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Key
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 Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2006 10:14 pm Post subject: |
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| Hmm...another idea, suppose he asks to date Alia. Of course, it's against the rules, but maybe he could convince the producer to bend them....
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2006 10:37 pm Post subject: |
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 That was a suggestion I was preparing to make - thought about it last night.
Good Idea Key.
The show has been all but chaos anyway, I'm sure he could get away with it.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2006 1:02 am Post subject: |
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| Key wrote: | | Hmm...another idea, suppose he asks to date Alia. Of course, it's against the rules, but maybe he could convince the producer to bend them.... |
Wonderful! I love it when people think outside the partition 
Same rules apply as in chapter 8 though (when someone suggested that Larry could try to get both girls at once).
You say he can convince the Producer? Give me a plausible starting point on how and I'll include the option in the poll 
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2006 1:07 am Post subject: |
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I think his best bet is ignoring the producer (and certainly not encouraging him ) and making a dramatic speech to the audience who I'm sure will find it entertaining.
"Fair Alia, when I did but lay eyes on you my heart melted as surely as your date."
Of course he could appeal to the producer on the basis that they have to find another date for Alia anyway - might as well kill two birds with one date and put them together.
Happy Writing. 
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2006 3:26 am Post subject: |
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The producer has a soft spot for Lenny, and I doubt he's going to want to set Lenny up with a date where things might actually work out for him. Bad for the producer, and not as good for the show (I'm sure the producer would rather have the same success that bringing Larry on the show had).
The appeal to the audience might work. Let the crowd sway the decision. It'd be interesting to see the crowd involved like that too.
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 3:01 am Post subject: |
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OK, Key's idea (backed up by Smee) is in the poll. Let me know of any other suggestions before I put the poll up tomorrow.
So far I've got
Contestant 1
Contestant 2
Contestant 3
Plead with the audience for a date with Alia
As 'Declaring vows of priesthood and celibacy' would only get him a quick shot of pink-mist-serum, I don't think I can include it in the options, unless it's backed up with a cunning escape plan of some sort
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 3:35 am Post subject: |
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Don't want the pink-mist serum...poll sounds good to me. 
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| Posted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 4:33 am Post subject: |
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Me too - no more pink-mist. *shudders*
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| Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 6:58 am Post subject: |
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| 3 day poll is up. Enjoy!
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Chinaren
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 7:04 am Post subject: |
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| chinaren wrote: | Voted for the ejaculating carpet. If that is indeed contestant 1.  |
Euwww.... and LOL! (and indeed it is!)
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| Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 7:06 am Post subject: |
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If you think that is horrible, just wait until you see Stoat/Powers' fling in the next ep of GvEvM!!
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| Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 7:12 am Post subject: |
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| chinaren wrote: | | If you think that is horrible, just wait until you see Stoat/Powers' fling in the next ep of GvEvM!! |
I'm sure it will be as bad as only you know how to be, oh master of EVIL
(and I bet they'll deserve each other too!)
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| Posted: Tue Jan 31, 2006 7:06 am Post subject: |
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We have a plea to the audience coming up.
Wooo!
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| Posted: Tue Jan 31, 2006 2:21 pm Post subject: |
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Thinking Outside the Partition…
Lenny shuddered. They all sounded hideous! Even the famed Larry Cludge hadn’t had to put up with an ejaculating carpet, a screeching hellspawn and an eyeless torturer! Well, not all in one show, anyhow. Well, not all in one show where there didn’t even appear to be a good-looking one, anyhow. Well, not all in one show where there didn’t appear to be a good-looking one and he hadn’t been able to wriggle out of it in some other way!
That last though charged to a sudden halt in his brain. His eyes widened.
What if there was a way out?
Gary Fledge reeled. There was no way he was going to survive this one. A scorpion, a medusa and a psychotic cyborg? Brilla had really set him up this time.
It was all about ratings, after all. When the last of his shows had polled 0.02% down on the viewer percentages, it had given Ms. Padd all the excuse she had needed – and she’d never needed much excuse to start with! He was doomed!
