JAN/FEB SHORT STORY COMP - RESULTS & GN WINNERS!

[Alski]

A nice comp with some great stories, hopefully we can build on this and get the comp going strong again.

In Reverse Order...

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3RD PLACE

the Amazing, Talented, Devastatingly Handsome and Magnificently Modest...

ALSKI

We Can Rebuild Him

Roger both hated and loved channel 25874. In every City Block it was reserved for the Citi Def forces, and in Stan Lee Block Citi Def was a very serious business.

"Stan Lee Citi Def Needs YOU!" bellowed the voice over, as images of heroic citizens scrolled across the screen. Hand to hand combat, ludicrously powerful weapons, glamorous uniforms... Stan Lee Citi Def had it all, and Roger wanted a part of it, if only it were possible.

Roger, you see, was a wimp. There really is no other way to describe him, because where other people had muscles, Roger had none, where they had a six pack, Roger had a nice cup of tea. He was five foot two, wore the sort of glasses Juves just loved to steal off of him (before putting them on and going "Whoa!!! How bad's yer eyes, wimp?"), and lived with his mother. The only job he'd ever got was a practise dummy for the Jessica Fletcher Block Eldsters Self Defence Class. He couldn't keep it, though, as he couldn't even stand up when the padding had been put on him.

But today was going to be different. Roger knew in his heart that his big break was coming, and this was to be the day when he walked into the Citi Def recruitment office and wasn't laughed right back out again, all thanks to Dr Einstein.

Roger knocked tentatively on the door, which was almost immediately opened by Dr Einstein, who looked every inch the mad scientist.
"Are you alone?" he asked.
"Yes," said Roger. "Just like you asked."
"And no one knows you are here?"
"No. You said you have enemies, right?"
"Oh yes," conformed Dr Einstsin, a manic glint in his eyes. "If the Jays find out what I am doing they will take me away and force me to work for them. Come in, please."

Roger entered the apartment and did a double take. Everywhere there was scientific equipment, from bubbling beakers to a large, lighting generator, like something out of the old 2d vids his Ma liked to watch.

"On the table, please, quick smart," ordered Dr Einstein. "Time waits for no man, and neither does Citi Def glory, eh?"
"Um..." said Roger, eying the very large needle the doctor was now holding. "this IS safe, isn't it? I mean, you will make me into a, um..."
"Super soldier."
"Yes, a super soldier. It won't, well... it won't hurt much, will it?"
"Tch!" Exclaimed Dr Einstein. "Just a little prick, is all, then when you wake up it will be all muscles and things like that. You will be a captain of Citi Def, they will call you Captain Stan Lee or somesuch. Now hurry, no time to waste!"

Five minutes later, it was all over. Dr Einstein had injected Roger Stevenson with his "Super Serum", in reality an invention of his own that killed the brain stone dead whilst preserving the internal organs perfectly. Thanking Grud for gullible idiots, he took out his scalpel and got to work, for as the saying goes: "Be careful in Mega City, or your stupidity just might cost you an arm and a leg (and a kidney, and your eyes, and a liver, heart and probably testicles as well).


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2ND PLACE

The Wonderfully Witty and Devastatingly Dark...

EAMONN 1961

The Girl from 14B

We are a tight unit, the Monty James Citi-Def. Not like those drokkers from Sue Hill block. We had the right training, the right kit, and we have a code. We're the good guys who did the right thing, and didn't go in for the petty squabbles that wrecked other units on chaos day.

The Hall of Justice gave us just one Jay and one cadet. We worked through the block floor by floor and on each level the Judge read the riot act, or the warning to the furious as old Miller called it. Then we started our sweep: terminating the sick, testing the healthy, and tipping the bodies over the balconies into the catch nets. It was rough.

We were on level 27 and Judge Straub had stopped us for a 5 minute break. I heard Miller call out "Hey, Miss. You shouldn't be out here".
I turned around and saw a young girl of about 12 wearing pyjamas. The hallway was filled with blood, smoke and broken glass. It was not a safe place for a child to be wandering around barefoot. Miller moved towards her with his hands open and empty. As he stepped in front of me I lost sight of her.

Miller stopped, "Huh! Where did she go?" The corridor was empty again. We checked the corners and the stairwells but found nothing. Straub pulled us back on track, "Can't waste time looking for one child. We've got a job to do."

Two floors up and she was there again, standing and pointing silently upwards. Straub waved his gun and told her to stay where she was, but then the light must have tricked me or some smoke covered her because she just faded from view.

It was on level 30 that we finally tracked her down. She was standing outside the door to 14B, and for the first and only time she spoke, "He's behind the door and knows you are coming. He's so angry."

And then she was gone again. The Jay spoke briefly to his cadet and they used a shaped charge which hurled the door back into the apartment. Straub was fast but the red eye was still a handful, the cornered ones always were. I managed to grab the guy from behind and then the Cadet finished the job with a single shot..

Amidst the wreckage were the signs that a happy family had once lived here. We found the wife in one bedroom, and in the other the little girl. The crazed red eye had killed them both.

"That's her." I said. Straub reckoned we were just confusing one child with another but all the MJs knew the truth.

