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Post by Travis McBee on May 29, 2013 5:30:21 GMT -5
Compose a flash fiction story with this opening line:
"Calm down, gentlemen," the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. "There's enough lollipops for everyone."
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Post by lucasengam on May 30, 2013 6:27:09 GMT -5
 Requiem"Calm down, gentlemen, "the man with the bushy gray beard said, backing away from the rush of be suited lawyers, doctors and various professionals". Was what the man said in the conversion on the television this words changed John life. Three years earlier ... John had been tempted by many things through life, but there was one thing he absolutely could not resist and that was lollipops. His mother gave him a box of lollipops, a birthday present that would change johns life in a bad way. You see John didn't have many friends since everyone at school thought he was weird and not like the others around him. So, John locked himself inside his room playing games night and day. After three, months, he gained weight since he was eating lollipops all the time. His escape from reality was to play games and become someone else just for some hours a day. - You see, if you want to know John you have to look at what made him the way he is.It all started the day his father joined the army to protect his country. His last words was: - I will come back one day and teach you how to play baseball, John.When he closed the door it felt like an inferno of dryed tears boiling in Johns soul and every now and then John hopes he comes home. "His father never came back". John had also an secret, he never had told anyone. A secret, hidden on the net, that only one person knew about. On the Internet, John could live his life as Lollipop-castle, and that is where he found Carbon a person he felt fast in love with. Carbon was actually Bob, Bob had lived throughout a life of pain and suffering. His father killed his mother at a young age after they started fighting over an jar of honey. Leaving Bob without any parents or home to go to. He was now 35 years and also hide his true self on the Internet behind the name Carbon. John wanted to meet Bob in real life. They had seen pictures of each others and chat ed for awhile. John was tired of living a lie and not reveal his true self, so he started training. An hour daily and after a month he started to jog outside for thirty minutes. When it had gone six months John really started to change, he could see the results and he started to like the person starring back at him in the mirror. One day John and Bob decided to meet in real life. - And the rest is history.- Don't live your life through others, live it as you want and learn from experience. Since if you are afraid of the truth, you will one day regret everything you couldn't do.
PS:
Sorry for my bad English, This is not my main language.[/b] |
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Post by aeghamedic on May 30, 2013 14:48:34 GMT -5
The Ballad of Laurelwood
"Calm down, gentlemen," the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. "There's enough lollipops for everyone." Reginald Flunderbalm attempted to calm the well-clothed men of Laurelwood, but it was to no avail. They were boisterous and in a panic, nothing could calm them down except their allowance of lollipops. They screamed and shouted at their employer, Reginald. This was the first time he has ever withheld immediate payment.
"Wot you 'idin', mate?" yelled one of the doctors with an unfitting accent. "You keepin' the lollipops fer yeself. That's how I sees it."
"I can assure you, I'll bring the lollipops out soon. Please be patient," retorted Reginald.
"Excuse me, sir," said a voice off behind Reginald, "but I believe you do not understand the imperative nature of our situation," this man spoke much more eloquently, perhaps too eloquently, "you see, these good men here have their debts to pay. We cannot be as fortunate as you to have inherited wealth. While we are indeed grateful that you host a plethora of parties for those you put in your employ, we stress that our payments must be prompt and forthwith." What the men didn't realize was that all their debts were owed to Reginald, but revealing that would ruin his scheme.
"Ye, wot 'e said," yelled the first man.
Reginald walked toward a door off to the side of the gold-leaf filled, pillar adorned room. "I understand your concern. Please, let me speak with my accountants and see if I can't return with at least half for all of you. The men in the room did not like the sound of this. Half? What is half when they worked for the whole? "Oi, yer goin' ta bring out ev'ry last pop else you'll be sorry." Reginald, now red with anxiety, chuckled and vanished through the door.
"Have you finished the lollipops?" Reginald was sweating in anticipation of the answer.
"Sir, you've hired far too many people. Expensive ones too, lawyers, doctors, engineers - what did you expect to happen? I can only make so many. I need help, extra candy makers." A small, but built man with slicked back hair in a loose fitting suit was trying to talk sense into Reginald.
