Originally Posted by sraL (Post 394538)

i was gonna make a new thread but fuck it, might as well keep it in here

mike wrecka is wack as FUCK at topicals now

dude used to be okay, nothing amazing and almost always single syllable shit, but still aight you know?

now dude just straight up WACK AS FUCK imo

literally nothing i like to his verses

not even flow which was always his forte

like, just inconceivably wack

all in the space of a couple months

anyone else feel me?

i mean, if you're gonna mod, at least be half fucking decent at the damn thing you put in charge of

i cant be letting fools i wouldnt place in my top 25 on the site mod the single damn thing i give two fucks about

thats what ruined the league for me now i think of it

when youve got absolute garbage voting and running the league, what chance is there, really?

terrible.

just venting is all

pretty sure everyone feels me on this though

no offence.

Originally Posted by Mike Wrecka (Post 394562)

@sraL don't make this thread all about me. that's disrespectful to the dude kannon


and btw the last time you went on one of these mike wrecka is wack rants I champed a league you were in. js.

and no, no one agrees with you. your trolling style is really not working in 2014. evolve

Originally Posted by Certain (Post 394559)

But moderators definitely don't have to be elite writers. TekNeek founded the RSTL and ran it on and off for years, and he was terrible.

Originally Posted by Diode (Post 394569)

alias tourney angst? seymour butts has to be him, right?

Originally Posted by evil big baby (Post 394571)

i dont think mikes gr8 but he i dont think hes wack by all means



its my 3rd biggest fan nyc

Originally Posted by Certain (Post 394568)

zygote ran the Writing Challenge League.

And Mike Wrecka beat Soulstice, Pinot Grij and me, among others.

Originally Posted by Kin (Post 394697)

An for the record its disrespectful to rap ova a producers vocal samplez they add.....in there for a reason

Originally Posted by Kin (Post 394697)

An for the record its disrespectful to rap ova a producers vocal samplez they add.....in there for a reason

Originally Posted by Certain (Post 394720)

"Lucifer"

Originally Posted by Mike Wrecka (Post 394574)

And the AOWL was at its height of popularity when I ran it

Originally Posted by Ender (Post 341580)

Mate, stop fucking cheating!

For those who don't know, Baron Mynd has bitten a short story and posted it as a topical in the "Tales from the Scrypt" Tournament.



Here is what Baron posted.
http://www.projectrhyme.com/forums/s...ad.php?t=28662

"Murder By Scrabble!"


It's a blistering hot day and I hate my wife.

