Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Bonjour ma colère, salut ma hargne, et mon courroux... coucou!
“Come in.” Vinyl Scratch looked up from her music sheet. “Lyra, finally!”
The mint unicorn responded to the comment with a smirk. “Says the always late DJ.”
“Late? I’m never late.”
“Can you name one of your performance you started on time?”
Vinyl stared at the ceiling, looking for what should have been an easy answer. When she found none, she looked at her friend with a fixed grin. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about my record of punctuality. Do you have what I asked?”
“Well…” It was Lyra’s turn to smile stupidly, trying to avoid Vinyl’s gaze. “I’ve been a bit busy, you know, and —”
Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Lyra, come on! It’s not that hard.”
“Not that hard? I’m a musician, I write music, Vinyl, not poetry. Why don’t you ask the changeling?”
“He’s not a changeling. Besides, he is kinda busy at the moment.”
“So he can be busy but I can’t?” said Lyra.
“That’s not the same and you know it,” shouted Vinyl. “Besides, I didn’t ask you to write a masterpiece, just a little something to accompany the music. It’s for the Music & Song Discovery, for Celestia’s sake. The performance is tonight! Everypony is counting on us, and I — ”
“Vinyl.” Both unicorns turned their heads towards where the voice of Vinyl’s roommate came. “Be a dear and don’t yell this early, would you?”
“But Octi,” whined Vinyl. “Lyra didn’t do what I requested, and now the entire performance goes out the window.”
The earth pony put a calming hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder. “Don’t get yourself so worked up. If I remember correctly, this is supposed to be a surprise.”
“Indeed,” confirmed Lyra.
“So just postpone your surprise until next round.”
“But —”
“Shhhh,” whispered Octavia, putting her hoof on Vinyl’s mouth. “No more words.”
“Errr, should I leave you two alone or what?” asked Lyra.
Any resemblance to actual events or people is purely coincidental. Therefore, if you ever find one, we would strongly advise you to not ship them.
The mint unicorn responded to the comment with a smirk. “Says the always late DJ.”
“Late? I’m never late.”
“Can you name one of your performance you started on time?”
Vinyl stared at the ceiling, looking for what should have been an easy answer. When she found none, she looked at her friend with a fixed grin. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about my record of punctuality. Do you have what I asked?”
“Well…” It was Lyra’s turn to smile stupidly, trying to avoid Vinyl’s gaze. “I’ve been a bit busy, you know, and —”
Vinyl rolled her eyes. “Lyra, come on! It’s not that hard.”
“Not that hard? I’m a musician, I write music, Vinyl, not poetry. Why don’t you ask the changeling?”
“He’s not a changeling. Besides, he is kinda busy at the moment.”
“So he can be busy but I can’t?” said Lyra.
“That’s not the same and you know it,” shouted Vinyl. “Besides, I didn’t ask you to write a masterpiece, just a little something to accompany the music. It’s for the Music & Song Discovery, for Celestia’s sake. The performance is tonight! Everypony is counting on us, and I — ”
“Vinyl.” Both unicorns turned their heads towards where the voice of Vinyl’s roommate came. “Be a dear and don’t yell this early, would you?”
“But Octi,” whined Vinyl. “Lyra didn’t do what I requested, and now the entire performance goes out the window.”
The earth pony put a calming hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder. “Don’t get yourself so worked up. If I remember correctly, this is supposed to be a surprise.”
“Indeed,” confirmed Lyra.
“So just postpone your surprise until next round.”
“But —”
“Shhhh,” whispered Octavia, putting her hoof on Vinyl’s mouth. “No more words.”
“Errr, should I leave you two alone or what?” asked Lyra.
Any resemblance to actual events or people is purely coincidental. Therefore, if you ever find one, we would strongly advise you to not ship them.
>>GroaningGreyAgony
"That wasn't quite the answer I expected. See me after class, Snips," said Cheerilee. "Now my little ponies, could anyone try to tell us what is art? If possible, in an understandable way."
Silence fell. Every foals looked at each other, hoping to find some clues from the others to Miss Cheerilee's question.
"Come on students, don't be shy. I'm not expecting a full answer. Whatever you would say could be a start."
"It's hmm, it's beautiful?" tried Sweetie Belle.
"Not exactly but that's a good point. Art is, indeed, usually beautiful. Even if different ponies have different tastes, artists often try to represent beautiful things."
