Here are the 6 finalists, in one convenient place to make your voting pleasure even more
pleasurable:
Angelus Of Death, August 1 2006 6:39 PM EDT
She was an attractive bottle blonde, doomed to a life of posing with poorly worded bait in a
Russian Mafia spam scheme, her only hope dashed on the rocks again when the latest round of
Brendan spam failed to net her either Fraser or Gleeson, men of action capable of springing like a
slinkee at a moment's notice to offer her the comfort of strangers.
Stephen, August 1 2006 9:13 PM EDT
Ranger pushed back his chair like a bouncer pushing away drunks at a seedy nightclub at two in
the morning, except he was sitting down, his fingers aching like an overweight marathon runner's
legs, completing a Carnage Blender session, which, if it had been real, would have left him
surrounded by a pile of bloodied corpses resembling the scene at an abattoir where the workers
killing the cows haven't been told there is a haulage strike at the other end of the slaughtering
process, but it wasn't real, and his carpet was considerably cleaner as a result.
BMWheatIey, August 1 2006 11:51 PM EDT
1T W4S 4 D4RK 4|\|D 570RMY |\| |GHT i|\| CBL4|\|D, 4|\|D |\/|0|\|7Y \/\/45 o|\||_1|\|3 1|\|
C4R|\|4G3...
Sefton, August 2 2006 5:11 PM EDT
So here we were, in the middle of the battle, and the mage says with a smile, There is no smoke
without fire, and I says to the mage, yah but all good things must come to an end, then the tank
runs up and yells time and tide waits for no man, CHARGE and the mage adds we must fight fire
with fire, so I say, lets storm them after all nothing ventured, nothing gained, and the tank says,
man proposes and god disposes, which prompts the mage to chime in that a fireball is such a
beautiful thing, so I say, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder so the tank says, don't just stand
here, you want your cake and eat it too, so I say, oh that is the pot calling the kettle black, then the
wall rushes in the fight and the tanks says he is a chip off the old block so I say to the tank, I say,
sure the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, you should not put all your eggs
into one basket, I mean you can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink, which
makes the mage so mad he says, well misery loves company, and I say, birds of a feather flock
together so about that time the tank gets his head chopped off and the normally stoic wall adds,
those who live by the sword, die by the sword.
Johnnywas(Angle Of Deaf), August 8 2006 4:44 AM EDT
He was tired, tired like he had been stuck in a tiny room, signing autographed photos of himself
for his admiring fans, fans whose very lust for his chiselled features actually scared him, scared
him like a something very very scary would,scared him like the realization that he was tired
because he had been up late last night, burning one last burn of BA, and he actually had no fans,
unless you counted the one droning at the back of computer; bloody hell, he thought it's a lonely
existence trying to make the first chapter of his really boring book seem like one sentence, and
this was no ordinary sentence this was a life sentence and the crime was poor spelling and over
cliched hyperbole and a bad haircut, my god such a bad haircut, one day it was all going to fall out
and then what would he do but
*snores*
Slashundhack, August 13 2006 1:14 AM EDT
Bitter he toiled mending his teams gear,new guy,they said sharpen my sword,polish my
shield,wash my under things,wash my under THINGS,why the morons they used him like a
lackey,sure when they asked him to join, the glad hands were many,the ale flowed like water after
the families yearly bath, thick and strangely potent,rendolent with the time past,time well
spent,time as only ten children can spend time,but that time was past for he needed to send
money home for his brothers apprenticeship to the baker,that should have been his job ,oh if only
he hadn't shown a talent for magic!