I pretend to listen despite her inane babble ..
But I'm 42 years old -
And all I can think of to do with my life is to play Scrabble!
I should be out addressing this fact,
Instead of attached to her incredulous act ..
But I've not spoken to anyone except my wife since Thursday morning.
My letters are crap.
I play, appropriately, BEGIN.
With a copious grin that I've staged whenever we've played together ..
Then a ceaseless clack, clack, clack...
Preceded my wife's smug expression as she rearranged her letters.
I hate her.
Her cruel repugnance had me duly bludgeoned as she grew in gumption..
If she wasn't around, I'd be doing something interesting right now...
...I don't know what, but I'd be doing something.
She plays JINXED, with a J on a double-letter score,
And begets the roar that's pervading our plush villa ..
That's 30 points, and now she's beating me already...
...Maybe I should kill her.
If only I had a U, then I could play MURDER.
That would be permission to take her to task ..
Instead I chew on my H, before playing WARMER,
Mainly so I can keep chewing on the H that I have...
I draw letters straight from the bag,
As my cavernous nostrils fume, and I'm sat in a hostile mood ..
Where I find myself thinking -
These lucky letters will relay back at me what to do...
And so I cynically scoff,
While keeping her timid repostes under my sinister watch ..
If these letters spell out KILL, or STAB, or her name,
I'll do it right now - I'll finish her off.
My rack spells MIUZPA. Damn.
Plus the H in my mouth as my yellowing teeth compress its sides ..
I can feel the heat of the sun pushing at me through the window,
And hear the hum of the buzzing insects outside.
Soon sweat slides down my forehead,
Until pools of perspiration have spangled my eye-brows ..
And she plays SWEATIER, using all her letters,
If it wasn't too hot to move, then I'd strangle her right now...
It needs to rain to clear the air.
I can't even seem to think, I need a drink ..
But as soon as that thought crosses my mind, I find a word -
HUMID on a double-word score using the D of JINXED.
The H makes a small splash of saliva,
As it's placed with force against the board ..
I hope that she has lousy letters.
She tells me she has lousy letters, and for some reason I hate her more...
She plays FAN, gets up to fill the kettle,
And turns the air conditioning straight to "High" ..
It's the hottest day for ten years and my wife is boiling the kettle,
This is why I hate my wife.
I play ZAPS with the Z doubled,
The sweet disguise of her sweeping eyes is starting to bug me ..
When she gets a static-shock off the air conditioning unit...
And I find this remarkably funny.
She sits back down with a sigh at her letters -
Tilting them slightly, looking for any points to pilfer there might be ..
While consoled by her continuous clack, clack, clacking...
I feel a terrible rage build up inside me.
The heats intense and I'm steeped in sweat,
I start to feel my heart of steel race ..
The rage gets to my fingertips, when the kettle starts whistling -
And as its whistle builds it makes me feel faint.
She plays READY on a double-word for 18 points,
Then goes to pour herself a cup of tea ..
No I do not want one.
I think to myself in silence as I watch her get up to leave.
And while she's not looking -
A blank tile is thieved from the bag, as easy as that ..
I play an 8-letter word: CHEATING, using the A of READY,
Having thrown back the V from my rack.
She returns and asks me if I cheated.
"Of course not," I wryly plead, to help put her mind at ease ..
Before she plays IGNORE on the triple-word for 21 points,
The score is 153 to her, 155 to me.
The steam rising from her cup,
Only seems to intensify in this torpid weather ..
As I try to make more murderous words of my rack,
When I spot the chance to use all my letters...
EXPLODES, using the X of JINXED,
Is the word I cruelly hail as I chew my nails ..
But as I put the last letter down, there's a deafening BANG! -
And the air conditioning unit fails.
My hearts now racing, but not from the bang -
More so my delayed reaction to this games amazing pattern ..
I don't believe it, but it can't just be coincidence -
The letters made it happen!
I played the word EXPLODES and the air conditioning exploded.
I played CHEATING when I cheated, which made me think ..
These words are coming true.
The letters are choosing their future, and this whole game is - JINXED!
My wife plays SIGN, with the N on a triple-letter.
I have to test this, so I play with a passion ..
I have to play something, something unlikely...
To prove that the letters are making this happen!
My rack is ABQYFWE.
That doesn't leave me a lot of options based on what I want to see ..
So I play FLY, using the L of EXPLODES,
And start chewing frantically on the B...
I sit back in my chair, waiting to fly.
The idea weighs on my mind as I grapple thoughts ..
Stupidly, I listen harder, and there's a fly -
Buzzing around just above the Scrabble board.
It surfs the thermals from the tepid cup of tea,
But nothing's proven by its astute arrival ..
As the fly could have been there anyway -
I need to play something unambiguous, something absolute and final...
My wife finds CAUTION, using a blank tile for the N,
I'm sat in vast dismay, trying to catch a break ..
My rack is AQWEUK, plus the B in my mouth -
Maybe I should cheat again, and pick out the letters needed for SLASH or SLAY...
Then it hits me. The perfect word.
I play QUAKE for 19 points, and my joy is restored at the choice I've procured ..
I wonder if the strength of the quake -
Will be proportionate to the amount of points that it scored?
I feel the trembling energy of potential in my veins,
With the world in my palm - I'm commanding fate ..
My wife played the word CHOKE for 28 points,
Just before the living room began to shake.
But as tremors tore through the foundation of our household,
The nights air grew oddly morose ..
And I gasped with surprise and vindication -
As the B that I was chewing on became lodged in my throat.
My face turned red, and then blue.
I drew blood clawing at my neck to free myself of desperations grip ..
Before falling to the floor,
While my wife just sat there, watching.

That manipulating bitch.

Clack... clack...clack...

Originally Posted by Ender (Post 341581)

And here's the story he bit it from.
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-st...DeatScra.shtml

Death By Scrabble
or
Tile M For Murder

It's a hot day and I hate my wife.

We're playing Scrabble. That's how bad it is. I'm 42 years old, it's a blistering hot Sunday afternoon and all I can think of to do with my life is to play Scrabble.

I should be out, doing exercise, spending money, meeting people. I don't think I've spoken to anyone except my wife since Thursday morning. On Thursday morning I spoke to the milkman.

My letters are crap.

I play, appropriately, BEGIN. With the N on the little pink star. Twenty-two points.

I watch my wife's smug expression as she rearranges her letters. Clack, clack, clack. I hate her. If she wasn't around, I'd be doing something interesting right now. I'd be climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. I'd be starring in the latest Hollywood blockbuster. I'd be sailing the Vendee Globe on a 60-foot clipper called the New Horizons - I don't know, but I'd be doing something.

She plays JINXED, with the J on a double-letter score. 30 points. She's beating me already. Maybe I should kill her.

If only I had a D, then I could play MURDER. That would be a sign. That would be permission.

I start chewing on my U. It's a bad habit, I know. All the letters are frayed. I play WARMER for 22 points, mainly so I can keep chewing on my U.

As I'm picking new letters from the bag, I find myself thinking - the letters will tell me what to do. If they spell out KILL, or STAB, or her name, or anything, I'll do it right now. I'll finish her off.

