Who knew asking for resignation letters would result in so much cursing? I do say though we got more drama than I had anticipated. And poetry.
1. Matt Novak
To: Dr. Francis Mospital
Chief Physician, City Hospital
Back in the past, when I was a lad
I learned soundly a lesson taught by my Dad.
“Son,” said my father, patting my noggin’
“I don’t want you working in the mines of Shaboggin.
As you well know, that’s where I’ve got my employ
And I regret to inform you, it don’t give me much joy.
So be a doctor, a dentist, own buildings or zoos!
Make a whole orchestra out of kazoos!”
Then he’d say finally,
“To be happy, be smart.”
Then my father would hug me,
and for bed he’d depart.
So I spent all my years
With a book stuck on my snoot
Earning many degrees
That now I think moot.
For though I am learned
There’s crap at the end of this route.
You treat me unkindly
I’ve asked you desist.
“Suffer for medicine!”
Is what you’d insist.
So I’ve been slaving away
Under your tutoring
But now must reveal
I’ve spent much time doodling.
I no longer want to be an M.D.
Puttering ‘round in Oncology.
No, telling stories and drawing
Are more fun to me.
And for them it seems I’ve developed a knack
Unlike this health field,
where at best I’m a quack.
So I’ll tell stories about Oobleck, Elephants, and Moose!
Signed Sincerely Yours,
B: Aw, that’s pretty cute. The meter is off in a couple of places, especially, “There’s crap at the end of this route,” though Seuss didn’t always concern himself with perfect meter. The word “crap” though seems off though given the subject. BRONZE
BD: You know, I was starting to worry this wasn’t headed anywhere, and now I find it strange that I didn’t see this coming. I enjoyed this a lot; it’s well-consructed and the ending made me smile. Good start to the round. SILVER
Gilman: All credit to the inspiration and the temerity to carry the idea through to its completion here. But as a devout Suessian, I have to confess that the moments when the rhyme scheme didn’t fall precisely on the right feet, the right scan, or (worst of all) an incomplete or near-rhyme, it stuck out like a sore Sneech. An argument could be made that this was still the incubatory period of The Doc’s talents, but that only makes the punchline rhyme switcheroo at the end feel unearned. So this earned a grin, and a bit more. BRONZE
RZ: Dr. Suess is wonderful, and this is a great idea for this entry. This is wonderfully written, and I love the idea of him dropping out in rhyme. That his birthday is coming up shortly (and that he shares a birthday with one of my kids) is icing on the cake. GOLD
Dear human race,
It is with great regret that I must resign from your people and become part of the canines. I’ve come to this decision based on but two main principles that the canine people uphold over your overly oppressed mankind. I don’t want to wear pants. And I don’t want the difficult responsibility of keeping my tongue in its moist mouthy prison. Dogs don’t care about their females showing their nipples and neither do I. Though I enjoyed my time as a functioning human, it is time for a change. I’m not sure if dogs can smoke marijuana, but if they can’t, I will train them. We will toke and love and lick one another all over. You “Can’t Stop” me. It’s my “Party in th USA.” If I could list “Seven Things” I hate about mankind, it would be that j would have to “See You,” all again. It’s been a “Climb” to reach this decision, but with the force of a “Wrecking Ball,” I hand in this, my letter of resignation.
Also, dogs can’t sing. You’re welcome.
Peace, love, lack of pants, and marijuana,
B: There’s a couple of fun descriptions here (“moist mouthy prison” especially) though the quick switch into using song titles removes the writer’s voice and changes the tone too much.
BD: A lot of the jokes are solid, but the whole canine thing is a really weird direction to take this. Also, the line about the “Seven Things” aggravates my OCD nature since it isn’t followed by an actual list, although I suppose this could be seen as Miley being an idiot. In general, Myley Cyrus strikes me as too easy a target.
Gilman: The basic idea here seems a lot weaker than I think the author thought it would. It’s a tough thing to come up with what seems like an unassailable funny idea, then try to flesh it out with more detail to make the thing read humorously all the way through. Using Miley’s song titles as bulletpoints also felt very forced and contrived. If this had been written in an attempt to really sound like Miley, or to mock her persona, that might’ve been something else entirely.
RZ: This is a cute idea, but the placement of song titles kind of ruins it for me. I laughed, but probably not enough for a medal.
Hank and Margaret,
It is with great sadness and regret that I hereby announce that I am leaving you.
