Ha, Petrov’s sending Ratchet and Clank in their rusty chicken
coop-de-ville
french sojourn 9:00am
The fullback in pink stilettos sashayed towards me.
Beta Shy 2:39pm
Like a balloon whipping around the room, my words spray all
over, fast. I want to take them back. Better yet, the full month of December,
cold and lonely even in his arms.
ami 12:36am
These entries weren't quite stories, but were wonderful:
Sarah W 9:24am
Sha'el, Princess of Pixies 9:32am
NotJana 9:50pm
Scott G 11:02pm
And here are the finalists:
k.kellie edwards 9:40am
“Drop that ratchet and turn around slowly, Coop.”
I let it drop. Turn around. “You might want to reconsider, M’am. Unclench your claw and drop that weapon.”
“Claw? That’s precious. Five seconds--start talking. One.”
“Wham.”
“What? Christ, never mind. Two.”
I take a full step back. Don’t want her all over my new suit.
She looks at me cock-eyed. “Three, Coop.”
“Bam.” I smile.
“Four. Nice knowing you, Cooper,” she says.
"Thank you, M'am."
She pulls the trigger.
I flick a bit of flesh off my cuff. Pick up the ratchet.
Time to get back to work.
I let it drop. Turn around. “You might want to reconsider, M’am. Unclench your claw and drop that weapon.”
“Claw? That’s precious. Five seconds--start talking. One.”
“Wham.”
“What? Christ, never mind. Two.”
I take a full step back. Don’t want her all over my new suit.
She looks at me cock-eyed. “Three, Coop.”
“Bam.” I smile.
“Four. Nice knowing you, Cooper,” she says.
"Thank you, M'am."
She pulls the trigger.
I flick a bit of flesh off my cuff. Pick up the ratchet.
Time to get back to work.
Patrick DiOrio 9:58am
Monsters hide in closets, Timmy’s friend confided at school.
Now in the dark of night Timmy lay on his back in bed studying his closet door. Hannibal, his cat, curled beside him.
“We ain’t scared, Hannibal.”
Hannibal meowed softly, stirred.
The closet suddenly burst open. Six full feet of cooped up scaly monster lumbered through.
Timmy grabbed Hannibal, squeezed hard, screamed.
Hannibal sprang. Claws, fangs, flashing. Panic ratcheting—his bite, quick, surgical.
Blood filled Timmy’s mouth.
Monster, gone.
Hannibal running off as Timmy’s mom switched on the light.
“Timmy?”
Timmy mumbled.
“Speak up. What’s wrong, honey? Cat got your tongue?”
Now in the dark of night Timmy lay on his back in bed studying his closet door. Hannibal, his cat, curled beside him.
“We ain’t scared, Hannibal.”
Hannibal meowed softly, stirred.
The closet suddenly burst open. Six full feet of cooped up scaly monster lumbered through.
Timmy grabbed Hannibal, squeezed hard, screamed.
Hannibal sprang. Claws, fangs, flashing. Panic ratcheting—his bite, quick, surgical.
Blood filled Timmy’s mouth.
Monster, gone.
Hannibal running off as Timmy’s mom switched on the light.
“Timmy?”
Timmy mumbled.
“Speak up. What’s wrong, honey? Cat got your tongue?”
T.D. Hart 3:51pm
“Close your eyes, Evie,” the angel says. “I’m here.”
I turn my head. Blink away dripping blood. He’s dazzling, familiar. Blond hair. Dimples. Green eyes brimming with love and untold jokes.
The haze clears.
I’m on my back, alone. Moths dash against the fly-spotted bulb in our chicken coop.
Matty?
My mouth is full of cloth. I gag. Ratchet a breath.
In the doorway, a human monster. Blond hair trails from the claw of his hammer like blood-soaked algae.
“I’m here, babe.” The angel’s breath is like cool water on my cheek.
The hammer lifts, and I close my eyes.
I turn my head. Blink away dripping blood. He’s dazzling, familiar. Blond hair. Dimples. Green eyes brimming with love and untold jokes.
The haze clears.
I’m on my back, alone. Moths dash against the fly-spotted bulb in our chicken coop.
