# April 2017 - LM - Pouch Cream



## kilroy214 (Apr 2, 2017)

*LITERARY MANEUVERS
*
*Pouch Cream*​
The winner will receive a badge pinned to their  profile and given a month’s access to FoWF where you’ll have access to  hidden forums and use of the chat room. 

This is a Fiction writing competition, and the prompt, you asked for it, and you got it, '*Pouch Cream*' Pick your own title, write about whatever you want, as long as it's related in some way to the prompt.


 The Judges for this LM are: danielstj, kilroy214 and TBA*
*If you want to judge and I left  you out, send me your scores by the deadline. If you're listed here and  don't wish to judge, let me know at once (please).

 All entries that wish to retain their first rights should post in the _LM Workshop Thread_.

 All Judges scores will be PMed to *kilroy214*. 

All anonymous entries will be PMed to *kilroy214*.


*Rules*





*All forum rules apply.* The LM competition is considered a creative area of the forum. If your story contains inappropriate language or content, do _not_ forget add a disclaimer or it could result in disciplinary actions taken. Click *here* for the full list of rules and guidelines of the forum.
*No Poetry!*  Nothing against you poets out there, but this isn’t a place for your  poems. Head on over to the poetry challenges for good competition over  there. Some of us fiction people wouldn’t be able to understand your  work! Click *here* for the poetry challenges. Play the prose-poem game at your own risk.
*No posts that are not entries into the competition are allowed.* If you have any questions, concerns, or wish to take part in discussion please head over to the *LM Coffee Shop. *We’ll be glad to take care of your needs over there.
*Editing your entry after posting isn’t allowed.* You’ll be given a ten minute grace period, but after that your story may not be scored.
*Only one entry per member.*
*The word limit is 650 words not including the title.*  If you go over - Your story will not be counted. Microsoft Word is the  standard for checking this. If you are unsure of the word count and  don't have Word, please send your story to me and I'll check it for you.




*There are a few ways to post your entry:*






If you aren't too concerned about your first rights, then you can simply post your entry here in this thread.
You can opt to have your entry posted in the* Workshop* which  is a special thread just for LM entries. You would put your story there  if you wish to protect your first rights, in case you wish to have the  story published one day. Note: If you do post it in the  workshop thread, you must post a link to it here in this thread  otherwise your story may not be counted.
You may  post your story anonymously. To do so, send your story to the host of  the competition. If you wish to have us post it in the workshop thread  then say so. Your name will be revealed upon the release of the score.





Everyone is welcome to participate. A  judge's entry will receive a review by their fellow judges, but it will  not receive a score. Please refrain from 'like'-ing or 'lol'-ing an  entry until the scores are posted.

Judges: In the tradition of LM competitions  of yore, if you could send the scores one week after deadline it will  ensure a timely release of scores and minimize the overall  implementation of porkforking. Please see the *Judging Guidelines* if you have questions. Following the suggested formatting will be much appreciated, too. 

*This competition will close on:*Sunday, the 16th of April at 11:59 PM, GMT time. (Easter Sunday, I believe)​
Scores would be appreciated by Sunday, the 30th of April. 

Click here for the current time. ​


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## godofwine (Apr 3, 2017)

*Play Ball by Godofwine - 650 Words (Strong Language)*


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## Phil Istine (Apr 3, 2017)

Link removed (by Phil Istine)


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## The Fantastical (Apr 4, 2017)

I am entering this month with - The Inciting Incident


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## plawrence (Apr 4, 2017)

I'm new here, but I thought I'd try this and see what y'all think.  I know this will be considered as published, but I have no plans to include it in anything I might want to publish commercially, so I'll paste it in here. I titled this The Outing.



> The Outing
> 
> Danielle rushed to pull her skirt up and put her shoes on.  She could hardly contain her excitement.  Daddy was taking her to the animal farm today, and she was going to see a kangaroo for the very first time, up close and personal.  A kangaroo!  She raced out of her room and yelled, “I’m ready Daddy.  I’m ready.”
> 
> ...


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## kilroy214 (Apr 8, 2017)

Pouch Cream for Pouch Ouch
by Anonymous


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## Makili (Apr 14, 2017)

The delivery (644 words, mild language)

A truck reversed into the warehouse coming to a halt next to the row of cages. The driver came out  and was greeted with a man dressed in overalls and leather gloves. Together they started unloading the crates. The crates emitted screeching sounds, but none of the men paid any attention. 

The warehouse guy took a crowbar and removed the lid from one of the crates. A stink of urine and feces hit him in the face. A pair of shiny black eyes stared back at him, shivering in the shadows of their prison. The guy took out the quivering ball of fur by the neck and gave it an examining look. 

"Prime specimens? There is nothing but skin and bones and fleas. These are not fit for reproduction."

The driver gave a shrug: "Then you have to redefine the meaning of prime. These days prime is anything you can get your hands on. It's that or nothing."

 The warehouse man shoved the animal into one of the empty cages that were lining the walls of the warehouse, most of them already occupied. 
"You gonna help, or what?" he threw over the shoulder, and together they started moving animals from their wooden prisons to the new, wire ones. 
When the last animal was in, they stood and observed the line of cages filled with lethargic little mammals. Men gave them the fatigued look filled with resignation. 

The driver broke the silence: "When I was a kid, they used to be everywhere. Once we came home after the holidays. Turns out they made a den in our backyard. Imagine being a 6 year old and watching them humping each other in your favourite playing spot. My mum refused to let us enter there for a whole month until dad made sure they were gone."

