Writing Exercise Results . . .

are in the posts below. The task was to write something inspired by the cartoon to the right.

Mysterious Package 3

But EE couldn't wait. He had to know what was in the package. He tore off the wrapping as Mrs. V dove behind his desk. Inside was a time bomb. EE calmly threw a chair through the window, then tossed the bomb after it, into the crowded street thirty stories below. It exploded on impact. EE looked down and saw thousands of bloody corpses strewn about.

"This is about your Christmas bonus--or lack thereof--isn't it?" he said.

"Actually," Mrs V replied, "I had no idea what was in the box. I was re-gifting."

"Re-gifting? Who sent it to you? Osama bin Laden?"

"No, George Clooney. He must be mad at me for always calling out your name when we're going at it in the sack."

--Evil Editor

Mysterious Package 2

EE took the package, promised he would open it on Christmas, and thanked Mrs. V. He didn't want to seem ungrateful with this much mistletoe around--she was in a prime position to poison his coffee with it.

As she released the package, she said, “Well, it won't matter, really. If you don't open it, it'll open itself by the end of the year.” A flirty smile twitched on her lips and she was gone, taking her new pencil sharpener with her (EE had picked it up on the way to work, wrapped it in the cash register receipt--with all those colorful ads on the back it seemed environmentally prudent not to waste the paper and ink--and used a bit of mint-flavored dental floss to tie it up and make a bow; he shuddered at all this niceness, but he had to do his bit to keep his ass out of hell another year).

He put the lonely package under the cactus-promoted-to-Christmas-tree that Mrs. V had given him last year. He didn't have a real tree. Actually, he didn't have a house. He slept on the copy machine, which was always warm, and wrote it off on his taxes.

Christmas day found E in a haze of drug-induced manuscripts. He was just putting another manuscript on the fire when he heard a soft rustling sound. Ok, which minion had sent him a snake? Whirl? But no! It was coming from Mrs. V's package!

He armed himself with a stapler, tore open the paper and... Bunny slippers? Bunny slippers. And they were wiggling, sniffing the air, eying his cactus hungrily. EE poked one of them. It squeaked. That did it. EE headed to the copy machine to sleep it off.

When EE woke, he scanned the room for the slippers. Nowhere to be seen. He eased off the machine, and nearly jumped through the ceiling the moment he touched the floor--both feet squeaked. The slippers were on his feet. What the?! He kicked his feet frantically trying to get the bunnies off. He bent over to pull them off, but only made it as far as his knees. Ok. Coffee. Coffee made most things better. He made a pot and sat in his favorite rejecting chair with his fluffy feet propped on the footstool, and pulled up a stack of bad writing.

EE was halfway through the pile when his feet started to tingle. He watched in disbelief as his bunny slippers began to crumble, a few tiny fragments at first and then swarms, crawling toward the slushpile. Could it be? Yes!

Were-termites!

Good ol' Mrs. V. He raised his glass to her, as he watched the slush being chewed into sawdust.

--Mother (Re)produces

Mysterious Package 1

Twas the night before Christmas and what do I see,
My girlfriend is handing a package to me,
It's not what you're thinking,
It wasn't red, green or sparkly bright silver,
Twas brownish and lumpy and smelled kind of (that word doesn't rhyme),
Her eyes, how they twinkled, Her boobs how they squiggled,
Each flouncing and jouncing releasing tiny new temblors.
Her poofy lips, all lusciously red, spoke softly and gently and filled up my head,
She said don't open it, at least not today,
Then she ran out to the lawn and sputtered away,
Faster than eagles and quick as a termite,
In a red, jacked up beamer with cobalt blue flames and the number 7.
I puzzled and mused from the porch to the lawn,
What could this gift, this missive of brown,
What could possibly be concealed inside?
A Dalek? A Fembot? A live Jar Jar Binks?
My mind was a jumble of nixed metaphors,
My fingers, a fumble of not opening before,
A then in a twinkling I had such a flash,
My brain lit up three blocks of the city at last,
With a wink of my eye and a swish of my wrist,
I opened the package, and stood right aghast,
More dastardly than dog poo,
More ig...no...minious than whoopee cushions,
All roundish like dog's bollocks and squishy like jelly,
It's beating...
That brings back the words of men wiser than me,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all...

--Dave F.