I am proud to have been there shortly after your meeting at the ice cream social, and honored to have been present at the wedding, the tearful goodbyes during Hank’s tours of duty, and the births of your children. These memories will still fill you with some semblance of emotion, and you will both look back on them fondly.
I understand that neither of you were prepared for this. I can only say what I always say: I am lost in the same way that I am found – through years of acts, comments, and glances that eventually lead up to a complicated climax.
It is important for you to recognize that this doesn’t mean you have to divorce, or even separate. While you may feel unfulfilled to some degree, your odds of reaching me again are slim, and you have grown children that will not take well to such news.
I care deeply for you, and for all who have carried me with them for this amount of time. Though I will not accompany you anymore, I already ache for both of you, and will think of you often. Your story has been beautiful, despite this difficult ending.
With All of Me,
B: This one seems pretty generic until we get to the reveal at the end. Then I reread it and found it utterly heartbreaking. I love that it’s not told in black and white and lets us sit in the uncomfortable ambiguity of a loveless but functional marriage. GOLD
BD: Awww, this is brutal. Knowing that this prompt would lead to a lot of comedy, I was hoping we would get a few attempts at something more serious. This delivers that and more. The ‘I can only say’ line is a little clunky, but the prose as a whole is finely crafted. GOLD
Gilman: I thought this was going to wind up being a bit of a laugher, with the letter writer revealed to be “orgasm” or “sex drive.” Instead, the real writer’s identity delivered a bit more punch than I expected. Rereading it made some of the passages I assumed were jokey resonate a bit more with honest melancholy. You didn’t try too hard here, but you also didn’t pull the punches you did deliver. Nice. SILVER
RZ: I like the twist that the author is trying to get with this, but it seems to be off somehow (also, to be a stickler, “love” isn’t public person). On further reflect, I think the kicker is that there isn’t really a reason given for the resignation. That omission takes away from the weight of the entry.
Dear Lovers, Haters and Masturbaters,
It has become clear to me that I’m no longer needed. I can take a hint. I am ancient, not senile.
You have already made fun of me for centuries, which I thought was some kind of weird admiration.
I was wrong.
I must give you my resignation. Yes, it isn’t exactly the timeliest. But who really cares about Valentine’s Day anyway–only Hallmark and the candy companies, right?
If love is a lost art no one was a better artist than me, but, alas, you have taken it upon yourselves to no longer believe in fate or destiny. Instead you use crude tools like Tinder and speed dating to fill the void. I almost pity you, if you weren’t so stupidly desperate.
Don’t blame me. I tried. My arrows hit the mark for your mom and dad, didn’t they?
Here’s some final advice before I retire to my private island: it’s not better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. It’s better to know that love will be lost with me and when I’m gone you’ll never find it.
Unless I sell my arrows on E-bay to pay for my new condo.
You’re truly a bunch of narcissistic, spoiled, apathetic, cynical souls.
If I had to, I’d swipe left on all of you.
B: Ripping on Valentine’s Day is a bit shooting fish in a barrel. It also feels like the voice I’m hearing is the writer’s as Cupid’s character isn’t clearly defined. Why does Cupid want to live in a condo? That said, I enjoyed the line, “I’d swipe left on all of you.”
BD: This is a surprisingly similar theme to the last entry, although the tone is much different. I appreciate the topical subject, and the writing is good (although the ‘love is lost’ line needs to be two separate sentences), but as a whole this doesn’t hit the mark for me. The concept is never taken in any unexpected directions. Great last line, though. BRONZE
Gilman: That’s one bitter cherub, and I don’t know if it feels a bit more…spiteful than it needs to be? I guess the complaints Cupid expresses here could be legit, but it seems knocking down centuries of useful, fruitful artistic accomplishment just because of the advent of tinder feels a bit improbable. Still, the brusque tone is nicely consistent throughout, and it’s cute that the letter ends with “Love” despite all. BRONZE
RZ: While the idea was similar to the “lost love” entry earlier, this one carried it off much better. By assigning a personality and a swagger and giving a reason why he’s taking off now, there is a lot more depth in this entry. There are a few sentences that could use some better structure (If love is a lost art no one was a better artist than me, but, alas, you have taken it upon yourselves to no longer believe in fate or destiny, for example has commas just about everywhere but where I would put them…), but the overall tone was great. Keep up the good work! GOLD
Good People of Mainz,
The Bible cautions us against spite, Genesis 37:4 warns:
“His brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers; and so they hated him and could not speak to him on friendly terms.”