Well then, a doomed man had nothing left to fear. He stood up and walked to the front of the stage. The audience watched him like… well… like a bunch of voyeuristic, intergalactic weirdoes, now that you came to mention it. They were fascinated and expectant. More importantly, they were, for once, being quiet and actually listening.
“There’s this girl,” he said, simply. “She’s not one of the contestants. I met her backstage a long time ago. We’ve been trying to get together for months now, but this game-show keeps getting in the way. Every week it’s contestants one, two and three, when all I really want to do is spend a bit of time with the one woman who can make me happy.”
“Err… chuck?” Brilla’s eyes gleamed manically. “You said ‘the one woman’. Does that mean you choose Contestant Number One?” She made a gesture to cue the horrendous theme-music. “Well, let’s take a look at the girls you rej…”
“No, it bloody well does not!” exploded Gary. The theme-music died like the wail of a brutally squashed hedgehog. “I want Xandara. Just Xandara! She’s seen parts of me that nobody else has…” he floundered, flushing crimson, “… I mean, she’s touched me in ways no-one else… Look, I’m begging you – all of you – let me pick my own date. Let it be Xandara!”
He gazed imploringly at the audience, daring to hope…
‘Close Encounters of the Spurred Kind.’ The final book. The one that broke the formula - and incidentally caused the greatest debate among his father’s fan-club. That disappointed collective had found it hard to come to terms with the fact that Larry Cludge would be releasing no more Close Encounters and had spent years wrangling over the rules and whether they should have been allowed in the first place.
Had they been allowed? Had it really happened, or had Dad simply made that part of the story up?
Oh, what the hell! It was hardly a significant risk, considering what lay beyond the partition! He wriggled out from beneath the Producer’s paw and strode to the front of the stage, feigning a confidence he did not feel.
“I choose…” he paused, letting the crowd get interested, “…Alia.”
In less time than it takes than a teenager to turn the music up once the parents have left the house, a triple-pronged screech of objection volleyed forth from the contestants. The audience was hardly any better. They brayed, hooted, stamped and chattered amongst themselves. No doubt the ratings were rocketing at this point. Lenny had to hope so!
He shouted over the din, trying to make his words heard by the audience. At this volume, there was no point in going for quiet honesty, like Gary had. It would have to be no-holds barred romance and hope-to-god it worked!
“Fairest Alia,” he bellowed, waxing full lyrical, “When I did but lay eyes on you my heart melted as surely as your date. His cold exterior was no match for the fire of my passion. If you but give me a chance, I can persuade you to warm to me, and together we can fan the furnace of love.”
He stopped, out of breath and slightly nauseated by the sickliness of his speech. For the first time in his life, he found himself thankful for all those hours of poetry study at school. Even a ghastly metaphor was better than having no words at all – and there was no indignity to which he would refuse to stoop, if it would get him out of dating one of the three regular contestants!
By the sound of it, the audience weren’t specialists in the difference between good oratory and complete and utter slop. They seemed to love it! The cheering and cat-calls were drowning out the objections from beyond the partition. Lenny risked a glance behind him, trying to gauge the Producer’s reactions to all of this.
Incredibly, the wrinkly face was lit up in a smile. Uh-oh! Lenny’s stomach began to twist. If Saggyface was happy about this, it couldn’t be good news at all!
Old Wrinkles beckoned towards the side of the stage and a hovering gremlin emerged. The two of them began to mutter in low voices.
“…highly irregular. It clearly states in the rules…”
“Rules be damned – what about the ratings? We’re sitting on an Idearium Mine here, we’ can’t…”
“…budget for half the series. You can’t be serious…”
“We’ll get triple that if we can keep the viewers. Think about it…”
Lenny reeled. Why was the Producer fighting so hard for his corner? Oh, this was bad! This was very bad indeed. He opened his mouth to tell them that maybe he had changed his mind…
It was too late. They nodded, obviously having agreed between themselves. The Producer turned back to the audience, who immediately fell quiet and leaned in hungrily.