"Candy makers!? In my town of Laurelwood!? I think not, sir! I can't make money off of candy makers! I would have to pay them in gold! WHAT KIND OF TOWN DO YOU THINK THIS IS!?" Reginald huffed and puffed, filled with rage. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bright pink lollipop and began to suckle it. His rage soon subsided and his pupils grew twice their size.
"Sir?"
"Oh, Collarton, how could I stay mad at you? Come, give me a hug." Collarton slowly sidled over toward Reginald and received a tight squeeze, a very one-sided hug.
"Sir, you need to tell everyone that lollipops aren't actually money."
"Oh, I don't need to do that." Reginald's vowels were growing in length as he twirled around the pull cords of the curtains. "I just love these little tassels."
"Why not, sir? Do you think you can get away with this forever? All you do is hire more and more. I can't be expected to make all of their lollipops."
"Listen Collarton, they go into the city, do some work, I get paid by their clients in valuable things," he giggled girlishly, "and I pay them in little, cheap, sugary snacks. If you can't handle it, I'll find someone who can. I don't need you." Collarton panicked as Reginald was gliding his hands across his cheeks.
"Uh, uh," Collarton backed away uncomfortably, "it doesn't seem very honest, sir."
"Oh pish-posh. Honesty is for people who don't want to live like kings." The effects of the lollipop were wearing off. "Ugh, every time it lasts less and less."
"Well, I just think that - " Collarton was interrupted by a loud bang. At the now obliterated door stood the employees using one of Reginald's marble pillars as a ram.
"Collarton, quick, hide all of the gold!" There were piles of it in the room. Coins, bars, nuggets. Collarton looked at him with a look that said, "are you serious?"
"Look at all this shiny stuff. Wot is it?"
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," Reginald attempted to defend himself, "it's just, uh, honey-chunks." Reginald was proud of his lie, he snickered devilishly.
"Wot's so funny, mate?"
"Oh, nothing." Another lie, well-played Reginald old boy, he thought.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," the eloquent man began to speak, "yes, well, you see, in my studies I've come across many things."
"You let him have books?" Collarton whispered into Reginald's ear. Reginald shrugged, wanting to listen to this man speak.
"This shiny stuff here is actually gold, that's what Mr. Flunderbalm yelled to this man, whom I do not seem to recognize. He said to hide all the gold."
"No, no, no. I said, uh, hide all the, um," he paused, "mold! I didn't want you to see this moldy old room." Reginald let out a sheepish chuckle. Not as smooth that time, old boy.
"Yes, quite." The man did not look pleased. "Some parts of the world use it as a form of currency." The crowd began to cackle at such an absurd thought and the eloquent man let out a lippy chuckle forcing his belly to jiggle and his mustache to bounce.
"'ow can ye use that as money? Ye can't even eat it in a pinch? 'ow is that useful?" said the man as he bit into a nugget.
"I'm not sure, my good, poorly-pronounced man, however I do believe it is better than nothing. I am told that some local towns use gold as a currency. It may be in our interest, I do believe, that we request a change of payment from lollipops to gold nuggets, gold bars, and-or gold coins. Yes." He looked quite proud of his ability to keep a crowds undivided attention. His mustache was beaming.
"I think you should do what they say, sir. They do have a pillar," warned Collarton.
After struggling with his better judgment, Reginald finally replied. "Take your stupid gold nuggets, gold bars, and-or gold coins," the eloquent man looked offended, "but, I'm deducted from your pay for the cost of the pillar." The crowed cocked the pillar up toward him. "Fine, just take your payment."
With nearly all of his gold gone, Reginald sat in a small, wooden chair, depressed. "Sir," said Collarton, "this may be an improper time to say this, but I also require my payment." Reginald reached into his pocket, grabbed a bright green lollipop, licked it and fell into a slump, blissfully comatose. Collarton walked over to a small sack of coins left on a desk, grabbed it, and walked out.
I know it's a bit long for flash fiction, but it just meets the criteria.
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Post by kevinjenkinsauthor on May 31, 2013 17:12:47 GMT -5
"Calm down, gentlemen," the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. "There's enough lollipops for everyone."