We still see her from time to time. A glimpse in the corner of an eye, a fleeting reflection in a window. She doesn't mean us any harm, in fact she's a sort of mascot now, but not one that we like to talk about.


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AND THE WINNER IS, BY A VERITABLE LANDSLIDE!

Sexy! Saucy! Seriously Splendiferous!

It's............

SMIFFY!!!

The Carousel

(Set during the Apocalypse war)

"The last bullet?"

"Yes," he said.

"But you said you'd save that for me," she replied. "Big romantic gesture, remember, sir?"

"I know but—"

"—but we've a job to do, right?"

"Right." He had tried to kill her a week earlier but now the former shuggy hall waitress in the Richard Widmark Citi-Def helmet was the only person he knew who was still alive. He patted his pockets for more bullets even though there weren't any there before looking through the sight of his rifle.

"I used to batglide from here when I was a girl, sir. Bad crosswind over there, above the pedway. And I'd land in the playground next to the Bedford Square parkarama"—she zoomed her scope in, focussing a mile and a half down—"where those Sovs are."

"Four Sovs, one bullet—who gets it?"

"The one on the left—the tall one—the one who's standing right where I used to stand, sir, when I was waiting for my daddy to collect me after I'd landed."

"So this is personal, then?"

"Yes, sir."

"Consider it done."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Try not to blow his brains out over the carousel. Juves'll never play there again if there's been brains on the carousel."

"Are you serious?"

"Never been more serious, sir. That's why I joined Citi-Def—to protect the city."

"One moment. My eyes are tired." He rubbed his eyes with his palms. He'd only joined Sidney Poitier Citi-Def because he liked holozines featuring women with big bazookas. But to be confronted by real women with big bazookas when his platoon stormed the foyer of Widmark was a different matter—it was all a blur—screams, explosions, the wet, slapping sound that half of his corporal made as he landed next to him, the churning in his stomach and the dryness in his throat when he realised that he was the only one who retreated when he gave the order, the stench like rotten Munce when he skidded on someone's spilt intestines—and what made it worse was that he couldn't remember why they'd attacked in the first place.

"And," she went on, "I know the cavalry aren't coming—we've not seen a Judge in two days—but we can't give up; not now, not ever. It's our city down there. Citi-Def's all that left, sir. We clear the playground first, then—" She shrugged. "We have to hold out until the Texans or Brits get here—and they will, trust me, because we'd do the same for them."

"We're fighting a war with one bullet between us."

"I know, sir."

He looked back through the sights. "Call the shot."

"Wind speed: eight knots. Distance: 2,657 yards. High humidity. Aim high and to the left. No, farther to the left."

"We run for cover as soon as I fire".

She nodded.

He pulled the trigger.

He was running before the Sov fell but she waited to check that there was no blood on the carousel.

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Brilliant stuff all round, and the Smiffster wins a 2000AD Graphic Novel for his trouble and talent, which will be sent from Rebellion HQ. (PM me your details please)

he can ALSO pick a theme for the next comp, so go for it matey, the more entry friendly the better!

PLUS - one lucky voter ALSO gets a GN, and the random draw picked....

AMINES2058

Please PM me your details and I will pass them on.


Thanks to all for entering and voting, long may it continue.

[amines2058]

Great news Alski and PM sent (I think). Let me know if you do not receive. Congrats to all the entrants on some great stories and Congrats to the winner. I look forward to reading next months!

[Alski]

No worries, just waiting for Smiffy's details and will send both through to the Nerve centre

[Eamonn Clarke]

Congrats, Smiffy
And to Amines
Well done, all entrants, and thanks to Alski for organising

[GrinningChimera]

Well done to everyone. Can't wait for the next one.

[Skullmo]

well done everyone! Looking forward to the next comp

[hippynumber1]

Massive congratulations to young Mr Smiffy and all you losers!  I won't miss the deadline next time either...

[Skullmo]

Yes you will! You say that every month just like me. . .

[smiffy]

Thank you for taking the time to vote for my story, gentle sirs and graceful ladies.

I would like my prize to go to the runner-up, if this is acceptable, and no offence is intended to the organiser of this competition, other participants or Rebellion but if offence is taken then I apologise in advance for this.

I have a leaden imagination and am currently unable to think of a theme for the next round... I will give this some thought and will get back to you shortly -- sorry!

[Alski]

I would like my prize to go to the runner-up, if this is acceptable,

ya know... the THIRD place entry was pretty good, deserves a prize, i would say...

nah - fairynuff, your GN will be sent to EAMONN 1961, if he would be so kind as to send me his details.

Any reason you don't want it? You were a landslide winner.

If you can't think of a topic don't worry, but let me know eitherw ay.

Cheers

[Skullmo]

I think Tales from the Doghouse would be a good topic. I used to enjoy those random Stront stories that 2000ad would run.

[Bobblehead]

 Well done to all involved and especially the winners!
Really enjoyed reading all the entrys and im looking forward to reading the next lot

[smiffy]

"Tales from the Doghouse would be a good topic" -- what Mr Skullmo suggests would be splendid theme.

[Skullmo]

Do I win a prize for that?

[Alski]

Do I win a prize for that?

Enjot it!