“Well, we do have an unusual case here. What else could we expect from the Son of Larry, eh? Still, in the spirit of true love, and for a very special,” (and here the Producer wrapped a giant arm around Lenny, rather more affectionately than was strictly necessary), “contestant, I think we can make an exception.”
He held up a paw as the protests began anew. “Please! None of our contestants will go home empty-handed. Numbers One, Two and Three – you will each get to pick one of the dates from the four envelopes. It will include an all-expenses paid trip, for you and a partner of your choice, to the place described within. Finally, Lenny and Alia,” (he paused until the round of spontaneous applause had died down), “will get their own special day, in the form of the one remaining prize.”
There was an ‘oooooh’ from the audience that seemed genuinely impressed. Lenny couldn’t see any prompt-cards, so he had to assume the reaction was genuine. At this point, though, he was hardly prepared to trust that anything was as it seemed. Including Alia. Especially Alia!
The contestants seemed to have quieted their objections somewhat. Only a single voice of dissent remained.
“…but we’ll never get the chance to meet Larry Cludge’s son again, I mean it’s not as if a prize like that walks into the show every day, getting a holiday is all very well, but one of us is supposed to end up with the guy on the other side, not some jumped-up little strumpet who’s already gone through…”
“Oh, put a sock in it, sister! It’s not like he would have chosen you anyway. You’ve got about as much charm as a used toilet-brush. Come to think of it, you look like a…”
“Ladies! Ladies!” The Producer’s voice cut through the rising air of hysteria. “If you’re not satisfied with the eventual outcome of the show, all you need to do is go through the correct complaints procedure.”
He paused as the sound of heavy, clunking footsteps sounded from the other side of the partition. As soon as they stopped, he spoke again, his face creasing into a map of wrinkles.
“Now, just state clearly, and for the record, what exactly your complaint is.”
There was silence from the other side of the curtain, broken only by a rather fiendish laugh from Contestant Number Three. Saggyface let it drag out for long seconds.
“Right then,” he said, finally. “That appears to settle it.”
A deep, rasping voice spoke from the other side of the curtain. “Is dat okay den, boss? Should I let da littul hairball down now?”
“By all means,” said Saggyface, pleasantly.
There was the sound of a rather squeaky gasping. The sort of sound made, in fact, by a contestant having the grip around their throat released suddenly. Lenny had the feeling that the complaints procedure was less a procedure than a humungous great troll with arms like tree-trunks and a brain to match. He suddenly had no great urge to make a complaint. At least, not until he was a few thousand light-years from this place. Maybe then. Or maybe not, considering that his last complaint had landed him here!
“Holidays for everyone,” continued the wrinkly giant. “It’s time for you to meet the two… uhh… three contestants that you rejected. Contestant Number One, step out please.”
There was a blasted of theme-music, finely orchestrated for whoopee cushion, pregnant moose and bagpipes that had been stepped on.
Still rubbing at her – its? – throat (presuming there was a throat under that mass of hair), a diminutive creature stepped around the partition. It was just over four feet tall and resembled nothing more than Cousin It seen under the influence of psychedelic drugs.
She (Lenny reluctantly resigned himself to using the female pronoun) was covered in matted, spiky hair from head to foot. No features were visible, other than the ends of the four limbs. Even they were short and stubby, more matching the dimensions of a dwarf than a human. The hair itself was a seething mass of colour. Brilliant green, violent purple and dayglo yellow made it look like the hairy equivalent of a three-day-old bruise. The tip of each hair seemed lighter and filled with static that made it float and wave randomly as she trundled forward.
Lenny got the uncomfortable feeling that he now knew what ‘Zzzizzitt’ would feel like, minus the soft fluffiness. Thoughts of exchanging Alia for Number One disappeared at the thought of being zapped by a thousand tiny electrodes at once. It was not something he would get a buzz out of – if he could possibly avoid it!