Jon Flag was standing by the door, making sure everything went the way it was supposed to. The man with the scraggly gray beard was Dave Floose, the homeless witness of the murder of Scott Commed.
"There's no time for jokes!" Judge Madding shouted.
"Your Honor, the homeless around Sungod call photographs lollipops," stated the sexy lawyer Courtney Shaye. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, a long one that fell down her shoulder to her the upper part of her breast. Over he white shirt was a fancy black lawyer's coat. He heels were so tall that she could barely walk. That's what she got for having them specially made at sixteen inches. But to be even 5'6" she needed them.
"My bad," Judge Madding said. He continued, "Now, show us the 'lollipops.'"
The homeless man showed the Judge the photos of the murder and Shaniqua Maury was charged with second degree murder.
THREE YEARS LATER...
The homeless man, Matt Albert, was given twenty dollars by an anonymous woman, as the envelope said. The envelope also said that he was not allowed to by any kind of alcohol. He bought a twenty dollar Mega Millions ticket, know he would never win but thought he would try anyway.
He was standing outside of the TV store, watching the drawing through the window.
As the shot up through the tubes, he read over his numbers.
"What? I can't believe it! I won!"
When he got his jackpot of 397 million dollars, he decided he would spend it to start the company he's always dreamed of starting.
TWO YEARS LATER...
His company had just his a net worth of ten billion dollars and he decided to have a celebration party with his coworkers.
At the celebration part, they had wine and some various foods.
"Proposing a toast is what I'd like to do, tonight. To ten billion more!" he shouted.
Glasses clinked together when someone burst through the door.
"Caught you! I said you weren't allowed to buy alcohol with the twenty dollars I gave you! But it all leads up to this! And you ended up buying two hundred bottles of wine!"
THE END
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Post by thesilverketchup on May 31, 2013 20:47:10 GMT -5
Licking the Lollipop
“Calm down, gentlemen," the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. "There's enough lollipops for everyone.”
“I’m no fool Hank,” said one lawyer, “There are twenty lollipops and about thirty of us. And I know most of you are no good at sharing.” His eyes shifted about the room.
“I want all of ‘em!” said a doctor with a bowtie. A drone of gentlemen-like grunting came from the crowd, all agreeing with him.
“Let’s not become savages, these lollipops are a gift, a treasure, and they should not be used selfishly. I called you all here under the assumption that the lollipops would be used in a mature manner. I guess I was wrong.” Hank held the box of lollipops a bit closer to his chest.
“I think, he just wants the lollies for himself!” a giddy psychiatrist yelled. The crowd of professionals began walking towards Hank with determined faces. Some of them licked their lips.
“Don’t do this gentleman, it will only end badly,” Hank warned. But his words fell on ears that were far too overstuffed with knowledge to accept any advice. They all lunged at him. Hank managed to dodge their hands and pushed his way through the crowd. He ran for the door holding the box like a football. I’ve got to get away from these fools was all he could think of.
Hank fumbled opening the door and slid through as quickly as he could, scraping his knee on the doorframe. He found himself standing in front of a parking lot. Where did I park? He thought, Why do I always forget? Only a few feet behind him the professionals began flooding out of the building. Hank had no choice but to run through the parking lot and hope to find his vehicle.
Hank only had a quick glance at each car he sprinted passed. Any slower and the mob behind him would catch up. “Lollies!” one shouted with hands raised in the air. Hank took half a moment to see if each car was his. No, no, no, ugly, no, no, yes! He had found his car, but it was hardly a victory because he had already run three cars passed it. He tried to turn around but then realized it was a mistake when a dentist grabbed hold of his coat.
The box was flung from his hands and soared forward. It landed right in front of a SUV whose tires quickly flattened the box and all of its contents. The driver didn’t care however and sped away. What followed was some of the most pathetic cries one could ever hear. All the professionals rushed to the box to mourn over the shattered contents.
“Oh God why?”
“How could this happen to my lollipops?”
“Just kill me you cruel world!”
“Anything but the candy!” one said while cradling the box.
While they wept for the lollipops, one of them turned around in tears and yelled at Hank, still on the ground.
