Skip over navigation

Writer Wars: Farewell

Sparkler Post
Writer Wars: Farewell

Hello Sparklers, Manklers, and anyone who has wandered to this little Sparkler Post of mine. Welcome to Writer Wars!

Last week, I prompted you all to let Disney influence your writing somehow. Here are the Sparklers who decided to try this out. Can you guess how they were inspired? (And by the way, Star Wars was allowed due to the whole I'm-Disney-and-I-just-bought-Lucasfilms thing that happened recently.)

Here's hammncheese94's entry:

“Twenty-seven fathoms, sir.”“Good. Set it down over there, and try not to unsettle too much.”“Yes sir.”

As she maneuvered the submarine closer to the designated area, Captain Thatch stood there, admiring the cold, icy darkness.

The year was 1944, and in the world above, Hell had unleashed its gates. The Western Hemisphere was wrapped in World War II, and here was Captain Kashekim Thatch, heir to an Empire, burrowing deeper into the sea.

His parents, King Milo and Queen Kidagakash, were rulers of the mighty Empire Atlantis. But, with them gone, Kashekim had decided that it was time to move Atlantis back beneath the waves.

“But the difference will be that I won’t hide it” Kashekim has told his colleagues.Named after Kida’s father, Kashekim had a large legacy to uphold. He knew that, if Atlantis was to survive, he would need to get creative. And then he realized. Atlanteans ruled the sea for centuries. Why not again?

And thus began his greatest endeavor, and quite possibly, his only. After he was thrust upon the throne at a timid age of 15 when his parents were lost in the Great Uprising of 1935, Kashekim has done his best to stay to himself. No longer.

When asked what he would call the project, Kashekim responded as follows.

“Is a man entitled to the sweat from his brow? No, says the man from Washington; it belongs to the poor. No, says the man in the Vatican; it belongs to God. NO, says the man in Moscow; it belongs to EVERYBODY. Well, I have rejected all of these, and, using Atlantean technology, created the impossible. A vision that even my father could never have forseen. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…” at this moment he rips down a cloth, revealing a sprawling underwater metropolis.

Gaping mouths, people in awe as they take in the sight.

“…Rapture!”

I present to you Caracupcakes' entry:

The morning of my weddingI could not help but winceFor soon I would be marriedTo the most obnoxious prince.With the bluest eyes you’d ever seeThat he’d constantly remind you ofA mirror is the only thingThis man could ever love.When finally the time had comeTo hear his arrogant droneI had thought of the perfect planTo get some time alone.If I pretend to sleep for yearsHe’d surely think me dead,I wouldn’t have face my fears,And I could dream instead.

And finally, the entry written by CanucksHockey:

There was once a giant floating space ship that was only partially built. The people who lived in the space station had something of a problem. There were incredibly annoying mice running around everywhere. The mice were actually all cyborgs with wheels for legs. This made them immpossible to catch. And the mice did not squeak. When they ran all throughout the space station, they made a whining, beeping type of sound. This was caused by the robotic parts of the mice. This drove the residents of the epic space station to the brink of insanity. Finally they called the Intergalactic Pest Control. An alien came out to figure out how to get rid of all of the mice. He whipped up a frequency transmitter that would cause the robotics tht the mice had in them to short-circuit and die. They would then jettisoned into space. It worked perfectly. The alien received 100,000 Galactic credits. However, the residents of the space station soon missed the beeping noises of the cyborg mice. So, they created little robots that ran around and served absolutely no purpose except to make an annoying beeping noise that sounds slightly like a siren. And that, my fellow Sparklers, is how the Death Star got its mouse droids.

Now, I've been doing a whole lot of thinking, and I realized that maybe it's time for me to retire. (I honestly thought I'd never have to write that out until I was in my sixties and awaiting a tropical vacation.) Writer Wars has been a ton of fun, but I'm getting busy and struggling to think of something new each week. And with the number of entries dwindling and the new SPC, I figured that maybe it's time for me to move on.

So this is my farewell to running Writer Wars. (I'll still be around Sparklife and writing other Sparkler Posts, though.) If there's someone out there that feels the need to keep it alive, then they should by all means go for it. I approve.

But I'd hate to go without giving you a prompt. I'm sure there are some of you out there who want to read and write about them. Write about any sort of goodbye. It can be any length, and you can certainly do more than one.

That's all, folks!

Tags: writer wars, writing, Goodbye, farewell

This post is user-contributed. Learn more.

Write your own comment!