I argue my actions are not of spite, but of reciprocity. A silversmith does not trade trinkets for air any more than a cobbler mends boots without coin. Why, then, must my labor not bear with it my literary fruit?
Many clamor for sage Plato and Aeschylus’ Oresteia, but most cry for that blasted book, the Bible! A book read every holy day to the masses should also exist for private consumption, yet none speak of Gutenberg’s Tales of Frivolity and Mirth? Could not a man who created a fountain from which flows history’s greatest works also have a mind capable of crafting tales of his own? Then why do his works go unread?
This logic is sound—it is the people who are undeserving. I shall destroy this damned machine and along with it, the plans and tools used to create it. I shall retire to Grindewald to write a companion to Frivolity and Mirth.
To prove my intent, I shall first destroy a letter of this vaunted press. This is the last g that shall ever appear in type.
B: This is easily my favorite story of this young season so far. The prose is beautiful, the humor dry but wide grin inducing, and it’s the definition of original. But what takes the cake is the ending, where Gutenberg, who had previously been so eloquent, can’t help himself and removes a random letter like a spoiled child. Brilliant. GOLD
BD: This is a very clever idea that is cleverly executed. The comedy is well paced and the narrator has a consistent, distinct voice. Enjoyable, whip-smart stuff. SILVER
Gilman: Well, you learn something(s) new every day! I had no idea Guttie was an attempted author in addition to his more well known pursuits, and I can certainly see him becoming miffed and downhearted if something that was probably so close to him became quickly forgotten. Unexpected take on an unexpected angle, and delivered enjoyably. SILVER
RZ: Reason for resignation, Check. Good writing, Check. Snarky humor, Check. SILVER
This thing you do will not do
and I have had enough
Although you are grown,
you respect me no more
than a child of two.
The baby who didn’t cry
must be forgotten–
it was not made to stay.
Father, Pater, Führer,
they are all gone now.
Hiroshima blown away.
Once every decade,
why must you insist
(to touch the abyss)?
First was the accident,
then came the pills,
and what’s this?
My dear Lady Lazarus,
you don’t have nine lives,
the oven is it.
Your Corporeal Form
B: Oh, wow. On one hand, this hits hard, because I know Plath’s story. On the other hand, I never cared for Plath’s poetry, and this is more of that. SILVER
BD: I must admit, I had to Google (well, Duck Duck Go, technically) ‘Lady Lazarus’ to figure out what was going on here. I got goosebumps once I realized this was about Sylvia Plath. This is utterly fantastic, probably my favorite of the season so far. It also makes me feel bad for having never read Plath, so I should start working on that. GOLD
Gilman: Wow, I really feel like I’m missing out on an essential clue to who or what this letter refers to. It’s particularly irritating because the piece itself carries quite a heft, and pushes its grand scale without crossing over into self-importance. There’s something deep and insightful here, I think, and I just wish I could make that missing connection that I must be lacking. Chilling stuff, just a wisp away from brilliant. GOLD
RZ: I’m not quite sure how to respond. I think I get the idea here, but the writing style doesn’t lend itself to clarity. I can tell you are writing poetically, but I am not sure how it is supposed to further the entry.
I am so fucking sick of everyone in this fucking house. You always wonders why I’m angry, but it should be sooooo goddamn obvious. You’re the worst bunch of motherfucking roommates a guy could ask for. Cunt goblins, the lot of you. You’re either incompetent as shit, lazy and never helping out with the work, getting fucking germs on me, or are just flat out retarded. You know what? I can handle that. But what I can’t handle is letting that stupid bitch stay here. SHE’S USING US. You really think she’s gonna fuck you ugly motherfuckers?
Oh, another thing. What’s with all the singing? You little fairies seem to get off on that shit, but it’s not cute. You see other groups of men just breaking out into song? I’m moving somewhere where I don’t have to put up with this hot bullshit. That’s right, knob gobblers, consider this me quitting. I’m taking my cut of the loot and leaving.
So play your little games and dance around with that tramp some more. I’ll tell you thick bastards one more time: She’s trouble. I’m done protecting her. Snow White can fuck right off.
