problem. I was playing along. I just use the :| face to convey a little deadpan. Thanks for the kudos, people. How often do you guys run these little contests? I think it's a great way to get motivated to practice screenwriting...

:) (better?)

[Kwvillen]

Ah, gotcha. :D

A bunch of different members host contests. Pretty much, whenever anyone feels like hosting one, I gather. I only hosted a Valentine's Short Contest last year.

theblondewritr hosted a Winter's Solstice Contest [Don't ask: :rolleyes: ] and now the Rain Drop Contest. [Ahem, again, don't ask: :rolleyes: :D ].

Welcome to Done Deal, btw.

KWV

[Harbinger]

Well well. Three entrants and there's already a contender.

Biglips that was magnificent. The patches of Voice over were a little longwinded, but as it's a quirky short who cares.

Not sure if I should go any futher on the compliment/critique since this is a contest (albeit lighthearted) and I wouldn't want to influence any votes.

I wasn't sure if I was going to enter (what with other commitments....and the World Cup of course......Oh for you Americans/Canadians that's one of those crazy little soccer tournaments some of us seem to like), but Biglips story has raised the bar and I love a challenge.

Hopefully more people will be influenced to give it a go.....or scared away who knows. Either way I sense this is the kick off.....to reference the World Cup again...of Blondewritr's contest.

GAME ON!


Ohh and COME ON ENGLAND!....Completely unrelated....sorry.

PS. I liked yours too KWV. Lets see who else steps up to the plate.............full of sport analogies today!

[Fortean]

Okay, maybe I'm too influenced by Calvin & Hobbes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calvin_and_Hobbes#Snowballs_and_snowmen); but, I'm thinking of how to produce a short film without dialog, a minimal set, very low budget, some paper maché props (for the snowman's frame and face), a lawn sprinkler for a "rain bar," a bit of time-lapse photography (for shadows and clouds), "public domain" music, etc.

Here's my submission; and, if you'd like to listen to my choice of music, open this link (http://www.savoyardlightopera.org/rud_o_b.mid) in another window, (and, start it at "EXT. BACKYARD - NIGHT").

Tödliche Regentropfen
ON BLACK: Sleigh bells start to jingle.

FADE IN:

EXT. BACKYARD - DAY

A jolly snowman, comprised of three balls of snow, (head, chest,
and bottom), stands alone on a patch of snowy ground.

The snowman has all the accouterments: a stove-pipe hat, two large
coal eyes, a carrot nose, a board grin of black teeth clenching a
corn-cob pipe, a scarf wrapped about his neck, coal buttons on its
chest, one arm of snow bent in a loop to rest on his hip, the other
outstretched arm of snow holds an old hockey stick in its grasp.

The swift movement of the snowman's shadow marks the passage of
time. Wind rustles the trees in the backyard.

Above, clouds roll across the sky and bring with them the gloom of
night. The sleigh bells cease their jingling.

EXT. BACKYARD - NIGHT

Music: Arthur Sullivan's "When The Night Wind Howls."

Lightning illuminates a series of shots:

With an expression of horror, the snowman gazes skyward, whereupon
a peal of thunder crackles in the distance.

Rain drops begin to fall into the backyard and dissolve the snow.

The corn-cob pipe lies fallen on the ground.

The stove-pipe hat flies off with the wind.

Its snowy flesh gone, a stick arm and fingers continue to hold the
hockey stick up.

The hockey stick topples over.

The snowy flesh of the arm on the hip falls off to reveal the
snowman's other stick arm and fingers.

Stick fingers search the snowman's gaunt face for its missing nose.

Looking downwards, the snowman's lower jaw falls away.

Stick arms search for missing vest buttons.

The snowman's bottom sinks halfway into a puddle.

The only a few of the snowman's upper teeth remain on a skull-shaped
face.

The snowman's bottom disappears into the puddle.

The snowman's scarf flies away with the wind.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2.


Stick arms flail above the puddle's surface, halfway up the snowman's
chest.

