XI WK III: Diablo (2-0) vs. brokenhal0 (2-0) (DIABLO WINS)

[Frank]

Season 11 XI

VERSES: Tuesday, December, 20th, 11:59 P.M. Western / 2:59 A.M. Eastern / 7:59 A.M. UK. 24 Hour Ext: Mod/Opponent Discretion

VOTES: Friday December, 23rd, 11:59 P.M. Western / 2:59 A.M. Eastern / 7:59 A.M. UK. 3 Vote Requirement Enforced/Penalty

MAXIMUM: 48 Lines: 64 IF AGREED UPON!

Goodluck! @sral @brokenhal0

TOPIC:

[brokenhal0]

''Santa's Saga''

Spinning Santa so you try to size me up something so specific
sleigh bells ring above my mobile camper somewhere lost in the north pacific
who says the tree cut for Rockefeller's center wasn't already terrific
I got my eyes on you flying through darkened skies of crimson
beyond the shrouded prism using constellations to guide the system
On Dasher!, On Prancer!, On Blitzen!
destination attuned to all those rare conditions
torrential rains that only seem to last for seconds
like a comet in the sky hidden to the naked vision
don't blink to fast some get a glimpse of Santa speeding past
all the children would eat amphetamine pills hoping that sleep would pass
wide eyed trying to see if Santa sneaks under my tree leaving me the bag
Santa flew right over my heart guess I don't get nothing like last year (shrugs)
storytime..

Slimey slippers shiver me timbers the fireplace is flickering reds
bad or good
Satan stands on his hooves and grabs Santa's slippers instead
flicker me whiskers slobbering slippery spit
Satan starts thrusting away solemnly into some old slithery slit
Ms Clause peels off her g-string revealing a slippery clit
it's glistening while she's holding the post of an old hickory bed
Meanwhile Santa's flying around delivering gifts
in the blistering breeze's of freezing blizzards with mist
Rudolph's nose is leading the sled full steaming ahead like a beacon of red
parking on the roof of a large home stuffing some stocking's full of charcoal
some gasoline some matches to warm up your cold heart soul
you can light it within the alters of Quetzalcoatl
Riding away on his sleigh as flames reach up to where the stars float
call on St. Nick under the mistletoe when desire's start burning like this
Satan's slimy sacrum shattered from pulsation
as he ejaculates freezing semen allover Ms. Clause pasty white tits
sweaty perspiration some relation to desperation for those violently fit
Satan monstrously fucks Ms. Clause for a second time never tiring yet
all over the house the elves jerk-off shaking there little vile green dicks
to much cider by the fireplace Santa would loose his mind if he see's this
delivering gifts to homeless angels keeping warm by pissing there sweats
climbing down chimneys that are fucking cindering
getting attacked by your pets...

All you leave him is some rotten milk and stale cookies
with a thank you note scribbled from a 5 year old
he might pour high octane on your porch and light the snow
even when your awake Santa sneaks inside unknown
he sees someone with there head in the oven feet by the stove
leave them a gift or something for many pick holiday's to die alone
others party into the wee hours of the morning leaving on all the lights at home
sadly sometimes Santa has to ride alone
Ms Clause bust it wide for Satan slippery wet lick it thee pink taste like a drink
topped with a maraschino cherry tied at the tip infidelity wrapped inside of a gift
flickering wretch like those serpents on trees tempting eve yet she still bit it again
the bickering blast of a sanctimonious ass pounding sounds ever thee mess
but when Santa slays you for foul play violent aggression is never exempt..

Christmas eve was drawing to a close once the sun starts rising at 6
santa traveled across the globe beyond the speed a thought projects
heading back to the north pole to rest at home on his hickory bed
Ms clause and Satan are still knocking boots not noticing the sun shifting in length
elves are sleeping on the shelf's the kitchen's a mess
the toy factory halts production while krampus is in Austria dissecting the dead
the deer draw near Santa's igloo 5,000 miles over greenland
noticing the villageis eerily quite empty and unkempt
on a Christmas day where you would see smoke billowing fresh
Santa's helpers scattered everywhere keeping the chimney's swept
myrhh wreaths hanging on doors smelling like cinnamon bread
symphony of gnomes playing music into the sheds
a new sun has risen celebrating that springs ahead
Santa lands his sled silently near his reindeer
there brown coats had fur thicker then beds
smelling a foul stench he hears low moans on the rear of his deck
with no fear he grabs a spear from his sled
the same spear that roman's stabbed white jesus with
santa watched as he bled buckets in rome before christmas was kept
when the moon was a sun before gregoria begun in tartarian mystery text
since day one Santa and Satan were placing bets
allies and enemy's it's always been a story that's lost in translation for an audience
Santa opens the door to his hallway shed spear in his hand
Ms Clause is getting rammed on the bed
Satan's pounding away flickering his snake tongue
while small spirits eject
Santa chucks his spear through both of them
the force knocks over a wall and severs there heads
Ms Clause and Satan vanish into thin air
Santa chuckles while combing his beard saying naughty or nice
there's always a price to pay when the devil is near
he's pets Rudolph and goes to fridge and gets a beer
merry Christmas until next year....