Suck a dick,
B: I think it goes a bit overboard on the curse words where more eloquent insults would have worked better. But referring to the other dwarfs as “little fairies” made me smile and I chortled at “Suck a dick.” Also, “can fuck right off” sounds a bit British, which is a good thing. BRONZE
BD: Hah! This is a decent payoff, and the portrayal of Grumpy as extremely vulgar and slightly bigoted is pretty funny. I think the Snow White line is a little heavy handed, but otherwise this is solid comedy.
Gilman: Yeah, I caught on to the writer’s identity about two paragraphs in, and it’s a cute little piece even if I saw it coming. Lots of swearing to get that Anti-Disney shock value in there. I wonder if a final twist identifying the writer as Doc or Dopey would’ve worked. Well, in any case, I bet it was fun to write. BRONZE
RZ: For whatever reason, I never really figured Grumpy would be so obscene. I think the story would be better served to use more creative negative words instead of just defaulting to to profanity. Then, if you so decided to escalate at the end by swearing, it would have more weight.
FROM: GARY BUSEY
TO: SOCIAL AND PHYSICAL LAWS……FABRICATED BY UNDEAD HUMAN PUPPET KINGS……WHICH IMPRISONS THE COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS AND SEPERATES US FROM THE LIGHT
FROM HENCEFORTH IT SHALL BE KNOWN…………..I GARY BUSEY AM CUTTING THE CHORDS FROM THE PUPPET MASTER WHO DANGLES ME TO DANCE ON THE WORLD’S STAGE AT WHICH THE WAKING UNDEAD LOB THEIR BURNING GAZE WHAT WILL HE DO NEXT WHAT WILL HE DO NEXT I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I’M DOING NEXT I’M STRIPPING MYSELF OF THE SHACKLES FORCED UPON MY MIND LIKE RUSTY BARS ON A STARVING CIRCUS ANIMAL AND STANDING NAKED STARING INTO THE SILENT VOID FROM WHICH NOTHING STARES BACK I AM SOBERING MYSELF FROM THE OPIUM OF GOD MORTALITY LAW COUNTRY FAMILY THAT ONCE KEPT ME FEELING SAFE IN MY BED TWO DOORS DOWN FROM THE DARK ROOM WHERE SATAN DEVELOPS HIS NEGATIVES AND THE ANGEL OF DEATH HOLDS A BLACK MIRROR BLINDING US TO OUR WORLD OF HORROR…….ONCE I RELEGATE THE TRUTH TOTAL RELIANCE UPON TOTALITARIAN HYMNS TO THE REMOTEST COMPARTMENT OF MY MIND I WILL STEP INTO THE BLOOD-RED WATERS OF CHAOS AND OUT OF THE PINEWOOD DERBY WHERE FATHERS STABILIZE AND COMPARTMENTALIZE THE YOUTH INTO AN ATTIC OF CONSPIRACY AND SILENCE…….ANY VOICES IN MY HEAD TELLING ME DON’T SCREAM AT BARKING DOGS DON’T STARE INTO BABIES’ SOULS UNTIL YOUR EYES BURN ARE FROM THIS POINT FORWARD……..SILENT.
B: Oh man. This has the risk of being a one-trick pony, especially with such an easy target in Busey. But it hits a lot of high notes, especially the tangent about the pinewood derby and SILENT. SILVER
BD: Gary Busey, like Miley Cyrus, seems like an easy target. But the execution of the idea is flawless, and I found myself enthralled with this by the end. Some lovely word vomit in here. SILVER
Gilman: Eh…okay. Seems to me that a gonzo actor with addiction issues and brain injury due to severe trauma may be a bit of an easy target. Maybe even a sitting duck. But there was a certain inertia that carried the stream of consciousness throughout, and there’s something to be said for commitment to a wildly uncommon writing style.
RZ: So, from Wikipedia, I gather he doesn’t really have a filter. After reading that, this entry makes a lot more sense. This is incredibly difficult to read, which hurts it. Along with my total lack of modern actor knowledge, this doesn’t do too much for me. I do find myself hoping that someone else gives a medal to this one, but I just don’t know the reference enough to do it justice.
To My Fellow Offic’rs:
It is with great regret that I tender my resignation from the Navy.
I have proudly served my country for 53 years, but in light of recent allegations, I must crunchatize away.
Before I sail on, I’d like to set the record straight, as a lot of misinformation has become twisted with the facts.
