Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Show rules for this event
The Hideous Hambeasts of Horror
"Look," I said to Mikey. "Are you hungry or not?"
My little brother nodded.
"Okay, well what do you want to eat?"
Mikey looked up at me pensively.
"How about soup?" I said, pulling a can of chicken noodle from the pantry shelf.
"Nuh uh."
"Hot dogs?"
He scrunched up his face in thought for a moment before nodding. "With lotsa ketchup!"
"Deal!" I said, taking the buns from the pantry and moving to the fridge. Uh oh, I thought, realizing we were out of ketchup.
"How about mustard and relish?" Mikey was a picky little kid when it came to food, and he loved his hot dogs one way and one way only, but I figured it was worth a shot.
"No! With ketchup! I want ketchup!" He stamped his foot, imitating the angry character he'd seen in some cartoon or other.
"Sorry buddy, but we're all out."
He made his patented frowny face.
I probably should've gone to the store. But I was off to start college at the end of the month and babysitting my little brother while our folks took a short vacation seemed like my last chance to be lazy for a while, so I'd been putting it off.
I dug deeper through the fridge, but pickings were slim. Nothing but leftovers, and Mikey hated leftovers, even more than he hated hotdogs without ketchup. I was wondering just how long some of things had been in there when I had an idea.
"Uh oh..." I said, leaning into the fridge so it looked like I was reaching well past the actual back of it. "Oh no! Mikey! They're back!"
Mikey was still frowning, but I could see his curiosity getting the better of him.
I pretended to start struggling with something unseen.
"What is it?" he finally asked. "What's back?"
I yanked a half-carved ham-hock out of the fridge. "The hideous hambeasts of horror!" I waved the ragged piece of meat around like it was trying to attack me and I was fending it off.
Mikey jumped.
"Quick, squire, my sword! Fetch me my sword!" I pointed at the knife block on the far counter.
Mikey started to smile when he caught on. I mimed more of a fight with the beast, eventually slamming the ham down on a cutting board. Mikey handed me the large carving knife, and I made a show of stabbing the ham several times.
As the hambeast struggled slowly, I warned Mikey about the curse. "We let it sit too long uneaten, so it has returned to its beast form to seek revenge! We must perform the cleansing ritual!"
"Like a magic spell or somethin'?" Mikey asked.
"Exactly! Quickly too, before it reawakens."
"What do we do?"
"You must quest for the three magic elements to bind it: Holey cow juice, spongy wheat squares, and floating green circles!
He scrunched his face in thought again, then his eyes lit up and he ran to the fridge. He came back a second later, triumphantly holding the package of Swiss cheese over his head like a trophy.
"Excellent work, squire! Now quickly, open it!"
He tore into the package, handing me a slice, and I slammed it down on a piece of severed ham, making the hissing and squealing noises of a spell subduing evil.
It didn't take him long to find the bread, and we quickly bound the ham in it. The pickles took a tad longer for him to figure out, so as we fished out the slices, I let the ham came back to life, attacking me. I fell to the floor, the sandwich "biting" at my jugular. "Ugh... it got me, Mikey. It's up to you now. You have to finish things. Pickle it!"
He shoved several wet and still dripping pickle slices onto the thing twitching at my neck, getting juice all over the floor and my shirt as well. I hissed and growled as the hambeast, and then everything was still.
Mikey bent down beside me. "Alas, I am done for," I said. "You must take on the mantle now." I coughed and wheezed for show, before putting my hand on his shoulder. "I dub thee... The Earl of Sandwich. Take this," I shoved the world's ugliest, most mashed and mangled sandwich into his hands. "Eat it all, and never let the beasts return!"
Mikey grinned and took a huge bite.
My little brother nodded.
"Okay, well what do you want to eat?"
Mikey looked up at me pensively.
"How about soup?" I said, pulling a can of chicken noodle from the pantry shelf.
"Nuh uh."
"Hot dogs?"
He scrunched up his face in thought for a moment before nodding. "With lotsa ketchup!"
"Deal!" I said, taking the buns from the pantry and moving to the fridge. Uh oh, I thought, realizing we were out of ketchup.
"How about mustard and relish?" Mikey was a picky little kid when it came to food, and he loved his hot dogs one way and one way only, but I figured it was worth a shot.
"No! With ketchup! I want ketchup!" He stamped his foot, imitating the angry character he'd seen in some cartoon or other.
"Sorry buddy, but we're all out."
He made his patented frowny face.