[Diablo]

Don’t you just fucking HATE it when Christmas arrives?
That meticulous time,
When soft mittens comprise snowmen of formidable size…
Don’t you just fucking HATE it when Christmas arrives?
That meticulous time,
When soft mittens comprise, snowmen of formidable size ..
.. From the thickets of white,
Sitting astride, the distant horizon.
The winds cold, briskly respite, navigates deciduous pines ..
.. Whistling by,
On its mission-less guide, where with pure intuition it finds ..
.. A lonesome snowman,
That glistens with pride, deep in the dark midst of the night.
Abandoned by his creator,
The young girl was forced to kiss him goodbye ..
.. Leaving him cruelly exposed,
To the adoration of which he despised.
His movements restricted,
By the barren branches that stick from his sides ..
.. And so he sits in the silence,
Bitterly frightened, with his pummelled face missing an eye.
…
I used to love it.
Christmas had always been a favoured fixture of mine ..
.. And often I reminisce on the times,
When anticipation meant the hairs on my neck would bristle and rise.
Mother was quick to surmise,
That I had to be asleep before Saint Nick would arrive ..
.. But I’d sit with my eyes,
Firmly affixed to the blinds, awaiting the glorious gifts he provided.
I awoke, both betwixt with surprise, and of startled relief ..
.. Heading downstairs,
Where my father would be, clutching the star for the tree.
With his assistance,
I’d place it on top as he marvelled at me ..
.. Then open up my presents as I sat perched on the arc of his knee.
I made a metropolis,
From our laminate flooring that was sparkling clean ..
.. My remote control car,
Traversing the length of our house and all parts in between.
Elated rapture exuded,
From my smile in the most ardent of beams ..
But one year in particular,
I could sense the pretence in her parlance of glee.
It was only when I witnessed,
My dear Mother starting to weep ..
.. That I realised,
She was harbouring me, from the darkest of secrets…
…
And I guess this is where my hate of Christmas derives,
I was six at the time,
When it broke my heart into pieces.
My dear Mother tried her best to guard the fact,
She proved hard to crack,
And when she did - I still struggled hard to believe it.
All that me and Mommy could then do,
Was start from scratch,
The void left was filled with only stark incompleteness.
And this is why I fucking HATE it when Christmas arrives,
Cause now I’M the lonesome snowman,
Out in the dark midst of the night.
That puerile pile you’ll find out on the distant horizon,
Cold
Heartless
Unable to move on, and sitting in silence.
Abandoned by my creator,
But with his memory’s still rich in my mind,
I was six at the time,
And it broke my heart into pieces.
My dear Mother tried her best to guard the fact,
She proved hard to crack,
And when she did - I still struggled hard to believe it.
All that me and her could then do,
Was start from scratch,
The void left was filled with only stark incompleteness.
My father had died from a multiple heart attack,
And that’s why all I want for Christmas THIS year is my father back...
…From the thickets of white sitting astride the distant horizon.
The winds cold, briskly respite, navigates deciduous pines
Whistling by on its mission-less guide, where with pure intuition it finds…
…A lonesome snowman,
That glistens with pride deep in the dark midst of the night.
Abandoned by his creator,
The young girl was forced to kiss him goodbye
Leaving him cruelly exposed to the adoration of which he despised.
His movements restricted by barren branches that stick from his sides
And so he sits in the silence,
Bitterly frightened,
with his pummelled face missing an eye.

