There is a new Baltimore-based blog afoot in the intertubes known as Weekly Writing Assignment – an interesting site which issues a weekly writing challenge and solicits entries from readers. The first challenge, issued yesterday, involves writing a 300 word MAXIMUM story which must use the following 15 words:
- esophagus
- California
- propaganda
- imbue
- chortle
- bravado
- dictate
- cacophony
- break
- margin
- fetter
- buzz
- segue
- cajole
- command
Are you up to the challenge? Because I sure as hell am. In fact, I have already banged out my first entry with record speed, which I call “JCVD: A day in the life.” Its literary wonderment knows no bound or equal. Contest over. Read it until your eyes cry blood.
The Killer Propaganda gang buzzed around me in the California jungle, chanting ooga-boogas from their masks. “I never did like rap,” I said, imbuing my fist with the power of the Flesh-Swan of Fury. I naturally segued into battle stance and plunged my fist into one guy’s guts while simultaneously shattering the iron fetters binding my arms.
“Looks like you just don’t have the stomach for violence,” I quipped as I yanked out his organs. Then I turned around and flip-kicked another gang member straight through his esophagus. “JCVD doesn’t have a margin for error!” I exclaimed, noting my laser-like kicking accuracy as his neck exploded.
“Let me ex-spleen to you how this works.” I punted another’s spleen through two trees shaped like a field goal and a bunch of monkeys in the trees cheered in a great cacophony of screeches and gore.
One bad guy tried to grab me but I pulled another patented JCVD maneuver and kicked up with a razor hidden in my big toe, gashing his face five times before he could even blink his eyelids that I had instantly severed. “You’re toe-tally dead,” I chortled as his face exploded.
The last Propaganda member held up his hands and offered me his wallet, maybe he wanted to take a break. But I dictated otherwise; “Can’t cajole me with wallets!” I grabbed him by the dreadlocks and suplexed him with great bravado into a fire ant mound. Immediately every ant ran up his asshole and ate him from the inside out. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’m feeling a little antsy.”
I lowered my shades and whistled a command. My model 3.0 KITT screeched up in a cloud of dust and I rode off, back home to shoot another blockbuster action film.
If you’re dumb enough to try to go toe-to-toe with this epic tale, submissions are due by midnight, July 27th.