WEEK FOURTEEN CONTENDERS: FRANK (7-2) VS BROKENHAL0 (7-5) FRANK WINS 4-0

[Adverse]

AOWL Season X WEEK FOURTEEN

@Frank @brokenhal0

Verse Due: MONDAY JULY 25TH @ 11:59 EST

Line min: 10

Max: 60


Rules: http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=150311

Topic:






GOOD LUCK

[brokenhal0]

3:16


John's on his lunch break stressed out pacing the hall
the weight of his job outweighs the weight of it all
out of shape chain smoking pissing last nights e&j in the stall
working for days without sleeping that's just something waiting to fall
making his way to the county morgue dispatch gave him the call
pushing open the red emergency doors johns sweating and stressed
his nose detects the all familiar stench of decaying flesh
another case load to be filed on his little desk
whats life without a little death whats a fetish without a little sex
john solves the strangest crimes leaving detectives perplexed
in his suspenders and tie his head is a mess body bags under his eyes
eating a dry burger with bread putting ketchup on his fries bourbon and becks
slowly taking his bites the food makes him forget about the pain in his life
putting a strain on his heart but the rhythm is hidden inside
solving true crimes as the days depart in a way it's an art
homicides in the dark keeping john's paintings alive.

The mortician walks in and said they came in later last night
pulling back the sheets revealing new actors who gave up there life
they were Siamese twins laying there rather sloppy
under ambient light among the broken bones and battered bodies
one head joined in two delicate fetal and nude solitude guess who's singing the blues
john got the meat sweats dripping off his chin concentrating on a particular bruise
if you stared hard enough it seemed as if they moved I hear laughter instead
abrasions all over there back and there chest cigarette burns on the back of the neck
another image john would rather forget but he's use to sitting on the edge of rapture and rest
he cracks a smile and gathers his breath knowing its all a joke lathered in flesh
captivating rhymes occupying his time in capturing the many facets of death.

The only real calling inside is bringing justice to all who unlawfully died
the only real calling inside is the weight of the karmic heel halting his stride
only if he could retire move to Hawaii and surf with the tide make it alive
before the monsters he made in his life take up space in his mind
his callings cold he knows people are aching to die
eating his lunch on autopsy tables in vegas observing deceased faces with fries
if they could speak they would tell him all the answers to cases gone bye
even the ones he knew he couldn't hide the ones he murdered himself
that sick lingering fetish he couldn't deny
only we know he's a expert at killing and getting away with the crime.

He said doc cover the rest ill comeback later save it for 5
im working on other cases the metaphorical memoirs of a serial killer sadist
who targets the retarded disfigured patients
contorting there body's into origami pages
ill clue you in later john seen this pattern before
he never leaves a pattern his trails are scattered across state lines
john knows the tricks of the trade hes murdered statewide
been killing for years and remains fine
while receiving his masters from Michigan state he killed two students lake side
from rookie to swat chief to traffic cop the position he lives today never stopped
that's why he always gets away you would never think
the man who kills you will be the one you call to be saved behave
the pretty boy killer who murdered the sleeping woman next door
his own type of policeman a different view of the law.

It's been years since he retired the department flag
gave it up to start his own private cast spite the protest from his dad
an irish captain who later died with his badge
complicated cases made john famous despite what he had
his ex wife left him with nothing but thats life in a bag
behind his sweaty layers of fat he kept up his act to act decent
but we all know evils contagious and he seen so many succumb for that reason
it gave him some purpose some benign twisted meaning of service
to keep his past beneath him he digs skeletons out his closet for each person
that lies on the cold table of steel with no breathe left no secrets revealed
vision is cringe middle aged man who seems nervous hair receding breaching the scale
every evening john has a meeting with cheap bourbon before he leads you to jail.

On the surface john seems perfect for every reason to give but get this
john lives a double life leaking with sin hes in his monte carlo taking a spin
creeping again pall mall 100s and a liter of gin
looking for the weak and the grim abominations of god
who are denied bare necessity's that are given to all creatures with skin
but look at him whose more rotten within a fucking creep
john sharpened his cutlery as he stops the car near the steps
stalking his next victim a scrawny kid who walked with a limp
john whispers to himself this gimp will fit in the trunk
if i give him a shove john tasers the kid from behind
in a instant he stiffened him up breathing heavy
john groans lifting the punk to the edge of the trunk
john unlocks the doors and starts the engine hoping he drawn no attention
stepping on the gas driving into the next dimension.