Only the top of the snowman's head, eyes, and stick arms reach upward
from a puddle.

EXT. BACKYARD - DAY

Music: The Last Bars of "When The Night Wind Howls."

Within a puddle of rain, two coal eyes, the carrot nose, and a few
black teeth mark the death of the snowman.

FADE OUT:

THE END.

[theblondewritr]

heh-KW, that $5 bucks is in the mail. No really, you earned it! You're a PR GENIUS! ---watch the word 'slum' tho...it's a stinker when used improperly. ;)

Harbinger, if the World Cup were any more popular here in the States I'd have to give up something else for Lent- and I'm not even Catholic. Moreover, nice try . Err, nice plug ;) I expect nothing less than 'stellar' from you.

Fortean, who knew? Who knew you'd....
well...
I'm speechless. Thanks for your submission. :)
It's unique.


I do hope others join in the challenge. It's so refreshing!

[Kwvillen]

theblondewritr: heh-KW, that $5 bucks is in the mail. No really, you earned it! You're a PR GENIUS! ---watch the word 'slum' tho...it's a stinker when used improperly. ;)


Just doing my job of making the world a beautiful place. :love:

:|

:D

KWV

[theblondewritr]

...you're doing a damn-fine job, KW. :rolleyes:

[Kwvillen]

theblondewritr: ...you're doing a damn-fine job, KW. :rolleyes:


Thanks. :D And thanks for the: :rolleyes: Just like old times.

KWV

[theblondewritr]

Just doing my job of making the world a beautiful place.


E'HEM, correction; mo beautiful. 'Mo betta' even :o

[ihavebiglips]

You guys are so cute together... :D

[theblondewritr]

lol ihavebiglips! :| It's a mystery to me...

[Kwvillen]

theblondewritr: It's a mystery to me...

I'm ihavebiglip's baby daddy.

:D

KWV

[ihavebiglips]

I'm ihavebiglip's baby daddy.

:D

KWV


I take it we're adopting. Two wee-wees and no woo-woos have a hard time making a fetus. But on another note, if we're doing the My Two Dads thing you can be Paul Reiser... I want to be the cool guy with the mullet.

:|

[theblondewritr]

:rolling: "I'm-a have biglips baby"

NO MULLETS!

[ihavebiglips]

:rolling: "I'm-a have biglips baby"

NO MULLETS!

Now, I have a feeling this could biologically work. How about a baby with a mullet? That'd be nice and... perverse?

[theblondewritr]

Biologically speaking, a baby is right. Trying to make a baby is right. However, a baby with a mullet, that's just plain wrong.

To Be Continued...

[ihavebiglips]

Biologically speaking, a baby is right. Trying to make a baby is right. However, a baby with a mullet, that's just plain wrong.

To Be Continued...

For you, my dear...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/catpita/83101381/

[theblondewritr]

:rolling: poor kid.

ihavebiflips, you might be a dangerous liason. ;)

[ihavebiglips]

:rolling: poor kid.

ihavebiflips, you might be a dangerous liason. ;)

I would reply to that accordingly, but I have to go write now... ;)

[theblondewritr]

Well folks, you have about 2 weeks to submit a short for this-here writing challenge. Just a friendly reminder :)

[warrenP]

Well folks, you have about 2 weeks to submit a short for this-here writing challenge. Just a friendly reminder :)

I'm not going to make it. :( That whole "real life" thing keeps getting in the way. Screw it, I'm gonna take five minutes and write one right now. Here it is. Sorry if it's sloppy, this is on the fly, five minutes and done.


FADE IN

INT. OFFICE

An exhausted, stressed-out, on-the-edge-of-a-breakdown, possibly-about-to-go-postal man sits staring at his monitor. His eyes are strained and red, piles of empty pop cans litter the floor around his desk.

As his fingers wearily plod along the keyboard, WARREN looks out the window and sighs.

WARREN
Damnit, I'm gonna miss another freaking writing challenge.