My rack spells MIHZPA. Plus the U in my mouth. Damn.

The heat of the sun is pushing at me through the window. I can hear buzzing insects outside. I hope they're not bees. My cousin Harold swallowed a bee when he was nine, his throat swelled up and he died. I hope that if they are bees, they fly into my wife's throat.

She plays SWEATIER, using all her letters. 24 points plus a 50 point bonus. If it wasn't too hot to move I would strangle her right now.

I am getting sweatier. It needs to rain, to clear the air. As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I find a good word. HUMID on a double-word score, using the D of JINXED. The U makes a little splash of saliva when I put it down. Another 22 points. I hope she has lousy letters.

< 2 >

She tells me she has lousy letters. For some reason, I hate her more.

She plays FAN, with the F on a double-letter, and gets up to fill the kettle and turn on the air conditioning.

It's the hottest day for ten years and my wife is turning on the kettle. This is why I hate my wife. I play ZAPS, with the Z doubled, and she gets a static shock off the air conditioning unit. I find this remarkably satisfying.

She sits back down with a heavy sigh and starts fiddling with her letters again. Clack clack. Clack clack. I feel a terrible rage build up inside me. Some inner poison slowly spreading through my limbs, and when it gets to my fingertips I am going to jump out of my chair, spilling the Scrabble tiles over the floor, and I am going to start hitting her again and again and again.

The rage gets to my fingertips and passes. My heart is beating. I'm sweating. I think my face actually twitches. Then I sigh, deeply, and sit back into my chair. The kettle starts whistling. As the whistle builds it makes me feel hotter.

She plays READY on a double-word for 18 points, then goes to pour herself a cup of tea. No I do not want one.

I steal a blank tile from the letter bag when she's not looking, and throw back a V from my rack. She gives me a suspicious look. She sits back down with her cup of tea, making a cup-ring on the table, as I play an 8-letter word: CHEATING, using the A of READY. 64 points, including the 50-point bonus, which means I'm beating her now.

She asks me if I cheated.

I really, really hate her.

She plays IGNORE on the triple-word for 21 points. The score is 153 to her, 155 to me.

The steam rising from her cup of tea makes me feel hotter. I try to make murderous words with the letters on my rack, but the best I can do is SLEEP.

My wife sleeps all the time. She slept through an argument our next-door neighbours had that resulted in a broken door, a smashed TV and a Teletubby Lala doll with all the stuffing coming out. And then she bitched at me for being moody the next day from lack of sleep.

< 3 >

If only there was some way for me to get rid of her.

I spot a chance to use all my letters. EXPLODES, using the X of JINXED. 72 points. That'll show her.

As I put the last letter down, there is a deafening bang and the air conditioning unit fails.

My heart is racing, but not from the shock of the bang. I don't believe it - but it can't be a coincidence. The letters made it happen. I played the word EXPLODES, and it happened - the air conditioning unit exploded. And before, I played the word CHEATING when I cheated. And ZAP when my wife got the electric shock. The words are coming true. The letters are choosing their future. The whole game is - JINXED.

My wife plays SIGN, with the N on a triple-letter, for 10 points.

I have to test this.

I have to play something and see if it happens. Something unlikely, to prove that the letters are making it happen. My rack is ABQYFWE. That doesn't leave me with a lot of options. I start frantically chewing on the B.

I play FLY, using the L of EXPLODES. I sit back in my chair and close my eyes, waiting for the sensation of rising up from my chair. Waiting to fly.

Stupid. I open my eyes, and there's a fly. An insect, buzzing around above the Scrabble board, surfing the thermals from the tepid cup of tea. That proves nothing. The fly could have been there anyway.

I need to play something unambiguous. Something that cannot be misinterpreted. Something absolute and final. Something terminal. Something murderous.

My wife plays CAUTION, using a blank tile for the N. 18 points.

My rack is AQWEUK, plus the B in my mouth. I am awed by the power of the letters, and frustrated that I cannot wield it. Maybe I should cheat again, and pick out the letters I need to spell SLASH or SLAY.

Then it hits me. The perfect word. A powerful, dangerous, terrible word.

I play QUAKE for 19 points.

I wonder if the strength of the quake will be proportionate to how many points it scored. I can feel the trembling energy of potential in my veins. I am commanding fate. I am manipulating destiny.

My wife plays DEATH for 34 points, just as the room starts to shake.

I gasp with surprise and vindication - and the B that I was chewing on gets lodged in my throat. I try to cough. My face goes red, then blue. My throat swells. I draw blood clawing at my neck. The earthquake builds to a climax.

I fall to the floor. My wife just sits there, watching.





Dude, at least try and cheat intelligently, they're even making a damn movie from this short story that you bit.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1145862/