John learned early on to cherish his life
its a shame hes all alone no kids & no wife
no cat no dog just the cries of his victims at night
a rope hanging from the kitchen fan rolled tight
gonna put himself to sleep the ghost of his victims will kiss him good night
and wish him to die he should of went on a diet too
and kept the monsters in his mind locked in barbed wired room
before the desires grew will the end be his tomb or his tome
john looked in his rear view and realized he was being followed home
sirens blare and a helicopter appears in the sky no fear for john
cause john didn't care if he died but today he will pay for what he hails to be right
a man over a loudspeaker screams pull over the gig is up
a bunch of police cars try to block john in but he ain't given up
drove his monte carlo off the bridge the car burst into flames
the second the engine struck the water he felt a change
drowning in glory while he shouts his name
suddenly john blacks out from a sudden bout of pain
now he appears in hell to himself to heal the world while holding up his weight
without a shame this is for the ones you call for help and the ones who got away

3:16 am...

[Frank]

The Boss caught Billy having a few drinks of Suds, before work. . . with co-workers Drew, Steven & Douglas.
“I heard he was taking a load off.” Said Susan, Eugene & Justin: Throwing him under the bus, for his boozy, inebriant bussing. . .
At the Bull’s Ring Luncheon: Billy waited on your table with Soups & Cuisines & Custards: Platters of Prosciutto, Cheeses & Hummus
Barbecued Wings and Nuggets: The table’s legs moved & creaked & budged with every dish & plate— Billy had to bring to the Huntsman.
From the fumes of a heated oven: Billy served food & drink and glutton, to fools & thieves drunkened on shoestring budgets.
Billy would've kicked the new tip bucket over, if it weren’t for the insurmountability of his utility bill. . .
The Boss brought Billy into a room to meet and discuss it. While Drew, Steven & Douglas listened through the wall: Snooping on Bill—
They overheard the Boss say “Billie’s useless skills are bringing down a company I single-handily instituted and built.”
Their ears tuned into the unlucrative deal, like eavesdroppers, leaning against the office. ”Billy, what am I going to do with you, Forreal?”
He said taking a Vermouth swill: His breath, 100 proof, over two ice cubes: chilled. Holding up his drink: Saluted & Spilled. . .
The Boss told The Bartender “If I fire Billy, we'd have big shoes to fill. . .” Flicking his cigar, as, if not to ash. . .
“Billie Boy’s the back bone of this here restaurant. . . I’d give him the shirt off my postured back!” Said his co-worker, Knotting the trash.
The Boss looked into the bottomless glass. . . while the workers mopped & laughed, at Billie: Downtrodden & slacked, taking shots of Jack.
Propped up like the waiter carrying pots & pans: Billy got to his last, sip, and let the bottle smash. . . like a drop of his hat
The Boss ordered his despondent staff, to return to work: Or hang it up, either way, the meeting was through
Billy tried to hold it all together like strings in a loop: He needed a moment: to let it all sink in, like the heel, deep in manure
The Boss had come down hard on the defeated crew: And Billy wouldn’t put up with it.

He wouldn’t bring them their food

The requirements of the job started to weigh on him: eating his mood.
Every time his Boss chewed him out: like a seed, he seedily spewed—
He’d let the misconduct and mistreatment, seep and brew, until he was steeped in abuse: like a string of tea, with the ingredients loose
Billy began stewing over the boss’s ultimatum like meat juice. Blowing off steam, like taking the lid off a plate: seasoned & spruced
Paprika fumes: Billy felt like a piece of meat, too. Every time he reached for the new raise: The Boss cleavered his due.
He felt flat and defeated, consumed with the unrealistic expectations & obedient rules: And had to put a stop to it