Through the window, he looks out at the steaming 103 degree summer day, while the pavement shimmers in the heat. He watches a black crow as it flutters in the sky and falls to the ground.

WARREN
I know how you feel.

EXT. OFFICE PARKING LOT

A massive dark storm builds up quickly in the sky. Wind whips up in a frenzy, leaves and litter race from one side of the parking lot to the other. Mothers pull their children inside. Dogs run into their doghouses. Store owners close up their shops.

INT. OFFICE

Warren walks over to the window and watches the impending storm. Without taking his eyes off the storm he talks to his uninterested coworker.

WARREN
Finally, some relief from this heat, huh?

A smile starts to form on the corners of his mouth.

EXT. OFFICE PARKING LOT

The storm hits with incredible speed and fury. Raindrops pour from the sky, flooding the parking lot in minutes. With thunder that shakes the building, a single lightning bolt slams into an ancient oak tree, splintering the base into thousands of pieces.

The tree falls in slow motion, crashing down on a blue Ford, smashing the roof, shattering the windows, and folding the doors open.

INT. OFFICE

WARREN
Fu*k


FADE OUT

[theblondewritr]

LOL WarrenP. Not bad... :) Thanks for the effort.

[warrenP]

LOL WarrenP. Not bad... :) Thanks for the effort.

Well, I'm glad it got a not bad :). Kind of fun to take a few minutes out of an otherwise joyful and wonderous day.

/ please note the previous short writing challenge was based on entirely fictional characters and has nothing to do with anyone's actual mood at the time.... no really...

[theblondewritr]

...Truth-be-known warrenP, I perceived the piece as a 'ruckus' in an otherwise mundane day. Thunderstorms that uproot trees are no laughing matter at the office. heh...I really liked the 'feel' of the positive and negative ions slamming together in your fast-building storm. It wasn't "The Perfect Storm" mind you. :o Enjoyable pace nonetheless.

[warrenP]

...Truth-be-known warrenP, I perceived the piece as a 'ruckus' in an otherwise mundane day. Thunderstorms that uproot trees are no laughing matter at the office. heh...I really liked the 'feel' of the positive and negative ions slamming together in your fast-builing storm. It wasn't "The Perfect Storm" mind you. :o Enjoyable pace nonetheless.

If you got the feel of positive and negative all slamming together, then I'm more than happy with the result. :)

[ihavebiglips]

One week left... post one, Crusty. Add to the few we have so far.

[dpaterso]

Shamelessly overruns by half a page. Simply ignore the last scene, IF YOU CAN. Chances are you'll have fallen asleep before then anyway. Warning, don't drive while reading these pages!

THE FORBIDDEN ISLE

FADE IN:

EXT. TEMPLE - NIGHT

SUPER: Ancient Greece, 555 B.C.

Armored FEMALE GUARDS at the column entrance look up as
leathery wings FLAP overhead.

FEMALE GUARD
Harpies!


INT. TEMPLE CHAMBER - NIGHT

An OLD PRIESTESS kneels before a beautiful goddess statue.
She looks up, frightened by the sound of those WINGS.


INT. SLEEPING CHAMBER - NIGHT

BRIALA, a virginal beauty, sits up in bed, panicked. Her
friend TIOLA on the next cot pushes herself up onto one
elbow.

TIOLA
Another nightmare?

BRIALA
This time it seemed almost real.

The curtain covering the doorway stirs.

TIOLA
Who's there? Nerela, is that you?

A claw tears the curtain down. A HARPY enters, she has
the face and breasts of a woman, the leather flesh and
wings of a demon. Beautiful but terrifying. Briala shrinks
back, afraid. Tiola draws a dagger from under her pillow
and leaps up.

TIOLA
You will not have her!

Tiola thrusts her dagger into the Harpy's shoulder. The
Harpy grabs Tiola by the neck and lifts her up -- SNAP!
The Harpy throws Tiola aside.

Briala pulls her blanket up to her nose and cowers as the
Harpy advances on her.