…

I used to love it.
Christmas had always been a favoured fixture of mine
And often I reminisce on the times,
When anticipation meant the hairs on my neck would bristle and rise.
Mother was quick to surmise,
That I had to be asleep before Saint Nick would arrive
But I’d sit with my eyes,
Firmly affixed to the blinds awaiting the glorious gifts he provided.
I awoke, both betwixt with surprise, and of startled relief
Heading downstairs,
Where my father would be clutching the star for the tree.
With his assistance, I’d place it on top as he marvelled at me
Then open up my presents as I sat perched on the arc of his knee.
I made a metropolis,
From our laminate flooring that was sparkling clean
My remote control car,
Traversing the length of our house and all parts in between.
Elated rapture exuded,
From my smile in the most ardent of beams
But one year in particular,
I could sense the pretence in her parlance of glee.
It was only when I witnessed my dear Mother starting to weep
That I realised,
She was harbouring me from the darkest of secrets…

…

And I guess this is where my hate of Christmas derives,
I was six at the time,
When it broke my heart into pieces.
My dear Mother tried her best to guard the fact,
She proved hard to crack,
but when she did - I still struggled hard to believe it.
All that me and Mommy could then do,
Was start from scratch,
The void left was filled with only stark incompleteness.
And this is why I fucking HATE it when Christmas arrives,
Cause now I’M the lonesome snowman,
Out in the dark midst of the night.
That puerile pile you’ll find out on the distant horizon
Cold,
Heartless,
Unable to move on, and sitting in silence.
Abandoned by my creator,
But with his memory’s still rich in my mind,
I was six at the time,
And it broke my heart into pieces.
My dear Mother tried her best to guard the fact
She proved hard to crack,
And when she did - I still struggled hard to believe it.
All that me and her could then do,
Was start from scratch,
The void left was filled with only stark incompleteness.
My father had died from a multiple heart attack,
And that’s why all I want for Christmas THIS year is my father back...

[Cereal]

broken:

very colorful i think the story wise though original wasnt very creative in the actions that took place.. there was moments that shined like they was going to go somewhere but for the most part this verse was very linear.. kinda like a 4th grader thats been given an F grade but still gets called an advanced artist that wrote it.. it is exacticly what it sounds like it was an actual enjoyable read there is just no substance in the way of the non fiction and or previous characters you are using.. the new revelations were like one step ahead where an artist would have had better looking in on those characters themselves which means you are better leaving them sleep.. just my opinion.. still dope for style thanks.. topic wise was where yall killed it, yall stuck to it dope basiclly if the world was built as a falling quill and yall had to cover everything according to what topic ink it was dipped in you would be a lethal weapon..

sral:
dude real sad but real beautiful.. though it was more metaphorical then direct representation from the examples used by description you really nailed the snowman feeling at the start by setting this beautiful imagery of your childhood house and the living snowman.. that you really had good character development you leave with a beautiful friendship with you dead father with his broken heart yours.. thanks.. really dug this hip hop song type structure to.. topic coverage was dope to.

vote = sral

all in all way more developed which made for a better read.. thanks and g/l both..

[symetrik]

brokenhalo - offhand, having seen you write a few years ago, it looks like you're improving in general. here we go...

Spinning Santa so you try to size me up something so specific
sleigh bells ring above my mobile camper somewhere lost in the north pacific
who says the tree cut for Rockefeller's center wasn't already terrific
I got my eyes on you flying through darkened skies of crimson
beyond the shrouded prism using constellations to guide the system
On Dasher!, On Prancer!, On Blitzen!
destination attuned to all those rare conditions
torrential rains that only seem to last for seconds
like a comet in the sky hidden to the naked vision
don't blink to fast some get a glimpse of Santa speeding past
all the children would eat amphetamine pills hoping that sleep would pass
wide eyed trying to see if Santa sneaks under my tree leaving me the bag
Santa flew right over my heart guess I don't get nothing like last year (shrugs)
storytime..

"spinning santa" connects to the topic, then we're off to the vagueness.
lots of "rhymes" that are shoved together to make it work, and it technically works but what system is being guided? why are the skies crimson? what rare conditions, the torrential rains? anyways. little personal touch but it feels a bit weird - santa flying over your "heart", wanting him to leave you the "bag", money? kinda all over the place.

sleigh bells ring above my mobile camper somewhere lost in the north pacific
who says the tree cut for Rockefeller's center wasn't already terrific

best line of this chunk. little lengthy. good use of "Blitzen" later as well.

