The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Jacketh » 9th November, 2017, 11:58 am

Year Cup: Fictional Writing Challenge



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"You attend a party at the GTF mansion. All members from around the world attend. It is your job to describe the ongoings of the night. It could be a particular event, situation, or drama. You have 1000 words."

This prompt lends itself quite well to humour, but you could also go a different route and focus on it being a tragedy. It is up to you. You may to include members of your team, and you could also take pictures of you, or ask other members, to illustrate your story.


You will be judged, collectively, on:

• Creativity
• Technical Ability
• Grammar


Rules and Judging

• You may collaborate together with team members, but only one author gets credit.
• Plagiarism will lead to immediate disqualification.
• You may use a maximum of three pictures in your story. This is encouraged.
• The word limit is 1000 words.
• Prize points depend on how many submissions there are, as will be the case with futures challenges.
• Winners announced 21st November.
• Do not dispute the judging or prompt.
• Regardless of where you finish, you will score two points for entering.
• Remember, this is for fun. :)

The Deadline is 20th November. If everyone leaves it until the last minute, we may require more time for judging - so try not to do that. Regardless of where you finish, each member will score 5 participation points.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Vortex » 9th November, 2017, 6:29 pm

I got some ideas.
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Ebsy wrote:Leave it to losers on Twitter to complain about being pandered to. You're supposed to complain when someone panders to others, not to you.
[4:46 AM] Saint Drogo: Also, you've got a strangely appealing asshole. I'll give you that much.
[6:03 AM] Pity: Omg... stop making me sound like a racist idiot
[4:51 AM] Scherzy: jerk off to clinton in the safety of your own bedroom luv
[2:56 PM] Saint Drogo: Literally let me use my cock as a paintbrush and my unborn children as paint.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Kaspar » 9th November, 2017, 6:37 pm

Thiiiiiis one's gonna be fun :D
Proudly, the Captain of team Spirited Away
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Vortex » 9th November, 2017, 7:07 pm

Wait-is that 1000 words maximum or minimum?
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Ebsy wrote:Leave it to losers on Twitter to complain about being pandered to. You're supposed to complain when someone panders to others, not to you.
[4:46 AM] Saint Drogo: Also, you've got a strangely appealing asshole. I'll give you that much.
[6:03 AM] Pity: Omg... stop making me sound like a racist idiot
[4:51 AM] Scherzy: jerk off to clinton in the safety of your own bedroom luv
[2:56 PM] Saint Drogo: Literally let me use my cock as a paintbrush and my unborn children as paint.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Kaspar » 9th November, 2017, 7:40 pm

Vortex wrote:Wait-is that 1000 words maximum or minimum?

Dan, the "word limit is 1000" :P It's not that hard to figure out
Proudly, the Captain of team Spirited Away
House Cup 2017

mattyk wrote:You are indeed all-round 100% certified awesome!



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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Jacketh » 9th November, 2017, 10:32 pm

Vortex wrote:Wait-is that 1000 words maximum or minimum?


Max :)
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Jacketh » 9th November, 2017, 11:05 pm

And for the new members, you just simply post your story here when you're done :)

Me, Tim, Kris, and a few others will be the judges.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby TheBrunswickian » 9th November, 2017, 11:31 pm

oh boy this will be interesting to work with
House Cup 2016 - Team Westeros
House Cup 2017 - Team Lion King
Year Cup 2017/18 - The Far East



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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Petre » 10th November, 2017, 6:49 pm

Sorry for blinding you with my profile pic (At least I'm blocking some of the ugly with my hand?).
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Vortex » 12th November, 2017, 11:26 pm

Kaspar wrote:
Vortex wrote:Wait-is that 1000 words maximum or minimum?

Dan, the "word limit is 1000" :P It's not that hard to figure out

In my defense my brain is fried from all the weed I shoot up.
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Ebsy wrote:Leave it to losers on Twitter to complain about being pandered to. You're supposed to complain when someone panders to others, not to you.
[4:46 AM] Saint Drogo: Also, you've got a strangely appealing asshole. I'll give you that much.
[6:03 AM] Pity: Omg... stop making me sound like a racist idiot
[4:51 AM] Scherzy: jerk off to clinton in the safety of your own bedroom luv
[2:56 PM] Saint Drogo: Literally let me use my cock as a paintbrush and my unborn children as paint.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby wolbre04 » 17th November, 2017, 7:44 pm

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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby ConnorM » 18th November, 2017, 1:58 am