INT. TEMPLE HALLWAY - NIGHT

DORIUS, a warrior, leaps into the hallway. Dead FEMALE
GUARDS sprawl on the floor, throats torn open. Dorius
prowls along the hallway, sword ready.

The Old Priestess staggers out of a room, clutching her
bloody side. Dorius catches her and sits her down. She
looks up at him in wonder.

OLD PRIESTESS
Prince Dorius. I knew your fates
were intertwined. I knew it. You
must save her.

DORIUS
Of what do you speak? Save who?

The Old Priestess points along the hallway.

OLD PRIESTESS
Beware, Dorius son of Damaros.
The night has claws!


INT. SLEEPING CHAMBER - NIGHT

Dorius skids to a stop at the door. He sees Tiola, and
two empty cots. He runs on.


EXT. TEMPLE ROOFTOP - NIGHT

Two HARPIES with bloody claws stand over more dead GUARDS.
The wounded Harpy climbs upstairs carrying unconscious
Briala. She tries to flap her wings but one wing isn't
working, Tiola's dagger caused damage.

The Harpies exchange looks. The wounded Harpy passes Briala
to the second Harpy, then lifts her chin, exposing her
throat. The third Harpy rips the wounded Harpy's throat
open, killing her.

The two Harpies flap off into the night, taking Briala
with them. Briala wakes up, realizes what's happening,
and SCREAMS in terror.

Dorius leaps upstairs, too late. The wounded Harpy turns
into a smoking oily puddle before Dorius's astonished eyes.


INT. TEMPLE HALLWAY - NIGHT

Dorius marches past a doorway.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
Dorius...

Dorius stops, returns to the doorway. Curious, he steps
inside.


INT. TEMPLE CHAMBER - NIGHT

Dorius stares up at the goddess statue in awe. He looks
down, sees a gold disc attached to a chain. He picks it
up. Engraved on one side, the goddess's face, on the
reverse, a snake. He bows to the statue and exits.


INT. PALACE CHAMBER - NIGHT

KING DAMAROS rises from his throne as Dorius marches in.
OFFICERS and bearded PRIESTS gather to listen.

KING DAMAROS
It's true? The water goddess's
temple is attacked?

DORIUS
The guards didn't stand a chance.
They took a girl--

HIGH PRIEST
(quickly)
Merely an acolyte, lord king! Her
fate is sealed. We shall pray for
her and those who perished.

DORIUS
Father, you know who sent the
Harpies. Only one sorcerer commands
such power.

KING DAMAROS
Aye. But no fleet can approach
the island of Goronius without
being destroyed by the Kraken.

HIGH PRIEST
We shall send a sacrifice to the
gods. They will protect us from
further attacks.

DORIUS
Another acolyte? Hasn't enough
blood been shed?

KING DAMAROS
Do not question the will of the
gods, my son.

Dorius bows his head. The High Priest strokes his beard
and smiles smugly.


INT. PALACE HALLWAY - NIGHT

Dorius marches along, angry. He stops, pulls out the gold
disc, stares at it thoughtfully.


EXT. CITY HARBOR - GALLEY - NIGHT

A tough-looking bunch of WARRIORS wait for Dorius beside a
high-bowed Greek war galley.

DORIUS
I sail for the island of Goronius
the sorceror. Let any man who
does not wish to accompany me leave
now, with no disgrace.


EXT. GALLEY AT SEA - DAY

All the Warriors are with Dorius. They look ahead, to an
island of black rock.

MASTHEAD LOOKOUT
The Kraken! The Kraken is coming!

Something slithers through the sea, heading for the galley.
Gleaming rainbow scales and arrays of swordlike fangs.
It's huge, a monster.

DORIUS
Goddess, aide us.

Dorius hurls the gold disc into the sea. The Kraken dives
after the disc -- and doesn't come up again. The relieved
Warriors cheer.


EXT. BEACH - DAY

The galley is beached, Dorius jumps down onto black sand.

WARRIOR #1
The air... so dry.