“Just look at what you’ve done. Think about what we could have done with those lollipops. We would have been gods of intellect!”
Hank got up slowly. He looked beyond the man into the infinite horizon. He stood there thinking for a few seconds. Then he reached a conclusion in his mind, and spoke with a deep and wise voice.
“Maybe we could have been gods. The formula in those lollipops would have increased our brain power tenfold. Our minds would have conceived ideas far beyond our current comprehension. But what if it’s better without that sort of knowledge? We would lose our connection to the rest of the human race. Just think about how we look down on the beasts of this world with their lower intelligence. We would look upon everyone in that same way. And what does knowledge give us over the animals? When we ate from the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil all we gained was comprehension of our own mortality and failures, and greed for the unnecessary. Look at the greed you all had. Who knows what other horrors would achieve with expanding our minds even further? We could have been gods, but at what cost? So I ask you, I ask every member of humanity: Would you lick the lollipop?”
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Post by jessiestevenson on Jun 2, 2013 2:24:07 GMT -5
“Calm down, gentlemen,” the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. “There’s enough lollipops for everyone.” Thomas, one of the business men, glared the dealer down, his face tightening with rage. “How do we know that? You heard the reports, just like everyone else in this goddamn hell-hole! No more shipments for two months! What are you giving us?!” An overall agreement surged throughout the crowd, while some stood still in shock and others shoved their companions away to confront the illegal chemist.
The bearded perpetrator took a few steps back, putting as much space between him and the mob as possible, and tried to regain his composure. "People, I have this under control. What I'm giving you is fine, I, I am saving your life!" he spit out now getting defensive. "You'll die without the medicine, but the FDA is too ignorant to figure it out, so they're gonna let you die while they trudge through their political bullshit!" The crowd had went silent, all accept for one doctor. “You have no idea what you are doing! You poisoned us!” she screamed in a frail voice. The bearded man stared back at her, unfazed. “Ma’am, I’m afraid you have already been poisoned, just like the rest of us.” When she didn’t reply, he looked at the rest of the crowd, taking advantage of everyone’s indecision. “Unless you all want to debate your demise, help me pull out the boxes of vials for all of you.” With those final words, he walked away, hoping the crowd would agree with him. Thomas looked between the speaker and his colleagues, and silently asked for his families forgiveness before following the bearded man to his garage of “lollipops”. Many followed, while the rest left, unsure if they were walking into their grave.
Thomas ended up driving away with six gallons of untested, unapproved chemicals that he planned to inject to his wife’s, his children’s, and his own blood. He had bought five of the gallons but had stolen one while the dealer wasn’t looking in the heat of the moment. In his head he kept on thinking of ways to make it back to that van and return the stolen gallon, heck, return all the gallons. If he took a left at Parker street he would be able to reach the west intersection, then he would be able to reach that one shop… but it was useless. If he drove back he would either just turn around again or take two more gallons. He was desperate, and failure was not an option. Not now. The streets were dead empty, and after driving around a kingdom of abandoned cars, he had made it home.
“Tom, shut the door!” Anne shouted. He responded with the “deer in the headlights” look for two seconds, then turned around and slammed the door shut, using his hip. The rest of his body was busy totting the jugs inside the house. Anne rushed to her husband’s side and grabbed a few of the cartons, hauling them to the kitchen. “Honey?” she asked once the jugs were put down. “It was released that the shipments wouldn’t come for a while.”
“I know…” Tom opened a drawer, then after a few seconds, slammed it shut.
“Then what is this?” Tom opened another drawer, then slammed it again.
“It’s the replacements. I need out needles, where are they?”
“I’m not stabbing myself with another needle until I know what it is!”
“Look, a smaller state-wide program was giving them out for free! They’re fine.” He lied. He avoided eye contact.
“Do you expect me to believe that? Do you honestly take me for that big of an idiot?!”
“Until we know what’s going on, I’m going to need you to be an idiot,” Thomas found his government –given syringes and grabbed a jug of medicine. He wasn’t even a foot closer to his destination when his wife grabbed his arm. “I won’t let you poison my children Tom. I can’t let you do that.”
