# March 2017 - LM - Choose a Song



## kilroy214 (Mar 2, 2017)

*LITERARY MANEUVERS*​*Choose a Song*​



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.


 You choose any song you  wish, and write a story based off of whatever inspires you based on it.  So basically - anything in the world you want to write, I'm sure you'll  find a song about it. In any case, leave a link to your chosen tune, at the very least, above the title. The song title DOES NOT  have to be part of the story. Just let us know which song it's based on.


*The judges for this round are:*

...umm...anyone want to be a judge? Drop me a line.


*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.
*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.*
*No liking entries until the scores go up.*
*The word limit is 650 words not including the title.*  If you go over - Your story will not be counted. Microsoft Word and  Google Drive are the standard for checking this. If you feel it’s  incorrect, send it to the host of the competition and we’ll check it for  you and add our approval upon acceptance.






*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 *LM Workshop Thread* 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.

*This competition will close on:*
 Thursday, March 16th, at 11;59 GMT
Click here for the current time.

*Good luck, everyone.*​


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## kilroy214 (Mar 6, 2017)

Desperado
by Anonymous


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## aj47 (Mar 7, 2017)

https://youtu.be/xqmApJCgqnU

*Melanie *(650 words)

“Incoming message” said the female voice. Melanie was expecting a text from Carla about lunch; instead the preview said “Unknown” with a strange number.

She tapped it.

_I may be dead, but I still love you._

Melanie felt a wave of nausea. _He is dead._ _It is supposed to be over. _She tapped *Contacts* and found Detective Schwartz.

February 29, 2016 was the last call from that number._ Leap Day. How ironic_. She hadn't made the connection.

Maybe she should call Lois. She'd had her last session months ago but Lois said she was always welcome to schedule another one.

She tapped *Favorites*, then *Lois*.

“Thank you for calling Heart, Hope, and Harmony. For Lois, press 1. For Byron--” Melanie tapped 1 and waited for the voice-mail prompt.

“This is Lois,” said a soft contralto.

“Lois!” Melanie's words tumbled out, “I … I was expecting your voice-mail. It's Melanie Davis. I need to see you.”

“What's up?” Lois asked.

“I got a weird text today,” Melanie told her. “It looks like it's from Alfred.”

“Melanie,” Lois' voice was a measured calm, “Alfred is dead.”

“I _know_ that. The _texter_ even knows that,” Melanie's voice began to rise.

“What does the text say?” Lois asked.

“It says, 'I may be dead, but I still love you.'”

“I have a four o'clock this afternoon—can you take off work?” Lois asked.

“If I show this to my boss I can,” Melanie said. “I'll be there. Thank you _so_ much!”

“You're welcome. See you at four.” The phone beeped.
Lois' office had the traditional couch, but Melanie preferred to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs. After taking her seat, Melanie quickly brought Lois up to speed on the day's happenings—the call to Detective Schwartz, his request for permission to access her phone records, etc.

“So tell me,” Lois said, “who do you think sent the text?”

“Someone who is trying to play a sick joke on me,” Melanie couldn't come up with a name. “Someone who knows about Alfred.”

“Do you know anyone who might do something like that?” Lois was not holding her tablet. _A good sign._

“Honestly, no,” Melanie chewed her lip. “Maybe Steven? I broke up with him over Alfred.”

The therapist nodded, “I remember that. Steven didn't understand why you weren't flattered to be 'an object of desire'.”

“Yeah,” Melanie said, “but he apologized when Alfred gave Muggins the Mohawk. Steven is a cat person and he understood the Violation of the Sacred Cat or something. I don't—”

“Incoming message,” said a muffled female voice from Melanie's purse.

“Oh,” Melanie retrieved her phone. “That may be Detective Schwartz. I told him I might be here or driving and to text, not call. Pardon me.”

Melanie looked at the preview. _Yes! 
_
_Call me._

“It says to call him, ” Melanie tapped the *Callback* button.

“Detective Schwartz here.” came a strong tenor from the phone.

“Melanie Davis. I'm with my therapist, Lois Nixon. Can I put you on speaker?” She didn't wait but tapped the icon.

“Go ahead, Ms. Davis,” came the voice from phone.

“Detective,” Melanie said, “Did you find out who sent it?”