Slimey slippers shiver me timbers the fireplace is flickering reds
bad or good
Satan stands on his hooves and grabs Santa's slippers instead
flicker me whiskers slobbering slippery spit
Satan starts thrusting away solemnly into some old slithery slit
Ms Clause peels off her g-string revealing a slippery clit
it's glistening while she's holding the post of an old hickory bed

okay but fuck off, "slimey slippers", "shiver me timbers" where's the pirate? lmao. the amount of "slippers" and "slippery" is unnerving, do you have a spit fetish? skipping past the teenage satan/ms clause fanfic.

whiskers slobbering slippery spit

while I don't like this stanza in general, this is a good line and could have been the core of something so much more dope.

Meanwhile Santa's flying around delivering gifts
in the blistering breeze's of freezing blizzards with mist
Rudolph's nose is leading the sled full steaming ahead like a beacon of red
parking on the roof of a large home stuffing some stocking's full of charcoal
some gasoline some matches to warm up your cold heart soul
you can light it within the alters of Quetzalcoatl
Riding away on his sleigh as flames reach up to where the stars float
call on St. Nick under the mistletoe when desire's start burning like this
Satan's slimy sacrum shattered from pulsation
as he ejaculates freezing semen allover Ms. Clause pasty white tits
sweaty perspiration some relation to desperation for those violently fit
Satan monstrously fucks Ms. Clause for a second time never tiring yet
all over the house the elves jerk-off shaking there little vile green dicks
to much cider by the fireplace Santa would loose his mind if he see's this
delivering gifts to homeless angels keeping warm by pissing there sweats
climbing down chimneys that are fucking cindering
getting attacked by your pets...

"blistering breezes of blizzards" is weird, breezes ain't what a blizzard is so it's a mental block to try to feel/see/imagine it. "cold heart soul" is janky. Quetzcoatl is a rouuuugh near rhyme, "wattle" like "waddle"... meh. caught back up with "stars float". ugh back to fanfic. "monstrously fucks" NOPE. also why are the elves jerking off? is Santa a prude and everyone he works with just kinky fiends? don't get ittttt. "lose his mind if he sees this" could have been "lose his mind if he'd seen this".

climbing down chimneys that are fucking cindering
getting attacked by your pets...

best lines in this stanza just for imagery. simple and invokes something.

All you leave him is some rotten milk and stale cookies
with a thank you note scribbled from a 5 year old
he might pour high octane on your porch and light the snow
even when your awake Santa sneaks inside unknown
he sees someone with there head in the oven feet by the stove
leave them a gift or something for many pick holiday's to die alone
others party into the wee hours of the morning leaving on all the lights at home
sadly sometimes Santa has to ride alone

cookies is missing a rhyme let's gooooo. high octane? who is this prude santa that wants to burn down houses? you say "awake" but they're in the oven so are they really alive? so many damn questions. very vague statements, some people kill themselves on holidays, some party all night and leave their lights on (to discourage burglars?). yes obv. Santa rides alone, who the hell would ride with him? the 5-year-old? the dead person in the oven? no dope lines.

Ms Clause bust it wide for Satan slippery wet lick it thee pink taste like a drink
topped with a maraschino cherry tied at the tip infidelity wrapped inside of a gift
flickering wretch like those serpents on trees tempting eve yet she still bit it again
the bickering blast of a sanctimonious ass pounding sounds ever thee mess
but when Santa slays you for foul play violent aggression is never exempt..

what.

Christmas eve was drawing to a close once the sun starts rising at 6
santa traveled across the globe beyond the speed a thought projects
heading back to the north pole to rest at home on his hickory bed
Ms clause and Satan are still knocking boots not noticing the sun shifting in length
elves are sleeping on the shelf's the kitchen's a mess
the toy factory halts production while krampus is in Austria dissecting the dead
the deer draw near Santa's igloo 5,000 miles over greenland
noticing the villageis eerily quite empty and unkempt
on a Christmas day where you would see smoke billowing fresh
Santa's helpers scattered everywhere keeping the chimney's swept
myrhh wreaths hanging on doors smelling like cinnamon bread
symphony of gnomes playing music into the sheds
a new sun has risen celebrating that springs ahead
Santa lands his sled silently near his reindeer
there brown coats had fur thicker then beds

okay, starting to wrap things up. why is Krampus in Austria? I like the imagery of the elves crashed out in the kitchen, and the general description of the normal expectations - but it felt like there should have been more emphasis on "this is what normal looks like, and it IS NOT HAPPENING".

