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40TH Anniversary Short Story VOTING THREAD (With Prizes)

Started by Bad City Blue, 21 March, 2017, 11:07:01 AM

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Bad City Blue

Salutations, scumbags

The idea of this special comp was that I would give entrants a classic 2000AD character and they would write a story in that character's own words, sort of like a camp fire tale.

Aside from a few who misunderstood the brief, we've had some really cracking entries, as our authors got under the skin (or metal) of their characters.

Some entries that did not follow the brief have not been included. Sorry, but that's the rules. Raggedman's excellent Zenith piece was a casualty of this but it wasn't what was asked for. Also, if there wasn't a title I have supplied one that I hope isn't shit.

Please vote for your top 3. the winner will get a 2000AD Graphic novel, as will ONE random voter. many thanks to Rebellion as usual!

Cheers, m'dears. Happy voting

BCB

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BAD CITY BLUE

"Mighty One"

Hi everyone, my name is Tharg, and I'm an alcoholic.

Thank you... it's been seventeen years since my last drink. I remember it well, it was a glass of MacMac I got from a pointy headed trucker. Hoo boy it was strong, and I decided there and then I'd never drink again, but you all know that story, right?


It all started in the mid Seventies when I landed on this planet. I guess I should point out to new people that this isn't a mask, it's really me. Okay, I know it looks like someone painted a neantherthal mask green and stapled a brooch and pony tail to it but what can you do - Tornado comic had to live with the world's most unconvincing superhero as their editor. Hey, you should see what I used to wear in those days – should have called me boiler suit bobby not Tharg The Mighty.

Anyway, there I was in seventy six, and I decided the planet needed saving from thrill suckers. Seriously! Well, I say seriously but it was all bollocks. That said the mugs at IPC bought it hook, line and sinker and let me start a comic up. Remember this was the seventies, IPC would let you start a comic based on Andy Capp's son if you spun them a good enough yarn.

So I decided I'd do a science fiction comic because, you know, I'm a frickin' alien and all. Been there, done that, got the Rosette Of Sirius, right? I got this dope smoking genius called Mills to run it for me, and this guy was dynamite. We decided to call it 2000AD because it sounded very cool and futuristic.

You know what? It worked. We were a hit, and everything was going well, but in the Nineties I developed a serious polystyrene cup habit, plus cocaine and booze as well. Things went a little mental – I filled the comic up with shite like The Space Girls, Urban Strike and A Life Less Ordinary, and at one point I turned the whole shebang over to a bunch of those men In Black arseholes. Oh yeah – they're real too, except in real life they are complete and utter tossers. They took my comic and shat all over it whilst I crawled into the bottle.

Eventually I managed to come to my senses and realized that I needed to sort everything out, to be Mighty again and not just another addict. I spanked the Men In Black with a few well placed Rigellian hotshots, then got a new publisher who actually gave a toss about the comic. That was in 2000, and I haven't drunk, shot up or nibbled a polystyrene cup since.

My glorious organ, settle down at the back, just celebrated forty years in print, and I am still the Mightiest of editors. If you take nothing else from my story take this – no matter how down you are, you can always stage a Rebellion.

Thank you.


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EAMONN CLAERKE

Simping ain't easy.

The name's Jack Point. Jack as in "You know ...", and Point as in "I'm getting to it, already".
Funny story as it happens. I'm all about the funny me. And trouble. Trouble is my business.

She came into my office just as I was starting a big sleep, or a little personal Jack off-time as I call it. She looked like that trouble I was telling you about, trouble spelled S-E-X. She had the sort of curves that would make an old Bishop weep.

The job was easy, find a guy, and recover some weird bird sculpture he had stolen from her. 50,000 credits for delivery of her little flappy friend. That would keep my in carrots for a while and stop my landlord chasing me with a two by four every time he saw me.

