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Chinaren



Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2005 12:19 am    Post subject: Linear story competition for January. - We have a winner!  

Okay then, time to vote people! Can someone remind me when the voting ends please?

Good luck to all the writers! :D


You will have about 3 weeks to write a short story, edit it, and post it for consideration. Submissions should be posted on or before Jan 6th, and polling will begin on Jan 8th.

Proof readers will take your story, break it down, make sure it fits the word limit, grammar, spelling, plot, character development, etc. are all present and correct. This is a voluntary effort and no one person's responsibility. Please make comments and criticisms of entries constructive.

You can make changes to your story all the way up to the final posting date. After that, the stories that have not passed the critique will be disqualified. Those that are left will be put up for a vote for anyone to vote on.

If you win, you get to brag for a whole month. You get a prize of 100 fables, the honor is listed on your profile, and your story is immortalized in the City Auditorium.

This will be run like a professional writing contest. Your story will be edited, picked apart, and thoroughly looked at. If you exceed more than ten spelling or grammar errors, your story will be given back to you to rewrite. So check your work.

If your work goes over the word limit it will be given back to shorten. If it remains the same length it will be disqualified.

If your story does not follow the topic and genre, it will be given back to you to rewrite.

Things that must be right vs. artistic freedom- There are things like plot, and flow that might be your intent. That is totally cool. A proof reader might suggest that you pick up the pace or add more detail here and there. That is your choice to do or not. If you feel the story can stand on its own without change that is fine. Spelling, grammar, genre, word count, etc. are expected to be correct, no exceptions.

If you are proofreading- Look for spelling and grammar mistakes first. Word count comes next. Then answer the following questions for the story.

Did it stay within the genre?
Did it follow the topic?
Did it have a beginning, middle, and an end?

After you have done this feel free to comment on the story as you see fit. Bear in mind that anything beyond what is listed above is pretty much considered opinion. This can be taken or left by the author.

The specs for this month:

Length: Up to 1511 words
Genre: Whatever you like.

Topic:

The story must involve a telephone (or other communication device which serves the same purpose and works in the same sort of manner) some Good news and some Bad news. In addition it must also contain the word: burst.

You may interpret that as literally or figuratively as you wish. :shock:

Happy Linear Story competing! :)
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Smee



Joined: 16 Oct 2004
Posts: 5215
Location: UK

Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2005 4:27 am    Post subject:  

Quote: Whilst now considered old and outmoded compared to my SoaP competition in experimental, the Linear competition has a grand tradition behind it

In your opinion maybe - You're a bad man. ;)

You have bragging rights, not shameless advertising rights :D

Leave the linear comp out of your marketing scams - it's not old - not even 1 year old yet.

~ Telling off dept :D
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Chinaren



Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Mon Dec 19, 2005 5:05 am    Post subject:  

Quote: Leave the linear comp out of your marketing scams - it's not old - not even 1 year old yet.

Heehee! :D

Relatively old! ;)
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Shady Stoat



Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England

Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2005 7:34 am    Post subject:  

In the Balance
By Shady Stoat

Simon Baxter was halfway out of the door when the telephone began to ring. He glanced at his car, glanced at his watch, then back to his car again.

Finally, cursing the fact that he was going to be late for work, he rushed back into the house and picked up the receiver.

“Yes?”

For a moment, there was nothing but crackling. Then, a sibilant voice whispered:

“It is not your turn yet.”

“Pardon? Look, have you got the wrong number? I…”

There was a soft noise, like someone punching a wall through a pillow. Then a yellow-bright light searing in through the front door and the windows. A sound of shattering glass, a feeling of great heat. There was pain, seeming to source from the whole of his body at once. His nostrils were seared with the smell of smoke and gas, and he reeled backwards until he stumbled down the three steps to his kitchen.

His head hit the floor. His vision began to blur and his mind swam into the darkness.

---------

“Jack! We’ve got a survivor!”

Simon slowly prised his eyes open. His skin felt taut and stiff and full of pain. He groaned softly.

“Can you hear me, mate?” A man in a paramedic’s uniform leaned over into his field of vision.

Simon mumbled something that may have been a ‘yes’.

“Can you move your arms? Your legs? Tell me if this hurts… or this…”

“What… happened?”

“Burst gas main in the street outside, mate. You were lucky. If you’d been outside when it blew…” The medic trailed off, looking at his partner. “Okay, he seems to have escaped any serious injury. Let’s get him shifted.”

He turned his attention back to Simon. “We’ll get you to the hospital. They’ll take good care of you, mate. Just hold in there, okay?”