Yes, I did falsify certain military records. The Berry Shark that I claimed to have heroically defeated in 1994 was nothing more than a normal innocent shark. Also, the Peanut Butter Octopus was a regular octopus… possibly a squid. Actually, it’s safe to assume that all animals I defeated were just normal sea creatures that posed no apparent threats to our fleet.
Do not think I took these acts of deception lightly. The guilt has been cutting at the roof of my mouth for years. I have dishonored every Naval rank, from Admir’l, to Seam’n, to Mast’r Ch’f Pet’y Offic’r.
BUT, I vehemently deny allegations of inappropriate conduct with the young men and women in the offshore Naval Fellowship Program. I did nothing but teach those future leaders the necessary requirements of the Navy: eating healthy, rolling eyes at adults, and saving enough box tops to earn prizes.
I hope to always remain a yummy part of a balanced breakfast within all your hearts.
B: A fun subject, though many jokes don’t have much bite. My favorite part is the recurring apostrophe jokes. It’s one that gets better the more you beat it into the ground, and I wish you had done it more. BRONZE
BD: Okay, this gives itself away WAY too early. Still, there’s a enough funny stuff in here to pull it through. In particular, the ‘guilt has been cutting at the roof of my mouth’ line is comedy gold, and “Mast’r Ch’f Pet’y Offic’r” had me giggling. Cute and contagious humor. BRONZE
Gilman: So, what’s the difference between an effective silly-idea-expanded and an ineffective one? I dunno what it takes, but you know it when you see it, both as a writer and as a reader. Like the Miley Cyrus entry, this one was a simple concept which the writer then attempted to blow out to ridiculous proportions. In this case, the laughs came, and the references peppered throughout stayed fresh and unexpected. Guilt cutting at the roof of my mouth is one of the funnier lines we’ve had this season. GOLD
RZ: Now this is a twist I can get behind. I was wondering what officer this could be while reading it and was surprised by good old Cap’n Crunch.SILVER
Dear Dr. Lecter:
It is with regret I find I must tender my resignation. While I have learned many valuable skills during my time as your assistant, I do not feel that my personal goals and aspirations are being nourished in your employ.
Despite my expressed intent on reducing to fit back into my best suit, you have been stuffing me with delicious snacks and providing luxurious meals. (I will say, the rosemary oil you most generously concocted for me has indeed made my skin smooth and fragrant, but I still must be able to fasten my trousers!)
But on a more serious note, while I do admire your methods of practice, I find that you are not able to provide a long-term approach to treating patients. Oddly, it seems you are only able to treat patients for a few weeks before they move away.
I hope I can rely upon you for a positive reference in my quest for a mentor. I have decided to relocate to Tacoma, Washington. My Aunt, Louise Bundy, has offered me room and board in exchange for tutoring her little Teddy. I will be able to take my time in finding the right position.
I will miss our late night philosophical debates over wine and pấte.
With Regret and Best Wishes;
B: I really wanted to love this one, but it doesn’t tread any new ground. Yep, Lecter eats people. I’m intrigued by the reference to Ted Bundy, but I don’t really get how it fits in.
BD: I wasn’t too enthused with this idea at first, but the part about Ted Bundy is really clever. Poor Franklin, you are one unlucky bastard. BRONZE
Gilman: And back to a funny nugget that doesn’t really expand well. It may be that I’m just not too familiar with the Hannibal television show, and there are more details in it that I’d identify reading this. But as it is, it’s just a cute take on someone who is unknowingly fed human flesh. The mention of Ted Bundy was a cute idea, but getting to it was a little labored.
RZ: Interestingly, a wikipedia search for Franklin Conlin doesn’t result in anything. While Lector and Ted Bundy are obvious references, I was surprised that I didn’t see him. With that said, the writing and references are clever and give a clear idea of why he is leaving. BRONZE
Casa De Leche
10 milk road
Wherever this is
Dear whoever is bothering to read this,
I regrettably must inform you of my intent to resign from my position as Supreme Leader of CDL. As much as it is entertaining, my beer drinking time is severely compromised by you all constantly pestering me for survivor results, or werewolf, or a new Play With The Prose game. Therefor, I must take drastic action and step down as host. Being in charge of you all for the last 10 years has been somewhere between fun and awful, but it is time I move on to new horizons and more beer drinking time. I have decided nominate Novak to take over my position as Supreme Leader of CDL. I am sure he will do a fine job, even if he never has been the same since getting thrown in Big Brother 2. But, really, pick whomever you want. Just NOT COLIN. Please. More rule-filled werewolf is just not necessary. I am saddened to have to make this decision, but I feel it is best for everyone involved. I wish you the best in surviving the new rein to come, and I hope to meet you all in a bar sometime soon.