I asked all the usual, assured her of total discretion, said of course I wouldn't ask any tricky questions about the statue. Sentimental value, gift from her little sister apparently. Keep your nose out was what she was telling me. She went like a long goodbye, and left me looking out of my high window. There was a bad smell, and it wasn't coming from my size 18 clown shoes, or the crappy carrots I smoke. A little bird was telling me something strange was going down.

I put my big red nose to the grindstone for three days and then set up the meet. She didn't want to come in to the office, wanted somewhere remote. I scouted out a disused warehouse and arranged to meet the lady in the Lake-side storage facility. I was early, she was late. She went straight to where I had left the little black statue on a packing case and immediately tore the label off its base.

"Looking for this?"I asked, holding up the data slug.

She opened her purse and pulled out a Lazinger pistol. I don't like it when people point guns at me, tends to take the fun out of things if you know what I mean.

"Come clean, Lady. Tell me about this chip and we can end this the easy way without anyone getting hurt."

She looked amused. "Hurt? Why, Mr Point, I believe I've got you covered."

"Funny. I was just thinking the same about you. See I've got a little insurance policy. Double indemnity you might say. All I have to do is whistle and it will be farewell, my lovely."

"Ever the joker eh, Point. But you're bluffing. If you have the drop on me why haven't you pulled the trigger yet?"

"Let me tell you the secret of great comedy ...."

I just put my lips together and blew.
The piano fell from the roof. WHUMPF! The lady vanishes.

"...it's timing."

Punch lines. They can be real killers.

People laughed when I said I was going to be a Simp, well they're not laughing now.

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THE LEGENDARY SHARK

What's the "D.R." Stand For?


Like, seriously, Man? The prison's on fire and that's the only question you got? Well, I get asked it a lot and we got plenty of time 'til the S.W.A.T. teams show up so, okay, I'll give you the Definitive Report. Hey, anybody got marshmallows? No? Shame. Seems like a waste of a good conflagration, yeah?

Anyhoop, you remember my first parole hearing when I'd been in this dump for, like, five years? Back then I said the "D.R." stood for "Definitely Rehabilitated," which it really didn't. I tried, though. When that spankstick of a governor learned about how I'd been in the movie biz he put me to work in the prison's animatronic workshop, and I was real spooky at it, Man. Made animatronic puppets for all sorts. You ever see "FartScrape" or "Stan's Labyrinth"? They were mine. Made tons of bread for the prison, enough to build a new wing. F-Wing, they called it. Dumb name. Should have called it the Dobbs Ranch, you dig? Pfah. Modern, though. You can see through the rubble it's the only wing not on fire. Cool, huh?

I'd secretly built an animatronic of myself to send to that first parole hearing, Man, because I get, like, kinda upset an' shouty, "Distinctly Reactionary," you might say. Heh. The real me hid in the laundry but the Governor got wise because I used the wrong synthi-skin colour and he sent the animatronic off to the tip while I was put back in a cell, which was, like, really heavy, Man. Decidedly Recaptured.

So, here we all is, thirty five years later and this is my second parole hearing. You like the show I laid on for you? Exciting, ain't it? Destruction Rampant, Man! See, all I got to do is wait for E-Wing to blow up, 'cause that's where the cctv transmitters are, then everyone will think I died in the, like, explosion in here, Dude. A Defunct Recidivist. Wow, there it goes! Sure is pretty, yeah? Now I just open this drawer in my stomach and arm the atom bomb...

You look confused, Man. Ain't you got it, yet? I painted the real me with the wrong skin colour thirty five years ago, got myself Declared Rubbish and chucked away. Ever since then, the "D.R." has stood for Decoy Robot.

Like, boom, boom, Man...


