THIS MEANS WAR! The 5th 2000ad Online Short Story Competition.

[Mike Gloady]

As far as I'm concerned a war story/song/poem by a Twoth art droid (built by Tharg's own hand) is about as 2000ad as it gets (short of Mr Ezquerra posting a video of himself on youtube pretending to be Johnny Alpha).

So there! *rasp*

[Kerrin]

If you feel you should do a more obviously tooth entry Colin then go for it mate. I think the two entries you've done are fine, we've got "Deadeyes" as a modern British war related story and the ones Logan mentioned for the 20th century conflicts.

[Paul faplad Finch]

Absolutely. That stuff deserves to be in it.

[Alski]

here's another one:

Gladys & Fred (491 Words)

Everyone likes Gladys and Fred. It's rare that you find a couple like them, as, in general, people are scum. Yeah, I know it's a jaded view, but it's kept me alive as long as this, and it'll keep me alive for a good few more years, as long as I don't let some snecker get the jump on me. Gladys and Fred wouldn't dream of getting the jump on anyone, mainly because they're way too old for that sort of shit. At 92, Fred is way past his prime, no longer capable of piloting a dropship, no longer a leader of men, just content to be the best husband and neighbour he can, which is a pretty great way to be, when you think about it. He was in the local news vid last week, and not for the first time. One of his neighbours, Mrs Wagner, was being mugged by a mutie kid. The kid wasn't much of a mutie, just six toes on each foot, but it was enough for "normal" society to keep him at arms length. Anyway, Mrs Wagner wasn't too keen on giving up her pension credits, and the kid, Carlos, was trying his best to persuade her otherwise, using the argument commonly known as "a beating".  Fred was passing by, and instead of scuttling away he grabbed Carlos, took him down and sat on him 'til the cops arrived. Not bad for an old guy, and certainly worthy of a full page in the newsie.

Whilst she doesn't beat up muggers, Gladys is no less impressive. A few years behind Fred, her husband of sixty years now, she is as trim as she was in her youth. At a recent Eldsters Olympiad, strictly for the over eighties (no bionics allowed), she kicked some major ass in no less than seven events. She also started up a charity for abused Morks some time ago, and that charity is still going strong. Odd to me how some people rate animals over people, but I suppose it's easier to give sympathy to something that's cute and makes a funny noise. Either way, Gladys is what's known as a swell old gal, and when teamed up with Fred, she's one half of a whole lot of love. Sweet, isn't it.

Of course, they don't look so sweet now, lying at my feet with a neat bullet hole through each of their foreheads. Gladys has the shocked look on her face from when she opened the door to find my blaster pointing at her, and Fred a more angry one from when he came at me with, of all things, a fly swatter. I take a knife and mark their faces with the symbol, a symbol that me and my kind will never, ever forget. Gladys and Fred may have been sweet old duffers, kind to animals and the best of neighbours, but sixty years ago they were Kreelers.

[Colin MacNeil]

Wow! That was a good'un. Kept me guessing right up to the end. Full of true human experiance with a wonderful twothy twist. A big three thumbs up to you.

[Alski]

Cheers, Col. Gladys and Fred were my Grandparents, although they weren't Kreelers 

[Van Dom]

You've got plenty of time Van, comp ends midnight on the 16th of November.

Cheers Kerrin! I doubt I'll be submitting anything though, what with jetlag and also an overflowing pile of work in my "to do" tray at work (cheers to my fellow workmates for keeping on top of things in my absence....not!) I did have an idea knocking about in the old noggin...if by some miracle I find the time I'll certainly post it up but I don't have high hopes!
Great stuff by all involved so far though!

[COMMANDO FORCES]

I'm gonna try and finish two more off tonight.
I can't believe you lot didn't tell me how hard the writing lark is

[Roger Godpleton]

Here we go.

VIOLENT WAR. (497 words)

If we were to be dull, we might make the inane comparison between The Sedgrave Divorce and the Boer War. Both were superficially aerial wars, concerned with the accumulation of forestry. Both were due to climax with a procession of crypto-psychic duels fought with increasingly short halberds. Both were likely to climax in a one-sided stalemate, as those who were obstensibly on the losing side turned to hallucinogenics in an effort to project their own delusions onto the noumenal realm through sheer force of pharmatological will. It should be noted that both parties were not aware of The Sedgrave Divorce being an actual inevitability at the point where we join them.

It was Christmas in the Sedgrave household, a sprawling pile staffed, as with all similarly venerable institutions, with buggerers of all persuasions. Charles Sedgrave, the scion of this most elephantine of dynasties had already commenced with his usual spree of insults against his older siblings.

"Clarissa, you bovine sow, your beauty cannot hide the constant aura of idiocy which you so eagerly project, unconsciously or not. I am tired of your constant vampiric presence. Leave your present at my bedside. I already know what it is, it's some sort of ersatz fire truck as used by the East Germans. It's very nice, thank you."

Clarissa left the toy ambulance by Charles' bed and left. Next to slope in to speak to Charles was Thomas, who, if we were to be dull, might be considered as the black sheep of the family, as if any family construed around the obsessively Aphroditian nucleus of Margaux Sedgrave Folstrom could ever produce any child that was even partially unloved.

"I have brought you a present", intoned Thomas in his oppressively solemn howls.
"Oh, you have, and what would that be, you fucking turd?"
"It is a letter from Herriman to Hearst written in 1945. I shall read it to you and Roger will put it in a quote box with scrolling text if it will work"

May I ask just what the fuck is with lemon drizzle cake. I like sponge cake as it is. You do NOT pour a shitload of lemon juice in it just because you do not have the imagination to project your own paint[/move][/quote]

Charles threw a hard-boiled egg at Thomas. Were I Charles' wet nurse, it might have occurred to me that this particular form of abuse was the only abuse that Charles did not consider to be a sort of pre-cognitive penance for the miseries that his siblings would later inflict upon the Markets and on the lower orders of society.

Then the Volgans invaded and all of the Sedgraves were publicly executed. If we were to be dull, we would probably guess that this was because the Volgs had it in for the landed aristocracy. And also that The Sedgrave Divorce actually meant that they would be divorced from like and that Charles was shit at pre-cogging.

[Alski]

Well that was... something.

You are a very strange man, Mr Godpleton.

[Roger Godpleton]

I've just spotted a typo. Here is the corrected final paragraph:

Then the Volgans invaded and all of the Sedgraves were publicly executed. If we were to be dull, we would probably guess that this was because the Volgs had it in for the landed aristocracy. And also that The Sedgrave Divorce actually meant that they would be divorced from liFe and that Charles was shit at pre-cogging.

[COMMANDO FORCES]

Strange indeed but interesting and by the way did you notice he put like instead of life near the end

[Kerrin]

I'm glad you changed that Roger, I was beginning to think you'd fucking lost it.

Happy to see that wasn't the case.

[Alski]

heaven forbid 

[Paul faplad Finch]

Well, I know who I'm voting for.