Saturday Film Series

Christmas!

The 2nd Biennial Christmas Guess the Plot Quiz

Christmas comes once a year, but it comes more often than that in fake plots. One of the plots below, however, turned out to be the actual plot of a minion's novel. Which one?

1. They were ratty, they were torn, they were holey ghosts. But now, thanks to a little help from the Spirit of Christmas Past, they're getting it all together. Demons better watch out - its the all new . . . Unholy Ghosts.

2. A guy who pees on her boots. A porn-obsessed crybaby. A cheese thief. Sofia always seems to end up with losers. Her latest boyfriend has just given her her Christmas present: a crummy loaf of bread! Is this the final straw? Or is this what she gets for moving to LA?

3. Something sinister is afoot when the insurance office does its Secret Santa drawing and everyone draws Lucretia's name. Lucretia gets 35 gifts -- and a bullet in the head. Only mailroom boy Clark Cooper can both solve the mystery and deal with the Returns office at Macy's.

4. Sunol, California, 1998. Jeff Dunley and Mark Morris are engaged in an all-out, take-no-prisoners, no-holds-barred war between their rival Christmas Tree farms.

5. When Santa's henchmen get tipsy on grog left beside the tree on Christmas Eve and end up busted for burglary, they soon realize the only way to survive incarceration is to form their own gang. They can't be "elves" any more. So they pierce their substantial pointy ears and swagger around, calling themselves the Holiday Lords.

6. Tina is beginning to hate Christmas. Every year it's the same two weeks of stress-inducing hell. Her family, in-laws, her family, in-laws. That is, until she finds out that she's married into the richest, most powerful group of witches and warlocks in the country. Can Tina convince them to halt their assault on the holidays and just relax already?

7. Christmastime, gentle snow falls, merry Santas, bludgeoned girls whose hair falls over their crushed skulls like strands of silver . . . it's just another day for Rudolph.

8. Secret Santa is all fun and games, until Hayley opens her package and finds a human hand. Should she report it to the cops or investigate herself? How hard can it be to spot someone who's missing a hand?

9. When Santa and the reindeer crash on Christmas Eve, all the cavemen are excited about the sudden abundance of free food. Mugoo fires up the barbeque while Santa searches the snow for his broken time turner so he can get back to the right century and save Christmas. Plus, seven angry elves.



Answer below.



Click the label at the bottom of the post to check out the previous Christmas Guess the Plot Quiz.




The real plot was #2

2009 Face-Lift Award Ballot

This is where you get to vote for Evil Editor's best work. Choose your three favorites. Rank them 1st, 2nd or 3rd. The query doesn't matter, just the critique. Humor is the main criteria.

Azrael's Curse

Cosmo

Spats, Traps, and Possum Fur Hats

Don't Forget the Death Ray

Hybreed Rising

Resonance



Click here to vote.

2009 Cartoon Award Ballot

I gotta start doing cartoon awards quarterly. There were dozens of great ones. However, to make your job easier, I've narrowed the choices to the six below. Keep in mind that unlike most cartoons, the drawing was done before the caption was written; sometimes the humor lies in the caption writer's twisted mind.

We Three Kings

Watching TV

Art Gallery

Refreshment Dispenser

Angel

Good Vs. Evil

Click here to vote.

2009 New Beginning Award Ballot

Each year we honor the best work of our continuation writers. There were about 120 New Beginnings to choose from, which I narrowed down to 15 I thought were worthy. Then I cut the field to five. The nominees are below.

A good continuation should give the opening an unexpected twist and should be funny, and should maintain the opening author's style. You're voting for your favorite continuations; the opening shouldn't have any bearing on your vote. Neither should the author, which is why I've temporarily removed the credits. Vote for your three favorites, assigning them 1st place, 2nd place and 3rd place positions.

Lord Verenth

Job Chart

Slubka

As You Know, Bob

Train Wreck



Click here to vote.

Face-Lift 712

Guess the Plot

I Am the Tempted

1. As she celebrates her 42nd dry day, Abby Foster finds that bottle she hid in a boot long ago -- and it's half full! Next, she realizes it would be much easier to drop out of law school and join the army so she goes to surprise her old squeeze Josh, and ask what Afghanistan's really like, but then she discovers an urgent need to kill that vile thing, Samantha, who's skulking round his apartment.