[Reveal] Spoiler: "Flash"
I shook my head, staring at the well-lit large brick structure with something approaching awe. “So you’ve actually managed it,” I stated.
“Yeah, it took a bit longer than I thought it would, but hey, better late than never?” Jack replied, walking up to shake my hand. “Here, let me show you around,” he waved a hand at the rolling hills and verdant forests surrounding.
We entered the vestibule, a place of coatrack after coatrack, all of them overburdened. “These are mostly Harry’s,” Jack explained to me, moving on quickly.
He pointed to our right as we passed through a windowed corridor, showing a pool full of twinks splashing around or pressed up against the side, making out. Not a lot of swimming seemed to be happening, to be honest. There was a skinny Hispanic man, in his early thirties or thereabouts, with the rod of a pool skimmer in his hands and a smaller rod tenting his shorts as he watched the proceedings. Some niggling trace of a memory tickled the back of my mind, suggesting that this man’s name was “Erik” or something like that. I dismissed the odd notion outright.
As we walked through another hallway, our dear leader pointed out a room in which much shouting was to be had. It was locked, not on the inside, but with deadbolts on the exterior of the door. A placard read “Scottish Socialist Debate Room.” We hurried along, lest the angry Caledonians somehow break free.
“It’s certainly impressive, what you’ve done here,” I congratulated Jack as we continued our promenade. “In fact – ew, what the fuck?!” The scene elicited from me as we rounded a corner to the sight of two twinks who I didn’t recognize going at it in the hallway.
“Petre! Ben! We have rooms for a reason!” Jack scolded, shooing them away.
I made a disgusted sound as the two chastised teens fled. “Newfags.” I spat, as though it were a curse. Jack simply nodded.
We hurried along, Jack hastening the tour after that incident. The next rude shock, however, wasn’t more naked teens fucking on the carpet like animals, however, it was instead an animal itself. Or, more accurately, its corpse. “My God!” I exclaimed, rushing to the poor dog’s side, as I attempted to check its pulse. There was none. I looked back towards Jack, who’d come to kneel beside me as the recognition hit. “It’s Flash, the old chat,” I cradled its head, cold blood from its slit throat coating my hands as I did so. “It only ever wanted to help us, who would do this to it?” I asked Jack, holding back tears.
“I don’t know who would be evil enough to do this, but Connor, look at it. Its time had come anyways.” Jack responded.
“No!” I shouted, filled with sudden hatred. “It deserved better than this!” Realization struck me fully. Pooler. It had to be Pooler. “Quick, where’s Matt’s room?”
“Third hallway to the left, second door.”
With no time to lose, I rushed down, barging in to the room. As I expected, it was unoccupied, so I grabbed a saber off the wall. It wasn’t my trusty sword Wristbreaker, or better yet my rifle, just some old hunk of metal that Matt had picked up while off to fuck some twink who wasn’t Harry, but it would do.
I brandished it, striding through the halls shouting at every step. “Pooler! Come and face me you coward! I should have known you killed the poor old thing!”
When I reached the window hallway, instead of opening the sliding glass door, I smashed it with the hilt of the sword. Twinks all around suddenly became aroused, my alpha move having excited them with submissive fantasies, but I paid them no heed. “Erik! You had better fight like a man this time!” I shouted. Over in the GayForumdotOrg mansion he’d run away from the backroom rather than showing up like a man.
There was no fear in his eyes, though, only confusion. “Kill what? All you’re doing is killing my erection, man. I’m just here for the jailbait- I mean,” I suddenly noticed the metal tracking device on his ankle “I’m only here getting paid so I can contribute my taxes and prove that I’m not a menace to society?” His words should have been a statement, but they came out as a question.
“If it wasn’t you who killed chat, then who-“ I paused, turning around when I heard the crunch of shoes stepping on broken glass. I stared in shock, betrayal flashing in my eyes. “Jack.”
“Connor.” He responded, a sword in his hand as well. Beside him, however, was a dog. A new dog, sleek, and hypoallergenic, and faggoty-looking.
“How dare you! You killed Flash to replace it with Discord?!” Rage blinded me, but before I could attack, Jack spoke, with a measured voice,
“Flash’s time had come. It’s time for a new chat, and a new GTF.” He lifted the saber.
“You’re replacing all of us.” I said quietly. “Starting with locking away all the oldfags in the Socialism room. And killing Flash.”
“Yes, and next, I’m replacing you.” He ran at me, waving his sword.
Two things happened in quick succession. The first, I swung my blade into his, shattering both, and leaving us weaponless, except that my sword had a basket hilt, while his didn’t, and in the same motion I swung it further, punching his face with it. At this, every twink in the sight had a massive, spontaneous orgasm from the display of my oldfag manliness.
Jack spat out blood, but was otherwise fine. He held the advantage though, his loyal lapdog right beside him.
I sighed, defeated but not disheartened. “Truce?” I asked, pointing to his dog.
“Truce.” He responded. We walked back inside, talking amiably.