I probably should've gone to the store. But I was off to start college at the end of the month and babysitting my little brother while our folks took a short vacation seemed like my last chance to be lazy for a while, so I'd been putting it off.
I dug deeper through the fridge, but pickings were slim. Nothing but leftovers, and Mikey hated leftovers, even more than he hated hotdogs without ketchup. I was wondering just how long some of things had been in there when I had an idea.
"Uh oh..." I said, leaning into the fridge so it looked like I was reaching well past the actual back of it. "Oh no! Mikey! They're back!"
Mikey was still frowning, but I could see his curiosity getting the better of him.
I pretended to start struggling with something unseen.
"What is it?" he finally asked. "What's back?"
I yanked a half-carved ham-hock out of the fridge. "The hideous hambeasts of horror!" I waved the ragged piece of meat around like it was trying to attack me and I was fending it off.
Mikey jumped.
"Quick, squire, my sword! Fetch me my sword!" I pointed at the knife block on the far counter.
Mikey started to smile when he caught on. I mimed more of a fight with the beast, eventually slamming the ham down on a cutting board. Mikey handed me the large carving knife, and I made a show of stabbing the ham several times.
As the hambeast struggled slowly, I warned Mikey about the curse. "We let it sit too long uneaten, so it has returned to its beast form to seek revenge! We must perform the cleansing ritual!"
"Like a magic spell or somethin'?" Mikey asked.
"Exactly! Quickly too, before it reawakens."
"What do we do?"
"You must quest for the three magic elements to bind it: Holey cow juice, spongy wheat squares, and floating green circles!
He scrunched his face in thought again, then his eyes lit up and he ran to the fridge. He came back a second later, triumphantly holding the package of Swiss cheese over his head like a trophy.
"Excellent work, squire! Now quickly, open it!"
He tore into the package, handing me a slice, and I slammed it down on a piece of severed ham, making the hissing and squealing noises of a spell subduing evil.
It didn't take him long to find the bread, and we quickly bound the ham in it. The pickles took a tad longer for him to figure out, so as we fished out the slices, I let the ham came back to life, attacking me. I fell to the floor, the sandwich "biting" at my jugular. "Ugh... it got me, Mikey. It's up to you now. You have to finish things. Pickle it!"
He shoved several wet and still dripping pickle slices onto the thing twitching at my neck, getting juice all over the floor and my shirt as well. I hissed and growled as the hambeast, and then everything was still.
Mikey bent down beside me. "Alas, I am done for," I said. "You must take on the mantle now." I coughed and wheezed for show, before putting my hand on his shoulder. "I dub thee... The Earl of Sandwich. Take this," I shoved the world's ugliest, most mashed and mangled sandwich into his hands. "Eat it all, and never let the beasts return!"
Mikey grinned and took a huge bite.
I gotta side with Mikey here. I love me some ketchup on my hotdogs. Almost as much as I love cute Slice of life.
And cute it was. I loved the sibling dynamic, and for its shortness it did a good job of characterising both of them.
Effective and endearing. I liked it
And cute it was. I loved the sibling dynamic, and for its shortness it did a good job of characterising both of them.
Effective and endearing. I liked it
Cute, well written and I liked the historical joke at the end. Nice little slice of life story. Regrettably, there's not much I can add regarding constructive criticism.
It's a pretty nice take on the prompt, the whole setup is fine and, as others pointed out, endearing. I'm afraid there's not much to say beyond this, as the piece is meant to be a cute scene rather than a whole story. A bit fluffy and silly, but still in the first half of my slate.
Watch out for fridge monsters.
Watch out for fridge monsters.
Another ironic pairing -- thank you, slate. From a story about a Coca-Cola to a story that's the narrative equivalent of sugary empty calories.
... That's a little unfair, because there's no real problems here bigger than some scattered typoes. This is just very firmly in the fluffy-slice-of-life camp. I keep returning to the word "cute". And clever, a little, but mostly cute. What little hooks of character we get (the narrator's last summer at home and their presumed emotions about their change in life) are drowned in the cute. It's undeniably effective but heart attacks from textual diabetes aren't my thing.
So, not at the top of my slate, but it's certainly effective at what it sets out to do and I'll nudge it upward accordingly. And MrNumbers, if this is you out to prove a point again after your high placement last round with a super-cliche sadfic, I hope that this medals just to spite you. :V
Tier: Solid
... That's a little unfair, because there's no real problems here bigger than some scattered typoes. This is just very firmly in the fluffy-slice-of-life camp. I keep returning to the word "cute". And clever, a little, but mostly cute. What little hooks of character we get (the narrator's last summer at home and their presumed emotions about their change in life) are drowned in the cute. It's undeniably effective but heart attacks from textual diabetes aren't my thing.
