Wednesday, August 8, 2007

I won an award!

My fanfic, "Cheetos Dust", won the prestigious "Internet Writers" award for Best of 2007! I will include the story and the award below:


Cheetos Dust 1

A short while ago, in a sloppy, dilapidated trailer park far, far away (Canada) there lived a stinky, tubby, vicious little club foot retard called Slammin' Sammy. She was a pathetic little creature whose only creative outlet was poorly written Fan Fictions about WWE wrestlers and people she knows on the internet (whether she likes them or not).

She would spend her days groveling in her Pop-Tart and Cheetos filth of a trailer, endlessly writing away her inane stories to the applause of her single-cell brained audience. The only time she went out is when rescue workers cut out a wall to bathe her with a fire hose (and restock her beer-battered bacon-wrapped Twinkies).

Then one day the most spectacular thing happened! During one of her narcotics induced delusional fits, The Undertaker, Paul Bearer, and Darth Vader all appeared from the forest! Undertaker was dressed as Kermit the Frog, Paul as Kool Aid Man, and Darth Vader as Mickey Mouse! This is what happened…

"Oh my gawly I can't believe what I'm seeing. *snort snort* Its all of my idols!!!! LOL!"

"Dear Lord, woman, when is the last time someone took down a wall and hosed you off, this is disgusting"

"Oooooohhhh yyyyeeeesssssssss!"

"I should use my lightsaber to trim some fat off this hog."

"Yeah."

"Where's Snow White?"

"You mean the other pointless character that gets mentioned in erstwhile dialogue just so I can say he or she was included in my story?"

"Yeah."

"She took Dopey and Slimy to the WWE event."

"Who did?"

"*drool* Slow down guys! I cain't tell which one-of-yas is talking!", said Slammin' Sammy deliriously.

"What does it matter, FanFic dialogue is always like this!"

After the men got done being horrified at Slammin' Sammy's squalor and finished verbally berating her, Darth Vader used the dark side of the force to break all of her fingers beyond repair, so the world would be spared her ramblings online. The Undertaker took her 28.8K modem and covered it with Lime Jello, guaranteeing that Slammin' Sammy would wolf it down and forever rid us of her existence on the internet.

Oh, yeah, Slammin' Sammy is an orphan that was actually prematurely born with scorpion DNA that made her telepathic and made her prone to sexual assault by professional wrestlers (drunk hillbillies from the trailer park).


Cheetos Dust 2


After the departure of not only Kermitaker, Paul-Aid Man, and Mickey Vader, but of her dignity and ability to foul up the internet with her drivel, Slammin' Sammy decided there was only one thing she could do: Use a magic spell to give her cybernetic hands that act as online keyboards! That way her writing productivity could expand exponentially (to 15 WPM).

She hollered to the trailer next door, "Mary Jane! Quit slurping down that gawl-dang spaghetti and light some black candles fer me!"

As Mary Jane came in the room, her heightened munchies-senses detected Lime Jello and she quickly gobbled down Slammin' Sammy's 28.8k modem.

"Mmmm…that was dee-lishus!"

"Ya gawl darm idjit! Ya just got done eating mah brand new modem!!! I'ma gonna hafta use mah old 14.4! Dang you, Mary Jane!"

"I'm sorry, Sammy…please don't cast any spells on me! It will really freak me out, man."

"Just shuddup and light mah black candles…I'ma gonna summon an ancient and evil Pagan Demon…TWINKIE THE KID!"

After an intense and complicated summoning session, Twinkie the Kid appeared and gave Slammin' Sammy everything she wanted. I could go into more detail about interesting occult rituals here, but why bother?

"Awl-right, Mary Jane! With mah new robot-hand-thingies, we can take over the dang internets…one fanfic board atta time! *cough cough* Dang, Mary Jane! That shit is skunky!"

"What?"


Cheetos Dust 3


After they opened the cracked, stained windows of the archaic trailer to let the smoke out, Slammin' Sammy and Mary Jane started their plot for revenge on the internet. During the summoning ritual, Twinkie the Kid had revealed that all of Slammin' Sammy's life difficulties and hardships were due to an elite group of internet hackers, the Alienz.


Much good could be written of the Alienz, but to summarize, it consisted of highly intelligent, respected, and inordinately sexually appealing members of the online Creature of the Night community. Their leader was a handsome and daring young man by the name of "The Dynamic Drom". His two trusted lieutenants were "The X-hilirating Xenodrake" and "Charismatic Kankie". Together, they ruled justly and fair over all Creatures of the Night online. One might say they were even the most respected non-Nobel Prize winning philanthropists in the entire world. Gandhi actually resurrected himself just so he could give Drom a high-five.