Wrinkles put on his presenter’s face again (managing the Brilla smile to the extent that his eyes virtually disappeared and his tooth-count doubled). A small child somewhere in the audience began to wail.
“Flussie Wumpet, congratulations on living through the elimination round of the show. Meet Lenny Cludge.”
A stubby paw came out and grasped Lenny’s hand tightly. It pumped up and down all the time Flussie talked.
“Oh, Mr. Cludge – Lenny – may I just say what an honour it is to meet the son of Larry. A real pleasure – if anything goes wrong with the date – I mean, if you survive the date and you get sick of the little trollop, just give me a call, I’d be more than happy to pick up where she left off, has anyone ever told you you look exactly like your father – only younger, of course, he was getting on a bit by the time he appeared on…”
The Producer had spent his time fruitfully. At his summons, a large, bogey-coloured ogre pounded onto the stage and picked the contestant up by her throat (presumably for the second time in as many speeches). She dangled, hairy feet inches from the floor, making various faint bubbling noises. Random strands of hair zapped ineffectually at the ogre’s slablike arm.
The Producer appeared completely unbothered by this (although the audience were going crazy with approval). He quickly shuffled four envelopes and held them out to Flussie. Lenny watched, unable to decide whether he preferred being in the clutches of Brilla… or this new menace. Perhaps ‘preferred’ was a bad word to choose, he decided. ‘Loathed less’ seemed more appropriate to this situation!
“Pampering, sight-seeing, adventure or theme,” he said in his jolliest voice. Flussie wheezed.
Lenny looked down at the envelopes. Just as they had in his father’s day, each slip had a pictorial representation on it. Three of the pictures remained identical. That much had not changed. The troll massage, the sandbag duel and the erupting volcano. Now, though, they were joined by a silhouette of a figure in a cowboy-hat being crunched in the silhouetted jaws of what looked suspiciously like a T-Rex!
Gulping, he wondered which one the hairball would pick – and what he would be left with at the end of it all!
=======
OK, just to make this absolutely clear, you are deciding on behalf of Flussie, which envelope she is going to pick. Then there'll be two more mini-chapters, with similar choices. I didn't think it would be practical to try and get a consensus on what all the female contestants would do next, so you're getting it in installments.
*grins* Don't blame me - you lot broke the formula!
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Sat Feb 11, 2006 8:21 am; edited 1 time in total
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Tue Jan 31, 2006 4:14 pm Post subject: |
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*giggles*
We broke it. I say Fluffy picks the volcano...she doesn't seem the sandbag or T-Rex type, and I doubt after her feet hit the floor again, that'd she'd be too thrilled being massaged by trolls.
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Tue Jan 31, 2006 5:05 pm Post subject: |
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| I say go for the troll. Nice chance to be waited on and there probally won't be a troll there
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| Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2006 4:44 am Post subject: |
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Most entertaining.
*instantly suspects we'll be left with the T-Rex *
I think - given all the hair etc, that must require lots of looking-after, she'll choose the pampering depicted by the troll.
Happy Writing.
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| Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2006 4:47 am Post subject: |
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| Smee wrote: |
*instantly suspects we'll be left with the T-Rex *
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Isn't that rather up to the readers? 
No evil of my doing, I promise you! *represses evil grin... barely*
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| Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2006 7:33 am Post subject: |
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| I say the volcano...
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Thu Feb 02, 2006 11:25 am Post subject: |
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Since Flussie has been hanging for 2 days now, I thought I'd put up the poll.
Vote now and put her out of her misery
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| Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2006 7:12 am Post subject: |
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Given such a clear majority for 'pampering', I decided to just go ahead and write the next mini-section. Sorry to anyone who didn't get a chance to vote, but I think pretty much all of you did in the end
Coming up...
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| Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2006 7:13 am Post subject: |
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: First One In…
Lenny hardly dared to look. Flussie was swinging like the world’s most wriggly pendulum, making little bubbly noises and crackling with random sparks of electricity.
