Battle Confusion challenger 2
Title: Cybercrimes Department of Horrors
Words: 235
Fandom: NCIS
Notes: The title is totally supposed to be a Little Shop of Horrors joke. Spoilers for the season finale.
“I don’t understand,” McGee admitted.
“No, I didn’t think you would,” the suspect insisted. “You see,” he shook his finger at McGee for emphasis, but the chain of the handcuffs jerked his fist back down to the metal arm of the chair with a loud rattle. “This is what’s wrong with the system!”
“No,” McGee said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand why you decided to hack a Navy system because a guy in a Bear in the Big Blue House costume told you to.”
“Because Bear told me to!” He jerked against the cuffs and tried to slam his fist against the table for emphasis, but because of the range of motion allowed by the handcuffs, it ended up not looking threatening but rather making him look even crazier.
“And this bear is a cartoon character?” Agent Finkel asked without looking up from his notebook.
As the suspect launched into yet another frenzied explanation of what exactly a bear in a big blue house was, McGee scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand. “Really, Finkel? We just calmed him down from the last time someone asked him that.”
“Sorry, Agent McGee. Not all of us in cybercrimes have your esteemed interrogation experience.” He closed his notebook with a snap before exiting the room and leaving McGee alone to deal with their irate suspect.
“I hate my job,” McGee muttered.
Title: First Base
Words: 555
Fandom: Torchwood
Notes: Jack/Ianto, Jack/other, set sometime in series two.
“So. You hit the ball,” Ianto said.
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“And then you run in a circle.”
“More of a diamond shape, but that’s the general idea, yes.”
“But if you don’t complete the circle-excuse me, diamond, before one of your teammates mucks it up-”
“Before three of them muck it up, actually.”
Ianto nodded. “Then you score no points.”
“Exactly.”
Ianto nodded again. “No wonder the game goes extinct by the 51st century. It sounds very dull.”
“Right, but you’re not seeing the beauty of it,” Jack insisted.
“Which is what, exactly?”
“He had the most incredible arms. That’s what footballers miss-they don’t have to use their arms for much of anything.”
“That’s because you’re not supposed to touch the ball unless you’re the goalkeeper.”
“Right, so upper arm strength isn’t utilized-unless you’re the goalkeeper. But in baseball. Every little boy dreams of hitting a homerun in Venutian Fields Park. And to do that-”
“-upper arm strength is required. But you said the game was nearly extinct by your time.”
“Right.”
“Then why would every boy dream of hitting a home run if the game was nearly extinct?”
“Because sweeping generalizations sound more romantic than saying that only one out of one hundred little boys dreamed of it, and this is the story of why I prefer baseball to football.”
“Actually, the story was supposed to be about your first crush.”
“Well, they’re really one in the same. My first crush played baseball. He dreamed of hitting a home run in Venutian Fields Park. And he certainly looked good doing it.”
“I see.” A beat. “No, no I really don’t. Your first crush was when you were 20?”
A wolfish grin. “No, he was just the first juicy one.”
Exasperation. “Then how does that answer my question?”
“What do you mean? How doesn’t it?”
“It’s not the truth. It’s not really your first crush.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who accused me of being evasive.”
“So you answer my question, asked with the understanding that I could ask you anything to make you seem less mysterious and evasive . . . with an untruthful answer?”
“It’s a version of the truth. I promised nothing about being truthful. I do have to keep up my masculine mystique after all.”
Ianto sat back in his chair and regarded both Jack and his own wine glass thoughtfully. “As dates go, this may be the strangest I’ve ever been on.”
“This is your desired scenario the floating ball of gas put us in. I wonder when it’ll be over.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“Don’t get offended, I’ve just been considering what dream scenario of mine we might find ourselves in after this one’s done.”
The predatory grin made Ianto raise an eyebrow. He considered Gwen, Tosh, and Owen bustling around in the hub beyond the bubble encapsulating their date, attempting to dislodge them from it. Gwen appeared to shout something at them, but the words were too muffled by the edge of the sphere to be comprehensible. It was clear, however, that Ianto and Jack were perfectly visible to her.