“Are you going to let Mara die? How about Nathan?”
“No! But I’m not gonna-“
“There is a chance of this keeping them alive. Giving them nothing will lead to their death!” Anne stood silent. That was all there was. Silence. During that long minute no sound whatsoever, her face shifted from angry to bitter to fearful. That seemed to be the face she wore the longest. When she had reached her conclusion she grabbed another carton and walked downstairs to her son’s room, side by side with Thomas.
Nathan was fiddling with various computer cables when his parents came in. “Made any progress?” Tom asked. Nathan sighed and shook his head. “You’ve got the lollipops?” Nathan asked. His father nodded and smiled, remembering the nickname everyone gave to the injections at first. At least, his son told him everyone did. Tom didn’t use the internet very much before it shut down. “Is Mara okay?” Anne asked. “She’s just sleeping over there,” Nathan pointed to his bed. Anne nodded, then poked a hole in the gallon of medicine. She carefully poured the liquids into all four shots, then pushed these liquids into each of their bodies. Later on they went to bed, unknowing of what the future held, of who would die, and most of all, why they were all making such a fuss over the common cold.
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Post by jdrhoads on Jun 2, 2013 15:59:25 GMT -5
Alone in a mad world
"Calm down, gentlemen," the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. "There's enough lollipops for everyone."
But not even one face turned toward him, even when he happily climbed to a bench and stars pointing and shouting at them "you sir, you want the strawberry one, right?", following with his finger as their kept walking."Come on pal you know you want the lemon one."
I guess they ate their portion of society already, he thought, as his hands slowly went to get a hold on his old brown overcoat's pockets.
Wandering stealthily as one more, standing in the middle of all, feeling alone in a mad world while they pass by his side, as if he were a wall. Elegantly taking out his guns and shooting randomly one besuited after another. They were too many and he didn't want to start a riot. Not that they even notices, rushed to get wherever they need, practically steeping on the fallen corpses. Some get down right away, but the ones who didn't get a kill shot they were still desperately trying to get to work, before they were stepped by they besuited fellows.
With the same elegance put away his guns, thinking "God, i hate besuited men." quietly leaving by the front door where she was waiting for him. She should be about twenty years less than him, naive, childish and super in love.
"Hey Maxi, did you had fun?", Anabelle said while they walk beside each other, away from the brand new building.
"Yeah.. i wanna say it wasn't what i expected, but i didn't know what the hell to expect, so lets say it was OK." Making a little smile for her, expecting that she would laugh too. And she did.
"Besides it seemed that they didn't knew they were getting killed".
"What?". A women's disturbed voice behind Anabelle said.
He noticed her and said back,"What?"
"What did you just said?" this time with a horror face on her.
"Oh.. i wasn't talking to you", and both Anabelle and Max starts to cracking in laugh as they walk away.
"Come on", he said,"I feel religious today, lets go to wash my sins away."
There was no one in the church, he could see it from far away. The enormous doors were wide open and you could see how far it gets, and from closer how high and hollow. A priest enters the confessional as they put one step inside.
"Stay here, I'm the sinner."
"Okay but hurry up." she said while putting a gentle kiss on Max's check.
Walking through the hall, opening the door of the confessional.
"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.", the priest said with a calm voice.
"Amen. Forgive me Father, for i have sinned. It has been.. too long since my last confession. My sin is greed, i have desired something.
Something that I just try to many times to get and I couldn't, so i stole it. I stole Bob's eaten hamburgers trophy."
"What? Is this some kind of joke?"
"Haha I'm just screwing with you Father. That's a nice suit by the way."
"Son please do not curse in the house of the Lord, and I don't understand what are you saying."
"Okay lets make it short. Forgive me Father for i will sin."
A bullet passes through the confessional wood wall and into the priest's chest.
They were running holding hands and laughing, but it didn't last long before the police appears being aware of the situation. He was captured while she ran away.
His sanity soon started to crack into pieces in jail. By the end of his first month in, he stabbed another prisoner to death.
"Why you did it? We know you're here for the matter of killing people, but why this particularly person?" the doctor asked.
"Don't know.. no reason why.. trying to.. get respected?" angry but slowly Max said.
