You'll be the death of Kari Dell yet WRITING CONTEST results!

There were some terrific entries in the most recent writing contest, and more than the usual number that really made me wonder about the murderous impulses of my blog readers! Y'all are a scary group of folks!


Herewith the results:

Special recognition for particularly great line or lines:

Sam Bohrman 9:54am

A woman had called dispatch to say she’d fallen in a plot hole.

Pat Diorio 10:34am

Scarletti grabs two cod, swings. A solid codswallop to the head.

Preston 11:10am

“Do they plot murder? Are they…ninja sheep?”

Sean Breves 11:50am

Perched on Kane’s rosebud, I knew it was stupid

Carolynnwith2Ns 12:00pm

To plot is human, to kill divine, or so the saying goes.

Carolynnwith2Ns12:00pm again!

I am the direction-maker of the sheep.

Special recognition for great word coinage!

R.T. Freeman 10:00am

Sheepswallop!

Special recognition for something you don't see every day

Suzanne 10:22am

a deranged killer wielding a pineapple-shaped lamp.

These weren't exactly stories, but they were compelling!

k.kellie edwards 10:22am

Ignoring their precocity? Declaring their ideas ‘ovine coddswallop’?! ‘Tis the final straw and so, they hatch a plot to kill her in the dell. . .

Knowing full well she sups at three, they slip a bomb inside a slice of brie and hide it in her pail beneath the crusted loaf and ale. Then, patiently (with bated breath), the sheep await her certain death: she’ll lift the cheese and BAM! be blown to pieces, thank you very much! (Which demonstrates the folly of ignoring bleats and mews and such. . .)

frenchsojourn 1:48pm

“Gorblimey!”
“Why would God do that, Ciril?”
“We gotta kill this bird, Kari Dell; verbally?”
“You erd em.”
“She in the nutter?”
“Nah, next plot over, the Sheep Rodeo Palace.”
“Ropey name for a fancy hotel.”
“Ciril, you thinking they shoulda called you first?”
“For what?”
“Namin’ it, you tosser. You look manky, I’ll go in.”
“At least I don’t smell like bait.”
“Zip it Ciril, it was part of the initiation.”
“Churlish prat!”
“Don’t botch this job, and you’re in too.”
“Slapped in the puss with a mackerel?”
“Codswallopped , you twit.”
“Where is she?”
“We said Monday, right?”

Mike 7:21pm

Who killed Kari Dell
Who killed Kari Dell
Codswallop dilly dollup
Who killed Kari Dell

With words they took her life
With words they took her life
Codswallop dilly dollup
With words they took her life

They sheared her like a sheep
They sheared her like a sheep
Codswallop dilly dollup
They got her in her sleep

It was such a dumb ass plot
It was such a dumb ass plot
Codswallop dilly dollup
It was such a dumb ass plot

So why kill Kari Dell
So why kill Kari Dell
Codswallop dilly dollup
Janet Reid will never tell

Rio 5:57am

 Get home before dusk, adults always told her. This here is a dangerous place. The shadows will trick you, the wolves plot to kill you, the night things will drag you away.

Then a soft-spoken man with sheepish brown eyes convinced her that all was a lie. Codswallop, he called it, just fear of the dark, and stories that swelled over time.

So she wandered one day as she made her way home. She sneaked to the boulders to play. She skipped down the hillside ten seconds past sunset and reached the dell's edge two minutes too late.

Special recognition for the joke that took me longest to figure out

Stephen Spain 12:09

"Jan Galeos"

Special recognition for a lovely turn of phrase

Nathan Parsell 10:23am
"borrowed door."

Kim Van Sickler 10:36am

"serial killjoy"

Special recognition to entries that are great starts to something I'd be too scared to actually read

Christi McEntyre 1:03pm

Mary 2:21pm

Ashley Whitt 3:23pm

Special Recognition for the meta-entry that's actually pretty wonderful

Unknown (who is really Tom Bentley) 7:34pm

Special recognition for subtlety!

Donnaeverhart.com 10:07pm

Here are the six finalists

Christine 9:56am

“Holy crapola,” Billy ripped the binoculars from my hands, nearly beheading me with the strap. “That ain’t no farmer in the dell.”