2. Fat guy. Enter: milkshake.

3. Kaitlin's relationship with Jessey started out great, but then she met "bad boy" Tim. Is the temptation too great to withstand? She'll have to decide later, having just learned that a demon-possessed theologian is crossing the country, hell-bent on killing her.

4. Confessions of a retired politician, including the reasons he dallied in the men's room and with various ladies, his long-suffering marriage, pact with GOD, target-practice injuries, bankruptcy issues, trouble with alien domestic helpers, and efforts to take over the world.

5. Jerry Filbergast's memoir, with complete details of his saintliness, dedication to Bible-reading, and remarkable ability to say NO THANKS to wayward girls, strangers offering miraculous substances, and mortgage brokers.

6. Chocolate, ice cream, triple cheese pizza? Bah! One thing keeps Joanne Bingham going; donuts. A rarity since the invasion of the Twigites and the subsequent sugar rationing, she will do anything for donuts. Lie. Cheat. Even write. A post-apocalyptic baking industry satire. Also, an Evil Editor.

7. Jill Sykes opened what she thought would be a struggling bakery for the first few years of operation, but everyone fell for the temptation of her doughnuts, cookies and biscuits in an eerie, almost supernatural way. Is it Jill's special recipe, or the fact that Demeter, goddess of grain, has taken up residence in the basement?

8. Eve Lundt, a chocoholic who works at a chocolate factory, starts a support group for winning over temptation. Three shopaholics, two thrillseekers, and one vampire later she's a blood-sucking spendthrift sky diver. In a last-ditch effort to develop self-discipline, Eve's group joins a Tibetan monestery.

9. The long-awaited memoirs of Cardinal Diarmuid Flanagan O'Murphy, in which he gives his personal views on matters of sin and repentance, and also explains that those altar boys knew exactly what they were doing, oh yes, they led him on, all 1,213 of them.



Original Version

Dear EE and Minions,

After a series of terrifying experiences with her possessed theology teacher, Kaitlin Loeffler is expelled from St. Clement High School and sent to live with her father in a tiny Montanan town. [If I'm having terrifying experiences with a possessed theology teacher, you don't need to expel me. I'm gone.] [Now that I think about it, if I'm a high school student and I somehow landed in a theology class, I'm gone whether the teacher is possessed or not.] She wants her new life to be different: free from the guilt and pain of losing her best friend, free from her ability to see demons and their terrible influence on those around her, even free from her guardian angel, the one who gave her the ability in the first place. [The one who stood by doing nothing while Kaitlin had terrifying experiences with a possessed theology teacher. Good riddance.] She wants to be normal. She wants to fit in.

Jessey, a handsome boy in her physics class, [They don't teach physics in Montana. Change that to cow tipping.] invites Kaitlin to a study session and she is introduced to Tim, his wild, rebellious younger brother. Her relationship with Jessey is off to a promising start and she is enjoying a small taste of a normal life. All of this comes crashing down when Kaitlin’s guardian angel arrives and tells her she has chosen the wrong brother. [Has this guardian angel earned his wings yet? He sounds like a loser.] [Also, "comes crashing down" is pretty strong words to describe something that doesn't seem like a big deal. It's not like the guardian angel told her Jessey was a possessed physics student.]

Kaitlin is determined to prove her guardian wrong, although Tim’s bad boy attitude is alluring. Her guardian angel leaves her [This guy's pathetic. He reminds me of a waiter I had a few nights ago, doting over his big table and ignoring the fact that I might want a bit more fresh pepper on my soup. (I didn't, but that's not the point.)] [Do guardian angels even have more than one table?] and as a result, Kaitlin can not only see the demons whispering, [She was already able to see demons.] but becomes the object of those whisperings herself. Against her better judgement, [In Montana, that's spelled "judgment."] she befriends Tim, and is quickly overwhelmed by his charming personality. Kaitlin can’t seem to hide anything from him, which is problematic, because she is trying desperately to keep her ability secret. [Go ahead and blab, Kate. It's not like he'll believe you if you declare that you can see demons.]