B: Yay, meta! Don’t you know, though, that Kelly likes being pestered to start new games? My favorite joke is “wherever this is.”
BD: Hey, it’s our first meta story of the season! This is a loving wink-and-nod to the proprietor of CdL, but much like Kelly, I find myself not especially fond of meta stories.
Gilman: I can’t tell if the horrifying misuse of “rein” at the end was meant to be a little dig at Wells, or if it’s the actual author dropping the ball here. Either way, it’s another idea that reaches the “cute” level without becoming “cutting” or “satirical” or “uproarious.” Frankly, this feels exactly like something Wells would do. Just not with a formal letter.
RZ: In jokes are always a good fit. I somehow imagine that Kelly would be more verbose and would use better spacing. Having one solid block of text does make readability somewhat more difficult. BRONZE
FROM: JERRICA BENTON, Owner, Manager, CFO of STARLIGHT MUSIC
TO: STARLIGHT MUSIC BOARD OF DIRECTORS
I, Jerrica Benton, hereby resign as Owner, Manager, and CFO of Starlight Music, as much as it pains me to do so.
My father bequeathed to me Synergy, which we all know is the number one audio-visual entertainment synthesizer in the world. I feel that despite all of its efforts to fight off do-badders, it is only one machine. It needs the support and backing of a board such as yourselves. Of which we- JEM and the Holograms- have yet to receive.
Last weekend’s Battle of the Bands proved just that, after being sabotaged by The Misfits, yet again, and that super-cunt, Pizzazz. I have repeatedly expressed my concerns to you, but to no avail.
Effective immediately, Kimber, Aja, and Shana, AKA THE HOLOGRAMS, will no longer exist under the STARLIGHT MUSIC umbrella.
Rio, my hot boyfriend, will no longer act as road manager/engineer for any STARLIGHT MUSIC production. (He may not be acting as anything soon if he cannot keep his thingie in his pants.)
Lastly, that brings me to: All of you are too vapid to realize that I am indeed JEM, that my earrings possess powers in them.
I thank you for your service, despite your inabilities to do or see anything.
Jerrica Benton, AKA JEM
B: Honestly I have never seen one second of Jem and the Holograms. Doesn’t matter. This is a fantastic resignation letter. Just a lot of delicious language, from “do-badders” to “my hot boyfriend” and “my earrings possess powers in them.” Like the cheerleading story from last week, I couldn’t stop smiling. GOLD
BD: I do love me a good Jem and the Holograms reference, but this definitely hits you over the head. A little more subtlety and this would be in medal territory. Reading this, I imagined that The Misfits were the real life band and that the Holograms were being sabotaged by Glen Danzig.
Gilman: This was a nice little piece, funny in enough places and laced with a decent, earned bit of venom that it felt like it could have come from the original character, or a fan of the recent horror-show reboot, or anyone who just felt like doing a little fan fiction. “Super-cunt Pizzazz” has a nice ring to it too. BRONZE
RZ: I got the reason behind the resignation, but there was a lot of text here that didn’t add a lot to the story in my mind. Because of that, it seemed to drag a bit near the end. Not a bad story, but it just fell a bit short this week.
Dear Illuminati Board of Directors,
It should not have come to this. The last ten years under my reign have been our most prolific. Without me, Obama would not have been elected, police officers would not face persecution, and we would have been felled by many more years of Michael Jackson’s poor behavior. I have proven that I can create and cleanly eradicate.
Yet my insistence upon rewriting one rule is cause for forced resignation. Yes, two hundred years ago, it made sense for our public figures to saturate their words and deeds with coded messages. We would never have had the beauty of the American Constitution without it. In the age of the Internet, however, it’s ridiculous. Now, thanks to our public “advertisements”, we will be undone by Tumblr, Buzzfeed, and IlluminatiWatchdog.com. I was fierce at the Super Bowl, but what do people notice most? They notice the All Seeing Eye that got worked into my dance moves. Now, instead of recruiting more Black citizens to rise up and enslave the soon-to-be unarmed masses (also my doing), I am forced to step down for fear of drawing more attention to usr.
