Unofficial Fiction Challenge: The Beatles Rock Band Edition

Started by BlueBard, June 21, 2010, 02:59:05 PM

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ow_tiobe_sb

Two words: Moog.

Glitch Girl

#31
In the immortal words of Peter David...

"What... the hell... was that?"  :wacko:

Breathe BWPS!  Breathe!
-Glitch Girl

"Cynicism is not maturity, do not mistake the one for the other. If you truly cannot accept a story where someone does the right thing because it's the right thing to do, that says far more about who you are than these characters." - Greg Rucka


BlueBard

Quote from: Glitch Girl on October 08, 2010, 08:28:13 PM
"What... the hell... was that?"  :wacko:

Beats me.  Does it have anything remotely to do with any Beatles song?  If it does, I'm not getting it.

BWPS, you've got some 'splainin to do...
STO/CO: @bluegeek

ow_tiobe_sb

Quote from: BlueBard on October 10, 2010, 01:43:14 AM
Does it have anything remotely to do with any Beatles song?  If it does, I'm not getting it.

Ah, but it does, BB, and quite cunningly so, I might add.  You should revisit the end of Side One of Abbey Road for BWPS's inspiration.

ow_tiobe_sb
Phantom Bunburyist and Whirled Braker
Two words: Moog.

BWPS

Oh, yeah the song is I Want You (She's So Heavy)

I really had the idea as doing the last line as a joke but I didn't really have time for a lot of plot elements or periods or anything. I thought the two sentence style of mid 19th century writers such as Stuart Maynardberry would suit this type of assignment.
I apologize in advance for everything I say on here. I regret it immediately after clicking post.

docdelorean88

WAY late on the entry...This one has its moments where the song works with the story, but i appologize if i stretched to far on this one. I like how the story turned out though! Lemme know what you think. :)

The Eye of Bastet had been on display in the Gotham City Museum of Natural History for just under a month...for Selina Kyle that was 24 days too many. Previous to its arrival, the museum decided that her services as curator were no longer needed. Normally, Selina would brush it off, and move on, but having invested her entire life savings into the ancient Egyptian archeological dig that over turned the Eye, she was both emotionally and financially destroyed by the loss of her job. And so, she turned to a life of crime. First, small thrift store and "Money-For-Jewlery" stores, and progressing quickly past that. Up until this heist, there had been little to no resistance, a guard here, a lock there...This however, was no ordinary heist. She was past the small potatoes, and had worked up to the big leagues. Surely, this would put her on the map.
She entered gracefully, taking out security with two sharp cracks of her bull whip, the newly entitled Catwoman repelled into the main room from the roof. As she approached her precious diamond, cracking her whip for some added personal flair, a caped silhouette dropped into the room through the very sky light she had just used.
"You're not leaving with the Eye, Catwoman."
"Ah," Salina sighed, staring at the shadowed figure, "The Batman...the puuurrrrrrrrrrrfect man, tall, dark and brooding." She moseyed to his side, "I bet you're even good with-" Suddenly, a second figure stumbled through the ceiling. "...kids."
"Wooooohooooooo!" Robin caught his cape under his boot, flopping at Catwoman's feet. "EPIC! That was freakin sweet!"
"And you are?" She asked, lifting him by the cape.
"Robin, Boy Wonder!"
"Scram Kiddo, Mom and Dad need to-" She turned back to the Dark Knight, only to face a bola-bat-a-rang flying at her. Quickly, Catwoman did a back hand spring kick over Robin, throwing him into the bola's path. Direct hit.
"Tell me, 'Boy Wonder' Does the caged bird sing?" He fell to the ground helpless.
"...no..." He whispered quietly.
"Batman...Come out, come out wherever you are!" Off of a model pyramid, The Batman flew at her, legs first. The bullwhip whirled around her head, gaining speed and, to Selina's enjoyment, even more dramatic flair. She thrust the whip through the air, entangling Batman's legs, ripping him to the ground. As he landed on the marble floor, Catwoman slunk over to her prey. "We don't have to play this game you know." She stroked her finger down the nose of his cowl. "How 'bout it Batman, you and me, the dynamic duo." Batman swung his head to see Robin, who was struggling to break the bola ropes with a bird-a-rang. 
"I'm afraid the position has already been filled."
"You're telling me there isn't anything else in life that you want?"
"A little help would be great!" Robin cried.
"And your bird can sing? So be it," She said, rolling him out of the whip, "Just know this," She threw her whip through the sky light, "You can't get me." And in an instant she was gone. Batman didn't know who Catwoman was, but he was going to find out.
Later that night in the Bat-cave, Bruce Wayne searched Gotham P.D.'s data banks for any record of Catwoman. Nothing. He tried Star City, nothing. Metropolis, nothing. This woman appeared out of thin air.
"Sir, you've been scanning the archives for hours. Perhaps you should get some rest?" Alfred plead, collecting a tray of untouched tea and biscotti from the computer's console. Bruce didn't respond, simply because he was not listening. "I should know better by now. Once you've got something on your mind, there's no getting through to you."
"He's right you know?" Dick Grayson commented, swiping the domino mask off his face.
"What?" Bruce halfheartedly responded.
"This obsession with Catwoman is going to be the one thing that stops you from catching her every time."
And Dick was right. The game of Cat and Mouse, or Bat as it may be, went on for many years. Whenever Bruce Wayne had ever skipped out on a Wayne funded gallery opening, he had been following a lead to Catwoman's next crime.  His prized possessions could never hold a candle to the hunt for justice...especially when Catwoman was involved. Eventually, Dick Grayson moved to Blüdhaven establishing himself as Nightwing... handing the Robin mantle off to Jason Todd.  Still, Batman chased Catwoman. And when Jason Todd was broken by the Joker, Batman searched for the Catwoman, this time to ask for her help to take down the clown prince of crime. But despite the many triumphs or pitfalls of Batman's career, one thing that stayed consistant. Just before Catwoman slipped through Batman's fingers, before taking her glorious dramatic exit, she would smile politely and say "You can't get me."


