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Bad Fiction Contest!

Entries from May, 1999

Last updated May 30

Beginning in June, the Bad Fiction Contest will on hiatus for an undetermined period of time.

Marie d'Antoinette begins a Horror novel 05/27/99

Beverly, huddled under the bleachers, sniffed back a tear. Kicked off the cheerleading squad! All of her mother's dreams for her, dashed! How could she even go home now?

It wasn't even her fault. After all, was it her fault that she was beautiful? That all the guys on the team wanted her? Oh, if only she hadn't gone into the locker room that day. If only she had remembered her panties. If only they hadn't all lined up and . . . But, none of those things had happened. She had gone in, without her panties, and faced that line of boys. They all had their pleasure. Sure, it felt good at the start but then she remembered her solemn vow to her mother, "I shall never pleasure a man without first having performed the Sacred Ritual first."

Now, here she was, huddling under the bleachers. She wiped her hands on the grass to get the sticky mess off them. All those big strong men against just her. She knew her spell over them must have been strong. Her mind drifted back as she remembered each one of them and how it felt as she had done it. How each of them had dripped and spurted. Yes, she would certainly be kicked off the team now because there was no team. Only a mass of bodies with their heads snuggled in their arms just the way they had carried the football only hours before.

Mama would certainly be angry for Beverly had not performed the consecration rites over the knife before hacking off their heads. She tried to decide which thing to tell Mama first: the cheerleading squad, or the team?

The author comments, "Okay, so I'm a bit warped. hehehehe"

Chris de la Plume begins a Romantic Political SF Mystery novel 05/20/99

Monique, shivering despite the near-tropic heat, contemplated the sleeping man beside her. Was she really now the wife of a Duke who she had never met? Everything had happened so fast since she stepped off of the Pacific Princess...

As she watched him, Vladimir seemed to fade. His handsome Slavonic profile seemed to become indistinct and his fine manly shoulders shrank away before her horrified gaze, leaving nothing but the impression in the sheets where he had lain as a mocking farewell.

Monique sat frozen with terror, as questions chased one another through her mind. What had she done? What dreadful monster was even now growing within her? Why had a ship called the Pacific Princess taken her to the coast of Dalmatia? How would she explain all this to the Duke when she eventually met him?

Slipping into her clothes she hurried out into the sultry Dubrovnik dawn. What a fool she had been! Was it the wine which had let her believe Vladimir when he told her he was the owner of the Palace of Diocletian? She looked back at the mean little house she had just escaped. To think she had persuaded herself that *this* was an imperial mansion! Oh the folly of passion!

"Exscuse me miss." Monique turned at the sound of the quiet New England tones. Teddy Kennedy! But what did it mean?

Was she saved, or was this some new adventure...

Mijnheer begins a novel 05/12/99

I had seen broads like Gia Gondola before - Miami's full of 'em. But when a broad constructed of nothing but legs, attitude and a wide-brimmed hat stalks into your office unannounced and drops a baby alligator on your desk, you sit up and take notice.

The wrinkled green skin and wet leather smell made my nose ache. The alligator wasn't that great either. I asked her where she found it.

"My husband collects them"

She breathed a mangled cocktail of gin and cheap cigarettes. My hunch told me this broad's husband was dead or missing. Or both. She continued. "Some men came looking for my husband soon after he returned from his trip to South America. I think this is what they were after".

"Lady, I have a hard time believing some thugs are showing interest in this deformed tree frog. I'd throw you out on your cute little can, except your stocking tops are showing through that slit in your skirt and it's peaked my interest. Now tell me another bedtime story, and make it interesting enough so's I don't feel the need to belt you and send you on your way. My time is precious."

"Yes, I can tell by your seedy office and slept-in wardrobe that my business is not needed. You must be raking in clients."

I stood up, grabbed her wrist and sent her sprawling all over the dusty couch in my office. I then loomed over her, ready to smack the taste out of her fresh mouth when her eyes opened wide in horror. I felt good putting the fear of God into her, but when I felt the butt of a pistol crack the back of my skull open, I realized it wasn't me she was afraid of. I caught the beginning of her scream as I hit the floor and blacked out.

The author comments, "Man, this is fun!"

Robert Williams continues Rosalinda's Rising Passions 5/2

As for Harriman himself , well suffice it to say that he, having spent some two score years as the unwilling and (so his captors thought) dimwitted guest of a small but(or so he assumed, though in fact he had not actually been privy to anything , shall we say, unnatural) ruthless tribe of savages whose name he could never pronounce, their limited vocabulary consisting, as far as he could tell, of a few rather unpleasant sounds accompanied from time to time by the slapping of ones buttocks and (though he was not absolutely sure, even after all those many years, of its grammatical significance ( he could only assume, as one inevitably followed close upon the other)) by the emitting of, how shall we say, a particularly foul smelling gas which made his captivity nearly unendurable , so how unfortunate then that upon his arrival at his true-loves door his first response should be , not a lovers heart-felt sentiments, but a loud and quite unexpected gaseous outburst.

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