The moral of this story? Respect oldfags and their goddamned miniatures threads you fuckers.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Jacketh » 18th November, 2017, 2:23 am

woo, a couple more entries! You've got just over two days.

I'm aware the prompt is causing some people difficulty, particularly new users. But just roll with it. You could focus on yourself and not even mention another user. You could completely make users up if you want.

It's something we'll work on in future :)
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Vortex » 18th November, 2017, 10:38 am

It's causing me difficulty because I don't remember who is relevant anymore so I am gonna just include whoever comes to mind.
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Ebsy wrote:Leave it to losers on Twitter to complain about being pandered to. You're supposed to complain when someone panders to others, not to you.
[4:46 AM] Saint Drogo: Also, you've got a strangely appealing asshole. I'll give you that much.
[6:03 AM] Pity: Omg... stop making me sound like a racist idiot
[4:51 AM] Scherzy: jerk off to clinton in the safety of your own bedroom luv
[2:56 PM] Saint Drogo: Literally let me use my cock as a paintbrush and my unborn children as paint.
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Jacketh » 19th November, 2017, 2:06 am

Vortex wrote:It's causing me difficulty because I don't remember who is relevant anymore so I am gonna just include whoever comes to mind.


Do it! :awesome:
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Jacketh » 19th November, 2017, 2:07 am

Also, err... The Far East, where art thou? :err:
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby wolbre04 » 19th November, 2017, 3:27 am

TWW! TWW! TWW!
:clap3: :clap3: :clap3:
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby George » 19th November, 2017, 4:29 am

ConnorM is TFE, so thats 1 entry - rest of us are seriously struggling, the prompt is difficult to score well on for some of our users
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby IAmGabe » 19th November, 2017, 6:25 am

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-KC ... vmLmJJfNSQ

It’s bad but hey, it’s there. Also just got done reading a book, so I used some concepts from it.
I️ also don’t know anybody well enough to include them, so I️ just kinda did my own thing :/
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Re: The Year Cup, Challenge 1: Fictional Writing

Unread postby Squipel » 19th November, 2017, 11:12 am

Here's my entry for the fictional writing, enough said:

[Reveal] Spoiler:
As Mati walked into the dining room he noticed the body of George. He went round the people left in the room after the murder was discovered. He first walked around the circle of suspects, looking at each one in turn.

Next he brought the first suspect, Jack Spears, into a separate room. The first thing Mati asked him was “Where were you at the time of the murder?”

Jack answered, “I was in my room with Petre”

Next, Mati brought in Petre and asked him “Why were you with Jack at the time of the murder?”

Petre replied, “We were sat in his room just chatting.”

“Was anybody else with you?”

“No, just me and Jack (we don’t trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die)”

“Right ok, then. Could you describe to me the scene that you walked into after the murder?”

“We walked into the dining room and saw two or three people gathered around something on the floor. They then parted and we could see George on the floor.”

Then Mati walked over to Gabe, who’d recently decided to give in with being sober and drunk himself unconscious. Deciding that not much could be gained from questioning Gabe, Mate walks over to Peter and Jack (who were stood together in the corner, being 100% fabulously gay).

Mati then said “Do either of you know the whereabouts of Gabs during the murder?”

They replied “We saw him sat quietly in the corner drinking some water before we left and when we came back he seemed to have gone to sleep”

Next Matisse went over to the penultimate suspect, Kacper, and said “What were you doing during the murder?”

“I was stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, brushing all these beautiful locks of black hair. If you want you can check the floor of my bathroom, my hair keeps on falling out nowadays, it’s so upsetting”

Mati walks into Kacper’s bathroom and crouches down to look at the floor, where he sees that there are indeed locks of Kacper’s hair littering the floor, proof that Kacper had indeed brushed his hair earlier.

Mati walks over to the final suspect, Kamiel, and asks him “Where were you at the time of the murder Kamiel?”

Kamiel replies, “I was in the dining room, eating, Gabe was in the corner.”

Mati realised that the only person who could have killed George was Kamiel!

Mati took Kamiel away and locked him away for life (that’s twenty-five years minimum, so don’t worry he’ll still be out eventually so as to return to GFO as a twunk).

The End

All views expressed in this short story are not the author’s own and all character’s represented in this story are totally, entirely fictional, any similarities with real people is “entirely accidental”.
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