"It has a meaning?" said Silver Spoon.
"True but like beauty, meaning is not always the core of an art piece. Sometimes, it's just gratuitous. Anything else?"
"It represents things in real life!" said Featherweight. "Like photos!"
"Once again, it's true and it isn't. Recently, we've seen artists putting aside realism for abstraction, things like shapes, colors, lines."
"Pfff, art is beautiful but isn't, it has meaning and sometimes not, it's reality and it isn't. Sounds like a lot of —?"
"Archer!" scolded Cheerilee. "Do I need to convoke your parents once again?"
"No, Mrs Cheerilee," said Archer sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted. Right. Art is something unique. It's the expression of one of your deepest and hidden feeling."
"Like Sweetie Belle's love for Button?" asked Apple Bloom.
The whole classroom burst into laughter, save for Sweetie Belle and Button Mash, the two foals blushing and trying to escape each other look.
"Maybe," said Cheerilee, grinning. "It's at least something pure and untouched that artists try to present to an audience. Something coming from deep inside their heart."
"Ewww," exclaimed Scootaloo. "That's so cheesy!"
"Maybe you want to sing us a song about that, Scootaloo?" replied Cheerilee. Scootaloo instantly stood still. "That's what I thought. Anyway, I want you to take your pencil and your paintbrushes and draw something. Then you'll try to write a short story about one or severals art pieces you'd have made."
"About what?" asked Pip Squeak.
"Well, it will be up to you to decide. Write a word or a phrase on a small paper and then, we'll vote to decide which one will be our theme. So be creative."
More than half of the classroom erupted in cheers, thrilled with the idea of drawing and painting. The rest simply groaned, hoping that it would soon come to the writing part.
"That wasn't quite the answer I expected. See me after class, Snips," said Cheerilee. "Now my little ponies, could anyone try to tell us what is art? If possible, in an understandable way."
Silence fell. Every foals looked at each other, hoping to find some clues from the others to Miss Cheerilee's question.
"Come on students, don't be shy. I'm not expecting a full answer. Whatever you would say could be a start."
"It's hmm, it's beautiful?" tried Sweetie Belle.
"Not exactly but that's a good point. Art is, indeed, usually beautiful. Even if different ponies have different tastes, artists often try to represent beautiful things."
"It has a meaning?" said Silver Spoon.
"True but like beauty, meaning is not always the core of an art piece. Sometimes, it's just gratuitous. Anything else?"
"It represents things in real life!" said Featherweight. "Like photos!"
"Once again, it's true and it isn't. Recently, we've seen artists putting aside realism for abstraction, things like shapes, colors, lines."
"Pfff, art is beautiful but isn't, it has meaning and sometimes not, it's reality and it isn't. Sounds like a lot of —?"
"Archer!" scolded Cheerilee. "Do I need to convoke your parents once again?"
"No, Mrs Cheerilee," said Archer sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted. Right. Art is something unique. It's the expression of one of your deepest and hidden feeling."
"Like Sweetie Belle's love for Button?" asked Apple Bloom.
The whole classroom burst into laughter, save for Sweetie Belle and Button Mash, the two foals blushing and trying to escape each other look.
"Maybe," said Cheerilee, grinning. "It's at least something pure and untouched that artists try to present to an audience. Something coming from deep inside their heart."
"Ewww," exclaimed Scootaloo. "That's so cheesy!"
"Maybe you want to sing us a song about that, Scootaloo?" replied Cheerilee. Scootaloo instantly stood still. "That's what I thought. Anyway, I want you to take your pencil and your paintbrushes and draw something. Then you'll try to write a short story about one or severals art pieces you'd have made."
"About what?" asked Pip Squeak.
"Well, it will be up to you to decide. Write a word or a phrase on a small paper and then, we'll vote to decide which one will be our theme. So be creative."
More than half of the classroom erupted in cheers, thrilled with the idea of drawing and painting. The rest simply groaned, hoping that it would soon come to the writing part.
This will be our Last Call. There’s No Turning Back; The Next Generation has arisen. They were waiting Under the Surface.
I won’t Lie You a River: Long Story Short, we’re Here at the End of all Things. The Writeoff that you knew is over. A Lightning in a Jar won’t serve as a Cold Comfort. There won’t be any Last Minute revelation, no new light revealing the True Colors of all this.