"We always had some scuttling around the garbage bins. "

The men went silent again, and only the squeals pierced the space between them. The warehouse guy continued:  
"You know this used to be an animal shelter. People used to bring these fellas, mostly as victims of road accidents. Back then I was volunteering here, putting their limbs into little plaster casts, nursing them till they were ready to resume humping in people's backyards."

"So what happened?"

"Well the whole environmental kerfuffle happened. You know - the Environment Agency, the national parks... All that gone. And when the Animal Welfare  Act got scraped, pharma started knocking on our doors, wanting to take over. We refused for a while, but it was obvious our resistance was futile. We couldn't maintain the place, the animals started dying, it was bloody heartbreaking."

"More than this?"

"Oh, you bet... At least these are alive, well fed, offered a chance of reproduction. One day a guy came with the promise to support the whole facility and let us continue our work, if we allow them to collect and experiment on possums only. We thought - well, fuck it, they are pests anyway, so why not make a little sacrifice for the benefit of the all. It worked fine the a while. And then the ads came out."

" Yeah, I remember that. The celebs went crazy. My wife went crazy. She dished half a grant. For a bloody face cream! I went mad. But, bloody hell, by the time I cooled down, her face was as smooth as a baby's. So what's in it?"

 "Some enzymes from the pouch of lactating females. Pharma guys managed to extract them and turn them into this "miracle cream". It was like the whole world was waiting exactly for that. And possums started pouring in."

"Yeah..." said the driver and spat. "You know what? Screw possums. And rhinos, and elephants, tigers, the whole lot. The world's done anyway. So at least we should face our doom with no wrinkles."

"Yeah..."


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## Ptolemy (Apr 14, 2017)

Entering with: *Hip Lingo*


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## joshybo (Apr 16, 2017)

*




Their Will Be Done (648 words)*

by joshybo​


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## Pluralized (Apr 16, 2017)

*C.R.E.A.M. (Cream Rules Everything Around Me, Cream, Get the Cream, Poucha-Poucha-Cream, Y'all)
*by Plurbles K. Lizard, Esq. III, BMF
650 Words

A few miles past the boneyard, flashing lights came up in the rearview. Travis eased the truck to the side of the road, casual-like. The marker was close, and with it, the familiar pungent smell of Cream. 

“Everything okay?” the hog said, his nose twitching above a ridiculous push-broom ‘stache. “You were in an awful big hurry back there.”

Travis wondered if the hog could smell the Cream too. “Yes,” he said, “I’m trying to get back up to Barstow before the bowling alley closes.”  

Hog didn’t say anything for a few minutes, seemed content to play ruminator behind the shiny sunglasses reflecting a pair of Travises back. The hog chewed something that smelled faintly of black pepper and shit.  “Get on out of the truck.” Hog stood aside as Travis emerged from the driver’s side like a newborn snake from its shell. 

Before the hog could say anything else, Travis snatched the hog’s glasses off revealing the pink reptilian eyes of a Desecrator. Hog screeched and went for his gun, but Travis was too fast. In a Cream-flash of sharp claws and fearsome strength, he bent the barrel back and tore the hog’s throat out. The hog, with pink eyes wide, pupils long black slits of urgent terror, flailed and gasped and spluttered before collapsing in a pile at Travis’s feet. He took the hog’s locator and hoisted his mess of a body into the cruiser and set it ablaze. 

Travis pulled the shovel out of the truck and paused, watching the fiery, shimmering undulations that stretched off into the desert sky. He found the marker, started digging.

The pouch pulsated down in the hole. Travis pushed in with his finger and it gave like living flesh. Liquid gurgled and flowed beneath the pink surface of the pouch, the same color as the hog’s eyes. Cream, incredible purity. He pierced the pouch and filled six canisters, then absconded westward.

***

“Well, I hope you have good news for me,” Alan said, looking up from his newspaper with a scornful grimace. Travis presented a canister and smiled. 

“Ha ha, you little bastard, you!” Alan shouted, grabbing at it like a child. 

Travis withdrew, shook a naughty finger at him. “No sir, not until I’ve had my Scratching,” Travis laughed, bare feet planted in the trailer’s filthy shag.

“Okay, let’s get it over with,” Alan sighed.

Travis took his shirt off and faced-down into the carpet. Claws on his back softly tingled, then dug in a bit, stinging as they drew blood. He breathed slowly, let Alan have no satisfaction in his response. 

Alan climbed off him, panting slightly. “Give it.”

Travis handed over the canister and watched the other fumble with it for a time. “Want me to open that for you?”

Travis felt the blood trickling down his back like a thousand skittering ants. He smiled at Alan before showing him the empty vessel. Alan’s pudgy face turned eight shades of rhubarb as he muttered, “Why do you torment me?” and began to weep. “You know how sick I’ve been.”

From his hip pocket Travis produced a flask, took a long pull, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Here you go,” he told the fat creature. “Take a drink.” He proffered the flask with disdain.

Alan put the vessel to his parched lips, closed his eyes, took a small drink. Before he could swallow, an arrow pierced his neck and he fell over dead, twitching. Travis spun to see who fired the shot but an empty window stared back at him, curtain flapping. Alan’s lifeless pink eyes stared at the ceiling, somehow urgent in their snake-like stare. Travis realized he held a bow, cast it away like an exorcist.

Travis pushed the accelerator on the truck so hard his leg shook. He roared off into the desert, nose to the air in search of the next viable pouch.


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## PiP (Apr 16, 2017)

*Same Language Different Lingo (644 words)*


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