noticing the village is eerily quite empty and unkempt
on a Christmas day where you would see smoke billowing fresh
Santa's helpers scattered everywhere keeping the chimney's swept

clean, this was good.

smelling a foul stench he hears low moans on the rear of his deck
with no fear he grabs a spear from his sled
the same spear that roman's stabbed white jesus with
santa watched as he bled buckets in rome before christmas was kept
when the moon was a sun before gregoria begun in tartarian mystery text
since day one Santa and Satan were placing bets
allies and enemy's it's always been a story that's lost in translation for an audience
Santa opens the door to his hallway shed spear in his hand
Ms Clause is getting rammed on the bed
Satan's pounding away flickering his snake tongue
while small spirits eject
Santa chucks his spear through both of them
the force knocks over a wall and severs there heads
Ms Clause and Satan vanish into thin air
Santa chuckles while combing his beard saying naughty or nice
there's always a price to pay when the devil is near
he's pets Rudolph and goes to fridge and gets a beer
merry Christmas until next year....

again what. like I guess it wraps it up but not a fan sorry buddy.

Ms Clause and Satan vanish into thin air

WHAT?

---

Diablo - ok to start, this has a very "song" feel to it, lots of repetition, refrain, etc. so I'm consuming it like that.

Don’t you just fucking HATE it when Christmas arrives?
That meticulous time,
When soft mittens comprise snowmen of formidable size…

good setting, but I would have liked more imagery. good as an opener though.

.. From the thickets of white,
Sitting astride, the distant horizon.
The winds cold, briskly respite, navigates deciduous pines ..
.. Whistling by,
On its mission-less guide, where with pure intuition it finds ..
.. A lonesome snowman,
That glistens with pride, deep in the dark midst of the night.
Abandoned by his creator,
The young girl was forced to kiss him goodbye ..
.. Leaving him cruelly exposed,
To the adoration of which he despised.
His movements restricted,
By the barren branches that stick from his sides ..
.. And so he sits in the silence,
Bitterly frightened, with his pummelled face missing an eye.

kinda staggered flow, slower than makes a smooth read without the right pauses, but it was clean. good imagery of the wind sorta lackadaisically blowing and not, going here and there, as if we're following it along its non-specific journey until we find the snowman. I got a little mixed up with a "lonesome snowman" "glistens with pride" and later "adoration of which he despised", mix of emotions that didn't quite connect for me in a clear way. I would be curious why his face is missing an eye if his creator loved him - I'm assuming she was called home and didn't have time to finish.

…
I used to love it.
Christmas had always been a favoured fixture of mine ..
.. And often I reminisce on the times,
When anticipation meant the hairs on my neck would bristle and rise.
Mother was quick to surmise,
That I had to be asleep before Saint Nick would arrive ..
.. But I’d sit with my eyes,
Firmly affixed to the blinds, awaiting the glorious gifts he provided.
I awoke, both betwixt with surprise, and of startled relief ..
.. Heading downstairs,
Where my father would be, clutching the star for the tree.
With his assistance,
I’d place it on top as he marvelled at me ..
.. Then open up my presents as I sat perched on the arc of his knee.
I made a metropolis,
From our laminate flooring that was sparkling clean ..
.. My remote control car,
Traversing the length of our house and all parts in between.
Elated rapture exuded,
From my smile in the most ardent of beams ..
But one year in particular,
I could sense the pretence in her parlance of glee.
It was only when I witnessed,
My dear Mother starting to weep ..
.. That I realised,
She was harbouring me, from the darkest of secrets…

I think "glorious gifts he provided" should have been "glorious gifts he'd provide" to keep tense smooth. the first chunk is clean and on focus and sets the setting well. very smooth pacing (despite the length of pacing) as we transition from waking up to coming down to finishing the tree to opening presents to playing with toys.

It was only when I witnessed,
My dear Mother starting to weep ..
.. That I realised,

could have been

... when I witnessed,
My dear Mother starting to weep, it's
then that I realized...

and score that siiiick rhyme.

…
And I guess this is where my hate of Christmas derives,
I was six at the time,
When it broke my heart into pieces.
My dear Mother tried her best to guard the fact,
She proved hard to crack,
And when she did - I still struggled hard to believe it.
All that me and Mommy could then do,
Was start from scratch,
The void left was filled with only stark incompleteness.
And this is why I fucking HATE it when Christmas arrives,
Cause now I’M the lonesome snowman,
Out in the dark midst of the night.
That puerile pile you’ll find out on the distant horizon,
Cold
Heartless
Unable to move on, and sitting in silence.
Abandoned by my creator,
But with his memory’s still rich in my mind,

good wrap of where it was going - flow changes and falls of from what you'd expect but I think that was of emotional importance to "being the lonely snowman".