The Producer seemed oblivious to any of the inherent wrongness of choking a contestant to death in the middle of a televised show. Obviously intergalactic audiences had risen to a much higher level of civilisation than those of poor, backwater Earth. He held the envelopes out in a neat fan-shape, waiting for the fuzzball to choose.
Lenny waited too. He held his breath. He might be okay, as long as she didn’t choose the…
Oh.
His heart sank as a stubby arm jerked out and snatched the ‘Pampering’ option. He’d rather been hoping for that one himself. It may indeed have been possible to kill people with kindness, but it was preferable to killing them with extreme venom. He would have taken his chances!
Flussie was lowered to the ground, where she croaked and rubbed at the area where her throat was buried under mounds of hair.
Meanwhile, the voice-over began its incurably cheerful spiel.
“Flussie Wumpet, you have selected a date for two in one of the galaxy’s most renowned indulgence hot-spots. You and your partner of choice will be flown to the Dessicrean Mud-Pits. There, you will spend a day wallowing in the warm slurries and sludges that make Dessicree so special… and incidentally, so rich. Take in the rejuvenating effects of a bath in Roc guano. Go for that scrubbed and scoured feel as you lower yourself into the pit of dragon-bile. Or simply relax in the luxurious comfort of ten thousand puree-ed missionaries, blended for your maximum satisfaction. You can dine at their special ‘All the mud you can eat’ menu at the famed Sticky’s House of Slops, follow the mountainous mud-trails or visit the museum of mud, for a more full understanding of its origins and history. Thank you for playing… ‘Intergalactic, Inter-dimensional Buh-liiiiiind Date’!”
Flussie was half-led, half-dragged off stage, all the while wheezing and complaining.
“My hair! My beautiful hair! Please – not the mud pits, it’ll take me weeks to re-condition it, I’m allergic to dragon-bile, can’t I change my choice, swap with…”
Her voice faded abruptly – rather as if someone had attempted to hammer her into the floor with a giant grey-green fist, in fact. Lenny and his eardrums were in complete agreement about the relief they felt. Seeing Flussie had only confirmed his opinion that dating her would drive out the last tattered fragments of his remaining sanity.
“Now,” boomed the Producer, “Let’s meet Contestant Number Two. Step out please!”
She made her way around the partition, slinking towards Lenny with hips that seemed impossibly full of swagger. On the way, she bent down to retrieve the remnants of her eyeball from the stage floor. After a quick dusting, to get the grit off, she casually jammed it back into the empty socket of her eye.
Lenny felt the urge to throw up. Even so, his eye took in details that were really not that repulsive. Not that repulsive at all! The creature was a lizard-like humanoid, with scales the colour of pale sand. She was barely an inch taller than him and she had curves in places that no lizard should have curves. The eye seemed to be regenerating and returning to its normal placement and colouration, even as he watched. Within seconds, it was indiscernible from the one that had stayed in its socket. Its slitted nose was surprisingly delicate, lying flat against the protruding upper jawline. Dark crimson lips framed a mouth with narrow fangs and a forked tongue.
She wore nothing but a dress of floaty blue material. It gave the appearance of being see-through, without revealing anything that it should. At the beginning of the show, it had probably looked beautiful. Now it was somewhat dishevelled and torn in one or two places. Still, there was something about this contestant that made even rags work for her.
“Another survivor of the show so far.” The Producer broke the silence. “Anasia Slew, you get one of our fabulous holidays. Which one will it be?”
Anasia ignored the wrinkly giant and instead sauntered right into Lenny’s personal space. Her slitted eyes were unreadable as she gave a sharp-toothed smile.
“Here’s what you could have had, handsome.
Before he could think to react, she had wrapped him in her arms and enveloped his mouth with hers. He struggled and choked as a slitted tongue slipped between his lips and began exploring the interior of his mouth. Then he froze in confusion as it began to change shape in his mouth. He couldn’t be sure – not having had any first-hand experience in the matter – but it was beginning to feel more… well, more human! Despite himself, he began to warm to the experience. His eyes closed. A small grunt of pleasure escaped him as his tongue began to spar with hers. He could feel hands on his back and shoulders, pulling him further into the embrace. The sound of the audience screaming its approval faded into mere background noise, distant and somehow unimportant.