"Now come on Maxwell Grey you know that ain't true" said with disappointing, "You remember Anabelle Grey? your wife."
"Of course I remember her."
"Did you remember she died?"
Max's eyes were wide open while he remember all. The memories weren't clear as day, just pieces of a broken mirror.
Walking down the street with her, "I'm the mood for lollipops, lets go to the store across the street."she said.
Then he grabbing the drunk driver angrily by the shirt and showing him what he just do.
In the hospital, the doctor comes out the room, "Sorry, there wasn't anything we can do, it was already too late."
"Oh God.. what about the baby, is there something you could do for the baby?"
"Hold on a second." the doctor enter the room again for a few minutes.
"Sorry but the baby was too premature."
"You didn't even knew she was pregnant, did you?" angrily and out himself trying to hit the doctor.
Leaving out of court, "Okay he got six months to one year in jail." the lawyer with a smile of satisfaction said.
"He kills my wife and my baby and the only thing you get were six months, I'm out here."
His face became serious again,"Yeah, I remember."
The doctor still disappointed said, "I'm so sorry Max I try, but they're going to give the death penitence."
The man with the scraggly gray beard was alone siting in his cell, the priest has already left. He think it for a second then pull out the wiring from beneath the mattress.
The fences outside supposed to be electrified, but he cut out some and make it look like someone escaped. No one will ever suspect that someone kept the wiring, and less of the hole in the sealing where they perfectly pass through.
"All i have done wasn't enough to keep you by my side, lets hope this would be, Anabelle."
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grea
New Member
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Post by grea on Jun 3, 2013 10:48:50 GMT -5
Hey there... Before i post my story just wanted to say to Travis - You sir, have inspired me to move from thinking about writing to.. you know.. writing. I have no illusions about ever supporting myself but my plan is to write and publish for my own pleasure once i get to the stage of being a GP. Till then I'm doing short/serialized stories and building my own scifi/fantasy world. This has inspired me to get into flash-fiction too. This represents only my 5th finished piece since high-school so... anything anyone wants to say for input i would hugely appreciate! Word count is 810words.  The Guilty Rustle“Calm down, gentlemen,” The man with the scraggly grey beard said, backing away from the rush of be-suited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. “there's enough lollipops for everyone.” It was true – in theory. In practice the rotund politicians, lawyers and doctors were scrambling about like a flock of Christmas geese in their self interested attempts to grab upwards of five lollies each. The CEO of the Health Organization for the World (HOW) frowned, and brushing a few errant locks of salt-and-pepper hair away from his pudgy face continued. “I hereby declare the one hundredth HOW-to conference on health inequalities open. This is an auspicious occasion. Not because today, June 1st 3013, marks one century of our efforts to help elevate the health and happiness of the planets most vulnerable. No...” The CEO paused, slowly panning his eyes across the room at the representatives, a few of whom reciprocated by lowering their hands from their greedy, gaping, mouths – though the rustling of crisp packets still permeated like so many over-sized crickets. “Today is auspicious because it is obvious that a hundred years of earnest attendance by delegates of all countries big and small has not reduced inequality of health in our world. Today, in 3013, the life expectancy of our poorest in every country is a mere half of what it was one hundred years ago, when this problem was first identified.” Slowly, but inexorably, the slurping, chewing and even the rustling of the crisp-wrappers came to an end. One-hundred-and-ninety-six grey haired heads focused in on the CEO in a guilty tableaux. “Our analysts have identified two root issues that, if solved, could reduce local and international inequalities by in excess of ninety-five percent. Presenting the first will be Doctor Cain, of the United Kingdom. Speaking to the second will be Doctor Abel, of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Gentleman, you have the floor!” Mopping the sweat from his brow the CEO quit the stage and collapsed into his chair with a sigh, regaining his breath in deep, desperate, rasps. Dr Cain assaulted the stairs to the stage, conquering them barely. He leaned heavily on the podium which creaked ominously under his weight. Clearing his throat he addressed the audience. “Ladies, gentlemen, I have to present to you today a problem of considerable import. It will be the subject of many workshops during the week. However as I am aware that lunchtime is on the horizon I will endeavor, during