Young Writers Society

To be honest, Mel didn't exactly know what happened. It felt like her brain was a series of silent two-second moving pictures, and she was only able to express herself through quick emotions. But it happened so fast, the word could be shortened to emotes. Totes.

What she didn't do, though, was actually take the rum and splash it on Corrick. What she tried to do was call him a hothead and that extinguishing him would be like pouring champagne over a fire, but then she realized she only really said that to Hilly, not Corrick.

By the time she looked back at the grumpy man, he was growling and smelled like rum. Right on cue, Jerica started yelling before getting whisked away to her interview, and she could almost see another silent two-second moving picture playing in her head of Lordy crying like a baby spider who is man.

She glanced between Lordy and Corrick, shrugging and putting her hands up beside her. "Don't look at me, I didn't do that," she said innocently.

Who will take responsibility of this catastrophe? If only there were a writer of this show who could explain all of this away...

Well, things were certainly getting interesting. Mysterious flying liquor, Mel failing to communicate in any comprehensible way, Jerica roasting the audience questioners, Lordy on the verge of tears...

Carter sat back into his seat. The game had hardly begun, and everyone was falling apart. How fun.

Simon continued to show his static, unsmiling face as he watched the odd exchange between the humans. He made sure to note this data as an anomaly.

It was clear one of them had telekinetic powers related to alcohol, as it had appeared, at least to his image processor, that it had mysteriously flown on its own. Or perhaps the flash had its own sentience and wanted to break free of its original purpose. He wouldn’t know what that felt like.

Simon spun his upper body to look at the returned human Jerica: “You do not happen to be familiar with beverages of high alcoholic content? Have you experienced this phenomena before?”

Hildegarde winced as Jerica's chair spun away and rum went — somehow — flying through the air. She was rapidly starting to conclude that she was the sanest person in this competition, and though that wasn't exactly an unusual position for her, at least her usual companions weren't quite so... eager for violence.

Luckily, her chair whirled her away from the murderous Jerica and into the center of the stage again, stopping in front of the talking animals Timmy and Tommy.

"Your turn, Hildy... Hildy!" they squeaked. "It's audience questions... questions! Soundofmind asks, How long have you been into knitting? What's your favorite thing you've knitted... knitted?"

Hildegarde breathed a sigh of relief. A normal question. "Oh, maybe thirty years or so? Once a few of the little ones got old enough to entertain themselves and I had a spare second to sit down, my hands just wanted to do something. They weren't used to sitting still!

"As for my favorite thing... I made a shawl for my only daughter when she came of age." It was one of the only things she had taken when she ran away a year later. Hildegarde hadn't asked if she still had it when she found her a few months before.

Lost in thought, she almost missed the audience's hush and Timmy and Tommy's next question. "Veeren asks: do u make those sweaters in medium or do i have enter the afterlife first... first."

Somehow, though the question was only read aloud in the creatures' strange voices, Hildegarde could hear the poor spelling and grammar. "Well," she said coolly, "it might take you that long to get on my good side."

"Oooooh," the audience chorused as one. Hildegarde winced — she was still trying to appear harmless, but she did hate it so that the first thing anyone asked her when they found out she knitted was if she would make something for them, with no consideration to the time or yarn it took.

"A rare burn from our most elderly contestant... contestant," the creatures chuckled. "Next question.... Carina asks, How does it feel to be a level 5 noob... noob?"

Hildegarde had no idea what a 'noob' was, but it was certainly derogatory. 'Level 5' could refer to the power of the highest spells she was capable of casting, but she could sense she wasn't even capable of that right now. She gave a tight grin. "Just like old times. Don't worry, I like a challenge."

"A challenge... challenge..." snickered Timmy and Tommy. "I see! Next question is from SpiritedWolfe: What type and color of yarn would you consider yourself... yourself?"

Now that was an interesting question. Hildegarde had never considered it before, but was surprised to find she had a ready answer. "Just a simple wool, soft grey. Dependable, useful, but it's got a few tricks up its sleeve."

"Interesting... interesting," they squeaked. "Two more! Vincian asks: Are you... the Chosen Grandma... Grandma?"

Hildegarde knit her eyebrows together. Another joke question? "If you mean that I am the specific grandmother chosen to participate in this debacle, well, rather me than another poor woman."