Simon grunted an affirmative. Not that it was necessary. He was hardly in any condition to disagree with them, whatever they decided.

As he was stretchered into the ambulance, the paramedic’s words kept coming back to him.

You were lucky.

It is not your turn yet.

If you’d been outside…

He had been outside. The phone call had drawn him out of the danger.

He should have felt lucky. Instead, he began to feel very frightened.

What the hell was going on? Could it be coincidence? If not, how could someone know about a gas leak beforehand? Were terrorists after him? And what had they meant by those six words?

What would terrorists want with a vacuum-cleaner repairman anyway? The boldest thing he ever did was have a few pints at his local on a Sunday afternoon!

He shivered… and winced in pain. Those paramedics had a professional view of ‘serious injury’. Fair enough – but it still hurt! He was covered with cuts and bruises and the skin on his face and arms felt raw. There was probably an egg-sized lump on the back of his head too. He gave a pitiable moan.

Nobody took any notice. The ambulance arrived at the hospital and he was wheeled into a cubicle while he waited for a doctor to assess him.

It all happened in a typical British lack-of-hurry. Simon had plenty of time to think – and worry.

What if he was involved in something he knew nothing about? What if forces were making him a pawn in some deadly game? What if they drew the rest of his family into it somehow? His father – his brother – his fiancée! Anxiety gnawed at him, making him squirm in his hospital bed.

By the time that the doctor came to look him over, Simon was no longer concerned with his injuries. The mysterious voice had taken on a more threatening overtone.

It is not your turn… yet.

When would it be his turn? What were they trying to tell him? Neither Simon nor those around him were safe until he could find the answers to his questions!

Foremost in his head was the knowledge that he had to get out of here.

“Well, nothing much appears to be wrong,” said the Doctor, cheerily. “Still, we’d like to keep you in overnight for observation. There’s always a small risk of concussion, and…”

“I’ll be fine,” interrupted Simon. “I just want to get out of here.”

“That would be most…”

“…unwise, yes, whatever.” Simon shook his head. “I’ll take some painkillers, if you’ve got them. If not, I’ll be going anyway. You can’t keep me here against my will.”

Less than half an hour later, he limped out of the hospital, searching in his pockets for his mobile phone. His first call was for a taxi. His second was to his father. After four rings, the phone was picked up at the other end.

“Hello, John Baxter speaking.”

“Dad!”

“Simon. How are you, son?”

“I’m… never mind. Are you okay?”

“Never better. Why do you ask?”

“Have you… have you had any weird phone calls recently?”

“Well… there’s this one? Son – what’s going on?”

Simon hung up, immediately dialling his brother’s number. Damn! No answer!

Then he tried his fiancee’s phone. Nothing, either on the home number or the mobile. He was trying, for the umpteenth time, to get a response, when the cab pulled up.

“What ‘appened to you?” asked the cabbie, as Simon sank onto the back seat.

“Fourteen, Black Street,” Simon snapped.

“All right, all right, don’t bite me ‘ead off.”

The cab pulled away. Simon felt sweat stinging the cuts on his forehead. Panic was threatening to blossom out and overcome him. He tried to force it back with logic.

Just because Katie wasn’t answering, it didn’t mean anything terrible had happened to her. Same with Gideon. They could be busy. They could be out. They could be dead, blasted by an explosion that ripped flesh and bones apart, exposing their quivering organs and intestines while their blood pooled on the roadside…

“…there.”

Simon snapped his head towards the driver. “What?”

“Eleven quid thirty, Mister. We’re there.”

He looked around. The journey had been lost to his burgeoning anxiety. Now he was parked outside Katie’s flat. His heart was fluttering nervously in his chest. Even though there were no signs of fire or destruction, he felt instinctively that things were not right.

He thrust a twenty pound note at the cabbie and limped away before any change was offered. Using his key, he let himself in and started up the stairs. Two flights and he was at his fiancee’s door.

For a moment, he was incapable of moving. The tension strung out until he could bear it no longer. He turned the key and stepped inside.

The lounge was a mess. Katie was always untidy, Simon had expected nothing less. His eyes wandered over takeaway wrappers and empty bottles of wine, past the open door to the bathroom and over the recessed section of grease-stained kitchen.

Then he turned his head and gazed straight at the rumpled skin of the bed-covers, through a doorway to the left. Staring back at him in dismay were two faces. Katie and Gideon. Together, naked in her bed, guilt written in the way they clutched the covers to their flesh.

