The Weekly LitWit Challenge 7.5: What is going on here? (Read the entries)
Oops, we got the date of the deadline wrong. Submit your entries by 11.59 pm tonight, November 7, 2011.
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Here’s one of the etchings from Picasso’s Suite Vollard, on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Manila at the Central Bank complex on Roxas Boulevard, Manila, starting 10 November.
What is going on here? Make up a story in 1,000 words or less and post it in Comments on or before Monday, 7 November 2011, at 11.59 pm. The winner will receive these three books:
An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin, The Magicians by Lev Grossman, and Why I Am So Wise (Ecce Homo) by Friedrich Nietzche.
The Weekly LitWit Challenge is brought to you by our friends at National Bookstore.
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The winners of the Weekly LitWit Challenge 7.5: Spy Story are juned and strange attractor313. We didn’t get many entries—the espionage tale is a demanding genre—but we are very pleased with these two. strangeattractor313, you get a bonus for spinning off an episode in the Smiley books. Apart from the fresh copy of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, you will receive Spymistress: The Life of Vera Atkins, The Greatest Female Secret Agent of World War II by William Stevenson.
Congratulations! Please post your full names in Comments (They won’t be published) and we’ll alert you when you can pick up your prizes at National Bookstore, Power Plant Mall, Rockwell, Makati. Or you can claim them at the 5th anniversary cocktails on November 10—let us know if you can make it.
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
October 31st, 2011 at 15:04
i really enjoyed strangeattractor’s entry. congratulations! :)
November 3rd, 2011 at 15:40
This being an entry for LitWit Challenge 7.5:
“What is with this noise, Coprophagius?” Having recently come out of the bath, the lady Domitia has not exactly fixed herself for the evening. Being a woman given leeway by her husband, the patrician Coprophagus Encephaliti, to entered the master’s bedroom and use it according to her fancy, it was a surprise for her to find the place far more crowded than usual.
“Ah, my dear, you have just come in time,” Coprophagus addressed her. Seeing him in his bare bearish physique, adorned with a garland of flowers picked from the nearby pottery, she wondered whether another of his hairbrained fancies brought about by senility came up to mind again. One look, though, at the fact that their three adolescent sons, Pithecophagus, Penetratus and Pederastus were grappling at each other in the bed, affirmed it.
“Exactly what is ‘in time’ with this excessive display of male gyrations, my dear?” She was not disappointed with the concept of gyrations occuring (of course, she would have begun it anyway); only, the nagging idea that her husband has begun taking interest into the flesh of her sons quite disturbed her, to say the least.
Sniggering quite maliciously, the master of the house said: “Ah, you little minx, what were you thinking? You cannot hide anything in those malicious eyebrows of yours,” immediately gesturing her to come sit by his side. Having proceeded au naturel from the bath, she looks, indeed, quite fitting to be part of such a tableau.
Handing Domitia another garland which he made, he then cooed into her ear: “You see, I do appreciate my retirement from public scrolls for the past months that I think I need some relaxation. And what, I think you do too.” Domitia took offense, having quite a prideful nature when it comes to her beauty (slowly fading at that). He, of course, immediately pinched her nose playfully and said: “Come on, my beloved, that uptight behavior is what makes you age all the more these days. You seem to have become more and more intolerable with other people, I wager.”
Domitia, with her pride slowly melting in the patronizing tongue of her husband, snobbily plopped herself in the bed, saying “And what can you do about it? I’m not getting any younger, anyway. And you haven’t answered the question as to why are you making our children do an impromptu pankration demonstration here?”
At this point the youngest, Pederastus, blurted out, fresh from having been tossed in the air: “Oh mother, don’t worry, we are just about done instructing father. We would like to think he’s just about ready. What say we let him learn by practice, my brothers?” His elder siblings grinned mischievously (or at least the elder Penetratus tried to, with his neck still sore from the grappling) and left… but not without making themselves comfortable in a peeping hole outside the room they prepared.
The lady of the house was confused. “What ‘instruction’ can you even expect from your own children?”
At that instant, Coprophagus pulled her quite violently from his side and held her in a chokehold. “What else can you think, my dear? It’s about time we fan some embers now, don’t we,” while gazing intently into her eyes.
Finally getting an idea, the lady Domitia smirked, “you old bull.”
While the elderly couple are having their own pankration contest, the three younglings, being virile males as they are, took some time in crude observation.
“Shall we rate it by length of duration or by the number of reversals?,” Penetratus inquired.
“Oh will you please stop the professional wrestling jargon already, my brother,” Pithecophagus whispered. “Let’s enjoy this particular opportunity to actually infer as to how we were assembled, shall we? I doubt we have any means to record this in detail in the near future anyway.”
November 4th, 2011 at 10:31
“Right shoulder to left testicles,” anong klaseng twister game ito?!
“Gawin mo na, at pupugutan daw ng ulo ang matatalo.”
“Ayayay. Dahan-dahan ang pangsisiko. Beklog ko yan, beklog ko yan, di yan bolaaa”
“Hayan, oks na. Ikutin mo na ulit.”
“Anus to left nostril.”