[...]The void left was filled with only stark incompleteness.
My father had died from a multiple heart attack,
And that’s why all I want for Christmas THIS year is my father back...

good closing.

vote: Diablo

brokenhalo has improved as far as I can see, but the piece was still messy and vague. it seemed centered around a few key moments in a story, which was good.

Diablo's piece is straight forward and sets imagery well - "I hate Christmas", to which the reader asks "why?", to which the author answers.

[Pharaohs Army]

brokenhal0:

Fairly entertaining- played to your strengths: rhyme, imagery, phraseology (for the most part), shock-value storytelling (what with Ms. Clause being pounded by Satan until Santa takes them out).

There are a few places where you perhaps forced a rhyme a bit, but for the amount of rhymes I'm actually pleased at how the frequency of "forceds" has gone down for you as the years ago by.
You have a few of your usual near-rhymes - kind of like hit or miss - I think most hit OK.

My biggest problem is you're a defending fucking champion... let me repeat that... SEASON IX CHAMPION-- and you STILL get their/there/they're WRONG all the time. Way too often for an accomplished writer such as yourself. All it takes is a quick google search for the rule if you can't edit it on your own.
Granted, you've cleaned up some OTHER bad grammatical errors since a couple years ago (&props for that), but the their/there/they're still stands out as a bad glitch. I believe there were 3-4 in this piece.

That being said, I'm not going to vote AGAINST you for grammar/spelling. As annoying as it may be, as you know, I go by what I started the vote with: your strengths in rhyme/imagery/phrasing storytelling/shock value, etc...

I could argue you maybe could have cleaned/cut a few lines from the long Satan-Ms. Claus sex scenes - because the reader already "got the idea"... but again, not a huge deal.

The premise is great and wonderfully chaotic. Crazy Santa (who might burn your housed down w lighter fluid), crazy/horny elves, horny Ms. Claus, etc.
Long story short, I LIKED this piece, but I didn't LOVE it, and when you're facing a topical beast like Lars you usually have to bring your A+ game. That, said, I think against a lesser opponent you'd have it in the bag. Nice.


Lars:

You have a lot of end rhymes, and the mutlis and flow are pretty much on point. Very enjoyable read for the most part. I WILL get this out of the way: In my humble opinion, I think the repetition HURT a little, rather than helped. At best neutral...I understand it's a "hook/refrain" type thing, and it wasn't a TON of repetition, AND I & others have repeated in the past...all that said, I think if every stanza was "new" it'd shine even that much brighter, with the risk of course being NOT emphasizing/repeating the lines you wanted to. Just an opinion to mull over, not really the deciding factor here.

Story-wise, it kept me fairly engaged. It wasn't groundbreaking, but I did want to find out the reason: ah yes, Dad's heart attack, etc. You dropped that info with your usual flair for a quality stanza.

Snowman imagery also a big part of this, which was well done. Nice.


This battle is VERY CLOSE to me" because I think brokenhal0 was more creative by far but Lars's technical/smooth writing is just better executed IMO and he also had a story-line which, while not as exciting, was driven home aptly.

V/ Lars by a hair

[Frank]

@Adverse @Scar @Quill @NYCSPITZ @Eviction @MMLP @dead man @timeless @Master Rock @Dominate @Dope girl @Civil Rawr xD @Inno @Universe @Ender @Mr. J @H4ZE @MaCe @Mike Wrecka

ATTN ITT:Effectively Immediately. The Failure to meet THE 3 Vote REQUIRMENT results in Penalty
...Each vote you forfeit will be DISCOUNTED/DEDUCTED from your Battle...



Voting is HALF THE BATTLE:



Strongly advised: VOTE NOW to avoid entering your battle next wk w/ 0-3 deficit:



@Diablo @brokenhal0
Currently 3-0. SHUTOUT=6-0. First to 7 votes wins: GL!

