[DUEL] ybbon66 vs. Shankbot12 - WINNER

**Shankbot de Bodemloze** · September 08, 2012, 04:13 AM

Image courtesy of Radboud

In the duel between

ybbon66

and

Shankbot12

After a lot of trash talking, and a lot bash walking the winner has been announced

...drum-roll...

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Many congratulations to the victor! Who has today proved that you can teach and old dog new tricks.
May he be showered in glory and rep, for his opponent has more than him....

The winning tale

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Caged

The sunlight dapples the floor and from half way up the wall, if you closed your eyes just so, it could almost be soft and inviting. The guards slammed the man to the floor shattering any such illusion he may have had. There had been many inmates to practice on so the throw was co-ordinated perfectly, a guard either side held each arm out and tripped the man, the third guard giving a shove in just the right place and he hit the concrete floor face first with his arms behind him. There was a squelching crunch as his nose broke and a few teeth broke under the impact. The guards laughed harshly and gave him a few well-placed kicks to help him through the door, their guttural laughter interspersed with bets on how many teeth he had lost and how long he would last.

Groaning, the man pulled his arms underneath his body and slowly pushed himself up. His left arm gave way and he fell onto his side eliciting another groan and shudder that racked his whole body. Slowly he shuffled backwards until he felt a stone wall behind him and bending forward he retched up some blood and mucus with fragments of teeth and slowly sat up again. One eye remained closed, massively bruised and shut with crusted blood but the other took a bleary, bloodshot look around. A concrete floor, stone walls, with each block laid directly on top of the one below so there was no mortar to dig out even if that were possible. Faint scratches indicated that some desperate men had tried nonetheless to dig their way out. A wooden bucket was in one corner though it looked none too clean and it gave off a stench that infested the whole cell. On the opposite wall from where he now sat and close enough if he stood at his full five foot eight he could fall onto, was a stone shelf with a thin mattress on covered with a filthy grey rag that he supposed could be thought of as a blanket.

The only redeeming feature was the sunlight filtering through the bars, it had no warmth this late in the year but it was a hope of sorts. The bars were at least ten feet up, a small grate rather than a window so there would be no chance of reaching and looking out even if he had the strength to stand but for a few minutes at least every day, there would be a reminder of better things that had once been part of his life. A large rat scampered across the end of the cell, emerging in a frenzied dash and disappearing down a hole by his bed shelf.

“They run that fast because if they don't, the prisoner will eventually catch them and eat them”. The voice suddenly appeared in the room. The man took another look around but could not see anyone else in the cell with him. “I am a prisoner too, but not as you, I am not constrained by these walls or bars, it’s the energy beams within the stones that bind me”. Now he focused harder on the grey rag and he realised it was moving. “Who, or maybe I should say, what are you?” he croakily asked. “Well the what, that is hard for me to describe in words you would understand, I wear your blanket so you can see where I am, let us just say that I am not of your World, you can call me Mote, however”.

The man slowly nodded, as if settling things in his own mind, “and your crime, friend Mote? Are you like me, here because you spoke out against your King? You can call me Calvin for that was my name”. The blanket shuddered and gave a wheezy, hoarse chuckle, “In a way, friend Calvin, yes in a way I spoke out against my King.” Wearily the man nodded, “but I am impressed with you, the last man they threw in here tried to kill me, attacking my blanket and then refusing to acknowledge my existence, you seem to be comfortable with my presence, why is that?” Now it was the man's turn to try and laugh, though it ended with another retching cough and a few more spat out tooth fragments.

“A good question Mote, it is easier for me to accept you than fight in my mind with what your existence would say about my own knowledge and World, so I accept what you say as truth. How many men have you seen here? Have any escaped?” Mote thought about this and replied “Calvin, your years are but short to me and I may have missed some who came and went. As to who has escaped, that is easy, none of them. Oh some may have been alive when they were dragged out, but all of them were going to the executioner or torturer. Some died of madness, some the guards just beat to death for a bet or fun, but none who end up in this cell will escape back to your own World”.

Five years passed in the man's World with many a conversation to pass the long minutes, and he spoke to Mote again, “Mote my old friend, you said once that none escape to our World, in that I detect a hidden meaning?” Excitedly Mote replied, “Yes Calvin, there is a way, I knew if I waited long enough someone would see it! There is a way for us both to escape. We must do this together, but I can escape in you if you will let me, and my escape will bring you to my World as a memory, you would not have corporeal form, but your memories, personality, character, your soul if you want, would be intact and alive.” The man thought about this for another year, merely a blink to Mote, “And how will you leave with me Mote?”

“Why that is so simple, just think on my name, I am Mote, if you consume me, you will die from the poison I would be to your form, but I would be in you, so when they take your body from here, I leave too”. Calvin laughed as well, though quietly as the years had taught him that laughter had violent consequences from the guards , “Of course, how obvious, you will be the Mote in my Eye!”

The runner-up

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Caged

There once was a man named Paul,
And he fished an almighty haul,
His lobsters were washed and caged,
Whilst his crabs were dried and aged.