My only comfort is that, despite your best efforts, I will continue to have influence. Best believe I will train my daughter in the art, too. Blue, Illuminati’s Very Youngest, will be fully prepared when she comes into succession.
I hereby officially resign.
Good luck with the New World Order, bitches.
B: The Illuminati are just one step down from the Scientologists (and Michael Jackson for that matter) as far as easy jokes go. I do like the one about coded messages and the constitution; at that point I was kind of hoping it was eviscerating Dan Brown.
BD: The idea of Beyonce being a member of the Illumaniti is inspired, but a lot of the humor falls a little flat. The ‘soon to be unarmed’ joke, for instance, is just way too far from reality to work. Also, I do not take kindly to cheap shots against Michael Jackson.
Gilman: This one has me gritting my teeth a bit too, as there’s a slight and unfortunate undercurrent that suggests the Illuminatus cabal is tied up in Black American culture, which…can lead to some unfortunate conclusions about what this author’s trying to imply. I dunno, maybe that thread of unwholesomeness is meant to pop out at you, considering how insidious the Illuminati are supposed to be. Also, it’s not really clarified what that “one rule” that Bey rewrote is meant to be.
RZ: This falls a bit on the political joaking end of things, which kind of hurts the overall idea. It is well written, but gets kind of long in the middle. A break on the paragraph would be help the overall flow and readibility. Good entry, but the competition was pretty stiff this week. This fell just short of a medal.
Dear Lost Boys,
I’ve decided to retire from the gang. It’s an idea that’s been nagging me for a long time, but I kept putting it off. You know, just one more big adventure! Just one more. We had so many great adventures, didn’t we?
But now I’m ready.
Thudbutt, you’re in charge. You were off the Hook – HA! – in that last fight. The Lost Boys need a leader like you.
Tinkerbell’s going to be upset when she hears that I’m leaving. You boys take care of her, and don’t ever take her for granted. Some of the magic will dry up once I leave, so you’re going to need her to keep this place awake.
Everyone’s going to want to know why, but it’s hard to explain. It’s not you, of course! It’s not Wendy. It’s not that ticking crocodile or those bubble-blowing mermaids. It’s not even Hook or Smee or the Jolly Roger.
It’s just I’ve been watching the stars, and one by one they’re blinking out. I’m having trouble navigating.
But you’ll be all right! And don’t worry about me.
To die will be an awfully big adventure.
B: When I thought this was a letter from Peter Pan I was feeling it was pretty ho-hum. I generally don’t like all of my expectations flipping based on the final sentence, but I’ll give this one some slack. Robin Williams has often been the target for jokes here. It’s nice to see a bittersweet story. The line about the stars is a brutal metaphor for depression. SILVER
BD: Oh, the feels! I was already enjoying this when I thought it was about Peter Pan, as it seemed to really adhere to the spirit of the character. This made the twist very unexpected for me, but the writing is sincere enough to pull it off. It is a very fine line to walk with a concept like this, and you did it well. GOLD
Gilman: Whoof, that signature caught me off guard. Right in the solar plexus. It’s funny because, to me, Williams was never really Pan. I’m kind of amazed to see how much that film resonated for people. Regardless, this one feels honest and on-track all the way through, and it’s just as likely to have sprung from the pen of Peter as it would from Robin. That makes the final gut-punch land ever so effectively. Nice. GOLD
RZ: I may be sentimental, but this was very touching. It was well written and used the format to really convey emotion well. GOLD
Dear Pres. B. Reasts,
I regret to inform you of my resignation from Head Support Technician. The pressure has become overwhelming, and I am past my prime. I have stretched myself thin trying to support you in your endeavors and I fear that my breaking point is near.
I’ve been racked with indecision but I must be the one to take action because I believe you would continue to use me until I snap.
I encourage you to look for firm convictions, and flexibility in my replacement. In your search please remember to look past their beauty and find someone who will hold you up the way that I used to.
It’s not you, it’s me.
B: I was wondering if we were going to have a sexy pun based story this week. You guys don’t disappoint.
BD: Now this is just silly. There’s nothing wrong with this except that it’s short and to the point. That’s not enough to stand out in another strong week.
Gilman: That little trick of trying to “sneakily spell” a character’s name like this one does at the start really isn’t as effective as writers have seemed to think it is. In any case, this was nothing I didn’t anticipate once I worked out the addressee, and it came down to tit-joke upon tit-joke.
