Fractally Divergent Fiction From The Northern Tier

Here at the Flatulent - sorry! - Fictional Dog headquarters in - if what appears to be going on outside is any indication - I'm guessing Siberia, we're positively giddy to announce the launch of the ...

 2014 F. D. Short Fiction Contest

We've already had at least a couple of people express vaguely ambivalent interest.  One person (presumably), who claims to have chemically self-induced a comatose state in order to avoid having to deal with the "exhaustive and ultimately dehumanizing" frivolities of the holiday season, is eager to write about the experience. Although, as by presumed person's own admission, there is ... "like zero recollection" of said experience, we are somewhat dubious that the minimum 25 word requirement can be met.

Which is a pity because, if you're anything like me, you're dying to know just how dumb and/or twisted a presumed person has to be to choose a coma over spending a few hours with the family.
 Then again ...

A woman living in an area of the U.S. currently in the grim grasp of appallingly frigid weather conditions has submitted a story entitled (possibly) "The Morning My Eyeballs Froze" Unfortunately the sheer volume of blurry typos in this otherwise gripping saga renders it inappropriate for publication, even for a blog which promotes itself as alternative, radically predisposed and mostly immune to mockery.

The first sentence of the story should suffice to make the required point:  

"Duh withermam sayed oon Teebee dat tit wus 90 bellows ouchsighed, bud thuse porple allweeze exaggurrut, I onery waantud to git thr stupoid noisepooper, fur Gawd's saakee."

(Clearly, attempting to type with frozen eyeballs is not without its challenges. But a definite A for effort.

  Furthermore, we are willing to speculate that the most likely object of her quest was a newspaper, although it cannot be entirely discounted that a noisepooper is an actual thing that someone might consider risking an icy death to acquire.)

*Note:  While there are no implacable restrictions on content, it should be kept in mind that, all indications to the contrary, A Fictional Dog is a family oriented blog. Accordingly, entrants should proceed with sensitivity, bearing in mind the time-honored advisory,  sleek artistry over gross banality.

Erotic entries are, of course, welcome, sex being the topic that most of us keep reading stuff all the time in the hope of happening upon. But again, a certain amount of self-imposed discretion goes a long way.

For example:  Last year's entry,  Coitus With A Reality TV Co-Star, was a scintillating, irony-soaked romp, both a sexy, social critique and a good old fashioned screw-fest.

On the other hand, All You Bitches Is Crazy Whores, was little more than a muddled, misogynist rant, neither relevant nor sexy, about as stimulating as a speech by Michelle Bachman.

So Get Busy Writing!

All entries should be between 25 and 78 words.

Winners to be announced on the Spring Equinox.

Once again, the first place winner will find him or herself on a flight (economy class) to Pyongyang, where he or she will have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of playing a game of one-on-one basketball with none other than Kim Jung Un.

The pudgy Kim is apparently incapable of jumping, but reportedly has a killer underhand foul shot.

*A word of caution:  Last year's contest winner won the basketball game at the buzzer with a highly improbable 30 foot bank shot. He has neither been seen nor heard from since.