this introduction, to be brief.” The representatives settled a bit at the mention of lunch. Aware that he now had their attention, Cain moved onto the meat of the matter. “Nearly one third of our world's population has diabetes, and almost all of this group are obese. This problem is worst for the so called 'ninety-nine percent' who – unable to afford truly free choice in their diet and leisure actives – are at the whims of a market that subjects them to the 'obesogenic environment' for the sake of their own, self interested, profits. Furthermore; the knock on effects of this burden up on society, which takes the form of epidemic levels of heart attacks, stroke, blindness and bone infections, has brought the provision of public health services all but to a standstill. This comparatively happy situation is only true for those lucky enough to live in a country with truly universal health care.” A number of piercing, accusatory glances, were cast at the surgeon general for the united states of America – who hid his face in a packet of cheese and onion crisps. “So there you have it! Nearly one in three people on our world has diabetes, and is obese.” A smattering of applause followed as Dr Cain slowly extracted himself from behind the podium. Attention quickly changed however to a white suited, black skinned, figure that bounded up the stairs and , frustrated at how long Cain was taking to remove himself, took the microphone from the podium and walked to the front of the stage as he addressed the crowd. “I'm sorry ; ladies, gentlemen, Dr Cain. I'm sorry for rushing onto this stage and hurrying to address you in a manner most unbecoming of this august conference. However, I have just been informed that as it is nearly lunch time I should only have one minute to put to you the other problem to which the CEO eluded, and which will be the topic of Friday evening's workshop.” Dr Able paused, his acute visage pinning each representative in their seat and making them his captive audience. “So I will say to you briefly, and abruptly, nearly two thirds of our world's population is malnourished. They are dying, because they are starving.” The hall was quiet, save only for the deafening rustle of a hundred self-interested packets of crisps. |
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Post by Travis McBee on Jun 7, 2013 19:52:25 GMT -5
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to choose a winner. They were all really good, so it was tough. I've sent the winner a direct message, so check your inboxes. And thanks to everyone that did the challenge!
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Post by Velox on Jun 9, 2013 16:25:13 GMT -5
Gah! I had such demands on my time the past few days it was really hard to concentrate/write. I hope that it's okay; it didn't come out exactly as I wanted.
The Cure
"Calm down, gentlemen," the man with the scraggly gray beard said, backing away from the rush of besuited lawyers, doctors, and miscellaneous professionals. "There's enough lollipops for everyone."
“Dr. Jackson! This is no time for jokes!” shouted a woman from among the crowd.
“Tell us about the injections!” cried a man in near-hysteria. “How many do you have?”
“I want the shot, I don’t care how much it will cost! I’ll give you anything!”
Dr. Fred Jackson scratched at his chin as he watched the scene unfold. The room had erupted in chaos after his announcement of a cure, each person demanding the medicine, that they deserved it more. In the turmoil, an older man was toppled and trampled. The security team pushed forward, trying to keep the frantic mob from charging the podium. It took several minutes and threats of pepper spray for order to be restored.
He would be a savior to these people.
After a lengthy silence, Dr. Jackson said, “Please, remain calm. Although supplies are limited, I currently have enough medicine prepared to treat this entire room. We are running slightly behind schedule, but my staff’s readying everything as we speak. In the meantime, let me explain a little more about the disease, then I would be happy to answer questions or concerns you may have.
“I’ve been studying the plague from the safety of my compound soon after the first cases emerged.”
The pathogen, the doctor explained, had been traced back to the tropical rainforests of the Yunnan Province in China. Here it was contracted by workers and brought into the cities, and among these dense populations it spread with frightening speed.
“I have actually discovered that earlier stages consist of a state of mild psychosis that includes grandiose delusions, and visual and auditory hallucinations. This, of course, is followed by the well-known fever and chills. Within two to three days skin lesions appear, and the pathogen spreads through these lesions via direct and indirect physical contact. However, necrosis of bone marrow and liver are also common. I’ve also observed hemorrhaging, including hyphema and hemorrhagic eruptions. The final stages consist of seizures, coma, and death.