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TIMOTHY

A Touch Of Class

Wotcher, mateys, it's your old pal Ro-Jaws here. The cheeky nerk what keeps coming back to mix things up and put old Hammerstiff in his place. We've had a laugh together over the last 40 years, and it's been a lot better under snot-face Tharg than it was under that ponce Starlord, but you know what? I've just about had e-bleedin-nough. I mean, I know what people think. "Here come smelly Ro-Jaws" people say "he'll be good for a toilet joke and a comedy swear". But who gets to shift the story along? Who gets the action? Who gets the big speeches? The character development? The girls? Not muggins here, that's for sure, and that's what I'm pig sick of.

Time was I could have done the lot. Slapstick - no problem; action - let me at it; romance - I'd tug your heart strings like nobody's business. I had range, see. Range, and real potential. Like a young Dudley Moore but with better teeth. And you know when it all went wrong? The minute I bumped into that twannock, Mills, that's when. Promised me the world, he did. Told me about how he wrote nearly everything in comics worth reading and how if I stuck with him I could have a piece of the action. Told me I'd be a cover star, that I'd have parts in all his big stories: Ro-busters, Nemesis, ABC Warriors, he told me I could have the lot and more. What he didn't tell me was that the parts were no more than mockney light relief to set against his real stars. So for 40 flamin' years I've been typecast as the cheeky little chappie to be trotted out whenever he had a new fake swear word to road test. So now what am I good for? Chuff all. My career is right down the pan, which is ironic given the role I've been stitched up with.

I don't think I'd mind so much if I actually was a salt-of-the-earth lovable cockney, but I'm not. I'm actually from pretty good stock, not that I ever get a chance to show any sort of breeding with the parts I'm landed with. I mean, it just sickens me to have to wave that ridiculous shovel about when I've got all the proper attachments - soup spoon, fish slice, the lot - but I'm not allowed to use them. It makes me look like such an oaf. And my casing is actually Rolls Royce you know, yet Mills has it smeared in shit every time I'm on. I reckon he's just jealous.

Well no more. This worm has turned, and unless I get some decent roles - proper meaty stuff that'll have me up for awards - then Mills can stick it up his arris . It's time for a new me; smart, polished, a robot with a bit of class and with smooth moves to match. See you on the podium, chums.

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MODERN PANTHER

Old Man Normal

Old Max, he's been around for a while, you dig?  The pinstrike freak is long past his peak.  But sure, sure, I'll give you one more dance at the shuggy ball.  Shall we say, a hundred creds for the win?  I'm a little rusty.  You can break.

Shuggy's a dying art.  Was a time, there were parlours on every corner.  A game of skill and chance.  The great equalizer. Folks complain about the immigrants, aliens and apes and muties.  Shuggy don't discriminate and neither does Max.  Its less about the DNA and all about how they play.  A man of any hue can wield the shuggy cue.

Nice. Nice separation you got there.  Hand me the chalk would you, friend?

Young Max, he grew up in parlours like this one.  All the charm of cheap bracelet.  Max had a genuine talent from a young age. Purple ball, third pocket.  Spent more time in the shuggy groove than was healthy for a fresh faced juve.  Talent got me noticed by some important people with non of their own.  Max got a criminal patrician, who saw the creds that could be made from magician with ambition

I travelled Big Meg, from the low life streets to the penthouse suites.  Let me tell you, some of the scenes I've seen on the scene have been obscene.  Its a flat world, full of squares, living their lives in little boxes.  Orange ball, rebound to top pocket.  From Sector to Sector, Max made money for bad guys, raking in the funds, taking out pros and rubes alike, taking in all the crazy this crazy world has to offer.  It was a good life, compared to most.  But being a performing monkey wasn't my style, you dig?

Ma and Pa Normal, they didn't raise a fool.  Max decided he wouldn't play by the rules.  Hence the threads.  Thank you.  They're custom made.  I'll give you my tailor's card.  Ball nine into pocket two.

I know what they all see...just another freak.  Never judge a kook by his cover, my friend.  Maxie Normal is unique. The cool cat in the bowler hat, he knows where its at.  And being the golden goose for the mob isn't exactly a long term plan.