Time stopped. The scene became almost supernaturally clear. Simon stared with huge eyes, seeking out the detail that would tell him this wasn’t real. This was a dream. His fiancée and his brother… it was a joke. It had to be.

The detail never emerged.

Something snapped. He roared in animal fury, charging towards the bed. There was something in his hands. He smashed it into the white face of the man who had stolen what was his. He smashed and swung and beat and laughed with a rage greater than words. There was blood and screaming and the red taste of wrath.

Then, as it had come, so it departed. He panted, devoid of energy, devoid of anger. His brother’s broken face stared back at him, lifelessly. His fiancée was curled in a corner, fist jammed in her mouth, eyes wet with terror.

In the horrible silence, the chirp of his mobile phone sounded.

Hardly knowing what he was doing, Simon reached into his pocket with trembling fingers. His movements tentative and fumbling, he flicked the catch open and placed the receiver to his ear.

“Yes?” he whispered.

A crackling

“The balance has shifted. Now it is your turn.”

The phone dropped lifelessly from his grasp as a circle of fire formed around him. Dark shadows of demonic form drifted through the walls, advancing upon the terrified man as he struggled to escape the fire. Closer, closer they came, drifting through the flames until they were a breath away from their victim.

Closer still, burning him with their cold touch. The shadows drew together, enveloping him in a shroud of terror. He writhed and screamed, consumed by shadow and flame until nothing remained but the soulless void of his corpse.

When the balance shifts, the Devil is in the detail…
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Chinaren



Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2005 9:38 pm    Post subject:  

Ooh! Cool! And damn! I was going to write a three line story and pick up an easy win when no one else entered!

*Shakes fist dramatically* I would have got away with it too, if it wasn't for those meddling kids. Er, I mean meddling Stoat!
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Chinaren



Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 8:12 pm    Post subject:  

Er, anyone else? Come on now, we can't let Stoat have a free ride! :shock:
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LordoftheNight



Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 8:36 pm    Post subject:  

why don't you enter then?

if people insist i may bring myself to write something down

but it won't be good - its half four in the morning so dont be surprised if its all...wrong
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LordoftheNight



Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 10:32 pm    Post subject:  

ok, i wrote one

it really isn't any good, but i'll throw it out their just so there can be a poll
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LordoftheNight



Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 10:34 pm    Post subject:  

First Class Service

The phone rang, the noise inaudible, due to the heavy metal blaring out from the speakers of the busy shop. John Morton, proprietor of the Last Gambit was too busy to answer the call regardless. The small shop was crowded with customers, searching frantically through the shelves stacked high with engraved skulls and silver jewelry. Ever since two days hence, the store had been filled to bursting point. This was due to the skeleton which had been hung in the centre of town, its bones stripped of flesh, and a sliver pentagram worn on a pendant around its neck.

During the day the phone rang three times, each of which was ignored by the long haired Caucasian who owned the store. It wasn’t until he was closing down for the night that he finally heard it ring. Shaking his black hair out of his eyes he crossed the shop floor swiftly and held it to his ear.

“Mr. Morton.” It was not a question. The voice was calm and monotonous, with a slight infliction at the beginning of every word. “It has come to our attention that you need our help”

John shook his head at the prank caller, and replaced the phone on its hook, and left the shop.

************************************************************************

The next day he returned to his place of work, and, as was his custom, turned on the speakers. Or, to be more specific, he tried to turn on the speakers. In actual fact, what came out of the black boxes didn’t sound like music at all. A thin, weedy rasping sound made its way out, followed by a few clicks. The rasping sound then continued. John was no expert at technology, but he was fairly sure this was not a usual occurrence. He picked up the phone, and began to dial the number.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help” The same monotonous voice, the inflictions in all the same places. Now very confused, John replaced the phone, and dialed again. As soon as the voice began to speak John hung up.

Reaching under the till for a copy of the yellow pages, he scrolled down through the list for the number of a different repairman. He dialed in the number, and was connected. One ring and the voice answered in its usual tone.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help

“Who are you people?” John replied. He was not a man given to displays of emotion, and managed to keep his voice slow and steady. “What is it you want?”

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that that you need our help.” The voice continued as if he had never spoken, as if he had not spoken.

“Who are you? Are you…a recording?”

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help.”

John replaced the phone, and turned away. He had taken two steps when the phone rang again. Knowing who it would be he turned regardless, and put the receiver to his ear.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help.”

With a snarl of frustration, which to anyone who knew him well – there were none – would have been extreme, John slammed the phone back down, before removing it from the hook. Then he turned and left the shop quickly, locking the door behind him.