Life seems to be setting into a comfortable routine for Kaitlin. [That wasn't the impression I was getting.] Even this is shattered. Kaitlin’s guardian returns with a warning: the possessed teacher is halfway to Montana, and hell-bent on killing her. ["Shattered" is pretty mild words to describe something as terrifying as a homicidal possessed theology teacher stalking you.] As she prepares to face her demon, literally, her relationships with Jessey and Tim crumble and she must find the strength to confront the demon alone to save his future victims without becoming one herself. [You'd think a guardian angel could be more useful than to just announce, "Oh, by the way, a possessed theology teacher is on his way, planning to kill you." Can't the angel cause the possessed theology teacher's car to go over a cliff?]

I am the Tempted is a YA Paranormal novel complete at 80,000 words. Full manuscript available upon request.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,


Notes

Now that Kaitlin is in Montana, why does the possessed theology teacher want to kill her? She's not bothering him. There are demons in Montana who can kill her if she's a threat to demonkind.

I'd go with Montana town, not Montanan. And Jesse.

Has Kaitlin mentioned to her guardian angel that she'd like to return her demon-seeing gift?

Writing Exercise

Write something inspired by the cartoon below.

I know most of you are busy this time of year, but remember, there's no minimum word rule, just a maximum (300).

Deadline: Sunday, 10 AM eastern.

Cartoon 543

Caption: anon.

Your caption on the next cartoon! Link in sidebar.

New Beginning 715

Teresa was already sitting at a table near the bar, a bottle of wine and two glasses in front of her. Carrie cursed and dashed forward. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

"As long as you have a good excuse."

"I was on my way here and I saw these sandals, well..." Carrie pulled open her shopping bag and pulled out a pair of 4-inch heels, ivory leather with a peep toe and lace-up front. "Come on, tell me honestly, have you ever seen such gorgeous shoes? I just had to have them."

Teresa rolled her eyes. "There's only one thing that looks good in white and that's wine. Have some." She filled her friend's glass.

"They are off-white. Cream. Almost beige." Carrie left the shoes on the table and slumped into the chair.

"White stilleto heels. I thought you wanted men to love you for your brains!"

"At this point, I'll take what I can get. Anyway, I told you about Scott."

"The guy you met at the singles' bar, right?" Teresa snorted. "I don't know why you do it. It's like every Christmas, you get into some sort of funk and pick up some random guy in some trashy club you wouldn't be seen dead in the rest of the year. He gets laid for New Year's and then cuts out just in time for Valentine's because he's too cheap to even buy you flowers."

"Bingo!" Everyone groaned as Madison waved her card in the air. "Wine, shoes, sassy friend, and bad taste in men. That's bingo."

"Congratulations!" Susan said, handing over the bottle of wine that was the evening's first prize. "That's our first-ever bingo on page 1!" She closed the book and opened another. "On to the next book: The Knitting Circle Murders."

Everyone in the crowded room exchanged their "chick lit" cards for "cozy mystery". Susan beamed as she cleared her throat and started reading again. No doubt about it, Book Club Bingo was a hit!


Opening: Sylvia Spruck Wrigley.....Continuation: Sarah from Hawthorne

Serial Killers!

The Second Triennial Serial Killer Guess the Plot Quiz

You wouldn't want to meet one in real life, but serial killers turn up in fake plots every so often. Real plots too: Five of the following plots turned out to be the actual plots of minions' novels. Which ones?

1. Combining the studies of Vlad Dracul, Jack the Ripper, Billy the Kid, Ted Bundy and Seung Hui Cho, The Academy analyzed the most violent of killers throughout the centuries and created the newest breed of serial killers. But can they also create the profilers to stop them? Game on.

2. A decade after the death of his wife in a tragic sculling incident, border patrolman Clint Fujimaki still believes she was murdered. The serial killer known as "The Drowner" hasn't sunk a victim in years, but when illegals begin bobbing up in the Rio Grande, Fujimaki has a sinking feeling that his wife's murderer has returned.

3. It sucks being named Jane Doe. It doesn't help that she's quiet as a church mouse at the morgue, where she works. It also doesn't help that she dresses like a homeless woman, especially when a serial killer starts murdering homeless women around the city. Police think she's the next Jane Doe to die. Can Jane develop some fashion sense before it's too late?

4. When the Herald goes out of business, it has a bigger effect on Sunnydale than just a couple hundred lost jobs, especially when a serial killer begins stalking the residents, and no one can get up-to-date news or check the obituaries to see who the most recent victim was.