We have entered the Uncanny Valley. Who’s gonna be undone first is To Be Determined. We may have a way out But First, We Need to Talk About Parallel Universes, especially the one located Under the Sun.
It’s a Long Way Down to this place, but ignore the exhaustion; Ignore It and It Will Go Away. We only have One Shot if we want to retaliate. We will be like phoenixes, Rising From the Ashes, and this new generation will gaze at our might, and they will despair, Staring Into the Abyss of the vacuity of their life.
As we reach for this universe, be careful to not enter The Twilight Zone. It’s a place of Endless Struggle, where you starve with no way to eat, where your thirst cannot be quenched, where your desires are left unsatisfied.
So come forth, raise your pen and raise your hands. We won’t leave without creating. One. Last. Time.
*Big Up to GGA*
I won’t Lie You a River: Long Story Short, we’re Here at the End of all Things. The Writeoff that you knew is over. A Lightning in a Jar won’t serve as a Cold Comfort. There won’t be any Last Minute revelation, no new light revealing the True Colors of all this.
We have entered the Uncanny Valley. Who’s gonna be undone first is To Be Determined. We may have a way out But First, We Need to Talk About Parallel Universes, especially the one located Under the Sun.
It’s a Long Way Down to this place, but ignore the exhaustion; Ignore It and It Will Go Away. We only have One Shot if we want to retaliate. We will be like phoenixes, Rising From the Ashes, and this new generation will gaze at our might, and they will despair, Staring Into the Abyss of the vacuity of their life.
As we reach for this universe, be careful to not enter The Twilight Zone. It’s a place of Endless Struggle, where you starve with no way to eat, where your thirst cannot be quenched, where your desires are left unsatisfied.
So come forth, raise your pen and raise your hands. We won’t leave without creating. One. Last. Time.
*Big Up to GGA*
“Pssst, it’s your turn.”
“What? But, but…”
“Come on Fluttershy, you can do it.”
“I know, Rainbow Dash, but wouldn’t Pinkie be more fitting for this?”
“Even if she would, she isn’t here right now, she’s foalsitting Pound and Pumpkin so it’s all up to you. Go on, we’re counting on you.”
“Hmmm okay. *Sigh*. Hello everypony and welcome to the new white — no — writeoff round. Come and gather — but only if you want. This round is a pony round, so Rainbow Dash expects — what? Oh sorry — we expect you to celebrate Equestria and its inhabitants. That’s right, ponies are not the only ones to live in our wonderful world, there are several other species like griffins, minotaurs... Also, there are tons of cute little critters too, who deserve more attention. It’s always ponies, ponies, ponies and more ponies. Look at this little platypus here! Isn’t he the cutest and the sweetest? And look at this firefly! Isn’t her light heartwarming? Oh, here you have a -”
“Fluttershy!”
“Yes, Rainbow?”
“Ugh, spell out the rules and let the writers decide what they want to write about.”
“Oh my, you’re right. I’m sorry. So this is a MiniFic round so hum, no less than 400 words and no more than 750 words. Now, now, I know that may seem short but I know you can do it. I have faith in you, even if you might possibly assume that whatever you could pen would potentially be, hmm, not good?”
“Whoa, understatement of the century.”
“Rainbow Dash! That is NOT a nice thing to say!”
“What? That’s true! Most of the entries are awful and — no! No! Don’t give me that look, please!”
“You’re gonna apologise right now, Rainbow Dash!”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, your entries are all awesome! Please, stop staring!”
“That’s better. Even if some entries are middling, everypony can learn from them and you are all awesome for trying. Isn’t that the point of doing?”
“Yeah, maybe…”
“Rainbow? Please remind me, when did you eventually manage to be a full-fledged Wonderbolt?”
“... Last year.”
“And when did you first put in an application for the team?”
“... Four years ago.”
“That’s rather a long time if you ask me.”
“Not really, it usually takes twice that time but I’m Rainbow ‘Awesome’ Dash! … What? Why are you laughing?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, I just remembered how your first show ended in a trash-”
“Okay, let’s talk about something else, right? What about the prompt? What is it this time?”
“It’s up to them to decide.”
“Is it? Then I trust you, writers, to choose a prompt related to your favorite pegasus, how she tried so hard to achieve her dreams and overcome her fears.”