Before it creamed his future

Even if it means, being decruited and being relieved of his duties: Billy felt he could get back onto his feet like Orthopedic shoes
“He’s got mouths to feed.” Said Susan, Eugene, & Drew: Ear to the wall, like a secretive stool pigeon, breaching through—
“Wouldn’t want to be in his shoes”
—As Billy carried the plates, he felt like the chunk of veal, sizzling in the butter and dill and onions and peels. . .
The waiter uncovered the veil of the platter, and Billy saw himself as nothing but a piece of meat, with a rubbery feel
Rubbed and filled and into the oven: It utterly killed him to have his Boss see him, as just a meal.
Silverware cut into his funds, but Bill... wasn’t the type to Say Uncle or kneel: The only thing Billy sucked up to was a. . . Rum & Tequil
Whatever the Boss dished out: whether it was crunchy or congealed. Billy served it up, with a smile, he only revealed to his favorite customer: Beale
The Boss didn’t want to hear Billie’s cutlery spiel, refusing to listen, to a busser’s ordeal. He thought about letting Billy go: During a lunch rush
“Bill couldn’t pour water out of a shoe with the instructions on the heel.” He said looking over his menu, While he chewed. . .
Spitting out bits of vile food. . . onto the linoleum tile and onto his ironed suit. Talking with his mouth open, finally made Billy, violently puke
Plates stacked up higher than the booster chair for their child to view: a dinner table, with knifes & spoons, piled
Bile. The roofs of their mouths were on fire from the Cayenne, Cooling down their mouths: They opened their mouths wide and blew
The Bulls Ring Luncheon had the spiciest food: this side of the roost: There was nothing mild about the hot sauce that their vines had produced.
The wine was smooth, servants stomped out the grapes, in all sizes, 9’s & 2’s, crushing the grape, till the flavor intensified with the fruit.
“Don’t judge a person until you have walked a mile in those shiny shoes.” Said the co-worker, getting the garbage
The black hefty bag was heavy with carnage. . . the co-worker flung it over their head for yardage: stepping to launch it.
Gelatin cartilage and skeleton carcasses leaked out of the bag, as everything was discarded, dismembered and larded.
The other bag was too heavy for his co-worker to fetch it and toss it: “It’s like there’s a body in this bag.”
As the men hauled it. . .
And carted it, it smelled like varmint. . . the co-worker had never smelled anything as offensive & vomited, retching & barfing
They called in the Detective. . .What happened next was appalling—not for the tenderhearted: it was a severed part of the Bosses Leg
Billy had shot him with the extra cartridge. On his lunch break, after he had led a party, to their seating arrangements—next to the garden:
Billy helped lift the bag up . . . holding up his end of the bargain. As blood dripped from the shoe onto his villainous garment
It spilled and it pooled onto the kitchen compartments. As the detective pieced it together, stitching the wound.
Drew, Steven, & Douglas, Sue, Eugene and Justin: Couldn’t believe Billy could be so cool after killing that dude
The Boss had fired Billy for acting too big for his shoes—

Maybe he shouldn't have given him the Boot

[Universe]

brokenhal0

Not going to lie, I read Frank's verse first because, well... I wanted to. And after doing so, the technical differences between the two are glaring. Don't get me wrong, you had some GREAT lines and moments, hal0... but they were interlaced with long-winded bars and awkward rhyme schemes that really threw me off while reading. When you were on, it read smooth and took me by surprise - But the jumping back n' forth between coherent and belligerent was jarring.

Frank's verse was just so bang-on it made this one seem VASTLY off-topic, even though it really wasn't. It strayed off course, of course, but always stayed within the realm of what you were trying to accomplish. The problem is Frank literally did everything so much better it's hard to give you any credit.

You do deserve it though because, standing on it's own this is a cool piece... although the ending felt rushed - You literally crammed everything into like 4 bars and it lessened the impact of his death and everything else he was ultimately haunted by, but... I don't know... You just ran into a monster here... and I just can't unsee it.

I did enjoy this journey though, for what its worth.


Frank

This was a tough topic but you handled it about as well as anyone could. The same repeating words issue is prevalent here once again but I almost didn't care this time; I honestly thought this was terrific top to bottom. You actually had a solid narrative here and when mixed and matched with your eccentric style it actually gave it a nice pace. Some of these bars flew off the screen and just were a God damn joy to experience. You had some clever lines that constantly related back to the topic and kept the reader in tune with what you were doing.

This was like reading a Dennis Lehane prohibition era novel that rhymed... It was just so damn engrossing and I loved it.

I glanced at the topic picture when I was done and was like, "Yup, I just read THE piece that this belongs to". There is no way around it, sometimes a topic just finds a home and you definitely gave it one here.

Great work.