5. Who is killing the homeless? I'm Addy. I run the shelter, and I've fallen for one of the homeless guys, but that's the least of my problems. The cops think I'm the obsessed serial killer behind all the grisly murders committed lately, here on . . . Harper Street.

6. When Jasmine has a psychic vision of her rival Marissa dying at the hands of a serial killer, she's tempted to say nothing, but eventually she tells hunky police detective Eric. Now Jasmine's having visions that indicate she should have kept her mouth shut. Has she become the killer's next target?

7. Hanna Murphy, author of the scandalous I NEED A MAN RIGHT NOW! blog, disappears and everyone assumes a serial killer was responsible, but Inspector Joyce Raines realizes there's a paranormal air-sucking hole in the Murphy plumbing -- just as she, too, is transported through it to a swampy time-space warp full of evil wizards.

8. A series of bizarre deaths--someone drowns in a pile of barley, someone has a fatal encounter with a dishwasher, etc.--has the police thinking accidents, but one psychologist realizes there's a serial killer on the loose, one he might be able to lead down the rocky path to . . . Redemption.

9. When the letters U and I turn up missing from alphabet soup cans at crime scenes, homicide detective Zack Martinez knows two things: he's on the trail of a kleptomaniac serial killer who was traumatized by a childhood word guessing game; and he'd better remember to pick up his wife's Andy Warhol comforter from Hang's Dry Cleaning.

10. Burned out after twenty years of white collar work, a yuppie quits his job and moves to a farm in Wales, where he finds peace and takes up a new hobby: torturing and slaughtering people in his . . . Chicken Shed.

11. Convicted of sixteen murders by the age of thirteen, the world's youngest serial killer, waits on death row. And if you think Mendelve's daughter Sarah was bad, wait'll I tell you about Mendelve.

12. With a brutal serial killer holding him hostage and his life depending on a game, it's not the best time for Mason to discover he lost some of the Scrabble tiles.

13. When Liz starts getting daily love letters from a complete stranger, she's flattered . . . until she reads a newspaper article about a serial killer known as The Correspondent.

14. Matchmaker Penelope Thurgood never meant to hurt anyone - it wasn't her fault that she set people up with serial killers. But now they're all dead and Penelope is scared to set anyone else up . . . until the police bring her in to help catch a new serial murderer. Will she find him before he finds her?

15. The sign on the door on the right says "ordino." The other door reads "ourtodo." The sign above both announces "Anagram Club." Lily and Nick are the only ones to know who serial killer "The Puzzler" really is. Can they solve the clues and find him... beyond Ordino?

16. Sentenced to dig trenches from dusk till dawn, serial killer Joe Ogilvie figures he's gotten off easy--until he learns his sentence will be served at the south pole, where one night lasts six months.

17. The other kids teased Omnipuplotto Smirnichovich every day of first grade and he cried so much it ruined his entire life. For second grade, his parents shorten his name to Omn Smir, but the damage is done. He goes on to become The Sobbing Serial Killer.

18. He wanted to be America's newest serial killer, but he needed an angle. It came to him one night in Santa Monica. Four hours later, Oliver Stone, Sharon Stone and "Stone" Phillips were chalk lines on the pavement.


Answers below



Click the label at the bottom of the post to take the previous serial killer GTP quiz.


Actual Plots:
5, 6, 8, 10, 11

Cartoon 542

Caption: Anon.

Your caption on the next cartoon! Link in sidebar.

Face-Lift 711

Guess the Plot

How to Kiss a Ghost

1. Step 1: Tilt your head to keep the scruff from tickling your chin. Step 2: No tongue unless you want to get kicked. Step 3: Lots and lots of breath mints. What? Oh, I thought you said "Goat".

2. First you have to die, no faking. Next you have to make sure you're on the same wavelength as your non-corporeal other. Ignore all the spectators. Are you sure you wouldn't rather just go for someone normal?

3. Find a really, really hot guy, and accidentally run over him. Then get a Ouija board and pucker up.

4. Elsie falls in love with a guy who exists in her mirror. Is he a ghost? Was he trapped there by a witch's spell? Would it look weird if someone saw her kissing the mirror?

5. Jack and Bertha run a B & B in Wyoming which is on the brink of collapse until they start running seminars on the secrets of 'love beyond the grave'. Hilarity ensues when spoil-sport Tammy Hillburg attends undercover as a 'widow' to make a documentary film exposing the fakery.