A few quick notes to clarify the thick of my story:
Spoiler
Catwoman has had loads of origin stories so i just gave her a new one, this one doubling as her first encounter with batman, as well as her first major endeavor. Bastet was an Egyptian cat goddess, i thought it was appropriate. And just in-case you couldn't figure it out, my song was "And Your Bird Can Sing". Hope yall enjoyed!
"Roads, Where we're going we don't need... Roads"

Mr. Hamrick

Quote from: BlueBard on October 04, 2010, 06:30:43 PM
These questions go to everybody who even thought about attempting this challenge... you can PM me if you like or reply here.

Was the creative goal of this challenge (visual imagery) easily understood?
Was the "deadline" goal realistic?
Was the minimum word count goal realistic?
Was it too difficult, or too gimmicky?  
Did this challenge spark any creative ideas at all?
Did this stretch your writing ability at all?
What did you like or dislike about this challenge?
Is it easier to participate in challenges in the Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall?
What could have been done differently to encourage you to participate?

Your answers will factor in the next time I dream one of these things up.

My knowledge of Beatles songs is limited.  Hence, any attempt at this challenge has been postponed.

And the deadline would've been reachable had I not been ill and trying to keep up with other writing stuff.

Still going to try it when I get everything caught up. 

Mr. Hamrick

#38
Sorry about the double posting but here is my entry.  And as an added bonus, I included a reference to a second Beatles song on the same album.  No idea of a title.  Then again, there wasn't a title on the cover of "The White Album".  Will let you guys guess the song that I was actually trying to go for.  The bonus reference is to "Happiness is a Warm Gun".



   Wild percussion thumped inside of his skull making the flurry of lights and noise of the crowd even harder to take in than normal.  This wasn't normal.  He wasn't even sure it was real.
   Greg Colman stumbled through the crowded fairground trying to figure out what the heck had happened.  He glanced around seeking some sort of bearings.  Had he been drugged?  Had he been hit in the head with something?  He knew one thing; he was sliding downward and doing so in a breakneck pace.
   He remembered a woman.  Her words, "I don't care about your feelings on the matter. Happiness?  What is happiness these days anyways?"
   Did she do this to him?  Greg tried to recall what happened next.  He looked around the park.  Who were these people?  He looked for a familiar face.  There was nothing there.  He heard her voice speaking to him.
"Happiness is subjective.  It's an illusion."
Greg glanced around again and kept moving.  In the distance, the helix shaped attraction that had become a favorite of all the kids over time.  He headed toward it.  A female figure stood at the platform at the top.  He climbed upward toward her.
"Who are you?" Greg mumbled to himself.
He thought he remembered her from earlier.  She was one of the background dancers, maybe?  No, that wasn't it.  She was no dancer.  Who was she?
At the top of the slide, he grabbed a hold of her.  "What'd you do to me?"
"Me?"  the woman said, "What makes you think I did something to you, honey?"  She was trying to sound seductive but failing miserably, her insincerity being too obvious.
"You drugged me!" Greg accused.
"That's not the half of what I did," the woman taunted.  "Getting inside a man's head is easy."
   She pushed Greg away.  He leaned against the railing.  He grabbed his head.  "So, I guess the question is which of us is going to break first?"
   "You're already broke, Greg," the dark haired woman teased.
   She was no lover.  She was no dancer.  Or was she?
   "Then see you at the bottom," Greg rushed her, knocking her down the slide.  
He followed behind her.  At they both reached the bottom, her shape changed into someone else.  The figure was now an older male with graying hair.
   "Congratulations, Mr. Colman," he laughed, "Well, played.  It won't do you any good but well played."  
   Greg got to his feet slowly.  It was his turn to smile.  "It isn't an illusion.  It's quite simple actually."
   BANG! BANG!  Both men collapsed.  
   The next thing Greg heard as a familiar woman's voice.
   "What'd you get yourself into, love?"  a woman said to him, her European accent distinctly different from the other woman's voice.
   He couldn't quite respond.  Whatever he'd been drugged with, he wasn't completely cognizant yet.    
There had been someone with her, a male voice responded to her, "You did the right thing following him.  And idea what happened here?"
"The guy is a carnival mentalist.  No clue if he is legit.  No idea on who the woman is."
"His assistant.  I believe she had been known to woo men and steal their money.  She's a regular siren, of sorts."
"And they picked Greg Colman as a mark?  I don't think the guy is that much of a mentalist.  Is he wounded?"
"Looks like he was drugged with something but he'll live.  He's gonna need medical attention but he'll live."
On the ground nearby, two bodies lay.  One was unconscious.  The other had two bullets fired into the chest.  Beside Greg was a warm gun.

docdelorean88

I think i know what it is
Spoiler
Helter Skelter
Very well written Mr. H!
"Roads, Where we're going we don't need... Roads"

Mr. Hamrick