“Rainbow!”
“I was talking about you, Fluttershy.”
“Eeeep.”
“Where are you going? Come back and — too late. Well, it’s only us now. And Fluttershy was right, better try than do nothing, so good luck with this one, guys. See you in the finals!”
“What? But, but…”
“Come on Fluttershy, you can do it.”
“I know, Rainbow Dash, but wouldn’t Pinkie be more fitting for this?”
“Even if she would, she isn’t here right now, she’s foalsitting Pound and Pumpkin so it’s all up to you. Go on, we’re counting on you.”
“Hmmm okay. *Sigh*. Hello everypony and welcome to the new white — no — writeoff round. Come and gather — but only if you want. This round is a pony round, so Rainbow Dash expects — what? Oh sorry — we expect you to celebrate Equestria and its inhabitants. That’s right, ponies are not the only ones to live in our wonderful world, there are several other species like griffins, minotaurs... Also, there are tons of cute little critters too, who deserve more attention. It’s always ponies, ponies, ponies and more ponies. Look at this little platypus here! Isn’t he the cutest and the sweetest? And look at this firefly! Isn’t her light heartwarming? Oh, here you have a -”
“Fluttershy!”
“Yes, Rainbow?”
“Ugh, spell out the rules and let the writers decide what they want to write about.”
“Oh my, you’re right. I’m sorry. So this is a MiniFic round so hum, no less than 400 words and no more than 750 words. Now, now, I know that may seem short but I know you can do it. I have faith in you, even if you might possibly assume that whatever you could pen would potentially be, hmm, not good?”
“Whoa, understatement of the century.”
“Rainbow Dash! That is NOT a nice thing to say!”
“What? That’s true! Most of the entries are awful and — no! No! Don’t give me that look, please!”
“You’re gonna apologise right now, Rainbow Dash!”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, your entries are all awesome! Please, stop staring!”
“That’s better. Even if some entries are middling, everypony can learn from them and you are all awesome for trying. Isn’t that the point of doing?”
“Yeah, maybe…”
“Rainbow? Please remind me, when did you eventually manage to be a full-fledged Wonderbolt?”
“... Last year.”
“And when did you first put in an application for the team?”
“... Four years ago.”
“That’s rather a long time if you ask me.”
“Not really, it usually takes twice that time but I’m Rainbow ‘Awesome’ Dash! … What? Why are you laughing?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, I just remembered how your first show ended in a trash-”
“Okay, let’s talk about something else, right? What about the prompt? What is it this time?”
“It’s up to them to decide.”
“Is it? Then I trust you, writers, to choose a prompt related to your favorite pegasus, how she tried so hard to achieve her dreams and overcome her fears.”
“Rainbow!”
“I was talking about you, Fluttershy.”
“Eeeep.”
“Where are you going? Come back and — too late. Well, it’s only us now. And Fluttershy was right, better try than do nothing, so good luck with this one, guys. See you in the finals!”
Once upon a time, it was nearly four o'clock.
A little boy quickly logged on to the Discord chat where a discussion was taking place. He had missed the beginning, thanks to the school, but if they were as prompt as he had heard, he hadn’t probably missed much.
It was his first participation in a Writeoff round, and even though his entry hadn’t passed the prelim, he had fun, and he was eager to listen to what these podcasters had to say on the other entries. So he wasted no time and hopped onto the vocal chat.
“Let’s move on to the next story, The Earth Is Blue Like An Orange,” sighed a voice. The green indicator told the little boy it was Definitely_A_Sock.
“This is brilliant,” answered a second voice, belonging to Fentastic Mass.
“This is okay,” said a third voice, belonging to Featherpen Caress.
“This is shit,” added the first voice.
There was a moment of silence.
“Shit?”, asked Fentastic Mass. “How dare you call this story shit? It has a really, really beautiful metaphor! I mean, hmm, even the title points towards the interpretation I got and that everyone should have.” He clicked his tongue and the boy winced. It was his fourth tongue clicking in three sentences. “I mean, think about the fruit. It is round, like the Earth, and the character in the story tries to put — to set — his life, hum, on the right path. But life runs in circles, so, hum, the character is more or less doomed to struggle against life itself, in a way. That’s very Nietzschean.”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” replied Definitely_A_Sock. “I see where you’re going but I don’t think it is emphasized enough by the story, though it seems a bit far fetched. I’m afraid to say this story didn’t do really much for me. The stakes are too vague, and I spent half of the story wondering where the character was.”