The audience burst into laughter at that one, though Hildegarde had no idea what was so funny about her answer. Did they know many grandmothers who were chosen to go on grand quests or something?

"Last... but not least...least..." wheezed Timmy and Tommy, "It's a doozy... ShadowVyper asks: Do you really find it ethical to use your dead husband just to win sympathy points in a game show... show?"

Hildegarde snorted. That hadn't been what she was trying to do, but she was happy to let them think that. She stared straight at the audience. "It's what he would have wanted."

"Okay folks, give it up for Hildy... Hildy!" chorused the creatures, and quick as a wink, Hildy's chair dragged her back to the full-blown chaos among the other contestants.

As the lovely voting theme song music came to a stop, Tommy and Timmy scurried away and the spotlight was focused back on K.K. The white dog smirked and set his guitar on the side, posing for the audience to see him and applaud for the beautiful song.

"The vote's are in, folks!" he announced. Jerica and Hildegarde's chairs sped up to the stage, and the spotlight shone on their faces as Gulliver started to flap above the audience's head. K.K. extended his little paws out as Gulliver dropped the letter from above.

K.K. dramatically opened up the envelop with one claw and then unfolded the paper. He grinned, clearing his voice. The audience went silent.

"This was a tough, tough round," he began with a low voice. As low of a voice as possible for him, anyways. "It was almost a tie. Wouldn't that be something? A tie. However, one candidate pulled through in particular, and there's a whole forum on the internet that is debating the conspiracy that this candidate won by bribery. But this is the Roleplay Realm Game Show! Anything goes!"

He hooted and the crowd cheered again. K.K. lifted his paws, and the audience cooled down.

"Now, without further ado... The loser of this round is..."

A needlessly long drum roll started playing for extra anticipation between the pause.

"Hildegarde Hopesinger!"



Hildegarde's chair swiveled to the front with too many spotlights shining on her face, and K.K. was lifted up on the stage by a platform appearing from the ground.

"Shame on everyone for voting for an old lady!" K.K. began in a fake scolding voice, but then grinned. "Just kidding. Didn't mean to be crabby there, but we're in the spirit of the game. Maybe don't fail at bribery next time, Hildegarde!"

The audience laughed, the the spotlight shifted back to K.K. while Hiledgarde and Jerica's seat zipped back to the back of the stage with the other contestants.

"We're almost to the final round of the pun battle, folks!" K.K. chirped. "Should you feel nervous or excited? Who knows who will win? This whole show is unscripted! It's bananas!"

He then looked right into YOUR face with a dead, serious look in his eyes.

"This post has no affiliation with the Yewis Nana War. The Roleplay Realm Game Show will not take sides, nor will we delve into the politics, even if the contestants' brains are taking part in an epic war that may determine the future of chaos."

He said all of that very quickly, almost too quickly to even understand, like it was one of those medical commercials that talk too fast at the end.

"Anyways, on to round three!" K.K. said with a smile back at the audience.



The bell chimed loudly three times, and Mel and Lordy's chairs zipped to the center of the stage. The spotlight followed them just enough so the audience could see who they were, but then the lights, music, and noise all died at the same time.

"The final round of the Battle of Puns begins now!" K.K. said.



The backdrop lit up with dancing cats and rave music, and there were a series of bright lights across the stage to set the pun mood for Mel and Lordy. A giant timer ominously hung above them and started to tick down from five minutes.

Before Lordy could continue contemplating the loss of his liquid confidence, he was zipped to the front of the stage along with the annoying girl that kept bothering him. It was their turn get punny, and the thought almost comforted him. He looked at the theme of their round ad saw... cats?

I wonder if Madam Tabitha had anything to do with this.

Lordy stood up from his chair and raised his arms to address the audience, "I have to say, I'm not feline to good about this round, you know. I'm not too confident right meow. I might just knead some help from someone so I can get through this."

Lordy was trying so hard to hold back his giggles.

He turned to Mel, "I've been hearing whiskers that you've been dying for some rum lately. Un-fur-tunately, I don't want you to end up succumbing to alcoholism like me. We alcoholics have, as they say in German," Lordy wondered how he knew what that was, "Nein lives"

"A strong start, Lordy!" Carter cheered. "Keep it up!"

Mel barely had time to comprehend what in the world happened in the backstage with the whole rum fiasco, because suddenly, her chair was zipped to the front.