“I would imagine that your dream situation might be best left for somewhere away from prying eyes. Besides, our date isn’t over yet.”
Jack grinned. “So now I get to ask you a question?”
Title: The Business of Men
Words: 530
Fandom: Firefly
Notes: Set during the series. Jayne/Simon.
Mal gritted his teeth. “You are sending us on a wild goose chase and that just ain’t sittin’ too pretty with me right now.”
The man writhing under Jayne’s forearm opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
“Let him talk.”
Jayne begrudgingly removed a certain amount of pressure from the man’s neck. The man gulped in air like a drowner before collapsing around Jayne’s arm.
“I told you not to hill him!” Mal hollered.
“Ain’t my fault you talked too long.” He grabbed the man by the shoulder. “’sides, he’s still breathin’.”
Mal grabbed the other arm. “Let’s take him to the doc.
----------
Usefulness was something Jayne could appreciate in a body, especially when it showed up in Simon of all places in the verse.
The stirring of his nethers while watching the doc patch up the leg wound in their employer was something he did not.
The near-instant boner he got when Simon said, “Jayne, hand me those tongs and gauze” was downright shocking. So shocking that he almost lost the menacing grip he had on Vera.
“Jayne,” Mal barked. “there something the matter with you?”
He snapped out of it and reached for the tray nearest him-bumped Simon’s hand already around the shaft of the-
He moved Vera’s hilt to cover his dick. “Mighty borin’ watchin’ the doc fool around with this dillhole,” Jayne grunted.
“I wouldn’t have to had you not sliced so close to this man’s femoral artery.”
“Don’t answer why I have to stand here watchin’.”
Mal smiled all smarmy. “Well, Jayne, ou may just have to watch and learn from your mistakes. ‘sides, I figure if he wakes up to your smilin’ face, he’s liable to give us any information we ask for.”
“Ask for?” The doc raised an eyebrow.
“Politely, of course.” He patted Simon’s shoulder. “Man owes us some money.”
----------
“He didn’t know shit,” Jayne grunted. “Damn fool was only wasting his daddy’s money on account of Inara refusin’ his business.” He set the weights back and sat up on the bench. He fixed the Sheppard with a stare. “Don’t that just figure. First job we get in-” He stopped dead when River ran into the cargo bay, Simon not far behind her. They ran into Inara’s shuttle.
Jayne’s reaction was almost instant. His eyes got huge as his blood got hotter.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” he muttered.
“May I suggest talking about it?” Book offered.
Jayne looked disturbed at the shuttle door. “I’m-confused.”
Book smiled at him. “in my experience, we all are.”
“Nah, preacher, this is serious. Swear to be you won’t breathe a word?”
“Of course.”
“I think-I-work up on the sly side of the bed this morning.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s the doc! He’s-all of a sudden-I. Keep. Thinkin’ ‘bout him. In a . . . impure kind a way.”
“Ah.”
“It’s. It’s . . .”
“Confusing?”
“Yeah.”
Just when the Sheppard started saying, “Well, in my,” Simon came out of the shuttle, bent over to pick something up.
Jayne’s dick got interested even faster than it had before. “I’ll be in my bunk,” he muttered.
Title: On a Need to Know Basis
Words: 723
Fandom: Psych
Notes: No specific setting. Gus/Henry implied. I was trying to go more for the confusion of the reader rather than the confusion of the characters, though that’s there, too.
“Dude, I’ve got it. Jules.”
Gus pursed his lips and stared at the red light.
“Totally Jules.”
“It’s not Jules.”
“Chief Vick?”
“No.”
“Lassy?”
The glare Gus shot him could’ve wreaked havoc on global warming.
“Mrs. DeWitt?”
“Our sixth grade math teacher-who was older than my grandmother when we were in sixth grade? Who was around when the abacus was cutting edge? Are you serious?”
“Gus, you know those abacuses-abacai? Abacuses-developed great finger strength. Imagine that.”