[Master Rock]

As much as it breaks my heart I'm going to have to give it to Lars. Halo story was quite interesting and took an angle which I never expected so it was full of surprises. Especially with the elves doing naughty things which I thought was mind boggling. Had a nice cadence and seems like it took a lot of time put it together which was well done. Lars on the other hand had detail story that felt more grounded in reality and a bit more serious. Even though this was a close one. If Halo would have taken a little more time and got rid of questionable lines such as is opening bar spinning Santa. I felt that that was kind oddly place had an attempt to actually refer to the picture but I would have done it differently and I believe he would have taken this.

[Universe]

brokenhal0:

Well it started out pretty solid actually with a good rhyme scheme building the narrative. Steady flow. I had high hopes that you brought your 'A' game but then you just abruptly gave up on the great foundation you laid and went into some diatribe about Santa fucking Mrs. Clause and all the Elves involved in some circle jerk and I kind of just tuned out... Not because of the material, but because it wasn't done well. It was rushed and felt beneath even you... and although that was probably the intention, there really is no excuse for regressing to Cereal-like levels of incoherence and blabbering, especially after you started out so well.

THAT SAID... and upon further reading...

I actually thought the morning after section, after Santa returns from his gift giving or whatever the fuck you call it, was a step in the right direction. Maybe an entire walk. Cool atmosphere - almost like reading a hangover... And the fact that it wasn't Santa banging Mrs. Clause but Satan (which is just 'Santa' scrambled) was actually pretty witty. Nice save here. I might've missed the hints leading up to it but I'm glad I did because the conclusion was a pleasant surprise. Call me crazy... but I loved the ending. I just wish the middle section was written a lot better, and with the care of the opening stanza plus the atmosphere of the last... Would've made for a compete piece. Even a great one.

But overall this was still a cool verse and a fairly unique, sinister twist on the topic. Good comeback.

Diablo:

This may be one or my favorite verses you have ever done. Just a different level here - Clean and precise, technically flawless with an emotional hook few can match. I read this twice back-to-back and loved it even more the second time. It honestly almost feels like a pre-written verse that you had stowed away or posted on another site and used for this topic. I say that because it was that damn good... just seems polished beyond the usual few days we have to write... which is a compliment if it wasn't. Not judging or making assumptions at all. Just an observation.

The snowman metaphor was perfection. It was done so subtly, was so casually intertwined, so seamless, that it almost didn't matter that it was a metaphor. It just seemed so, well... perfect.

The repeating groundhog day vibe was executed with the same subtlety, really driving, or should I say guiding, home the trauma associated with this holiday for you/the antagonist in a thoughtful way. A painful reminder every year of a tragedy that can never be avoided thus can never properly heal... When a day usually associated with happiness and joy is ripped away, what are you left with? You're left with this...

And it was both sad and beautiful. This really just establishes the point that if you're given the right topic, and are in the right frame of mind, you're incredibly tough to beat. This would've been borderline impossible for anyone to outdo, actually.

This was the written equivalent of a quiet, snowy night... Where you can't hear a thing and everyone is inside and it seems like you're the only person in the world...

What's better than that?

I can't think of much.

Vote: Diablo

[Adverse]

Halo - Some parts of this piece were very well written, even the whole Ms. Clause/Satan sex scene had good imagery (ew) it seems like you always throw something in to gross the reader out, but like I’ve said before if you can describe something well enough to make me cringe, then that’s a good trait for a writer. As far as stories go, I guess this was an okay spin on the given topic but I think there should have been a deeper meaning/story going on like Santa just walks in on his wife getting fucked by the devil, kills them both, then goes and grabs a beer like this happens every day. I mean there could have been more emotion, Santa being appalled or angry or anything really. Unless his lack of reaction is a reaction in itself that I didn’t really understand. Welp, you won’t catch it his one on Freeform’s Christmas movie lineup anytime soon.

Lars - this was awesome man. A very poetic piece that goes straight for the heart, a major step up from last week as well (I know I had gripes about your puppy dog story) the imagery was awesome and the repetition really drove the point home, and even though the sentences sounded the same, you set your piece up in a way that they said something different every time, we’d read the same thing, yet get a different piece of the story every single time. Man, you and Universe really hit it out of the park this week with emotional writing. “Left by my creator” was a really memorable line to me both from the snowman and the child’s perspective. I could gush on but what’s the point?

V/Lars

Had the more memorable piece, better emotional writing and better technical ability as well. Halo could be a great writer, but I think he needs to drop the gross out stuff and give us some more well thought out pieces

[Frank]

@Diablo
WINS!