Oh! It was her turn now! Against Lordy!

She beamed at K.K. and then at Lordy when the music started to play and images of cats started to dance in the background. It was rather adorable, and she was totally digging the music and the lights. After Lordy went through his puns, she got up out of her chair, skipping around him.

"Meow, meow, Lordy. No need to get your claws out over this subject! You're supposed to be addicted to milk, not rum!"

She giggled and then booped his nose.

"Itty witty little kitty, you are," she cooed when she did that, then giggled again and pulled away, hands behind her back as she started to saunter around the stage.

"I think maybe he just needs some pets? Maybe we should put a collar on him?"

She turned to the audience with a bright smile. "Oh! You know what would be a great cat name for Lordy? Bored-y. Because his puns are fuuuuurr-middble!"

The audience seemed to cheer and she twirled and posed in front of a camera.

After hearing the first round of puns by Mel, Lordy's suspicions were confirmed. She was extremely annoying.

"Oh my dear girl, you better shut your meowth before I make them put this whole show on paws. I'm normally calm but you may incur the wrath of lucifur if you don't tread lightly."

He began twirling his cane and skipping around the stage slowly.

"But your jokes are hissterical, though. Unfortunately 'Bored-y' might have a bit of a cat-itude if you're a sourpuss. You can be very purr-suasive the way you're flinging those puns around. Let me tell you a little tail."

Lordy began walking around Mel.

"Once upon a time there was an obnoxious little kitty that kept making clawful jokes. So Bored-y decided to knick-knack kitty-whack her entire family, and she never, efur, did it again."

Mel watched Lordy with a playful glint in her eye. She knew this was going to be fun, and she sat back down on her chair with her legs crossed, hands cupped under her chin with :tuck: expression.


"Awwww!" she cooed, eyes big with cuteness overload. "You are so adorable when you talk in cat puns. Oh, wait, um... cat-dorable!"

With a big smile plastered on her face, she bounced out of her chair and walked up to Lordy again, hands behind her back and her face leaning awfully close to his. He was much taller than her, so she was peering up at him on her tippie-toes.

"Has anyone ever told you how purr-ty you are?" she asked, peeling back with one hand on her mouth as she giggled. "Like a litter-al king walking the earth. What's a girl gotta do to chase a cool cat like you? I hope you don't flea! But if you do, it'd be like a fun game of cat and mouse."

She was walking around the stage, casually talking out loud, but then whirled around to face him again with a playful grin.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Bored-y poo poo friend. I really, really want you to win," she said in a voice thick with mockery. "After all, I wasn't kitten around."

It was as if Mel had given up trying to make puns and was just messing with Lordy, trying to get his guard down.

"Aww," he reached out to pat her head, "Does little kitty need some cat-nip? I'll be sure to find you the purrfect treat for being so sweet."

Lordy turned back to the crowd and began waving his cane back and forth, "I feel like I'm threading a kneadle right now, these puns are just getting harder and harder. Not to mention I lost my flask so now I'll have to go to the flea market when I'm back home to get me a new one. Who knows, I might even pick up a furrari to drive around the town with as a treat." Lordy had no idea what that was.

"You my dear," he turned back to Mel, "Have been a furmidable opponent, but I don't suppose you could give me some more competition? I love the thrill of a hard fought victory, and I'd be glad to offur you some rum when this is all over. I promise I'm not lion this time."

Was that a stretch?
Maybe.

Jerica still felt a bit dazed, but turned as Simon addressed her. “You do not happen to be familiar with beverages of high alcoholic content? Have you experienced this phenomena before?”

She blinked at him. His words buzzed around her brain like flies and she felt vaguely unsettled by him. But, then, it was beginning to seem like she was the only normal one in this entire realm -- and Simon, at least, seemed to be trying to be friendly.

"Beverages of --" She shook her head, biting back the urge to repeat him. "You mean rum? Yeah. Rum is... the elixir of the gods. The only..." She looked sadly at the last of the rum drying on the stage. "Only thing that is going to get us through this."

They announced Hildy the loser -- which must mean that Jerica was the winner -- but she was still too distraught about the rum to focus on anything else. There was a fresh pun battle going on now and she supposed she could cheer for Lordy like Carter was, since it seemed like the three of them were in this together whether they wanted to be or not. But. The rum.