************************************************************************

It was two hours later that he managed to track down a repairman who was open for business on Sunday. The man promised to come as soon as he could. When John returned to the store he found a crowd of people had gathered outside the shop, and were waiting to be let in. Impatiently John pushed his way through them, and opened the door to the shop, letting the masses in. While they were searching the shelves he had no time to think, to busy was he running the till and answering questions. It was not until a slight lull in the frenzied store that he had a chance to sit down. It was then that the phone rang.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help.” John shook his head, and replaced the phone. As the customers slowly filed their way out, back to their homes and family, he realized that he had left the phone off the hook, making its ringing an impossibility. He glanced at it, seeing it firmly on the hook, and shrugged.

The phone and the doorbell rang once in harmony and John jumped. He moved to let the repairman in, and showed him to the speakers. He ignored the phone. After five minutes of ringing the repairman – whose name was Mr. Wright – looked up.

“Mate – your phones ringing. You know that right?”

“I know” replied John with a shrug. “I don’t want to answer it.” The repairman sighed and climbed to his feet. He picked up the phone and listened to the voice at the other end.

“It’s for a Mr. Morton. Would that be you?” With a sigh John took the phone and placed it to his ear.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help.” He hung up.

“Well John, I’ve got some good news. Your speakers are fixed. A fly or something had somehow gotten into the wiring and chewed away at the wires. It should be fine now.” John thanked the man, and paid him.
As he was leaving the phone rang.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help.”

************************************************************************

The next day was Monday, which was usually the quietest time of the week. The influx of people that the skeleton had generated died down, mostly were the coroners report came back saying that the bones were a century old, and that this was not about to become a regular occurrence.

John was sitting in his shop as usual, listening to his music on his newly repaired speakers. The phone rang. Sighing, he walked over and picked it up.

“Mr. Morton. It has come to our attention that you need our help.” Instead of merely replacing the handset, he thought the question carefully.

“What do I need your help for?”

We are afraid we have some bad news Mr. Morton.”

“What is it?” John replied, pleased to have finally moved on.

“We regret to inform you. Your phone is broken.”
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Chinaren



Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 10:39 pm    Post subject:  

LOL!!! :tu2: :rofl: :clap:

Good one!

But wait! Does it have the word "Burst" in? Must have a burst! *Goes to check*

Okay, it does, missed it the first time! :D
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LordoftheNight



Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 10:42 pm    Post subject:  

i put it in bold and everything for you


and btw, why are you putting it up? isn't it the linears mods job?
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Shady Stoat



Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England

Posted: Thu Jan 05, 2006 11:09 pm    Post subject:  

LOL! Good one, Lordy :)
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Smee



Joined: 16 Oct 2004
Posts: 5215
Location: UK

Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 12:25 am    Post subject:  

Quote: and btw, why are you putting it up? isn't it the linears mods job

The winner last month has the job of putting up the next one.

Ack - the deadline is today....

*puts on thinking cap*
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dovesland
Guest





Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 1:55 am    Post subject: Telephone Operators Gone Wild  

Kathleen gritted her teeth as her supervisor trundled into her cubical, Her job as a telephone operator at an answering service had gotten increasingly boring as night after night she got the same old callers, “I’m out of meds.”, “ My water is off again and my baby is dirty.”, etc. However, by the look on her boss’s face, Kathleen just knew that tonight would be different than most.
“Kathleen, I’ve got good news and bad news for you tonight” her boss said while riffling through her stack of DVDs.
“The good news is, you get to work by yourself tonight, Tammy called in sick.”
“Kewl, I get to watch Rocky Horror with out hearing how queer it is all night long. What’s the bad news?”
“The bad news is that last night someone broke the DVD player, there is a copy of Alien Sex Orgies stuck in the disk drive and it just keeps playing over and over again.”
“WHAT?!?!? Who brought that in here?” Last night had been her night off and she forgot to check the schedule to see who had covered for her while she went to the 30 Seconds to Mars concert.
Her boss gave her a sheepish grin and replied, “I’m not sure, no one owned up to it and the only person working last night was Tammy.”
Kathleen rolled her eyes and remembered that she had a book stashed in her locker. After a few more minutes of small talk, her boss locked her in for the night and Kathleen began her solo night of manning the cities phones.