He lived in a town by the coast,
A place not haunted by a ghost,
The prison made of cages and bars,
The streets filled with all manner of cars.

Life was pretty normal and boring,
It was the same every Monday morning,
The roads were quiet and peaceful,
The people passive yet resentful.

For a caged deadly beast was let loose,
By the gods, he likes chocolate mousse,
Throw him a big fat cow or sheep,
Oh no – wait until he is asleep,

No cage was big enough to now hold him,
But he wasn’t the smartest, quite dim,
His bowels excreted a lot of waste,
It smelled like Arctic seal baste.

But Paul was determined to catch it,
With all the cunning of a blunt hatchet,
He built a cage of reinforced steel,
Hoping he wouldn’t be the beasts next meal.

So he walked up to the giant lair,
Saying farewell to his only heir,
And saw the beast taking a quick nap,
So Paul tucked into his bacon and cheese Bap.

However that costly delay cost Paul,
His Grand-fathers green and red cagoule,
It burnt of him like petrol to a flame,
He sincerely hoped it didn’t start to rain.

Bringing the cage up from below and beneath
Paul launched it at the beasts’ razor-sharp teeth,
Who suddenly awoke from a fitful slumber,
And made Paul lose his third number.

But the hero got up from his agony and soreness,
Without the slightest grumble, moan or boy fuss,
He grimaced and drew his blue-green blade,
Hoping to end this rather unfortunate glade.

However the beast was not ready to be beaten,
My god he wanted Paul crisp and eaten,
So in a furious blaze of fire and smoke,
He burnt Paul’s father’s golden winter cloak.

So Paul recoiled in shame and watched in horror,
As the beast consumed the cage without any bother,
With nothing less to lose but his courage and pride,
He charged forthwith in an animal-like ride.

But alas it proved to be for naught and nought,
And the beast won this first deadly bout,
In a tryst of celebrations, joy and glee,
He did not see that yellow and black stinting bee.

Which proceeded to sting his backside multiple times,
He wasn’t seen for an age and nine lines,
As the story progressed to Pauls funeral and last will,
His son was tasked with delivering the beats kill,

This proved an almost impossible task as we soon discover,
But first it is time for How I Met Your Mother,
With the credits of the show slowly dawning,
Paul’s son, Simon, ended up with a night of mourning.

And then many months and years passed,
Until it was time for Simon to become fast,
In preparation to try and defeat the beast,
In the meantime he at some bread and yeast.

So he stared out into the blue infinite sea,
Hoping to find his father and have a wee,
For the toilets were all out of order or in-use,
He was shouted out and received some abuse.

But with the turn of one more summer season,
The steel cage was primed and ready to reason,
With the beast that burnt its cousin and creator,
Now armed with a pair of teeth from an alligator.

Up Simon went with his red and white knapsack,
A little strain on his mighty muscled back,
However the cage proved an added weight,
That he had not foreseen nor did he have any bait.

Eventually he made it too the infamous lair,
But not that of a big brown fuzzy bear,
This was inhabited by a creature spat back by hell,
Surrounded by a cast iron, spiky shell.

So Simon crawled up towards the villain,
And he heard his father telling him to kill ‘em,
Withdrawing the newly forged cage of steel,
He propelled it towards the monster, not the nearby eel.

The beast still did a rumbling to awake,
And fired a blast of fumes hot enough to bake,
But Simon had on his heat-resistant clothing,
Which he made in the days of homeless aboding.

Therefore he could withstand the beasts might flames,
So he had survived, and could stand to live again,
Simon ran to pick-up the cage and just in time too,
For the beast had let out one of his smelly poos.

Holding his nose Simon avoided the almighty stench,
But went crashing into a bone-made bench,
Recovering quickly from the untimely setback,
He went forward, onto the deadly attack.

And the beast, now slightly bemused, flew into the air,
Firing a jet of heat without the slightest care,
Forgetting about Simon’s protective cloak,
He tried to frizzle such a great top bloke.

Thankfully Simon wasn’t fazed by the outburst,
In fact he didn’t even mutter a single curse,
Instead he launched the cage once more,
Straight into the beat’s chest, for sure.

And he watched as the terrible beast was caught,
It was okay afterwards since Simon wasn’t too short,
So he just leaned over and clicked in place the lock,
All happy that he had received his father’s clock

This brings us to the end of our hero’s tale,
Simon still has one of the beat’s nails.
I hope you have enjoyed my little poem,
I’ll need all my energy for the showin’... off.

**Shankbot de Bodemloze** · September 08, 2012, 04:16 AM

Congratulations mate, it was so close. I guess I shouldn't have voted for you.

Well done, +rep.

**Ybbon** · September 08, 2012, 05:12 AM

Well it was an excellent challenge, fine trash talking and good tales. I thought yours very inventive and imaginative, it sort of has the feel of a Lewis Carroll without the nonsense words. +rep when I can again. Now on to glory in the summer competition! I'm gunning for ToTW/CW to win in all categories bwuhahaha