Jerica stood up from her chair cautiously, glancing around as she did so. She didn't feel the force on her. Yet. She turned away from her chair and slowly backed away from it, half-expecting it to grab her yet again. But it didn't. And the force hadn't grabbed her, either.

Maybe if I stay on the stage instead of trying to get off it... Jerica silently padded across the stage, straight towards the audience.


She bent down as she got to the edge and whispered loudly. "Hey! Girl!"

A girl in the front row looked up. She looked like she was probably twelve or thirteen -- easily old enough to be one of the serving girls.

"Do you have any rum?"

She frowned.

She waved it away. "Can you get me some rum?"

"I--I don't --"

"You want this cool dagger?" She pulled it out of her belt, still in its sheath. "It's yours if you can get me some."

"COOL!" The girl jumped to her feet and started towards her.

A middle-aged woman jumped up and yanked her backward, scowling at Jerica. "Keep your weapons away from my daughter!"

"You want it?" Jerica asked, still whispering, as she held it towards her handle-first. "You can have it. I don't care who gets it. Just get me some ru--uuuuuuum!"

Her word was cut off as the invisible force suddenly slammed into her chest and carried her off her feet. She tried to grab onto it, but realized there was nothing to grasp. She didn't even know what the force was. She just felt very much like a cat being held by a small child.

She was slammed back into her chair clumsily. She let her body topple over, laying across the seat instead of sitting in it. She tipped her head backward to look at now-upside-down Simon. "Think you can convince them?"

Corrick leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Where was my interview, huh?"

Corrick sulked even further into his seat when he heard the battle going on. Why didn't the dog give him the cat puns? He at least liked cats.

He noticed in the corner of his eye a floating cat in the audience with far too large of a smile.

This place was getting weirder and weirder.

Mel spun around watching Lordy walk around her, never dropping her amused smile. This was the most fun she had in ages. And by ages, she meant a few days. There was always someone new and fun she could tease.

"Knead? Flea? Fur? Purr? Aww, c'mon itty witty poo poo kitty, you can do better than that!" she said to him with a baby-talk voice, putting on an exaggerated pout. "You're reusing the same puns as before, and even some of the same cat-tastic puns I already used!"

She then dropped her pout and smirked, a glint in her eye. "But it's okay. I'll... bite."

Mel giggled and then skipped around to circle him this time.

"Let's just cat to the chase, alright? I cat you using the same puns, and it was a total cat-tastrophe. Now I cat to think of puns that are more original so I won't reuse them. Maybe it'll come to me if I do a little cat-walk."

She stopped to look at him with the biggest playful smirk. "Oh, sorry. I'll stop meow. 'Cause, you know, curiosity killed the cat."

She nodded and kept pacing around, pleased. "Speaking of killing cats, let's not ignore that Bored-y threatened to knick-knack kitty-whack my entire family. But jokes on him!"

She then faced the audience with a grin. "I have no family, so his catty threat didn't work. Thanks for trying, though, love bug!" she said, winking over at Lordy.

Mel let out a loud 'mwah' sound and blew him a kiss. And, deciding to be extra dramatic, decided to concentrate on the lights around her so that the illusion of a few cartoon hearts left her lips and floated over to his head.

"Oh dear, you're absolutely right." Lordy fake pouted and put his hand over his heart, "How very clawful of me. I shouldn't have said such horrible things they were spurr of the moment, honest."

He slid over and stood next to Mel, tilting his head to look down at her, "But then again, you haven't been very mice to me. You keep trying to box me in and make me look like the bad guy, it's making me clawstraphobic."

He leaned over and rested his elbow on her head, "I mean you've got tabby kitten me, saying I'm threatening you? Maybe you should call claw-enforcement on me." He looked into to audience, "Hey! Can someone call the pawlice? Pretty paw-lease?"

He left Mel's side and walked toward the front of the stage in a dramatic fashion and put the back of his hand in his forehead, "Oh my, I'm gonna need a meowtini after this. Maybe even a CAT Scan to see if somethings wrong with my head." Lordy still had no idea what that was.

"If santa-claws is watching this, I want you to know I've been very good this year. If I could ask for one thing from your whole catalogue, it's to find me the will to look at my dear friend, uh," He turned to Mel, "Merl, and not want to kill her."