After a few hours of the usual calls, and running down a couple of drunken college students who were pulling fire alarms in one of the apartment complexes, the calls ground down to their natural halt, and Kathleen was able to take a break to get her book from her locker. She had settled in to read when the phone rang.
“Thank you for calling the Office of Dr. Strangelove, this is Kathleen speaking how may I help you?”
“Is Dr. Strangelove available?”
Kathleen looked at the clock on her desk and rolled her eyes. It was 3:00 am and this nut wanted to know if the Dr. was in? “No wonder the man is calling a shrink,” she thought before beginning to quote the Dr.’s office hours to the caller.
“Oh, I'm sorry it isn’t that late in my quadrant, I forgot all about the time shift in your galaxy”
“Galaxy?” Kathleen thought, “Oh boy I’ve got a live one here.”
“Sir Do you want to leave a message for the doctor?” she asked trying not to giggle.
“No, no message, I was just looking for some strange love to fill a few hours of time.”
Kathleen looked at her call waiting screen. Nope no one was waiting for her to answer, “Hmmm maybe this wont be a bad night after all," she thought.
“Well, I’m not Dr. Strangelove but I’ve got some time, what are you wearing?”
“Wearing?” he replied.” Oh yes, your planet require clothes….lets see, I’m wearing a kwava neari and a smorgle zorg, how about you?”
Suddenly remembering the strange DVD, she flipped on the TV.
“Let’s see, I’m wearing a metallic silver mini skirt with a see-through bra.” Kathleen countered, describing the woman on the screen before her.
“Mmmmmm I love metallic silver on earthlings, tell me what you want to do to my mighty hoganaker.”
Kathleen continued to watch the DVD and describe the scene on the TV. The phones remained silent while the strange man continued to ask her for more vivid details. After an hour of this play by play, a strange noise came from the man on the phone.
“Aaaaaarrrruuugggaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant!!!!!!” then another sound burst from her earpiece. A splashing sound combined with a loud thud.
“Oooooh baby that was the best oglasm I've ever had, what planet have I dialed, I have to come visit you and see my metallic silver clad goddess?”
“Oh alien sir, I can’t revel my location, it’s against our planetary rules of conduct. Besides you will have the memory of our call to light up your interstellar nights.” Kathleen replied as she recalled Phil locking the door as he left. The man on the phone got quiet for a moment and finally replied, “Yes, and I’ll always have the DVD to watch when my memory turns into goshtigity mush.”
“DVD?!?!? What DVD?” Kathleen asked urgently and quickly turned off the TV.
“Turn the TV back on earth princess and you’ll see what I mean.”
Now Kathleen was beginning to get a scared. How did this guy know that she was watching that cheesy porn and describing it to him for his pleasure? She hesitated, looked around the room, then timidly flipped the power switch back on.

In front of her was the same quirky Porno that she had described to her strange love caller, but instead of some unknown actress laying spread eagle on a space rock, she screamed as she recognized her own face staring back at her in post coital bliss. Before she knew what was happening, her cubical disappeared. She was instantly surrounded by plastic space rocks and looking up at a strange but well hung bluish green man.
“Welcome my earthly princess, are you ready for your next scene?” he replied as she quickly covered her breasts.
“What next scene? Where am I? Who’s answering the phones?” she demanded.
“You’re on the set of my interstellar movie, I’ve searched the universe for starlets to make my fellow spurgonians pop with delight, and earth has the most talented women. Wait here, I’ll get your costar for the next scene.”
As he walked into the next room, Kathleen frantically started looking for a way to escape.
“I’m asleep; I’ve drifted off while sitting at my desk. WAKE UP KATHLEEN WAKE UP!!!!” she screamed to herself. Then, she saw the control panel in the corner. There was a row of little screens with different women wearing head phones lined up above an intricate switchboard. One screen looked familiar, she recognized her empty cubical, and she saw her screen flashing with incoming calls. “Holy shit, I’m going to miss rush hour,…what am I doing? I’m either dreaming or in a whole lot of trouble. I don’t want to end up on the shelves of some intergalactic rental store for blue green perverts!” Kathleen started pushing random buttons.
“Hey!?!? Stop that, don’t you want to meet Tammy?” Kathleen turned and saw her coworker standing next to the strange alien. “Tammy what are you….Never mind we’ve got to go.” She grabbed Tammy’s hand and pulled a lever on the panel. Before she knew it, Kathleen was again standing in her cubical. Tammy shook her head as she realized where she was and smacked Kathleen on her shoulder. “What the hell are you doing? I finally found a way out of this dead end job and a promising career in films. Send me back! I have a scene to finish”
“Tammy, we were kidnapped by an alien who wanted us to perform God only knows what kind of perverted sex acts with…….God only knows what kind of things, for alien pornos, have you lost your mind?”
“No, Gooshden, promised me my own dressing room and $2.00 more on the hour! I want to go back!”
Tammy touched the TV screen and disappeared
“What the….?” Kathleen started, but quickly switched off the TV. She pulled the plug on the DVD player and stepped back for a moment to think.
“Well, she seemed happy, and an extra $2.00 an hour ain't bad…” she mused, “and besides Tammy never really was cut out for third shift work.” Then remembering her calls, she went back to her computer screen to try to salvage her job.
When her boss arrived to relieve her in the morning, she said nothing of her strange adventure, and went home to try to sleep away the insanity of the evening. The next night, when she arrived at work, Tammy was again absent. Phil told her that Tammy had sent an email telling him she had found another job and that a new girl would be in later for her to train to take her place. Before he left for the night, she asked him, “Phil, have we gotten any complaints on Dr. Strangelove’s account?”
“Dr. who?” he asked.
“Strangelove, you know the new psychiatrist account?”
“I don’t know that one? Why? Did you get a prank call last night?”
Kathleen started to tell him about the whole episode, but stopped.
“No, not really, I must have gotten the new clinic’s account mixed up with that old bond movie. Did you get the DVD player fixed?”
“No, I bought you a new one. The old one was melted by the afternoon shift.”
And with that he left Kathleen alone to spend another night on the phones hoping that the only long distance call she received was from another state and not another galaxy.
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dovesland
Guest





Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 1:58 am    Post subject:  

I hope that I did that right...please pardon my use of sexual material, but some of that story came from actual experience.....I used to work as a telephone operator on third shift.....Ive not been abducted, but you give me telephone, good new and bad news and the word burst and my mind hits the gutter every time......I hope you all enjoy it.....

PS, notice the word count I nailed the 1511 word limit on the head.... whoo hooo I love my word processor.......

only thing is, I had to edit out some really good dialoge to make it all fit....oh well, I had to play by the rules....
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Guest
Guest





Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 2:03 am    Post subject:  

Oglasm! Love it! :lol:

Welcome to the linear comp, Dovesland! :cool:
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Shady Stoat
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Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England

Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 2:05 am    Post subject:  

Me, above, 'twas

*rolls eyes at forgetting to log in yet again*
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dovesland
Guest





Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 2:08 am    Post subject:  

thanks I got a little nudge from Lordy to enter the compitition, so I stayed up all night and wrote that one...I had fun...tee hee, now im off to bed.....we will see how it goes....
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 3:03 am    Post subject:  

Smee wrote: Quote: and btw, why are you putting it up? isn't it the linears mods job

The winner last month has the job of putting up the next one.


cheers smee
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dovesland
Guest





Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 1:09 pm    Post subject:  

I hope its ok, but I noticed a few flub ups in my story and fixed them this afternoon.
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Lebrenth
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Joined: 29 Dec 2005
Posts: 1483
Location: Utah

Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 8:18 pm    Post subject:  

8 PM, Jan. 6th, by my clock. That counts right? Here's the story:
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Lebrenth
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Joined: 29 Dec 2005
Posts: 1483
Location: Utah

Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 8:21 pm    Post subject:  

"Some good news and some bad news" by Lebrenth

Rick Sullivan pours himself another drink in the dimly-lit parlor. He's past the stages where he breaks things and collapses into pathetic crying fits, but he just threw Eve's antique hammered-brass table lamp into his 55" high definition plasma screen, so he has nothing better to occupy his time. It ends up this way every night, a little liquor, a little browse through the photo album and a little catharsis, then he becomes zombie without hunger till he passes out. Rick felt like a real man of property before Eve found out how he paid for it all. He had a beautiful wife, a beautiful home, and beautiful big-kid toys like that 2005 Dodge Viper they repossessed this morning. All of it just a desperate attempt to hold on, borrowing more and more till he was so deep he figured he might as well do everyone a favor and bury himself.

Money. If only he had a little more money. It was all about money in Rick Sullivan's life.

He wouldn't have cared, but he is a little surprised when the phone rings. Guess he didn't throw it as hard as he thought.

"Eve?" he says, already knowing that it couldn't be.

"No, honey, its Mother.... Sweetie? I have some bad news." The tears are already welling up again. "It's your brother.... He was in a car accident. Your brother is dead."