6. Being dead has its advantages for Greg, but sex with your lover isn't one--especially when she's still alive. So to help others overcome this obstacle, Greg and Sally sit down together to write their first self-help book.

7. When Claire Wincefield's husband died in a freak yachting accident on their honeymoon, her friends told her to put it behind her. But Claire is made of sterner stuff; now, with the help of unconventional psychic Cassiopeia Milestone, she's planning to put the romance back into necromancy.

8. Film star Ellen Lauder must appear to carry on an entire 'romance' with her CGI co-star, who will be supplied in post-production. Meanwhile no one is there. She finds this impossible until the ghost of Sidney Jackson appears. And then she gets fired for being 'too X-rated' -- but now the ghost won't leave!


Original Version

Dear Agent,

In my 60,000-word YA Paranormal romance, HOW TO KISS A GHOST, seventeen-year-old Elsie can see him, she can hear him, but she can't touch him or can she? [One thing's for sure: she can smell him. How long's he been dead?] [Put a dash or an ellipsis after "touch him."]

Elsie doesn’t remember being pushed into oncoming traffic by a drunk driver, getting broadsided by Aiden Prescott’s BMW, [Could you diagram that accident for me?] or even dying and returning to life with a gift for seeing ghosts. All she knows is her sister is dead and she should be dead too. [What makes her think she should be dead too, if she doesn't even remember the accident?] To escape the pain, Elsie attempts to overdose, [Elsie had nothing to do with her sister's death, right?] but a ghostly boy appears in the mirror as the bottle touches her lips, freaking her out at first, [When you look in a mirror and see someone else's face looking back, first confirm that the mirror isn't actually a window; then freak out . . . Especially if it is a window.] then giving her a reason to want to live again.

Aiden's the only person (or ghost) Elsie feels comfortable talking to – the only one who doesn’t force her to talk about that night. [What about her sister? Is she a ghost?] [Why do all other people and ghosts force her to talk about that night?] As their friendship starts to heat up, so does the mystery surrounding him. [Can she see Aiden anywhere except in the mirror? Because if I had a friend who existed in a mirror, I would feel pretty weird if the friendship started heating up. You definitely don't want anyone to see you making out with a mirror.] [Although it is pretty erotic.] [I'm told.] If his secret of who he really is, his sudden disappearance, and the absence of touch doesn’t disrupt their relationship, Mimi Jenkins will. [Who? Ah, the other woman. Are good men so hard to find these days that women will fight over a guy who exists only in a mirror?]

In her search to find out why Mimi is so bent on hurting her, Elsie stumbles across an article about the accident. Not only does she discover Mimi's dad caused the wreck, but she also finds out Aiden may be alive. [Did he claim to be dead?] She now knows why he kept his identity a secret. His car was the last one to hit her; killing her sister. In order to find him she must first face off with a deranged Mimi – who doesn't care who hit who, or that her dad was a drunk, fact is, Elsie caused him not to come home – if she fails, Elsie will lose more than Aiden, she could potentially lose her life. [Could you diagram that sentence for me?]

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,


Notes

So Mimi's dad plows into Elsie's stopped car, knocking it into the path of Aiden's car. I'm thinking most of the force of the first accident would be absorbed by the cars, so that Elsie's car would not be moving very fast or very far into the intersection, and Aiden would have had time to swerve and brake . . . unless . . . Aiden had his eyes closed because he was in the middle of an allergy-related sneeze. Note how with a little applied logic I was able to explain the seemingly inexplicable.

It doesn't seem that someone who was about to commit suicide over the loss of her sister would so quickly get involved in a hot and heavy romance with a guy in her mirror.

How many of these cars had airbags?

It's not easy to buy Mimi blaming Elsie.

No one's named their kid Elsie since it became the name of a famous cow half a century ago. Change it to Elise.

Cartoon 541

Caption: anon.

Your caption on the next cartoon! Link in sidebar.