RZ: Short and succinct, while clearly writing the reason for resignation. Good job! It lacks a bit of the depth of other stories, but keeps the right length for the complexity of the entry. BRONZE
To: The United States District Court for the District of Wyoming
It is with great sadness that I issue this letter of resignation.
The many beautiful years that I have given to this district have been sullied by the gross mismanagement and corrupt policies that I see as a poison to our great nation.
I have been faithful since the beginning. I have been honest and I have given everything to this, this dump. I apologize for being harsh, but my blood is up.
Honestly, you know what? After first Grant and then Ted left, this place has gone to shit. Albeit slowly, but still. We used to be revered. We used to be looked upon in awe.
Now all these fucks care for is spectacle and convenience. I am so tired of the endless fat-assed, Birkenstock-wearing, tie-dyed hippie cunts filing through here like they’re in line at a fast food joint, complaining about waiting for whatever it is they’re waiting for. Fucking idiots.
If they only knew the pressure I’m under in this job. I could take them all out. I could. It would be nothing. Nothing at all.
I swear to god if I have to do this dog and pony show for them one more time I’m going to FUCKING EXPLODE!!!!!!!!
I. Fucking. Quit.
Yellowstone National Park
B: I’m having a hard time reconciling the subject (a beautiful park) and the language (fucking cunts).
BD: I had no idea where this was headed, and the reveal is decent. Personifying an entire park as a vulgar disgruntled employee is certainly an interesting concept. I must admit, though, that I find jokes about hippies (and hipsters, too) to be very unappealing.
Gilman: Again, I don’t get much more than a surface level chuckle at understanding who’s the speaker here. The difference in tone was a nice touch, given the attraction the author is hinting at, but really there’s not a lot here that felt much beyond a weird bit of apostrophizing.
RZ: Now this story does a good job of escalating intensity leading to profanity. Along with the geological references, this is an entertaining read. It could be better with a bit of formatting, but it is well written.SILVER
“There are too many idiots in this world. And having said it, I have the burden of proving it.”
― Frantz Fanon
I, Francine Desdemona Carrington-Hubbard, first recipient of Purposeful Re-Alignment of Genetic Sequencing (PRAGS), am submitting my removal from both the program and the “caretakers” you’ve employed.
The numerous insults, mental abuses, and countless indignities I’ve suffered at the hands of the bumbling duo of assistants you’ve supplied have made my current situation wholly intolerable.
Please remove all photographic evidence of my previous residence, and remove the nameplate from my domicile’s portal (sparkling Comic Sans? Is that what you really think of me?). And for the love of god, please burn that hideous Pretty Patty Pony Potty Chair, which quite frankly demeans us all.
While I am certainly self-sufficient, I am going to require a small severance package to cover these next few months. Towards that end, I’ve liberated several Choco-yum bars from the pantry (your doorknob opening countermeasures have been laughable for some time now) and a handful of yogurt tubes from the icebox. This veritable cache of rations should hold me for some time to come.
I plan to head for the local park and we’ll see where things take me from there.
Au revoir, imbeciles!
[Eds. Note: reflects actual intention of writer, though may resemble unintelligible crayon doodles to others]
B: I love the idea here, though I think some of the ideas are possibly too complex for that of a toddler (especially the genetic coding thing), and for a while I thought this was an adult. Love the part about the doorknob. For the prose, I give this my last medal. BRONZE
BD: Now, jokes about Comic Sans I will take any day. This is sweet, and I like to imagine that my son thinks in a voice similar to this. In the end there’s really not much to this, but it’s told well enough. BRONZE
Gilman: I appreciated how the author approached the chosen tone—which could’ve felt like a mere stunt—and carried it through to the end, without degrading into a bunch of baby-talk or speculation about diaper changes and so forth. It balances the gravity of what the speaker obviously believes to be the position she’s in with the ridiculousness of the facts of the situation. Whether that editor’s note at the end was needed, I don’t know, but it did add a nice late laugh to the proceedings. SILVER
RZ: The world in the eyes of a two year old. Very nice story and a creative take on the subject. BRONZE
Once we again we come just short of a quad gold. Congratulations to Margaret for taking the top spot this week with three gold medals. Brendan and Christina do well, and Kelly gets off the schneid with some gold medals of his own.
Once again we had four non-subs. Ian (who was in first place), Brooks (again), Bret, and Zack (who I’m not sure is actually playing).
Spreadsheet update and next post up tomorrow. Thanks again for another great week!