Now, what could the Alienz have possibly done to draw the ire of the feared and gruesome Twinkie the Kid? Basically, they realized that Twinkies are fucking disgusting and stopped eating them. Luckily for Twinkie the Kid, Slammin' Sammy and Mary Jane eat enough Twinkies to save a rain forest each time they get stoned. That's a lot of Twinkies, folks.


So, as Sammy and Mary Jane schemed, they had a revelation so profound that it was difficult for this author to put into writing:


"Hey, Sammy, what if, like, we became virtual reality and, like, totally went inside the computer, man?"


"Well, shiver mah timbers, Mary Jane! Mebbe ah kin use mah NEW robot-hand-thingies ta do JUST THAT! Aw-HEE! *snort*"


"Far out, man!"


"Let's hook up muh 14.4k modem, and unlock t3h p0w3r 0f t3h 1nt3rn3t5!!!11! LOL!"


Fourteen hours, 20 joints, and a metric ton of Cheetos later, Slammin Sammy's highly advanced computer configuration finally loaded Google.com. It was time for them to begin their onslaught of cellulitic vengeance on the Alienz!


"Aw, dang, Mary Jane! Ah thought of the perfect thing. Ah will go to their gum darn message board and tell them it's their fault that ah'm a fat little worthless retard locked up in a meager existence in a trashy, run-down trailer park in "Middleofnowheresville", Fucking Canada, and that I am not to blame for my 800/600 blood pressure, my seventy five chins, or the fact I have to put toilet paper on the end of a meter stick just to wipe my ass. THE ALIENZ ARE TO BLAME!"


"Whoa, man...like, what was that again?" *cough*


Later, on the best message board that ever existed...


"Egads, good Creatures! What is this?", exclaimed the hearty and robust voice of the extremely virile Drom.


"Good Lord, man, it appears that some meandering ne'r-do-well has besmirched our fine community board!", replied the living persona of class and dignity that is called Xenodrake.


"There is only one solution to such tomfoolery by ninny-hammers!", unquestioned in her beauty and graciousness, Kankie retorted.


The three Alienz winked at each other and knew what had to be done. Drom raced at lightning speeds to the Batmobile! Xenodrake moved at all haste to the Batcycle! Kankie traversed beyond comprehensible velocity to the Batpickup!


All at once, "Head 'em up and move 'em out, Alienz!"


Within moments the Alienz had accelerated from their underground hideout and had made way to the Canadian border. The Alienz had no momentum stop at the border, seeing as they had saved Bret "The Hitman" Hart from drowning once, and were named Canadian National Heroes and given the Key to the Country.


It was shortly before midnight when they all throttled down to a mild roar. The full moon was shining high above the trees, and starlight outlined a grimy, cesspool of a trailer park. The Alienz had arrived.


"Please be careful in there, m'ladies. We know not what manner of brute or ruffian lies within!", pleaded Drom.


"A touching thought, Drom, but please never worry about 'The Ladies'. We always come prepared.", interjected Kankie.


"Oh?", puzzled Drom.


"We brought flamethrowers. And guns. And plastique explosives.", Xenodrake clarified.
It was at this point our brave heroes entered the foul region of "Gravel Ridge Heights Manufactured Housing Community". It was dark, dank, and disgusting. Empty bottles of Molson were littered about the cigarette butts and spare truck parts in the lawns. Luckily, Slammin' Sammy's house was easy enough to find. All the Alienz had to do was follow the stench of cheap ass fucking ditch weed those posers smoked.


"*snort snort* HAW HAW! We defaced they-ar message board, and dere ain't a gum gawly dum darn thing they cain't do 'bout it!"


"Yeah, man...groovy!"


It was at this point, the Alienz made a moral decision. Using their profound intellect, they determined there was no punishment they could inflict, justified or otherwise, that could possibly be as horrible and wretched as leaving Slammin' Sammy the way she was.


However, they hadn't driven all the fucking way to Canada with pounds and pounds of sem-tex just to turn the other cheek, so they did the next best thing:


They blew up the Hostess Outlet Store, and all of the beer-battered-bacon-wrapped-Twinkies contained therein. The Alienz had a good laugh about it on the way home, and celebrated in the Honeycomb Hideout with a fat blunt of grade-A fucking Hydro.


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