TITLE: Passion Between the Posts: "Writers Gone Wrong"
SUBJECT: 'Play' and 'Football'




CAST
SwitchBlade - male, 28, usually laid back except when grammar and spelling are involved
MUGATO - female, 17, obsessed with artistic integrity and all things French
Reaper87 - male, 19, likes to use overt gore and violence
MerryWhether - female, 56, Administrator, bossy, fond of alliteration and puns
LadyLuvalot - female, 33, a yearning romantic, slightly dim
PageMaster - male, 26, a newer member, whiny, but shows promise
MaskedPoet - male, 40, short on words and talent but high in sincerity, in love with LadyLuvalot

SETTING
MerryWhether's coffeeshop, Gone To Ground, afterhours on an early Sunday evening - the first RL meeting of LAST WRITES, an online amateur writer's group

MerryWhether: I hope everyone likes blueberry muffins. They were only $3.99 per dozen at the bakery. Oh, and there's still plenty of coffee to go round.
PageMaster: I hate blooburies. Where's the cheezecake? I was promissed cheezecake!
MerryWhether: Now, now. An executive decision was made to forego extravagance and apply the savings toward this evening's prize.
MUGATO: I love blueberries, but they'd be better with, say... a brioche or a croissant. N'est-ce pas?
Reaper87: Give it a rest, will you? This Gallic affectation is wearing thin.
MUGATO: 'Affectation'? Look who's talking, 'Gothboy'.
Reaper87: Hey, I like black.
MaskedPoet: LadyLuv, may I butter your muffin?
LadyLuvalot: That's okay. I'm used to doing it myself.
SwitchBlade: So, MW... what say you and I grab a real drink afterwards.
MerryWhether: But I'm old enough to be your mother. Your grandmother. Your great grandmother. Oh, and I'm married.
SwitchBlade: Eh. That just adds to the appeal.
MerryWhether: The age thing or the marriage thing?
SwitchBlade: Yep.
MerryWhether: *Ahem* Everybody comfy? Good! A big THANK YOU to all our local members at LAST WRITES' first groupmeet here at Gone To Ground. It's bean a pleasure! Now that we're better acquainted, let's begin our writing exercise. *THUD*
MUGATO: A dictionary? Mon dieu! Art cannot be defined by a book.
Reaper87: But, what a book.
MerryWhether: Impressive, isn't it? And worth every penny. Just look at the quality!
Reaper87: I would if I could lift it.
MerryWhether: Now! This is a poetry contest and the subject is 'Football' - 'tis the season and all - with a wordlimit of 25.
Reaper87: What the hell?
LadyLuvalot: Did she say twentyfive words?
PageMaster: Scroo yoo!
MerryWhether: Who said that?! Nevermind! The winner, by popular vote, gets to take home a giftcard worth $50, plus whatever muffins are leftover! So let's grab our pencils and kickoff. You have 10 minutes, starting... now!

*SCRIBBLE, SCRIBBLE*

MerryWhether: Time's up! Pencils down! I'll start, then we'll work our way clockwise. *Ahem*

Clawing cleats clench turf creating crying clumps
Holding a huddle has happiness healing the hurts
From this fostered fallow field they'll find freesia flowering forth


Reaper87: Errr...
LadyLuvalot: Brava! That's wonderful, MW!
MerryWhether: Oh, pshaw. 'Twas nothing, really.
Reaper87:

Players run the field
Zombies eat their brains
Stadium screams
Helmets drip blood
A sea of entrails
Floods the world
Saturating Earth
Making more zombies


MerryWhether: Hmmm... fascinating, Reaper. The subtle message of human savagery as a universal sickness was made even more effective by the hint of nausea it induced. Excellent! Now, it's MP's turn. Go on, don't be shy.
MaskedPoet:

Lady of my love
I love lots
Take me - I am yours


MerryWhether: So concise! Your use of the haiku form is masterful! Unfortunately, as usual, you've forgotten to use the assigned topic. I'm afraid your verse is disqualified. Still, an impressive bit of poetic brevity. Don't you agree, LL?
LadyLuvalot: Huh? Oh, sorry! I was fighting off a sneeze.
MUGATO:

They play a game
Then bend the rules
Penalty!
They tackle you
Then take the bag of beignets you brought for brunch in French class
Penalty!
Stupid boys.


MerryWhether: The intensity! The alliteration! The extra words! Disqualified!
MUGATO: Zut alor! You can't put limits on art, you know.
LadyLuvalot:

Alone. All alone.
Half a being
Searching for completion
My loins await a coming touchdown!
Scoring alone can fulfill this need
Love alone. All alone.

*Sob*

MaskedPoet: That was perfect, LadyLuv! You've got my vote!
MerryWhether: That was, indeed, a supremely heartfelt piece. The juxtaposition of sports and love was simply brilliant. I think.
SwitchBlade:

When the Panthers scored those goals
Chips were tossed up high. OHNOES!
From that beercan littered floor
I picked them up with my ten toes.