“Naknangwegie! di ba pwedeng yung kanang pisngi nang puwit mo na lang?”
“Kawal! Pugutan na ang mga yan! Madadadaldal!”
November 4th, 2011 at 19:43
Hi Jessica. Can I submit this one? First one was rushed- just burst of idea. kakahiya.
“’Right elbow to left testicles,’ anong klaseng twister game ito?!”
“Gawin mo na, at papupugutan nga ng hari ang matatalo, makakalaya naman ang mananalong pair”
“Ayayay. Dahan-dahan ang paniniko. Beklog ko yan, beklog ko yan, di yan bolaaa”
“Hayan, oks na. Ikutin mo na ulit.”
“Left knee to right nipple.”
“Ah syet, titiwarik ako nito. Ah. Uy. Umn. Uuuhng. Hayy. Referee, ayan, ayan,
“Iikot na ulit, dalawang turn na lang, malaya na tayo.”
“Left armpit to navel.”
“Ahh, naman, pano ito? Sandali, ayan, idikit mo lang sa pusod ko, idikit mooo! Ahhyan referee!”
“Good! Isa na lang, isa na lang, pwede na rin nating i-dis-engage yung naunang “to right testicle” sa wakas. iikot na ang roleta!”
“Anus to left nostril.”
“Naknangwegie! Mabantot yan! Di ba pwedeng yung kanang pisngi ng puwit mo na lang?”
“Kawal! Pugutan na ang dalwang yan! Madadaldal!”
November 5th, 2011 at 22:35
Smackdown
It was quite amusing how at the height of human technology and civilization, the laws of evolution still prevailed. Grow your own organs. Check. Re-engineer your genes. Check. Manufacture your own super kids. Check.
Wait, no. Manufacturing your own kids wasn’t as simple as everyone thought.
You could make them as smart as you want. As creative as you want. As athletic as you want. As beautiful as you want. Or all that you want. Yet, most of the kids during those days never really became what they were cracked up to be.
Most became average humans, doing average things, living average lives. The few who lived up to the promise were excellent. As perfect as humans could be. But none were truly exceptional. Greatness eluded humanity for a very long time. There were no Roger Federers. No Pablo Picassos. No Mahatma Gandhis. No Steve Jobses.
Many were puzzled as to why children who were genetically engineered to perfection, nurtured to make the most of their abilities, could grow up to be so—ordinary. Were humans fundamentally flawed? Was it a function of not fully understanding the complex ballet that is nurture and nature?
Then it became apparent not long ago. Most great men and women from antiquity to the late twenty first century were flawed and, most of time, troubled human beings. Most might have been born with almost supernatural abilities. But the ones who rose to greatness had something in them that scientists couldn’t figure out no matter how deep they attempted to understand the workings of every cell and nerve in a human body.
It’s as if greatness was truly in the realm of the divine.
So a secret experiment was performed. Create a genetically perfect child. Clone two more. Raise the three in the same way pit bulls are raised. Let the three meet in a three-way death match. See who wins. Observe how the survivor fared in life.
The evidence was clear. There was something in the survivor that made him great that science was simply unable to figure out.
And so it became the norm soon after. Parents watching clones of their children killing one another in a battle for superiority. Human civilization had come full circle. Roman gladiatorial contests were back. But in a slightly more, let us just say, macabre way.
November 7th, 2011 at 08:00
Model: This whole talk on sibling murders, Thailand flood, and cancer all over is such a downer. I’m supposed to be not thinking about my break up.
Sculptor: You think too much… there’s a whole lot of options for you, sweetie.
Model: Options? What if he’s my last pitstop?
Sculptor: Don’t say that… it’s like saying there’s only one dessert in the world left…. and that is sad. Look towards your left – there’s cookie dough, there’s black forest, there’s strawberry … whatever it is you do with strawberry!
Model: I honestly don’t know if I’m hungry or horny.
November 7th, 2011 at 16:56
“Wanna see something cool?”
“Dear, you already asked us and our servants to strip naked. And I’m wearing a fucking floral crown and they’re doing stupid acrobatic tricks.”
“Come on come on come on pull the finger!”
“Seriously, would rather not. The shame. Can I go dress now?”
“Pull it pull it pull it come on pull the finger pull the finger pull the finger”
“Please, dear, I really want to dre–”
“PULL IT COME ON PULL IT IT’S GOING TO BE FUCKING COOOOL AND THEN YOU CAN DRESS AFTER COME ON PULL IT COME ON BABY!!!”
“Ok, whatever.”
” OH YEAH OH BOY WHEW OH WOW OH WOW OH WOW…Whew. Yeah. That was a freaking Fountain of Trevi. Needed that, whew… hey listen, call you call the maid when you get dressed then ask her to clean this mess?”
“You’re sick.”
November 8th, 2011 at 01:05
i like turmukoy’s entry – naked twister!!! =)
November 8th, 2011 at 03:52
A day in the life of the Naked Family…
“Aren’t our children lovely?”
“If you say so, dear.”
“Can you please get your penis outta my face!!!”
“You’re just jealous cause you can’t do this! Look Ma… check out my handstand!!”
“I can’t possibly belong to this family. I know I’m adopted.”