Matty?
My mouth is full of cloth. I gag. Ratchet a breath.
In the doorway, a human monster. Blond hair trails from the claw of his hammer like blood-soaked algae.
“I’m here, babe.” The angel’s breath is like cool water on my cheek.
The hammer lifts, and I close my eyes.
William 4:18pm
“Digger!”
“Yeah Stokes?”
“Look over here. What do you see?”
“I see one of your little rat-claw hands waving at me from under the car.”
“I need the half-inch ratchet. So…I guess you’re still pissed about last night.”
“Because you told everybody I was full of crap about seeing Bigfoot? Nah. Here’s the wrench”
“Good. More cooperation and less harassment will get this job done by lunch.”
“Oh, I’ll be done by lunch alright.”
“That’s the spirit. Now back the car off the lube rack so I can crawl out of here.”
…
“Digger?”
…
“DIGGER!!”
“Yeah Stokes?”
“Look over here. What do you see?”
“I see one of your little rat-claw hands waving at me from under the car.”
“I need the half-inch ratchet. So…I guess you’re still pissed about last night.”
“Because you told everybody I was full of crap about seeing Bigfoot? Nah. Here’s the wrench”
“Good. More cooperation and less harassment will get this job done by lunch.”
“Oh, I’ll be done by lunch alright.”
“That’s the spirit. Now back the car off the lube rack so I can crawl out of here.”
…
“Digger?”
…
“DIGGER!!”
JD Paradise 1:51am
My claws ratcheted, fists in memory.
"Coop." Her back to me, her shoulders hunched. "Ellis. It isn't about the girl."
"You're full of shit."
"It could have happened to anyone."
"It happened to me."
When she turned, tears silvered her porcelain cheeks, chrome gleaming beneath the skin. "They say you're afraid to touch me now."
"They're wrong," I lied.
"Still. They're pulling the plug."
"How long do we have?"
"Soon now."
I had no heart for this. But the need in her . . .
I opened a claw. Stroked her face. Microsensors shuttled and clicked.
The wounds trailed silver. Despite my care.
"Coop." Her back to me, her shoulders hunched. "Ellis. It isn't about the girl."
"You're full of shit."
"It could have happened to anyone."
"It happened to me."
When she turned, tears silvered her porcelain cheeks, chrome gleaming beneath the skin. "They say you're afraid to touch me now."
"They're wrong," I lied.
"Still. They're pulling the plug."
"How long do we have?"
"Soon now."
I had no heart for this. But the need in her . . .
I opened a claw. Stroked her face. Microsensors shuttled and clicked.
The wounds trailed silver. Despite my care.
And the winner of FULL RATCHET by Mike Cooper is JD Paradise 1:51am.
I really liked this entry because the story is what isn't on the page. That's a really hard trick to pull off but done well, as it is here, it's deeply satisfying to read.
Another great example of seeing what isn't on the page is the final scene between Stringer Bell and Avon Barksdale in the balcony scene of season three.
Congratulations JD Paradise. Send me your mailing address and I'll send you your prize!
7 comments:
Okay, given the obvious, it pains me greatly to have missed this contest, but I was out west seeing family I have been separated from for decades, so the sacrifice was worth it.
And . . . there's that little *cough* consideration of how obvious the winner was . . .
Seriously, that is awesome.
Terri
Congrats to the winner! I almost forgot to check back, I've been so caught up in the two-sentence horror stories on io9 the past few days. Some of those are brilliant.
Congratulations, JD Paradise! Loved your entry.
Well done, JD! :)
Way to go, Paradise!
If your novel is full of writing like that, I'd snatch that book off the store shelf and claw my way to the front of the line. Anyone dumb enough to interfere gets a ratchet to the back.
I also really enjoyed Calorie Bombshell's entry.
The creativity of this bunch amazes me.
-T
I really enjoyed the imagery crafted by J.D.Paradise. Put you in the middle of a well established epic feel to it.
Cheers Hank
Thanks, folks! Glad you liked it!
@TD - working on it. :). I'm hoping my WIP is the one (finally) that's going to be worth sending around. We shall see...
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