“I’m sorry to be this guy,” said Featherpen Caress. “But I completely disagree with your interpretation. While I’m still not sure about what the story means, I’ve been really caught by the beautiful prose. Moreover, we had a complete arc, and that must be handed to the story. It’s just a shame the resolution isn’t that clear.”
“It isn’t clear for both of you because you wouldn’t recognise a metaphor even if it would slap you in the face,” said Fentastic Mass.
“Oh I’m sure I can recognise a metaphor, only if it isn’t made obscure to excuse a poor writing,” retorted Definitely_A_Sock. “Sounding like a smartass doesn’t make you a smartass.”
“You’re just uncultured Philistines,” snapped Fentastic Mass.
“And you’re just a stuck up intellectual,” replied Definitely_A_Sock.
“I just wanna add that this story has the most beautiful use of the word ‘canoodle’ and —”
“Shut up, Featherpen,” said the other two.
The little boy muted the sound and started typing.
Are they always like this?
Yes, replied BackSix. Though it’s just the warm-up. Wait for a minute, it only gets better :)
True, added Revolving Teapot. They still believe we come for what they had to say but we’re here for the show :p
That was it. The little boy closed Discord and went back to the website. He still had stories to read and to review, and doing that would be a better use of his time than this. It was what mattered after all, wasn’t it?
A little boy quickly logged on to the Discord chat where a discussion was taking place. He had missed the beginning, thanks to the school, but if they were as prompt as he had heard, he hadn’t probably missed much.
It was his first participation in a Writeoff round, and even though his entry hadn’t passed the prelim, he had fun, and he was eager to listen to what these podcasters had to say on the other entries. So he wasted no time and hopped onto the vocal chat.
“Let’s move on to the next story, The Earth Is Blue Like An Orange,” sighed a voice. The green indicator told the little boy it was Definitely_A_Sock.
“This is brilliant,” answered a second voice, belonging to Fentastic Mass.
“This is okay,” said a third voice, belonging to Featherpen Caress.
“This is shit,” added the first voice.
There was a moment of silence.
“Shit?”, asked Fentastic Mass. “How dare you call this story shit? It has a really, really beautiful metaphor! I mean, hmm, even the title points towards the interpretation I got and that everyone should have.” He clicked his tongue and the boy winced. It was his fourth tongue clicking in three sentences. “I mean, think about the fruit. It is round, like the Earth, and the character in the story tries to put — to set — his life, hum, on the right path. But life runs in circles, so, hum, the character is more or less doomed to struggle against life itself, in a way. That’s very Nietzschean.”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” replied Definitely_A_Sock. “I see where you’re going but I don’t think it is emphasized enough by the story, though it seems a bit far fetched. I’m afraid to say this story didn’t do really much for me. The stakes are too vague, and I spent half of the story wondering where the character was.”
“I’m sorry to be this guy,” said Featherpen Caress. “But I completely disagree with your interpretation. While I’m still not sure about what the story means, I’ve been really caught by the beautiful prose. Moreover, we had a complete arc, and that must be handed to the story. It’s just a shame the resolution isn’t that clear.”
“It isn’t clear for both of you because you wouldn’t recognise a metaphor even if it would slap you in the face,” said Fentastic Mass.
“Oh I’m sure I can recognise a metaphor, only if it isn’t made obscure to excuse a poor writing,” retorted Definitely_A_Sock. “Sounding like a smartass doesn’t make you a smartass.”
“You’re just uncultured Philistines,” snapped Fentastic Mass.
“And you’re just a stuck up intellectual,” replied Definitely_A_Sock.
“I just wanna add that this story has the most beautiful use of the word ‘canoodle’ and —”
“Shut up, Featherpen,” said the other two.
The little boy muted the sound and started typing.
Are they always like this?
Yes, replied BackSix. Though it’s just the warm-up. Wait for a minute, it only gets better :)
True, added Revolving Teapot. They still believe we come for what they had to say but we’re here for the show :p
That was it. The little boy closed Discord and went back to the website. He still had stories to read and to review, and doing that would be a better use of his time than this. It was what mattered after all, wasn’t it?