Rick picks up the only thing in the house that was never abused, a picture of him with his brother John. It was taken in North Park, at his wedding reception five years ago. They're smiling like kids on summer vacation. A thousand happy memories burst to life whenever he sees that picture. Life used to be so simple.

He lays the picture face down and wonders how his wife is handling this. At least she wasn't hurt... Mother would have said if she wasn't ok. Maybe it would have been better if she went with him, though... they were so in love. Nothing in this world is more certain to Rick than that Celeste would stand beside John no matter what. She built up his confidence when he was hopeless, and helped him start a business that had investors' mouths watering in under a year, always supportive of everything he did.

They were a source of inspiration to Rick, on how life could really be perfect. John would have been the first to help Rick if he ever let anyone know.

In the morning, Rick wakes to the sound of the phone bleeping. He finally hangs it up. He stands with a headache that could sink a cruise liner, and looks around at the damage he's done to his house.

He takes a deep breath and it feels like a thousands pounds of pressure shivers off of him. It's time to clean up. He's had it rough, really rough, but things are going to be better soon. Everything will be better from now on. He's going to do it the right way this time. He picks up a cracked picture of Eve and puts it carefully on the counter, and goes to take a shower.

The door is open and shards of wood tell him that he didn't just leave it that way. Plus whoever it was didn't wipe off his muddy boots when he came in. He follows the tracks into the bedroom, where the intruder managed to make an even bigger mess than Rick. He pulled out the drawers and overturned and cut the mattress open, the closet's contents are scattered, including a certain shoebox that was kept just in case.... Some of the bullets are still there, but the revolver is missing.

He wipes away the sweat on his forehead, and his hand comes away black. He hurries into the broken bathroom and he looks into the mirror. The letters are smudged, but he can read the first four letters: "DEAD"

Deadmeat? Deadbeat? Deadhead? He washes it off as if it burned like acid. His whole house feels poisonous, and whoever it was, he got into everything. Besides the gun, it doesn't seem he took anything... not that there was anything to take anymore. Rick gets dressed quickly, suddenly discovering his wallet and keys were taken from his pockets while he was passed out. He has to get out of this house. Just outside the broken door, he sees a white van parked nearby... one of those white vans so nondescript that they stand out like flies floating in your soup. He doesn't even have enough money for bus fare; he's not getting away, so he acts like he's checking the mail.

The mailbox door is open in just such a way that it looks tampered, and he's not sure he wants to check anymore. He reaches out with his left hand, very slowly.... It doesn't explode, but there's nothing in it and it's probably 11 o'clock by now. There's always something... an ad or something....

He goes back inside and tries to calm down. He's just imagining all of this. He could have just forgot what he did last night... he might have done all of this himself. And that van could just be a van.

Unable to think straight and calm down, he takes a shower anyway, a quick one. The cold water shocks his system, but he's not sure it's helping. He dresses again and goes into the garage. A crowbar may not stop bullets but it's better than nothing.

Pacing back and forth in the parlor, he tries to think through this, trying to decide what to do... who to call. ... Then the phone rings...

He hesitates.... but as the rings pass by, he grows afraid that they'll give up. He answers it and hopes to god it's a friendly voice with good news.

"Mr. Sullivan?" the voice says. He's not sure he recognizes it... maybe it's John's lawyer? "Mr. Sullivan, are you there?"

"Yes... this is Rick Sullivan."

There is a pause.

"How are you this morning?"

"I've been better."

"Yes of course, I understand. My name's George Patterson. I'm your brother's lawyer, and I'll be representing his estate."

"I see."

"Yes.... Mr. Sullivan, are you aware that you bequeathed property in your brother's will?"

"I imagine so. We were very close."

"Then you didn't know he was leaving you control of his company, Sullivan Concepts?"

"Bless him, I had no idea. My god, did he really do that?"

"Yes he did, Mr. Sullivan. It was his last wishes that a Sullivan carry on in his place."

"What about Celeste?"

"John made sure she'd be well taken care of, don't worry about that."

"Just like John to be prepared."

"Yes... Mr. Sullivan?"

"Yes Mr. Patterson?"

"I was wondering if you know anything about a man named Carl Halsey?"

"Halsey? ... No, why?"

Outside by the sliding glass window, Rick sees the edge of an arm, and the butt of a gun.

"He seems to know a lot about you."

"What are you saying?"

A hand reaches for the handle, Rick backs away, edging towards the door.

"You're surrounded, Mr. Sullivan. Don't give them a reason to shoot you."

The line disconnects. Rick drops the phone and runs to the front door, he doesn't make it before two police officers come in with guns drawn.