Reaper87: Too anemic, SB. How about "from the corpse-strewn floor-"
MUGATO: 'Gothboy', if everyone used cadavers we'd never be able to reach the muffins.
PageMaster: Hrmph. That wood be fine by me.
MerryWhether: PM, your attitude is unsportsmanlike. Either adjust it, or... put a mouthguard in it!
PageMaster:

It's time to play
Their on the feild
These fools will pay
'Cause this gun I weild!

*CLICK*

MUGATO: SACRE BLEU!
Reaper87: Great. One of us actually is a psycho.
MerryWhether: Put that thing down! Did I say you could bring firearms? Really, PM! I am very, very vexed! You are this close to getting suspended.
PageMaster: Ha! I dooped you all! I'm not PageMaster. I'm FlamingKwill!
LadyLuvalot: Who's 'FlamingKwill'? Wait a minute... weren't you banned?
PageMaster: Unfairly!
MaskedPoet: 'Unfairly' my ass. Oh... pardon my language, LadyLuv.
MerryWhether: Indeed. Your threats and abusive behavior were plenty cause for getting cut.
PageMaster: I was justifide! Now, prepair to bite it, Switchypoo!
SwitchBlade: But I'm not even a moderator.
LadyLuvalot: Wouldn't it make more sense to shoot the administrator?
Reaper87: True. If any of us is to be murdered it should be MerryWhether.
MerryWhether: Hey, now, hold on!
SwitchBlade: It's coming back to me. You're the guy who wrote "Stepping in a potwhole, I spilleded chowder upon my dickey".
PageMaster: And your the guy what said my riting was craptackuler. That my whatsit was sumthingorother. That my thingummy was whatchacallit. That-
SwitchBlade: That your grammar was on par with a second-grader's? That your spelling just plain sucked? That exposure to your tripe was akin to being force-fed Lawrence Welk's 'Greatest Polka Hits' albums 1 through 12 on repeat with the volume at max?
PageMaster: Yeah! Thats it! Tuff words from someone who ain't even a modderater.
SwitchBlade: Sheesh. I didn't think you'd take it so personally. And 'ain't' isn't proper English. Besides, my critique was the kindest.
PageMaster: Thats why their are six bullets in the gun. But first... the last thing yool all be hearing is my latest and greatestest poem "Whitherfore goest the nasal flooids?"
MUGATO: Reaper, take him down!
Reaper87: Why me?
MUGATO: You're on your school's Karate team, right? Use your moves.
Reaper87: I lied. I'm in the Chess club. I doubt my 'Look! it's Bobby Fischer!' move will work here.
PageMaster: "Dried up sinus canals, soooooo parched and raw-"
LadyLuvalot: It's not fair! To die without ever experiencing Grand Passion!
MaskedPoet: *SMOOOOOCH*
LadyLuvalot: MP! Why I... mmmm... oh my.... *SMOOCH*
MUGATO: Eeeeww... Stop! I don't want the last thing I see to be old people making out.
PageMaster: "Your like an ocean, 0nly without watter, so your more like a DESSERT, but you ain't got any sand-"
SwitchBlade: That does it. MP, a little help here.
MaskedPoet: *SMOO-* Oh, right. Forgive me, LadyLuv. *BOING* *FWAP*
PageMaster: GAHH! I'm blinded!
LadyLuvalot: *Ahem* Yes, well, a couple of 40D cups in the face will do that to you.
MUGATO: Bien! I've got the gun!
MerryWhether: Good teamwork, everyone! Now, someone call the pol- No, SB! Not the dictionary!
SwitchBlade: It's 'aren't' not 'ain't'! *THWACK* Get that through your thick head! *THWACK, THWACK*
Reaper87: Whoa, dude, leave some for the authorities.
MerryWhether: Give that to me! Grrrr... it's got blood on it!
SwitchBlade: Hey, I was provoked. So, uh, who gets 'MVP'?

..........

LAST WRITES
Announcements


Groupmeet Enjoyed by (Nearly) All

Firstly, commiserations to PageMaster who was prevented from attending the event due to car trouble. Let's hope his slashed tires, punctured gas tank, and broken windshield are soon good as new.

Despite threats of imminent death and gut-curdling poetry, our members are not unforgiving. Therefore, we are putting together a nice blueberry muffin carebasket for FlamingKwill to enjoy during his incarceration.

As for the contest, I am pleased to say it was unanimously decided that there was no clear winner, and that the Prize money should be donated towards a new dictionary for Gone To Ground. This will come in handy since, due to the success of our first local groupmeet, from now on, it will be a monthly event!

Our most joyous announcement, of course, is the impending nuptials of LadyLuvalot and MaskedPoet. Invitations are forthcoming for a special reception to be held at Gone To Ground. And there will most definitely be cheesecake!

Our last item is the procurement of LAST WRITES' new moderator, SwitchBlade. After making a smashing impression in wielding the good word on behalf of the English language, it was decided that he'd be just the person to handle onboard matters, as well. You could say the groupmeet was SB's defining moment.