And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder: one of the blurry faces saying: "Come and see." And I saw. And behold, a white page.
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts, and I looked and behold: a blank page. And her name, that sat on it, was Calliope. And Eloquence followed with her.
There are some men goin' 'round takin' fics.
And they decide which to throw and which to pick.
Everybody will be treated all the same.
Some of these names will be reaching down.
When the Writeoff comes around.
The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror with each post starting to pileup.
Will you partake of that last offered cup
Or disappear and never claim the crown
When the Writeoff comes around?
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers.
One hundred million ringtones singin'.
Multitudes are logging in the small museum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'.
Some are torn and some are hidin’.
It's Alpha and Omega's Kingdom come.
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
The authors are all sharpening their quills.
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
It's hard for thee to grind against the mills.
In measured hundredweight and penny pound
When the Writeoff comes around.
And they decide which to throw and which to pick.
Everybody will be treated all the same.
Some of these names will be reaching down.
When the Writeoff comes around.
The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror with each post starting to pileup.
Will you partake of that last offered cup
Or disappear and never claim the crown
When the Writeoff comes around?
Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers.
One hundred million ringtones singin'.
Multitudes are logging in the small museum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'.
Some are torn and some are hidin’.
It's Alpha and Omega's Kingdom come.
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
The authors are all sharpening their quills.
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
It's hard for thee to grind against the mills.
In measured hundredweight and penny pound
When the Writeoff comes around.
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts, and I looked and behold: a blank page. And her name, that sat on it, was Calliope. And Eloquence followed with her.
Well, this round is coming to its end. Almost everyone has done his recap of his own story and we're talking about the future contests. But before the next contest in a few days, I wanted to say a few words.
So, as last words for this round, I'll thank RogerDodger for providing us a free environment where we can have these contests, an environment he keeps on improving.
Another shout out for our fellow podcasters who take on their time to offer us a few hours of discussion on some of the entries, that usually lead to discussion to litterature.
And last, but not least, a big shout out to all the writers and the reviewers for obvious reasons.
That'll be all.
Take care of yourself and your folks.
So, as last words for this round, I'll thank RogerDodger for providing us a free environment where we can have these contests, an environment he keeps on improving.
Another shout out for our fellow podcasters who take on their time to offer us a few hours of discussion on some of the entries, that usually lead to discussion to litterature.
And last, but not least, a big shout out to all the writers and the reviewers for obvious reasons.
That'll be all.
Take care of yourself and your folks.
The outside temperature has dropped. You can feel it in the air as you have to put on your housecoat to fetch the newspaper outside. But as you open the door, you realise something is off, and you can’t really put your finger on it. Your garden seems in order, aside from the one thousand and one yellow daffodils dancing in front of you. Taking a look at the sky, you see the Sun in its usual place, quickly spinning around the Moon.
The daffodils bring you back to Earth as you hear them chanting.
“It’s right, it’s off! It’s right, it’s off,” they keep repeating. What is right and what is off? Certainly not you.
Anyway, your morning routine must go on, and you bend down to grab what you came for in the first place. But instead of the newspaper, your hand grabs something metallic. A screw. Scratching your head, you try to remember where this screw should go. Every screw is designed to fit a hole, but this one is holeless.
You go back inside and sit at your table, pondering what you’re gonna do with your find. You can’t dig a new hole in one of your pieces of furniture, that wouldn’t make any sense. Should you put it in the small bowl next to the front door? But if you start doing this, then you’ll do it with everything else, and a bowl won’t be enough to contain every lost screw. How many of them are they, by the way? Is this one the exception? Or will it become the norm, sooner than later?
A whistle breaks your train of thought. The kettle is boiling now, but you don’t go fetch it. Instead, you gaze at the cast iron pot, watching the lid slowly rising until the water finally breaks free, a wave of hot water washing you away in an infernal whirlpool. The only thing you can hear is the daffodils’ song, but as your body is abused, your mind finally grasps the meaning of this song.
“It’s the Writeoff! It’s the Writeoff!”
You don’t know where this tidal wave will leave you, but as you stuff your hands in your pockets, you sadly realise that, alongside your screw loose, you’re one card short of a full deck. No patience to shorten your exile.
Find the song that has inspired this and win my eternal gratitude.