"Police! Hands up! Face the wall!"

"Rick Sullivan, you're under arrest for the murder of John Sullivan. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say..."

Rick Sullivan is convicted for hiring a hit man to ram his brother's car into oncoming traffic, and the piles of debts he accrued only testify to his greed and desperation. The loaners, including the ones who might break in someone's door and write "deadbeat" on a his forehead, go looking for new victims. Eve faces civil suits for her husbands legitimate loans, and Celeste has to deal with her violent bereavement.

So let me tell you the good news first: John's killer was brought to justice. ... I think it's plain enough what the bad news is.
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Chinaren
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Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2006 9:20 pm    Post subject:  

Woah! Niceley written everyone!

I shall now declare the entry stage closed, and the voting stage open!

Vote away people! It's a tough one this time!! :?

Advert.
Whilst I am here, keep an eye on the experimental forum for the new SoaP comp!
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Shady Stoat
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Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 12:16 am    Post subject:  

LOL!

Now is that the Guild of Evilers standing together or what?

Lordy gets two options - and I get none?

Play fair, guys ;)
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Chinaren
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Joined: 05 Sep 2005
Posts: 8878
Location: https://www.NeilHartleyBooks.com

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 12:38 am    Post subject:  

Crap! Didn't see that! :shock:

I will PM the mod Saxon!

Please hold off voting for now!!
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 7:35 am    Post subject:  

the deadline apparent just got extended by 12 hours therefore

and can we vote now - as i appear just to have one option?
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 12:14 pm    Post subject:  

is there something wrong with the poll?

shady and i appear to both get votes at the same time

i've been watching and they appear to go up together
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Shady Stoat
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Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 12:17 pm    Post subject:  

Weird! I haven't been watching, but I'll take your word for it.

PM Key. He should have the ability to see who's voted for what, and whether there's something strange going on :)
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Key
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Joined: 08 Feb 2004
Posts: 2652
Location: The Royal Palace

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 12:41 pm    Post subject:  

There was definitely a bug in the poll. Not sure how it happened, but votes for either of the last two options were being counted on both of them.

I've deleted the poll. chinaren, can you put it up again and we can restart the voting?
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Shady Stoat
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Joined: 02 Oct 2005
Posts: 2950
Location: England

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 12:43 pm    Post subject:  

Thanks Key :)
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 4:31 pm    Post subject:  

and there was me thinking people had actually like my story
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saxon215
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 5:49 pm    Post subject:  

yeah it took me a damn while of editing to get the rght names into the ploes and everytbhing they kept screwing around, whatever it was i only have one thing to say
i didnt do it (hides behind smee)
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 5:51 pm    Post subject:  

no worries sax - i dont blame you

(my alter-ego however i have no control over)
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saxon215
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Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2006 5:55 pm    Post subject:  

well my alter ego's paranoid pete the pirate, Maverick, Leeroy, that black guy, marvin the psycho, the beast and of coarse Bob (but nobody likes bob) will protect me
"Right guys?"
there was a chorus of halfhearted yesses, some maybies and an i dont trust yee
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Lebrenth
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Joined: 29 Dec 2005
Posts: 1483
Location: Utah

Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2006 1:13 pm    Post subject:  

Since I just can't bring myself to vote on my own story and hope to get away with it, I have to vote for LordoftheNight, for that first class ending.
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Sun Jan 08, 2006 2:59 pm    Post subject:  

wow, someone actually liked it
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Solomon Birch
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Joined: 22 Nov 2005
Posts: 1562
Location: England..... but Japan beckons.....

Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2006 3:49 am    Post subject:  

Well, iv'e read 3 out of the 4 stories, but it wont let me read Lebrenth's at school, so im gonna read it at home then vote. Great stories by the way; tense, funny and..... well, alien po rn, so thats a winner ;)
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Smee
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Joined: 16 Oct 2004
Posts: 5215
Location: UK

Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2006 5:17 am    Post subject:  

Excellent stories guys/gals :D

Tough decision as always, with some newcommers to the Linear Comp.

In the end I voted for Ms Stoat - it seemed to be the most complete story to me, with a great ending.

Happy Writing. :)


*kicks self for another month without entering.*

Must enter next month.
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saxon215
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2006 6:56 am    Post subject:  

woah lordy is doing a good job, i congradulate thee, too bad i can never be stuffed actually reading these
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LordoftheNight
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Joined: 11 Aug 2005
Posts: 5276
Location: Hell

Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2006 11:21 am    Post subject:  

does anybody know when the voting ends?
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