Survey Results

1. Which of the following blog features would you miss if
it were no longer here?


.................................Keep it.............Dump it.............Huh?
Face-Lifts................100.0%................0.0% ..................0.0%
New Beginnings.......94.7%.................2.6% ...................2.6%
Cartoons...................81.1%................16.2%.....................2.7%
Saturday Films.........35.7%...............32.1% ...................32.1%
Writing Exercises.....90.0%................3.3%......................6.7%
Guess the Plot...........91.9%................5.4%......................2.7%
Book Chats...............48.3%................6.9%....................44.8%
Misc..........................43.8% ...............3.1%....................53.1%
Q & A........................Forgot to include in survey.

For those who didn't know there was misc. stuff here, I was referring to pieces like this and this and this.

Cartoon 540

Caption: Evil Editor

Your caption on the next cartoon! Link in sidebar.

Writing Exercise Results . . .

are in the posts below. The task was to write a scene in which you consult Evil Editor, Gift Counselor.

EE, Gift Counselor 6

Evil stopped scribbling and looked up from behind a huge pile of paper I suspected had nothing to do with gift counseling. “So, what’s she like?”

I thought of my one true love and hesitated. So many virtues, so many superlatives to choose from.

“She’s wonderful with animals,” I began, “and has this really endearing way of—”

“Jesus,” said Evil. “Keep it simple, punchy. Is she a dame or a dog? Genius or dimbo? Hot or frigid? Angel or killer? Elf or dwarf? Blonde? Redhead? Brunette? Bald? Help me out here.”

My head spun like an Exorcist DVD used as a frisbee.

With a roll of his eyes, Evil tossed a wad of paper into a shredder. “Hey, she sounds great. Why don’t you just fuck her? In a Santa hat? Hundred bucks.”

“Whaaaat?”

“Okay, have it your way. I’ll fuck her. Three hundred bucks.”

I grabbed my coat. “You disgust me!”

“Five hundred bucks and we both do her! Seven fifty and I bring a friend! A grand and the friend is a horse! Two grand and we post it on my blog! Three grand and Liza Minnelli...”

*

MINUTES LATER...

Mrs Varmighan shook the hat.

Evil’s fingers trilled the air, then plucked out a folded notelet.

“Whaddya know — Spiritual Advisor,” he said with a smile. “Run downstairs and change the sign, willya?”

--Whirlochre

EE, Gift Counselor 5

"I suggest dinner... a brace of Donner," EE said.

"Noritake?"

"No. Some Internet geek calculated that Santa must travel at 3604.3678 miles per hour to deliver all his gifts. At that speed, the reindeer fry from friction. There's a web site that sells Reindeer ribs, wrapped in bacon and cooked by the blast of a jet engine. It's a festive plate of reindeer with cranberry dressing and Blitzen Bock beer." He smacked his lps.

"Sounds perfectly atrocious. How do you have a romantic evening with crispy-critter game meat? We're not barbarians. I didn't knock my fiance' on the head and drag her into a cave with roast beast twirling over an open fire. We're going to a three-star restaurant with fine wine and fancy food."

"Is she a good-looker like Mrs. V? You got a picture? All you kids got pictures in them cell phone gadgets." Visions of naked sugarplums danced in EE's head.

"To me, she's the prettiest girl in the world."

"How about summers going out and about in a boat at Cape Lullubeau? Here's a proper three-masted schooner, very yar, quick to the helm. Cheap too. Owned by a little old lady who only took her out on alternate weekends." He peeled a naval orange.

"You're sparring with me."

"Perhaps a pashmina shawl for her lovely shoulders?"

"What's a pashmina?"

"It's cashmere from exotic goats in the Gobi Desert. My cousin Raul the Goatherd caresses the fur into skeins of yarn for his wife, Yazi Queen of All Gobi, to weave into ethereally soft shawls."

"Your cousin lives in the Gobi? I thought your family came from Queens."

"Ever since we signed the deal. Now he's like a brother. Nice guy but smells of goat." EE shuddered.

"Didn't need to know that. She adores cobalt-blue with gold trim."

--Dave F.

EE, Gift Counselor 4

“Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, does it?”

I blink. “Huh?’

“Sometimes,” he opined, “you have to part. Divorce, if you like.”

“Divorce?”

He slapped his hand down on the table. “Money, you dolt. How much do you have to spend and where’s my fee anyway?”

“Oh.” I pulled a folded-up envelope out of my pocket and slid it over to him. “So, I still need to buy for all my aunts and uncles. I’ve got…” I counted on my fingers. “Two pairs on Mom’s side, three on Dad’s, and a family friend type of aunt and uncle.”