The daffodils bring you back to Earth as you hear them chanting.
“It’s right, it’s off! It’s right, it’s off,” they keep repeating. What is right and what is off? Certainly not you.
Anyway, your morning routine must go on, and you bend down to grab what you came for in the first place. But instead of the newspaper, your hand grabs something metallic. A screw. Scratching your head, you try to remember where this screw should go. Every screw is designed to fit a hole, but this one is holeless.
You go back inside and sit at your table, pondering what you’re gonna do with your find. You can’t dig a new hole in one of your pieces of furniture, that wouldn’t make any sense. Should you put it in the small bowl next to the front door? But if you start doing this, then you’ll do it with everything else, and a bowl won’t be enough to contain every lost screw. How many of them are they, by the way? Is this one the exception? Or will it become the norm, sooner than later?
A whistle breaks your train of thought. The kettle is boiling now, but you don’t go fetch it. Instead, you gaze at the cast iron pot, watching the lid slowly rising until the water finally breaks free, a wave of hot water washing you away in an infernal whirlpool. The only thing you can hear is the daffodils’ song, but as your body is abused, your mind finally grasps the meaning of this song.
“It’s the Writeoff! It’s the Writeoff!”
You don’t know where this tidal wave will leave you, but as you stuff your hands in your pockets, you sadly realise that, alongside your screw loose, you’re one card short of a full deck. No patience to shorten your exile.
Find the song that has inspired this and win my eternal gratitude.
>>Monokeras
>>Posh
>>Kitcat36
>>2Merr
>>MLPmatthewl419
>>Bachiavellian
>>007Ben
>>CoffeeMinion
>>MrExtra
>>DuskPhoenix
>>AndrewRogue
>>kits
>>Lamplighter
>>Trick_Question
>>Mystic_Mind89
>>GroaningGreyAgony
>>Rao
>>The Power Wolf
>>Baal Bunny
>>georg
>>Whitbane
>>horizon
>>TrumpetofDoom
>>TitaniumDragon
>>discord
>>Winston
>>moonwhisper
>>Icenrose
>>Miller Minus
>>ToXikyogHurt
>>dragon discord
>>PaulAsaran
>>writeratnight
>>Dubs_Rewatcher
>>Cold in Gardez
>>Pascoite
>>TheCyanRecluse
>>regidar
>>zaponator
OKAY, I think I got everyone (plz >>RogerDodger, make an @everyone available, pwetty pwease)
As you may not know, there is a podcast airing on the discord server (link a the top of this page) this Saturday, but thanks toQuill Scratch someone, the schedule has changed. We will start at 9 pm GMT. There are still room if you want to become a member of the podcasters club.
What are we gonna do during this podcast you say? Well, we will obviously talk about this round and some of the entries (we can't really talk about all of them).
And you know what's great? It's up to YOU to decide which stories you want to see (or hear) discussed. How? With the magic of Internet, you click on that beautiful link right here.
In the meantime, keep reviewing.
>>Posh
>>Kitcat36
>>2Merr
>>MLPmatthewl419
>>Bachiavellian
>>007Ben
>>CoffeeMinion
>>MrExtra
>>DuskPhoenix
>>AndrewRogue
>>kits
>>Lamplighter
>>Trick_Question
>>Mystic_Mind89
>>GroaningGreyAgony
>>Rao
>>The Power Wolf
>>Baal Bunny
>>georg
>>Whitbane
>>horizon
>>TrumpetofDoom
>>TitaniumDragon
>>discord
>>Winston
>>moonwhisper
>>Icenrose
>>Miller Minus
>>ToXikyogHurt
>>dragon discord
>>PaulAsaran
>>writeratnight
>>Dubs_Rewatcher
>>Cold in Gardez
>>Pascoite
>>TheCyanRecluse
>>regidar
>>zaponator
OKAY, I think I got everyone (plz >>RogerDodger, make an @everyone available, pwetty pwease)
As you may not know, there is a podcast airing on the discord server (link a the top of this page) this Saturday, but thanks to
What are we gonna do during this podcast you say? Well, we will obviously talk about this round and some of the entries (we can't really talk about all of them).
And you know what's great? It's up to YOU to decide which stories you want to see (or hear) discussed. How? With the magic of Internet, you click on that beautiful link right here.
In the meantime, keep reviewing.