A young man with a talent, through tooth and manicured claw, he can change the world.  But in the Big Meg, that deck is stacked.  Amid all this insantity, the real problem is the criminality.  So what Max did next, well, that knowledge is more common than those polka dot kneepads with the red trim.    Old J.D, he doesn't exactly put the "b" in "subtle", whilst a lounge lizard, pinball wizard stands out like a dapper thumb.

Standing up for the common man, for what's right, that's every man's duty.  Besides, the shampaine and sartorial stylings don't pay for themselves.  Black stripes, middle pocket.

Bad luck, Buddy.  Looks like old Max got lucky.  What do you say to double or nothing?

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CLAVELL

Cheers, Chop

That's My Name.

Justice Department audio transcript. Extract of statement by Marlon Shakespeare / aka Chopper / aka The Midnight Surfer.

I just wanted everybody to know my name, that's all. That's all. That's why I was a scrawler, and that's why I was the 'Midnight Surfer', but you'll never understand. Judges can't understand anything like that, because you're not human anymore. You'll never understand being one nobody in a city full of them, trying not to stand out because you'll just step on us as hard as you can. Even the Phantom understood that, and he was a robot. You stepped on us both, but you didn't step on me hard enough or long enough to keep me down. That means I've beaten you, doesn't it ? You can't keep me down. You can't break me, and you know it. You heard it out there tonight. They were all shouting my name ! You can lock me in those cubes for ten years or twenty, it won't make any difference. I'll still be King Surfer. Just like I was King Scrawler. Even if they don't remember me when I come out, even if I never come out. I did it. I still did it. I took that tunnel backwards. Carrying Yamamoto ! I won Supersurf Seven ! I beat the Judges when they tried to stop me - they couldn't stop me ! Now everybody knows my name ! Everybody knows Chopper !

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HEATH C ACKLEY

A QUESTION OF SUPPORT

'Hi, I'm John 'Giant' Clay of the Harlem Heroes. Every aeroball player needs support. Out there in the arena, I rely on the trust and support of my team-mates like Curly, Slim and Zack. I watch their backs and they watch mine. When you're flying at one hundred miles an hour towards the studded fist of an opponent, you need friends there with you. As with any modern athlete, I welcome the chance to connect with the team supporters. After every game, I like to go over to the stands and personally thank the fans for their support. You guys are the real reason we won the World Championships. Confidence and support are vital in the game and in life. That's why I wear Knut-Sak Athletic Support Garments. Strap one on today and you're ready to take on the world!'

You Too Can Be A Giant With Knut-Sac!

please note that garments do not protect genitals against jet-powered kicks, fists or steel balls.

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NAPALMKEV

Round The Snuttin' Campfire

Fire's looking good, now where are the Snuttin' sausages? I'm starved!"


"Right then, now those baby's are cooking I'd like to tell you a story! A tale of subterfuge..., sneakery... Bastardy of the highest level! I'm going to tell you about the time I got tricked by a robot."


"Give 'em a turn, make sure they don't burn! Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Myself, 'Machine-Killer Dave', 'Phil Dangerous' and 'Sausage John' were sent to Tibet to meet with a Guy who reckoned he had information on some Big Threat that was supposedly heading Earth's way... Yeah, I know how it sounds - A bunch of old Geezer's going to meet some Geezer on a Mountain full of...um, Geezer's! 'Snutting Bullshit' I thought but we couldn't ignore a potential threat to old 'Mother Mud', so off we trotted... Mmmm smell those Badboy's... to meet this Guy..."


