Micro-Fiction Roundup XLI: Rumble in the Jungle

July 9, 2011 in Micro-Fiction Roundup

Jungle-yIt’s that time again! After a tumultuous two weeks, Micro-fiction Roundup is here once more to make everything better, from saving radioactive jellyfish to providing child sociopaths with lighters and directions to the nearest church. No, micro-fiction will not accept your gifts of appreciation, no matter how many piles of cocaine you offer up in adoration. Yep, Micro-fiction is just that classy. As you know, last week’s topic was Hit Men. We had thirteen entries for our dear judge, Skahammer, to choose a winner from. Quick recap of the submissions:

  • Josiegroperuntitled piece
  • The PishJust Another Day
  • Chillbear LatrigueSatisfaction Guaranteed
  • Skahammer - The MILFSassin
  • Chillbear LatrigueConfederazzi
  • MilitantRubberDuckyPlan B
  • PerverseusJournal Entry #77
  • Lonely Girl - untitled piece
  • The Pish - Infamous
  • Latterday Lenin - Timmy Thompson: Child Assassin
  • SkahammerCareer Opportunities
  • Chillbear LatrigueKitty Assassins
  • TristantzaraThe Killer Can’t Sleep

Sadly, Tristantzara’s piece was submitted after the deadline and was ineligible for consideration.

It was Skahammer’s turn to judge this week:

I’m picking as my winner Perverseus’ ”Journal Entry #77” — the ”Project Tarzan” story. In the compact form of a Micro-Fiction, it’s often useful to deploy familiar characters and situations as shorthand — so you don’t have to spend precious words establishing a setting or character. Within its familiar setting, however, Perverseus’ effort still manages to be bracingly original and to cover — or at least sketch out — quite a bit of narrative ground. (Who doesn’t find themselves, two-thirds of the way through the story, considering the details of those ”encouraging noises” made by ”the woman”?) Well played, Perverseus.

Way to go, Perverseus! Here’s the winning piece in case you missed it:

Journal Entry #77

Cheetah took it well; he knew he had crossed the line. He accepted his fate with that goofy smile of his and died without a struggle. I’m not sure who the family will insert in his place. My recommendation would be a female. That should avoid further problems with the woman. I understand his urges – she’s very attractive, frequently naked, and makes encouraging noises when she lays with the man – but we can’t let on how much we know. We can’t compromise the mission because of a primal urge to inject Jane with a banana smoothie. Project Tarzan is too important.

Wonderful piece, my dear Perv. Based on the winning entry, this Micro-fiction’s topic will be The Jungle. Hot and steamy, dark and deadly – I expect a boatload of entries.

Rules

Your entry must be 101 words or less; if you choose to title your piece, the title will not count against your word count; there is no limit on the amount of entries you can submit.

  1. You will have two weeks to submit an entry; the deadline will be Tuesday nights at midnight. This will give the judge 48 hours to submit his or her selection to me by Thursday night at midnight (That’s the midnight that leads into Friday, not the midnight that leads Wednesday to Thursday. You’d think some [read: me] would know this. You’d be wrong though.). The deadlines were originally Wednesday and Friday, respectively, but I goofed and now it’s fixed to give the judges and me (mostly me) time to get up the new topic.
  2. If I don’t receive the judge’s selection by one of the established methods (e-mail, Wordsmoker messaging or Facebook private messaging) I will be forced to make the selection so as not to delay the next week’s competition.
  3. The winner of Micro-Fiction Roundup automatically assumes the responsibility of judging the next week’s competition. Obviously that person can still submit writing, but can’t pick themselves as the winner. Otherwise we could end up with some sort of ridiculous perpetual judge situation.
  4. In the interest of keeping tradition, I will try to select themes based upon the previous week’s submissions when possible.
  5. REMINDER: You are allowed and encouraged to submit multiple entries.

Here’s a little music to get you in the mood:


  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/latterdaylenin/ Latterday Lenin

    We can’t compromise the mission because of a primal urge to inject Jane with a banana smoothie. Project Tarzan is too important.

    This had me giggling. Excellent choice.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/latterdaylenin/ Latterday Lenin

    Chad & Steve Move to Guatemala!!!

    First blog entry, everyone! The bus from Quetzaltenango was hell, but we’re finally at our new home in little Gato Salvaje! Can you believe this old hacienda was $10,000? It’s a little far from Tikal but our dream of starting a B&B is finally coming true. Chad is already dreaming up gourmet scone ideas and comparing paint chips. Some villagers came by today and seemed concerned about something… Gotta learn Spanish! There also appears to be silverware missing from the kitchen. Better not be Lupita!! One thing’s certain, Hacienda Luna Sangriente will be the best gay B&B ever!!!

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/fictionsinmotion/ Vaquero

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gd-oC5eq7Ps

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/chillbearlatrigue/ Chillbear Latrigue

    Calling Axl on his Bullshit

    “Welcome to the jungle, how may I help you?”

    “Yes, my family has come for the fun and games.”

    “I’m sorry, sir, but the jungle doesn’t have any ‘fun and games.’”

    “Well, what amenities do you have?”

    “Amenities? This is the jungle. We have all sorts of vicious man-eating mammals, poisonous insects, quick sand, Ebola monkeys, strangle snakes, army ants, piranha—although, they’re at least confined to the water, cannibalistic Pygmies with blowguns, flash floods, famine and genocide to name a few.