WARRIOR #2
They say that's what preserves the
sorceror. He's a thousand years
old.

DORIUS
Save your breath. We must find
the girl.


EXT. RUINED FORTRESS - DAY

The Warriors stealthily approach the broken structure.


INT. FORTRESS COURTYARD - DAY

The Warriors are attacked by MUMMIFIED CORPSES. Dorius
cuts several down, dry sand leaks from their wounds. Dorius
looks up. GORONIUS, a bald ancient, watches from a balcony.
Dorius runs up a connecting stairway. Goronius disappears
inside.


INT. SHADOWED CHAMBER - DAY

Dorius cautiously enters. A Harpy attacks him, Dorius
parries her claws and cuts her down.

GORONIUS (O.S.)
So difficult to create. Undone in
a heartbeat. What do you seek,
Prince Dorius?

DORIUS
The temple acolyte your creatures
took.

GORONIUS (O.S.)
Very well. Take her and go.

Briala stumbles out of the shadows. She presses herself
against Dorius, sobbing. Dorius leads Briala to the
doorway. She smiles cunningly. As sunlight hits "Briala"
she turns into a Harpy, but Dorius avoids her slashing
claws and kills her.

Dorius runs into the chamber and grabs the astonished
sorcerer as he tries to flee through a secret door.

GORONIUS
Wait! Wait! This is all Kelios's
doing.

DORIUS
What does the high priest have to
do with this?

INSERT: The High Priest strokes his beard, smiles smugly.

GORONIUS
Kelios is jealous of the acolyte's
ability to draw water from the
air. He ordered her taken so he
might control her power.

DORIUS
A weather priestess! We have been
without one for so long.

GORONIUS
Let me live, I'll take you to her.


INT. PRISON CELL - DAY

Dorius pushes Goronius inside. Briala runs into Dorius's
arms.

BRIALA
I dreamt of this moment. But I
did not believe it, until now.

DORIUS
Moments ago I held a Harpy who
looked just like you. Prove you
are the water goddess's chosen
one.

Briala bites her lip, uncertain. Behind Dorius, Goronius
draws a hidden dagger. Briala concentrates and a water
droplet plops onto Goronius's brow. Goronius SCREAMS and
shrivels and vanishes, only his robes remain.

DORIUS
He could not abide moisture. And
you are who you claim to be.

Dorius takes Briala in his manly arms, she shudders with
pleasure.


EXT. CITY HARBOR - GALLEY - DAY

King Damaros greets Dorius as he disembarks. The Old
Priestess hugs Briala. Dorius glares at the High Priest
who slinks away. Dorius sees Briala receive upsetting
news from the Old Priestess. He excuses himself and joins
them. Briala wipes away tears and puts on a brave smile.

OLD PRIESTESS
I always suspected Briala had the
gift, and protected her as best I
could. She will become our high
priestess. It is her destiny. I
am sorry.

DORIUS
I don't understand...

OLD PRIESTESS
If she shares your cot, prince, her
gift will leave her. She belongs
to the water goddess now, and to
the city. Farewell, Prince Dorius.
And thank you.

He watches them go. Briala looks back once. The crowd
swallows them, and Dorius is left alone.

FADE OUT:

[Fortean]

SUPER: Ancient Greece, 555 B.C. A bit redundant, eh, Derek? As you're showing a temple, and later, characters in ancient garb, I'd suggest skipping the Super and indicate the time period in the description. You're shameless. Confess that you were inspired by warrenP's fluttering black crow!

[dpaterso]

A bit redundant, eh, Derek? As you're showing a temple, and later, characters in ancient garb, I'd suggest skipping the Super and indicate the time period in the description.

Hah, if I'd indicated the time period in the description, you'd tell me to turn it into a SUPER!

You're shameless. Confess that you were inspired by warrenP's fluttering black crow!

I'll confess I hadn't read warren's post yet (sorry warren). In all other respects, yes I'm shameless.

