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[Writing Contest] - THE ARENA

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Comments

  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 450 ✭✭Agent Weebley


    I vote for VOAT; less pressure ...


  • Moderators, Arts Moderators Posts: 17,231 Mod ✭✭✭✭Das Kitty


    Okay hcass and Rubecula

    I'm going to get ye going. Your topic is Festival

    700 words

    You can have until 9pm Saturday. :D


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 8,551 ✭✭✭Rubecula


    Das Kitty wrote: »
    Okay hcass and Rubecula

    I'm going to get ye going. Your topic is Festival

    700 words

    You can have until 9pm Saturday. :D

    omg I just realised something, can not remember the 'kin rules be right back


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 8,551 ✭✭✭Rubecula


    here is my entry for the festival arena thingy.

    "Oh my lord" The words came from deep inside the multi coloured and heavily carpeted tent. The small and slight figure sat hunched over a desk made from a few items of luggage, and his gaily coloured outfit was shining and twinkling in the dim light cast by a flickering candle.

    "What the hell is wrong with you now Wormy?" The big waist coated man with his shirt sleeves rolled up to emphasise his size and his strength sniffed almost without care at the smaller man.

    "My name is Vernie, Groucher. " the mild irritation in his eyes was a sure sign that he was near to breaking point.

    "Mr Groucher to you Wormy" The big man spoke gruffly, and anyway you get your act in order or you leave. You have until the show tonight." He stomped out of the tent kicking at a second smallish figure as it entered the tent. The small figure dodged out of the way and a deep blood chilling growl escaped from a four legged figure behind it. Groucher gulped and spun out of the tent in a flurry of shirt tails.

    The second figure ran into the tent and hugged Vernie tightly around the neck. "Oh Vernie what are we to do, he owns the company and he hates us?"

    "Well, I have been thinking about leaving anyway Margy, I want to go out into the wide world. "

    "I think that is impossible, you know the act is no longer bringing people in as it used to, and you are banned from performing in big establishments. Vernie why on earth did you do something so stupid?"

    Vernie sighed deeply it was an old old argument he had been an amazingly good illusionist until he told a newspaper reporter how he did a trick and the next thing he was being held up as an example to all magicians and illusionist of what happens if your idiocy allows you to break the rules.

    "I don't care any more Margy, all I want is to get out of this hell pit. I will find something to do." He sighed deeply one more time. He then stopped and tilte his head as though he had heard something. "What is that?"

    "I have no idea Vernie it sounds like a bit of music, It sounds like your old musical intro to be honest,"

    Vernie agreed and stepping out of the tent he peered around to see what was going on. There was a group of untidy men and women standing around with musical instruments and they were being interviewed by Groucher.

    Groucher was irritated by something, he grabbed at an elderly woman and shook her and told her to get away from him and threw here to one side. He stormed off into his big caravan, which hadn't moved in many years. Vernie, cracked at the sight of this and he ran screaming at the caravan. Kicking open the door he launched himself through the door, Margy and her huge canine companion (Wolfram) Looked on at this sudden display of manly rage from Vernie. After a bull roar from Groucher and Vernie's scream there followed a crashing and rocking of the caravan.

    Vernie came flying out of the door horizontally, his face all battered, and Groucher appeared at the door and snarled through bloodied lips for Vernie to leave.

    Margy and the group of musicians ran over to help Vernie to his feet. Margy was all careful and at the same time motherly , she had never seen him this way before and didn't know what to do . But instead of being furious Vernie was laughing. His face was battered and bruised and he had been given a hiding by Groucher, but he was laughing.

    Margy was unsure what to make of this. Vernie looked at her and winked. Walking away he gestured to the band to follow him and they did, all of them, and the still confused Margy. "What happened Vernie?"

    "Look at this," he smiled at them all, " Groucher was so mad he threw this at me and it is full. It is all our salaries that Groucher has not paid us for years. We can free ourselves."

    "And do what?"

    "We can start our own little town festival"


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 628 ✭✭✭hcass


    Piss Girl.

    The sound of the waterfall was soothing at first but as I turned my face to the warm sun it rushed harder and began to stir me from my slumber. I opened my eyes.

    “Jesus! Keith, Keith, you’re pissing! You’re pissing all over me!”

    He was on his knees, his dick in his hand. Eyes shut, swaying from side to side. I jumped back from the spray of warm urine. It kept on coming. All over my sleeping bag, all over my ruck sack, all over my clothes.

    “Stop! Stop now! You’re pissing all over my stuff!”