So, not at the top of my slate, but it's certainly effective at what it sets out to do and I'll nudge it upward accordingly. And MrNumbers, if this is you out to prove a point again after your high placement last round with a super-cliche sadfic, I hope that this medals just to spite you. :V
Tier: Solid
More rapid-fire Ceffy feedback of variable value.
It's an undeniably cute scene even if there isn't too much else going on here. It feels partly as though it's come from the panels of a Calvin and Hobbes sketch, which might be why I smiled so often. Nice job, and thanks for sharing.
It's an undeniably cute scene even if there isn't too much else going on here. It feels partly as though it's come from the panels of a Calvin and Hobbes sketch, which might be why I smiled so often. Nice job, and thanks for sharing.
The only thing:
That gave me pause was Our Narrator blithely asking this little kid to get him the big carving knife. This becomes less of a concern the older Mikey is, but we're not told his age: Our Narrator's, yes, but not the kid brother's. If there's a big age disparity between the two, that's something you could expand on, author, if you wanted to expand this out and make it more than cute and fluffy. Still, it's a nice piece.
Mike
That gave me pause was Our Narrator blithely asking this little kid to get him the big carving knife. This becomes less of a concern the older Mikey is, but we're not told his age: Our Narrator's, yes, but not the kid brother's. If there's a big age disparity between the two, that's something you could expand on, author, if you wanted to expand this out and make it more than cute and fluffy. Still, it's a nice piece.
Mike
>>horizon
No, no, I actually got sick and slept through the entire writing period. I actually came back to check on this fic thinking the exact same thing.
I agree that the accusation was deserved though. I think it says a lot that this is something I'd have written to prove the point again. That it continues to prove that point I no longer wish to see made is... distressing me greatly.
No, no, I actually got sick and slept through the entire writing period. I actually came back to check on this fic thinking the exact same thing.
I agree that the accusation was deserved though. I think it says a lot that this is something I'd have written to prove the point again. That it continues to prove that point I no longer wish to see made is... distressing me greatly.
Thanks for all the feedback everyone. Reactions were all pretty much as expected, as this was only ever meant to be short and sweet, and it seemed to land as such for most. Exceptions below. :-)
>>horizon
>>MrNumbers
So, I actually disliked this prompt... a LOT. When it won, I was actually thinking we must have some Rabid Puppies sort of thing going on. (Then again, I'm prone to think the same thing about national politics lately as well.) The only way I could've been more annoyed by it is if it was literally "A Glass Case of Ot."
That said, I decided to take it as a challenge to actually write to the prompt and NOT some weakened form of it. I definitely wasn't trying to make a point about "empty fluff" being winning material, though I'll agree the story is basically that. I was simply the only thing I could come up with that was actually on prompt and not depressing, as I imagined (correctly) that we'd have a lot of dark and sad tales.
I'm personally worn out with sad/dark stories in these contests, as I feel it's far easier, given a short word count, to make a story feel "deep" by evoking negative emotions. Not that I haven't enjoyed plenty of sad stories (and written a few), but it wasn't what I was in the mood to write (or read), and my muse wasn't up to the task of putting serious meaning into only 750 words without going dark. So fluff it is.
>>horizon
>>MrNumbers
So, I actually disliked this prompt... a LOT. When it won, I was actually thinking we must have some Rabid Puppies sort of thing going on. (Then again, I'm prone to think the same thing about national politics lately as well.) The only way I could've been more annoyed by it is if it was literally "A Glass Case of Ot."
That said, I decided to take it as a challenge to actually write to the prompt and NOT some weakened form of it. I definitely wasn't trying to make a point about "empty fluff" being winning material, though I'll agree the story is basically that. I was simply the only thing I could come up with that was actually on prompt and not depressing, as I imagined (correctly) that we'd have a lot of dark and sad tales.
I'm personally worn out with sad/dark stories in these contests, as I feel it's far easier, given a short word count, to make a story feel "deep" by evoking negative emotions. Not that I haven't enjoyed plenty of sad stories (and written a few), but it wasn't what I was in the mood to write (or read), and my muse wasn't up to the task of putting serious meaning into only 750 words without going dark. So fluff it is.