“Your stalker, Alfred Matthew sent that text,” the detective said. “He set up a computer to automatically send it every year on this day. Do you know why he chose today?”

Melanie didn't, and said so.

“My department is working on it,” he said. “We need a court order to disable it—that should be no problem—but there may be others that we are unaware of. I highly recommend you change your number.”

“Thank you _so _much,” Melanie said. “You don't _know_ how relieved I am.”

“I will keep you in the loop,” he said. “Have a good one.” The phone beeped.

“I need to go to the Verizon store _right _now,” Melanie said.

“Call with your new number,” Lois reminded her.


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## godofwine (Mar 9, 2017)

I Drive Your Truck by Godofwine (649 Words)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCSMCgqlc-0


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## Candervalle (Mar 11, 2017)

The Confession of Sam Hall


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## JaneC (Mar 13, 2017)

Dear Kate
By JaneC

My Name is Human (Highly Suspect)


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## Ibb (Mar 15, 2017)

*Lose Yourself / 650 Words / Language Warning, Content Warning, Hot Dope Beats Warning*

Things were going merrily enough. Then, just as he planted his left foot in order to provide balance for his rightside to follow, the world came hurtling up from underneath him, slamming into his groin and sending a shockwave of fury down the thigh of his right.
[FONT=&quot]	
[/FONT]“OH MY FUCK,” he screamed. Naturally, this caused the rest of the mall-goers to look at him.
[FONT=&quot]
	[/FONT]“Yo,” asked a concerned youth. “Where’s your leg?” 
[FONT=&quot]
	[/FONT]The question was ludicrous. Where the flying fuck else would his leg be? He looked down at himself to discover his entire left leg disappeared. “OH MY FUCK!” he cried again, but this time the mothers were ready for him. Roughly 200 some pairs of hands cupped the earholes of innocent children while 200 mouths or more dropped open in expressions of shock and awe. 
[FONT=&quot]
	[/FONT]The man was not keen on the attention and did not make it his habit to be so vulgar. But how else are you expected to act when losing yourself? He looked around the various shops to see if his misplaced leg had ended up in one of the display windows. The concerned youth who had asked him about his missing appendage was crouched beside him. 
[FONT=&quot]
	[/FONT]“Yo,” he said. “Do you need help?”
[FONT=&quot]
	[/FONT]“No, it’s all right.” The man was one of those unfortunate sorts who mistook self-sufficiency to mean denial of assistance in all circumstances, and therefore had developed a personality reluctant to the influence of others. Really, it’s only ever a matter of time before someone of this ilk starts to lose himself―not just in [/FONT]_the_[FONT=&quot] moment, but all moments. “I can get it.”
[FONT=&quot]
He started to push himself up off the floor when it happened again―his balance faltering, the world ascending, the tile smashing now into his nose versus his groin. A rush of blood staunched the cries of, “OH MY UNNNGHH, UUUN, UUUUHHH-HUH-HUh… Huh.” [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Oh, shit!” cried the concerned youth. “Where’s your arm?”   [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Hum buh buh uh… Buh… UUUUHH Uh HUH UUUAAAHHHhhhh…”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
The concerned youth, for his own part, had a strong idealistic streak that didn’t always match up well with the realities of Doing Good, and to avoid the increasingly limbless man’s sudden convulsions he got up and looked around. “Yo,” he said, “I’ll go check out the Lost & Founds.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Have you seen this dude’s leg?” he asked the cashier at the candy job. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
She looked over his shoulder. “Which dude?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“The one without a leg, yo, what the hell.” [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“No,” she said. “Try next door.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Have you seen this dude’s leg?” he asked the Apple employees. Each of them retreated to a separate model of the newest iThing and checked its contents through a series of blindingly fast finger pokes and thumb swipes; then shook their heads in a communal negative. “How else may we 
assist you?” they said in unison, effectively wigging out the concerned youth and sending him to the next store. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Hey,” he asked the employees in the Whole Foods. “Did somebody lose an arm in here?” [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
Luck eventually favored him. Someone had pulled the arm out of their bag of popcorn, while someone else had been surprised by a kick to the face immediately upon opening their copy of the new Zelda.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Here you go, sweetie,” the old lady at customer service told him. “Get these back to him fast,” she warned. “People are always on the lookout for a new pair of legs.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Whoa,” the youth said. “That’s deep.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Not as deep as my―” But he ran away screaming before she could say the rest.   [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
With only 33 words remaining, the concerned youth wasted no time in stitching the limbs back onto his limbless friend. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Thank you.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“You’re welcome.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“What did we learn today?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“That Ibb can’t write a compact story to save his life.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Did he at least fit in the kung-fu popcorn scene?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Not enough words.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Shit!”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Maybe next LM.”[/FONT]