I stared. A fluffy white beast had strolled onto our plot of grass. “What’s that stupid sheep doing? He’ll ruin everything.”

Billy paled. “It’s a warnin’. When sheep come to the valley, someone’s gonna die.”

“Codswallop!” I huffed with laughter. “That old ram couldn’t kill a blade of grass. You’ve got some imagination.”

Billy shook a finger at me. “I’m telling ya. When the sheep come…”

Something pricked my neck.

“Should’ve listened,” Billy said.

Pat Diorio 10:34am

The deli bell tinkles as Scarletti steps inside, closes the door, pulls the shade.

End of day. No customers. As planned.

“Where’s my vig?” Scarletti asks.

“You should wish,” Luca, the owner, says coming around the counter. “I ain’t payin’. Fuck you.”

Scarletti grabs two cod, swings. A solid codswallop to the head. Stuns Luca.

Scarletti’s gun hard against Luca’s forehead.

“Don’t kill me. I’ll pay.”

“Too late.”

Scarletti‘s secret plot, an abandoned sheep dell with a played out well. Dumps the body down it. Tosses in the fish.

“My wish? Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes.” 

Dara Warren 10:34am

 The plot of land isn’t remarkable, as far as plots go, but it’s mine. That sonofabitch tried to kill my claim with fancy talk. And all those sheep at the courthouse taking his side, that codswallop about “ambiguous boundaries.” For what? Some dog food manufacturing plant. I heard them laughing, singing that old nursery rhyme behind my back.

I broke from digging and squatted beneath the valley’s Red Maple. My dog’s gotta eat too, I thought, grinning. And the leftovers… well, who’s the farmer in the dell now, *sshole? Who’s the farmer in the dell now?

Amy Schaefer 4:07pm

Afore the kill switch quit shriekin’, I was up the loft. Mama’s hand grabbed empty air behind my neck.

“Barnaby Jenkins,” she bellowed, kickin’ at the shearing gizmo. “I’m a-gonna drag you down the dell n’ set you in the family plot!”

“’Twere just sheep,” I grinned. Or now, fancy poodle-sheep.

“Codswallop, boy.” Paw-paw stumped through the door, face red, eyebrows AWOL. I’d poached them hairy grey caterpillars so sly, I felt like Jesse James.

Paw-paw raised his stick, poked me out them rafters like a rat and nicked off my brows, one-two.

Reckon they forgot ‘bout school pictures tomorrow. 

JaredNGarrett 11:30pm

She sat, sharpening her beak, ignoring the smug rooster and his garish vocal cords. As morning warmed into afternoon, she glared at the window of the farmhouse kitchen. All in a moment, her plot finished hatching and she descended to the coop floor.

Bright sun greeted her. The dell, rimmed with jagged clusters of trees, reminded her of all of her stolen offspring, their shells jagged and dripping with murdered embryos. She approached the farmhouse, avoiding the too-loyal sheep. No alerts. No warning.

No more of this egg-stealing codswallop.

It was time to kill the farmer in the dell.

Philip Heckman 1:45am

Hazel and I had a "12-step-commedia dell'arte" kind of relationship. Our respective sex addictions repeatedly threatened to kill our marriage, but we always managed to dance away from the yawning cemetery plot of divorce.

Unfortunately, my latest infidelity involved her sister. To keep the scene from getting ugly, I suggested that we reconcile in public, over mutton at a local restaurant.

Hazel ordered for me, animelles, the sheep du jour. But when the codswallop arrived, and she handed me my noix dans un sac, I got the message: ironing out the wrinkles wouldn't be so easy this time.

The winner of the Kari Dell Writing Contest is 

JaredNGarrett 11:30pm

This was a VERY tough call. It required several reads and a second cup of coffee to decide but in the end I had to recognize the bravery of writing from the POV of a hen. "Fancy poodle-sheep" was a damn close second I gotta tell ya.

Jared, if you'll email me with your mailing address and an idea of books you like or want to read, we'll send you your prize!

Congratulations to everyone who entered. I'd almost forgotten how much fun this is!