-Derek
My Web Page - naked women, bestial sex, and whopping big lies. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Take the critiques you get with a grain of salt. Invariably, some of the critics will be kooks, bitter curmudgeons, or complete fools. ~odocoileus

[ihavebiglips]

Sweet... I was having Clash of the Titans flashbacks.

[yeehi]

dpaterso, I loved it :)

:love: :love:

[dpaterso]

Thank you, thank you, I'll be appearing here again same time next year.

-Derek
My Web Page - shameless vampyre fiction & other shameless writings. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Take the critiques you get with a grain of salt. Invariably, some of the critics will be kooks, bitter curmudgeons, or complete fools. ~odocoileus

[theblondewritr]

:D derek, nice work.

It's not too late people. You have until midnight July 31 to submit your
work. I mean, look what WarrenP accomplished in a mere five minutes!

[theblondewritr]

...aaa...
aaaah...
...ah-choo!

[ihavebiglips]

...aaa...
aaaah...
...ah-choo!

Bless you, foo'. :heyfool:

[theblondewritr]

Thanks!

[ihavebiglips]

No last second entries?

[dpaterso]

Who wants to come last, or second?

Oh! See what you mean. Yes.

-Derek
My Web Page - shameless vampyre fiction & other shameless writings. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Take the critiques you get with a grain of salt. Invariably, some of the critics will be kooks, bitter curmudgeons, or complete fools. ~odocoileus

[theblondewritr]

The vote is in and we have a winner!

drumroll please...

(insert drumroll here)

Ihavebiglips, congratulations!

In my opinion, your ability to tell a story
exceeded all others.

To borrow from one of my favorite movies, Blazing Saddles;

"You use your tongue pertier than a $20 whore"

Again, congrats and the best of luck to you in your writing career.

To everyone who contributed, golly thanks! Keep at it!

[dpaterso]

Can't really complain about that choice, some nice words in ihavebiglips's entry. (cue Muttley-like sackinfrassin mumbling)

-Derek
My Web Page - shameless vampyre fiction & other shameless writings. (http://hometown.aol.co.uk/DPaterson57)
Take the critiques you get with a grain of salt. Invariably, some of the critics will be kooks, bitter curmudgeons, or complete fools. ~odocoileus

[theblondewritr]

lol dpaterso ;) Everyone else seems to be holding their Muttley-like sackinfrassin mumbling to a minimum. heh, I guess that's a good thing :)

[warrenP]

The vote is in and we have a winner!

...

Ihavebiglips, congratulations!

Congratulatoryisms to you Lips! :)

[theblondewritr]

WarrenP, your story takes 2nd. I really liked the 'hustle & flow' of your short story/storm. :)

[Kwvillen]

Great short, ihavebiglips. Congrats.

I thought dpaterso's was very good, also.

:)

KWV

[ihavebiglips]

Thank you, thank you all. I will commence celebratory bong hitting and Jack swigging.

[theblondewritr]

lol, I'd be foolish to think you'd invite me to your celebration.

Nonetheless, I'm with you in spirit. :bounce: YOU EARNED IT!

[yeehi]

Great short, ihavebiglips. Congrats.

I thought dpaterso's was very good, also.

:)

KWV

I would like to echo kwv

[ihavebiglips]

lol, I'd be foolish to think you'd invite me to your celebration.

Nonetheless, I'm with you in spirit. :bounce: YOU EARNED IT!


I think your spirit and my spirit ought to get together and go bowling. :bounce:

[ylekot43]

I call for a disqualification --- the only requirement was not complied with.....:rolling: --- The word "raindrops" doesn't actually appear in the script.



Fun read though -- love the "voice like dried leaves" part

[theblondewritr]

lol, the Judge accepted 'rain' and/or 'rainmaker' in this case.

now bugger-off ylekot! ;)

lmao ihavebiglips, an excellent idea, bowling! I must warn you though,
I have a turkey pin. That's three strikes in a row...lol

Which means, I'll have to brush up on my 'Turkey Dance':

http://www.jimloy.com/bowling/turkey.htm