“Initially I thought it was a prion disease, but further studies revealed it to be a virus. Specifically, I believe it to be a retrovirus. This means that, with the lack of checking in the RNA replication process, this pathogen can mutate very rapidly. This is partly why it’s been so hard to treat. It is not unconceivable that this thing could become airborne with devastating effects.”
Looks of fear multiplied and spread around the room.
“As you can see,” the doctor concluded, “time is of the essence. This disease must be brought under control. I understand some of you may have safety concerns, and you are free to leave if you wish, but I urge you to get the treatment. Our future may depend upon it.”
A sharp-dressed man with perfectly combed hair, a lawyer from the look of him, raised his voice. “What about the open sores and necrosis of flesh caused by the Red Plague? Will the shots cure them?
“The treatment will prevent such lesions from forming, but cannot reverse the damage I’m afraid. It’s caused by cell lysis as the virus emerges after replication. The cells are destroyed in this process. The treatment works primarily by impeding the replication process, reducing it’s spread.”
“Why us?” asked a timid voice. A woman with short blonde hair fidgeted nervously as attention turned to her. “I mean, this pandemic decimated the world’s population within the first month of the outbreak. Public services have been shut down. The economy has collapsed. It’s a Category 5 pandemic. It’s affecting everyone. Surely others deserve a chance!”
Dr. Jackson nodded slowly. “Yes, I quite agree. I will indeed eventually share this amazing discovery with the general public. However, I think it most important to save our best and brightest first, those who can help others by getting this treatment. Wouldn’t you agree?”
There was a murmur of ascent from the crowd.
“There can be a extended latency period – there some indications that it can be as long as 4 months – during which the person may be asymptomatic, but still infectious. We will be testing each of you first, as the treatment is dangerous to those who are not infected.”
Light-headedness and loss of consciousness are among the side effects, so you will be asked to lie down on a gurney while an IV line is established. The treatment consists of three shots in succession.”
Dr. Jackson caught sight of his assistant at the back of the room, and addressed the crowd, “I believe everything is ready. If you would follow Mr. Walsh,” Dr. Jackson indicated his assistant, “to the examination rooms, we can begin the process.”
As the procession left the conference room (save for the blonde-haired woman and a few other idlers) via the wide double doors, Dr. Jackson retired to his office. This would be his first mass treatment of sufferers of the Red Plague. Each patient would be give 10g of liquid pentobarbital, followed by large doses of pancuronium bromide and potassium chloride. He hoped it would be enough.
Some time later, his assistant, Nathaniel Walsh, knocked lightly on the open office door and entered carrying a clipboard.
“Status update, sir.”
The doctor nodded. “Proceed.”
Walsh rattled off statistics quickly, nervously, referring to his clipboard often. “Thirty-four opted for treatment. Of these, twenty-nine tested positive and have been given the treatment successfully. The remaining five were given the saline solution and an appointment for a follow-up in the near future. Eight declined, despite pressure from our staff. They were given a midazolam cocktail per your instructions. Six tested positive and were forcibly given the treatment. The remaining two were escorted to the coaching room and await dynamic instruction.”
Rubbing his eyes, Dr. Jackson stood slowly. “Very good Nathaniel. Prepare the fires and I shall be along shortly to oversee the clean-up and disposal.”
The younger man inclined his head and turned to leave, but then paused. “Sir?”
“Yes, my boy?”
“You- you’re sure this is the right thing to do?”
“Nathaniel, this is not the time for doubts. We must do God’s work. In this time of strife, we must save as many as we can. We must heal the sick. You know as well as I that the End Times are upon us. Never before as mankind seen such a disease.
“By sending these people on and destroying their earthbound prisons of flesh, we slow the spread of the disease and purify more people than we otherwise could have.
“After all, death is the cure of all ailments.”
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grea
New Member
Posts: 2
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Post by grea on Jun 13, 2013 2:02:53 GMT -5
Yo travis! Don't sweat it on the taking your time business. You're and actual publishing author - can't imagine how buisy that is!
Unrelated - what does everyone think about reading our stories in video responses to the winner's reading? Id like to hear some of the above read by the author =).
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