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## rcallaci (Mar 16, 2017)

*In the Land of Orange*

In the Land of Orange (650 words)

Shttps://youtu.be/Sk3sURDS4IAong---‘Monster‘ by Steppenwolf 

Colonel Jeremiah Pickleprick, chief interrogator, torturer, and executioner, opened the door to the torture chamber, entered, and said to his subordinates, “Don’t kill him! Not just yet...let him suffer excruciating pain for his affront to our Grand Magnificence, Lonfeld P. Dumplefrump the 1st.

I suggest that we disembowel him, very slowly, with the utmost precision. Put him on the rack, it will be easier to gut him while his muscles are stretched to its limits.” Pickleprick rubbed his hands in gleeful anticipation and with a wide grin said, “Hopefully we’ll break a few bones in the process as well. This is going to be loads of fun slicing and dicing this traitorous malcontent, so I’ll be handling this one myself. Get me my tools and hand me that butcher knife. Put on your goggles and smocks, this is going to get a little messy.”

Durack Furama’s screams of agony echoed through every corner the building. It sent chills and waves of despair throughout the remaining malcontents awaiting interrogation. 

.........​
Deep in bayou country in the heart of the marshlands where alligators’ gnawed on zombie bones and craw-daddies feasted on their flesh, a meeting of utmost importance was taking place down by the shack owned by Jumping Jack Jimmy Jam Jones. It was Jimmy jam who called for the meeting. He was quite pissed off; his precious Louisiana, now a ruined wasteland, was overrun by crazed politicized female zombies. He and some of his demonic allies contained the contagion but at a great cost. The marshlands were polluted with decayed flesh and the mudbugs were now lousy eating. Things needed to be set straight, the Monster Orange needed to be squeezed dry. 

Jimmy Jam’s hounds howled and barked till everyone quieted down.  Jimmy stood up on a broken crate and said, “Let’s get this meeting to order. I’m gratified to see most of hell’s elite at this meeting. Hell and Earth are at a dire crossroad. The Monster Orange wants to claim both for his own. Our Fiddling Fiddler the Lady Santana, the Devil Incarnate, has been kidnapped by this gloating buffoon.  Mephistopheles unwittingly led Satanna into the Devil’s trap by being beguiled by the Monster’s charms. Now they’re both imprisoned in the Fire Circle and forced to do his bidding. We need to free them both and put an end to his despicable life before he rules this world and moves on to hell and ends ours. Now there is evil and there is Evil. Our brand of evil is to balance out the good. His brand of Evil is vile and toxic. It destroys to destroy, not to renew and regenerate. It’s time to make the Land of Orange turn red with his blood”

All the demons and those humans aligned with Hell, raised their fists in salute and headed off to the Monster’s Lair in Florida. 

.............​
Yeshiva Shannon patted his faithful monster puppet, Lonfeld Dumplefrump on his orangey head. This sent Lonfeld into orgasmic ecstasy. Yeshiva smiled and said,” You’ve done well. The world has collapsed; your release of the zombie contagion has devastated the world eco-systems and governments. With your timely antidote to un-zomify the zombies and promises to rebuild, it has accepted you as their Savior. It’s now time to take my leave. ”

Lonfeld pissed himself. He said” Why are you leaving me! I’m nothing without you.”  

“So true, so true” said Yeshiva. “You’ve incurred Hell’s wrath, they’re on their way to rip your heart out.  The Devil and I had a falling out eons ago. I’ve been lonely without her since. I needed to show how much I missed her by letting a monster on the loose and causing an unscheduled apocalypse. She’s giving me another chance.  Don’t look so glum; as you burn in hell you can take comfort that for a little while at least, you had God on your side...”


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## kilroy214 (Mar 16, 2017)

Angel of the Morning
 by Anonymous


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