Idly, his eyelids raised again. Mid-kiss, he yelped and leapt backwards so hard that he not only broke the tight embrace, but he almost sprained something.
He stared at the contestant, shocked and panting. Somewhere in that timeless passing of seconds, she had changed form… into the spitting image of his mother, Sandra Cludge!
His face screwed up in disgust. He felt unclean. That was just so wrong in so many ways! He resisted the urge to spit and wipe his mouth on his sleeve.
Contestant Two seemed confused.
“You don’t like shapeshifters, honey?” she asked in a sultry voice. “I could change my form back again, if you prefer? I just assumed you’d enjoy the same type as your father did.”
As Lenny tried to get over his revulsion, the Producer obviously felt it was time to get the program back on track.
“Anasia, you have the choice of three dates,” he said in his rumbling voice. “Flussie has already picked Pampering, so you get to decide between Sight-Seeing, Activity and Theme. What will it be?”
Lenny swallowed nervously as Anasia considered…
Last edited by Shady Stoat on Sat Feb 11, 2006 8:23 am; edited 1 time in total
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2006 7:48 am Post subject: |
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 Very nice
I think she'll go for adventure.
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ethereal_fauna
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| Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2006 10:03 am Post subject: |
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Shape-shifting, huh. I think she'd get a kick out of a themed date. Go for the Theme.
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The maker of a sentence launches out into the infinite and builds a road into Chaos and old Night, and is followed by those who hear him with something of wild, creative delight. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Smee
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| Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2006 11:16 am Post subject: |
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Excellent chapter
I agree, theme definately suits her - but then, would she pick something that she does all the time anyway. She's always involved in some theme.
So it's either Adventure, or Sight-seeing.
For someone who can change to adapt to circumstances, I think she'll be very interested in an Adventure.
Happy Writing.
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The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 2:22 pm Post subject: |
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Since, again, every option has been raised by the readers so far, I've decided to put the poll up again. Mini-chapters take mini-amount of time. It'll return to normal again soon, I promise
3 days - or less if there's a clear majority again.
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jess1561
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| Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 5:17 pm Post subject: |
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| I think she'd go for the theme also... :hm:
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Chinaren
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| Posted: Sat Feb 04, 2006 8:15 pm Post subject: |
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Went for the sandbags, just to be different, then found I wasn't as different as all that.
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Smee
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| Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2006 5:12 am Post subject: |
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Clearly Adventure is what she'd pick
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The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Solomon Birch
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| Posted: Mon Feb 06, 2006 4:32 am Post subject: |
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PHEW! I have finally gotten through! :biggrin: YES!
Great great great (did I say great?) story Stoat, and I made it in time for a poll too!
I F5 Lordy and Fauna and Jess, theme sounds the best option for a shape-changer.
And a lizard pull  ! Hilarious....
Great story Ms. Stoat, I shall follow diligently from now on! :biggrin:  
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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| Posted: Mon Feb 06, 2006 4:34 am Post subject: |
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And..... ZING! I created a tie! Sorry
_________________
"Humankind cannot stand too much reality" - T.S. Elliot
Thesopholis - A Noir Sci-Fi Story - Chapter 8 is up! Read it here
The End of the Voyage - Chapter 9
Shady the Furry Goblin! [Demon's, Satan and Slobadan Milosevic!] - Chapter 3
The Quest for the Legendary Rubber-Duckie! - Chapter 3
One Last Bullet.... Chapter 3
Green Eyes - Chapter 5
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Shady Stoat
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| Posted: Mon Feb 06, 2006 4:55 am Post subject: |
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| Not a tie yet. There's still 21 hours for a new reader to come along, catch up with all the chapters and vote
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