    “I’m going the jacks, I’m going the jacks” He mumbled, pushing me back as I tried to hit him.

    And still it flowed. All the beer from last night, every last drop was being emptied from his bladder onto my things. I cried at him, I shouted, I shook him but nothing worked. With the last trickle he collapsed back in a heap, snoring loudly, out cold, in a pool of his own piss.
    Mary was sleeping down the other end of the tent. She rubbed her eyes and looked up.

    “Are you ok?”

    I was sitting up, my mouth wide open in disbelief at what had just happened.

    “I… I …”
    “What? What the f*ck happened?”
    “Keith just pissed all over me!” I shouted, “all over my stuff, everything.”
    “Everything? How did he get everything?”
    “Cos it was like a f*cking river!”
    “Did he get any of my things?” She pulled back her sleeping bag and started to look through her things.
    “No, he only got mine.”
    “Oh thank god.” She smiled then shook her head, “Sorry, that’s sh!t. I can give you a jumper or something.”
    “Yeah, throw me something now will you – he pissed all over this t-shirt I’m wearing. I’m going to get coffee, you want one?”

    I walked out of the tent to a chorus of “Pisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.” A group of lads camping beside us peeled up with laughter. Every motherf*cker in the campsite had been listening to the last ten minutes of my life.

    For the rest of the weekend I was “piss girl” – you think they’d have come up with something more imaginative than that but no, piss girl, it was. And like the smell of urine on my polyester sleeping bag, it stuck.

    “Hey piss girl, get us a breakfast roll while you’re at the food truck.” “Here, piss girl, d’ye have any jacks roll?” “Piss girl, hey you, piss girl, Piss girl!! Give us a baby wipe would ye?” It followed me around like the smell of a festival portaloo. And by that Saturday night, I’d had enough.

    “I’m going home.” I told Mary.
    “What?! Why? You’re gonna miss the best acts.”
    “I’m having a **** time. I’m f*cking hungover and I just want my bed.”
    “Is this because of that piss girl thing?”
    “No… Maybe. Yes.”
    “Is it really that bad?”
    “Yes! It’s ruining everything. I can’t take it anymore.”
    “OK, well, **** it. Why not just try and embrace your piss girl status. I mean, you’re a f*cking hero here. You’re piss girl. That’s gotta be worth something.”
    “Alright piss girl.” Some randomer nodded at me as he passed.
    “See? You’re f*cking famous!”

    I looked around, another lad was pointing me out to his girlfriend, I saw him mouth “That’s her, the piss girl.” And his girlfriend smiled and waved at me.
    I waved back. She shrieked, jumped up and down and ran over to me.

    “Oh my god, piss girl! Can I get a photo with you? I’ll get you a drink.”

    Mary pushed me beside her, taking her phone off her to get the pic. I stood there, looking stupid.

    “Piss girl? That’s you, yeah? You doing photos?” Some other bloke approached us.
    “She is if you get her a drink.” Mary piped. “And maybe a doobey if you have one.” I added.

    He pulled a joint from his pocket.

    “Yeah cool, here ye go.”

    He passed it to me and I threw my arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a nice pic.

    “Altogether now - Cheeeeeese!”


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 628 ✭✭✭hcass


    That's it so I think? A draw. Thanks Rebecula. Man, it's quiet round here. Or is it?

    That was the second time I got Festival as the theme for The Arena. Anyways...

    Anyone want to go again...


  • Moderators, Arts Moderators Posts: 17,231 Mod ✭✭✭✭Das Kitty


    Eager beavers, ye posted very quickly. I thought I’d have plenty of time to wander in and vote. I liked both, but hcass edged it. Cracking dialogue.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 8,551 ✭✭✭Rubecula


    How about a VOAT now?


  • Registered Users Posts: 8 SlicedBread19


    I'm a total noob here so I'm going to lurk until I get a feel for it. But I'd be up for taking part.


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  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 628 ✭✭✭hcass


    I'm here whenever you're ready.


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 149 ✭✭Snowseer


    I’d be in for an Arena Challenge.


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 628 ✭✭✭hcass


    You interested? Want to pick a title/theme?


  • Closed Accounts Posts: 149 ✭✭Snowseer


    Well, Random Word Generator gave me "Relaxation". You want to pick a word too, and we can make that combination into the theme?


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 35,024 ✭✭✭✭Baggly


    If there is a queue to take part, put me in it please :)


  • Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 20,753 ✭✭✭✭beakerjoe


    Ive clicked Pockarooneys signature link and wound up here out of curiosity.

    I must say I'm pleased by what Ive seen.


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