"...and he tells us what's what! Big Brain was back... Yeah, I Know... The Big Bad himself. I was less than impressed to say the least and I thought John was going to cry but we held it together for the most part. Anyway, he goes on to tell us about an army of Robot's being amassed off World, and how we've been infiltrated by a new kind of shifty metal bastard - one's that could pass as Human! I remember Phil's words, clear as day...'No Robot could ever get past us, we're the best that Humankind has to offer! Sam alone has killed millions of the Snutter's! Who was that famous dude you killed Sam? The Theme-Park bloke... Walt Hitler was it? He thought he could try it on and got...', and then Phil's head disappeared from his shoulders and ended up mostly on my Hat and Jacket! Turns out the Guy we met was one of the new Robot's and he had lured 'Humankind's Best' into a trap!... How're the Pig's doing? Have we got any ketchup?"


"...and we made it! Now then, do you know what the moral of the story is kids? Tommy? Clarissa? How about you Kabir?... No? Well neither do I but one thing's for certain - I ain't being caught twice by the same Snuttin' trick!"


Sam reached into his Jacket...
Writer of SENTINEL, the best little indie out there

Eamonn Clarke

1. Bad city blue and TMO
2. Timothy and Ro-jaws
3. Legendary shark and D.R.


Hm NapalmKev

Well done, chaps

NapalmKev

1. Bad City Blue
2. Eamonn Clarke
3. Legendary Shark

Cheers
"Where once you fought to stop the trap from closing...Now you lay the bait!"

Timothy

1. Modern Panther
2. Legendary Shark
3. Eamonn Clarke

Bolt-01


Woolly

1st. EAMONN CLAERK - Simpin' Ain't Easy.
2nd. THE LEGENDARY SHARK - What's the "D.R." Stand For?
3rd. CLAVELL - Cheers, Chop.

HM. BAD CITY BLUE - Mighty One.


That was a good read all round, I can see Eamonn's Simping Detective story working particularly well in comic form. Great stuff.

Rara Avis

1. CLAVELL - Cheers, Chop

2. BAD CITY BLUE - "Mighty One"

3. EAMONN CLARKE - Simping ain't easy.

Rogue Judge

1. EAMONN CLAERKE - Simping ain't easy.
2. TIMOTHY - A Touch Of Class
3. BAD CITY BLUE - Mighty One

The Enigmatic Dr X - Splut, is not included (it must not have followed the brief, not sure) but I also thoroughly enjoyed that one too.

Albion

Dumb all over, a little ugly on the side.

The Legendary Shark

1: Eamonn Clarke, Simping Ain't Easy.
2: Bad City Blue, Mighty One.
3: Modern Panther, Old Man Normal.
[move]~~~^~~~~~~~[/move]




Heath C Ackley

1) The Legendary Shark
2) Timothy
3) Modern Panther

HM Raggedman for a great tale and BCB as usual for running the comp and putting up with my mix-ups and cock-ups! (Must remember to treble check the 'kin brief next time!)
"Give a man a mask and he will give you the truth."

Modern Panther

1) Timothy
2) Bad City Blue
3) Eamon Clark

Honourable mention to Ragged Man.    It's the Zenith we deserve...

RaggedMan

1)   MODERN PANTHER Old Man Normal


2)   EAMONN CLARKE  Simping ain't easy.


3)   TIMOTHY A Touch Of Class

Really, these three are interchangeable. I think these really captured the voice of the subjects, the first two could be one-off episodes in the prog and I like the meta aspect to Ro-Jaws, it fits with him bursting on to the letters page annoying Tharg in the early days. And casting Mills as a brutish Svengali is a nice touch.

HMs to everyone else. Good stuff all round.

IAMTHESYSTEM

1: Napalm Kev: Round the snuttin' Camp Fire.

2: Modern Panther: Max Normal.

3: TIMOTHY: A Touch of class.
"You may live to see man-made horrors beyond your comprehension."

http://artriad.deviantart.com/
― Nikola Tesla

amines2058

1st. THE LEGENDARY SHARK
2nd. EAMONN CLARK
3rd. BAD CITY BLUE

HM. MODERN PANTHER

Top efforts by all and was a very pleasant interlude in my working day!!