Vote: Frank

[Rawn MD]

Hal0 - This verse was better than the last one I had read from you. I enjoyed what you did with your story too. The one thing I will say in comparing it to the other verse I had read from you was your flow was more off and on here than the other. Maybe you had tried to deliver more story o. Your lines because your opponent I don’t know, but the flow did really suffer in places. Plus, although I absolutely love the use of slant or unorthodox rhyme schemes, the way you utilized them felt like they were misplaced like either they just didn’t fit correctly, or the internals were not strong enough to carry them through. I also felt like you went way overboard with your writing, and it hurt the story in places making it seem more long-winded, rather than more action packed and captivating, which you could have truly made this given your direction on the topic. I liked the direction a lot, but I felt you could have taken like 2 paragraphs out of the whole and your verse would have been the better for it. Just my thoughts.

Frank - I started reading your verse and I was like fucking names and food… he better do something with all this bullshit I am reading… and well you did. Your flow was probably the weakest I’ve seen it though, and your lucky Halo had a similar difficulty there, bc well your flow was better than his even though both were tough at some parts to me. But with all the food talk and descriptions of some fat guy eating and eating I could picture him like slamming his fists in anger and contemplation with food particles being spit out his mouth as he complained… so your adjectives did you good here… it was pretty vivid… and your build up to your ending was done well too. The verse was just descriptive enough to keep the reader engaged to bring them to a climatic ending which brought things all into view… plus you foreshadowed it a little bit with the conflict between the boss/manager.

Overall both of your flows were either on or off… franks was just on way more than Halo’s, Halo had a good verse, but it was just to long, and the lines didn’t hold enough content to engage the reader, me, to want to know what’s next, or continue reading… while Franks were just descriptive enough to draw a picture and keep me engaged. Both approached the topic in a dope direction I just felt Halo could have done way more with his approach and in less amount of words… while franks was succinct enough to bring it to an ending that wrapped everything up well. Both came pretty dope, Frank just out did it with his verse being more vivid and engaging.

Vote - Frank

[Dominate]

Halo,
This is definitely the best I've read from you in terms of staying focussed and building up a character and a story over the course of the piece, - nice one. The details about your character's eating habits really brought him to life for me. Cool little story with a dark twist. You were about as good as you've been mechanically too so it was cool to see that didn't really take a hit. Your vocab and imagery weren't as good as usual but it's hard to have everything. I'm not really clear on the connection to the topic? Quite possibly because I'm a dummy and I need to have my hand held and be led to it, but, oh well. I enjoyed the verse, good stuff.


Franky boi,
Thought this was pretty dope man. Even aside from the cute little wordplays in the closing bar/s this story fit the topic neatly. Your style is interesting to me. Every other writer I've seen whose writing is obviously very rhyme-driven loses the narrative or just folds in a bunch of dull filler, but you turn a rhyme centric approach into a strength. Your multis serve to build your characters or paint the scene with interesting details. In other verses I've had slight gripes with decisions you've had to make re wording vs rhymes - nothing really terrible or egregious but just things like grammar that's not quiiite right or some slightly awkward phrasing here and there, but all that was pretty minimal in this verse. Cool.


v/ Frank

[Adverse]

Hal0:
In terms of narrative this is probably the best storyline you’ve written in this league, the concept isn’t foreign, homicide detective turns out to be serial killer is a trope in its own right but I like how you described the decaying mindstate of somebody trying to live a double life and the big toll it takes on them. When I first saw the title “3:16 and the character John, I thought you were going to try a biblical spin on the topic but it’s all good. The massive weight he was holding up finally caught up to him, and that was poetic justice. Think you sacrificed a lot of your usual multies and flow for a more concise story, I think if you can put what you did this week and what you’ve done previously together you could be a real threat competitively.

Frank:
Haha this was kind on the nose my brotha but was also a good take, I feel like there’s a lot of filler in your verses, you kind of run us in circles and buy yourself time for the ending, it’s like on that Simpsons episode when Millhouse says “when are they going to get to the fireworks factory?!” Lol I keep waiting for the bang because it’s coming. I like how you shifted perspectives from like coworkers and the boss, customers and Billie himself, it was kind of jarring but creative too. Obviously you’re a very skilled writer, and your story’s are told well, you do a great job of painting the scene and making your characters human, while it’s probably against all logicality to kill your boss I’m sure everyone’s been in Billie’s shoes (no pun intended) don’t think this was your best verse but was more than enough to win

Consensus: Hal0 improved his storytelling this week but didn’t do great in other departments, Frank was the whole package. He gets the W. Great battle

V/Frank