“Novel Deviations. That’s—”

“$5 each.”

“Yes, but you have to buy the whole set.”

I scribbled that down in my notebook. “OK, Mom’s side likes literature well enough. But everyone else is pretty redneck.”

He glanced around, all shifty-eyed. “Do you have much left to spend? Minus my fee?”

“A couple hundred, maybe? Depending on whether or not I want college tuition next fall.”

“College schmollege. Intern instead. So,” and he lowered his voice, “an old friend left me these. Secondhand, but she took good care of them.”

He pushed one across the desk to me, and I peered at it. “A cluegun?”

He was looking at me, googly-eyed. “Divorce with your money. You know it to be true.”

“Um, yeah. But I need to make sure the gun works, first.”

“No, don’t point that—!”

“——————————”

--_*rachel*_

EE, Gift Counselor 3

Yes sir, may I help you?

I hope so. I need a gift idea for my wife.

Price?

Seventy-five dollars.

No problem. Uh, payment in advance please.

American Express?

Of course . . . Thank you, I'll run that through . . . and if you'll sign here?

Okay . . . Whoa. Two hundred and ninety-eight dollars? Is that a joke?

It's my usual fee.

It's four times what I'm spending on the gift!

I can suggest a more expensive gift, if you wish.

The gift price is fine. It's the fee that's--

Sir, this is your wife. I assume she looked at the last gift you gave her as if it were a steaming turd?

Yes, but even I could come up with a decent gift for $373.00.

I doubt it.

Of course I--

You'd get her a new refrigerator for the den. So she wouldn't have to keep bringing you beer from the kitchen. Thoughtful.

Hmm. Actually, that's not bad. Wait, how much are those mini-fridges?

Christ, you sound like Tiger Woods. He wouldn't pay my fee, bought his wife golf equipment, she cut him off, the rest is history.

Tiger--?

Look, you can pay me my $298.00, or you can spend thousands on a marriage counselor followed by decades of alimony. Paying my fee is like upgrading from sleeping on the couch to sleeping with a Scandinavian supermodel.

Gimme the damn receipt. I'll sign . . . There. Now what's your brilliant suggestion?

Art. Specifically, this oil painting I did a few months back.

That looks like a painting of you!

A self-portrait. Lemme know how she likes it. Oh, and I'll need that American Express card again.

--Evil Editor

EE, Gift Counselor 2

I stopped at the booth on the third floor of Pentagon City Mall, right outside Nordstrom. I hated fucking shopping, and if some stranger had a good idea, I mean, what the hell, beats the gift basket crap I usually fall back on. Plus I have a cheap-o of a Welsh husband, likes to hold onto cash and horde it like a freakin' Scroogy miser, (was Scrooge secretly Welsh, I wonder?) so, ya know, a bargain would be good. I was just pulling my list out when I looked up and saw those beautiful blue eyes of his (Sparky's - not Welsh-boy's) and the smirk playing around his mouth, and oh, that sure was a nice mouth, and... Dammit, Robin, snap out of it, I told myself. You've gotta be strong.

"Oh, no." I said. You've got to be kidding me!"

Sparky looked at me. "You said that last time."

"I meant that last time. And I mean it this time - you've got to be kidding me. YOU - a gift counselor? And who ever heard of a gift counselor, anyway?"

"Well, you were heading for the gift-counseling booth, weren't you?"

"Yeah. Well. Yeah, I was, until I saw it was you manning it."

Sparky grinned. "But you still came over."

"So are you gonna help me?"

"Help you what?"

"Think of gift crap for people?"

"Sure," he said. "Show me your list."

I showed him.

He looked, and tossed the list back. "Let me ask you a question. How thoughtful are these people when it comes to your gift each year?"

"Well," I said. "I always get crap I don't want. I even tell them what I want when they ask, pens and writing journals and a couple of novels I'd like in hardback, that kind of thing, but they never do it."

"Get 'em gift baskets with white wine and chocolates, then, and you can drink the wine with 'em, and give yourself a gift at the same time, see? Sort of a gift that keeps on giving. To you."

"That's what I do every year anyway."

"Well, you were right all along, then. That will be twenty-five dollars."

"And a kiss?"

"No kiss."

--Robin S.