    “Do you have a Toss Across™?”

    “Of course, we’re not barbarians.”

    “Great, we’ll take three rooms, please.”

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/skahammer/ skahammer

    PERSONAL PREFERENCE

    Progress through the brush was slow. Traversing this warm, humid territory required extreme care. Speed wasn’t necessarily a virtue, and could easily land one in trouble.

    So I took my time. I would plunge forward, probing — then retreat after a moment, conserving energy. I even rested occasionally.

    Still the climb was steady, the ascent gradual. And when the peak was finally reached, all my effort was spectacularly rewarded.

    Gasping, she raised herself slightly and asked: “Are you sure you don’t want me to shave down there?”

    And my face shone with both moisture and joy as I answered: “No. Absolutely not.”

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/militantrubberducky/ MilitantRubberDucky

    Captain’s Log : 15 September 1932

    The days are scorching; the sun so bright I think it will swallow this whole godforsaken island. Air so heavy and sticky it seems my lungs will crush under the weight of it, sapping my strength faster than I can recover. The days are wretched, but the nights are frighteningly worse; the wreckage of my biplane provides little cover, the only thing keeping the hungry beasts at bay is my campfire, their eyes predatory in the blackness. If the rumbling sky is any sign, I will lose even that last defense – I fear I shall not survive the ever encroaching night.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/militantrubberducky/ MilitantRubberDucky

    All The World’s Skies

    I couldn’t see them in Vegas, so I fled to the desert, but the alone was too much for me. I tried to find them in Linfen, but the smog hid them. The Himalayas held no hope of discovery. I was too busy dodging Vespas in Rome to look up, too distracted by love, heartbreak, and boulangeries in Paris to find an open patch of sky. I nearly quit, too disappointed in god to look up. Then I stepped into the Congo, stared at a sky that winked at me through a canopy filled with wild things, and found peace.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/skahammer/ skahammer

    HARDCORE

    The rebel leader looked tired.

    He was ill from malaria, airborne defoliants. And smoke; the government’s latest tactic was torching his suspected refuges.

    Isolated and hunted, his remaining men surrounded him like pallbearers. All the women had escaped long ago.

    Once, the leader had been celebrated. Parades with Castro, feasts with Mobutu, tea with Mao. Now he scuttled through jungles like a dung-beetle, hiding.

    I’d traveled days, blindfolded, to meet him. “Any regrets?” I asked.

    He pondered, then wheezed: “We should have killed all enemy prisoners when we had the chance.”

    When he died, our interview became his epitaph. None mourned.

  • http://wordsmoker.com levari

    In a corner of the house, there is something growing. It natters to itself, green words of solace and encouragement, flustered by the cats that nuzzle its stem, awakening to possibilities, alternately thirsty and drowned, yearning for the sun blocked out by concrete and other green things. It reaches the limits of its tiny pot and yells for more, transmissions on a wavelength only the others can hear, and they smirk as he turns brown, losing one leaf, then the other. The end is not far now.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/skahammer/ skahammer

    HOW ABOUT THURSDAY?

    When I finally found you again, after months of searching and thousands spent on guides, you were vaccinating children in upcountry villages.

    But well outside your security perimeter. Dedication, yes.

    So when armed tribes materialized, seeking hostages, your group offered easy pickings.

    Of course no one counted on my presence there, nor my military training. Our lack of weapons was a real problem — but luckily the monsoon covered our escape.

    And I didn’t have to carry you too far through the jungle — maybe ten clicks, altogether. Plus I had help.

    So please, will you go out to dinner with me now?

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/chillbearlatrigue/ Chillbear Latrigue

    I notice there are only eight or so submissions. I will be submitting again, but in the mean time, here’s some more inspirational music:

    httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJhAyg2LTEk

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/skahammer/ skahammer

    @ Chillbear Latrigue: Just so you know, Chill, I am utterly frothing with jealousy that you managed to dream up and deploy the sentence “I’m sorry, sir, but the jungle doesn’t have any ‘fun and games’” in your submission.

    Leave some good lines for the rest of us, man. Jeez.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/chillbearlatrigue/ Chillbear Latrigue

    Practical Jokes You Can Play in the Jungle

    “If you lick the bark of that tree, you’ll get Ebola,” declared Max.

    “Fuck off. Ebola comes from monkeys, not tree bark,” Sam retorted.

    “Yeah? Then lick it,” Max challenged.

    “Fine, I will,” Sam replied, walking over to the tree.

    As Sam’s tongue touched the tree bark, Max reached into his jacket and produced a small tube. He pointed it at Sam and blew an Ebola-laced dart into his chum’s neck.

    “I never said how you’d get Ebola,” Max cried.

    The two friends laughed hysterically and Sam died a horrible death a few days later.

    (All humor is not universal.)

  • http://wordsmoker.com/members/misslinda/ misslinda

    It's really just a forest, but who's counting.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/whyamihere/ WhyamIhere?

    @MissLinda: You are 899 words over the limit.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/help/members-3/chillbearlatrigue/ Chillbear Latrigue

    @ misslinda: Oh cool. You went to Rainforest Cafe.

  • http://wordsmoker.com/members/misslinda/ misslinda

    @ Chillbear Latrigue:
    I missed you too, Chillbear.