Gus shuddered, but then, so did Shawn.
“Who else would you be ashamed to tell me you were dating?”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Way to act like you have to be. Gus, if you’re dating the channel 5 sports guy, I’ll still support you.” He brought his fist up to his chest earnestly. “You will always be my Gus.”
“I’m not doing this, Shawn.” He his the breaks harder than he normally would. “Now are you going to question your suspect or do I have to do it myself?”
“Gus, you know Mister Squeakers doesn’t appreciate it when you take his credit.”
“He’s a guinea pig, Shawn.”
“I can’t help if it animals have such close bonds with the spiritual world.” He moved his hands like he was putting on a mystical act for the police instead of for Gus.
“If we were in Ecuador, Squeakers would be dinner.” He jerked the car door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Shawn covered the cage with his hand. “Mister Squeakers does not like to be reminded of the plight of his people!”
Gus glared at him over the roof of the car before stomping to the front door.
----------
With San Jose disappearing in the rear view mirror, Shawn lifted the cage to his ear. What’s that, Mister Squeakers? Yeah, I want to know who Gus is ashamed to tell me he’s sleeping with, too, but he just wont spill.”
“I am not ashamed, Shawn.”
“Oh, Gus, of course you are. If you weren’t, you would’ve told me already.”
“It’s personal, Shawn.”
“Dude, who you’re doing the horizontal and sometimes vertical mambo with is totally something you tell your best friend.”
“Keep this up and you may not have to worry about it for much longer.”
Shawn went silent for all of two miles.
“Brianna Davis!”
“She has an extra toe!”
“In some cultures that may be very alluring. A sign of plentiful bounty.”
“In what cultures would Brianna Davis’s extra toe and flip flops be a turn on?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure somewhere.”
Gus turned up the volume on the stereo as loud as he could stand it.
Shawn turned it down. “You know Mister Squeakers has sensitive hearing.”
“Guinea pig, Shawn.”
“He still has feelings, Gus!”
----------
“Shawn, it’s 5:30 in the morning. What the hell are you doing banging on my door?”
“Because if I tapped gently you wouldn’t have woken up. Why are you whispering?”
“I’m not whispering.”
“Yeah, you are. Oh, Gus, is the lucky lady here right now?” He craned his neck to look over Gus’ shoulder.
“No.”
“Lucky fella?”
“Shawn, go away and come back at a reasonable hour.”
“Definitely a fella.” He pushed past Gus into the apartment and picked up a discarded baseball hat. “Unless you’ve taken to cheering for UC Santa Barbra. My dad can’t be rubbing off on you that much.”
Gus stood completely still, as if he were expecting a wild animal to attack him.
That was when the realization seemed to dawn on Shawn. He dropped the hat like it was on fire. “My dad?” He pointed back to the bedroom. “And he’s-right now-”
Gus crossed his arms defensively. “I told you to drop it.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“Can we please discuss this later?”
“No,” Shawn said immediately. “Let’s just never discuss this. Ever, ever again. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened.”
Gus focused on a spot over Shawn’s shoulder. Shawn did not turn around to see his father standing right behind him, having emerged from his best friend’s bedroom.
“You know it’s not going to work like that, Shawn.”
“Now is really not the time, Dad.”
Henry pushed past him, grabbed his hat off the floor, and looked only at Gus. “You’re right.” He left. When the door closed behind him, Gus looked pained.
Please rate the competitor in the following areas, 1 being the lowest score and 5 being the highest score.
Poll
Words: 235
Fandom: NCIS
Notes: The title is totally supposed to be a Little Shop of Horrors joke. Spoilers for the season finale.
“I don’t understand,” McGee admitted.
“No, I didn’t think you would,” the suspect insisted. “You see,” he shook his finger at McGee for emphasis, but the chain of the handcuffs jerked his fist back down to the metal arm of the chair with a loud rattle. “This is what’s wrong with the system!”
“No,” McGee said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand why you decided to hack a Navy system because a guy in a Bear in the Big Blue House costume told you to.”
“Because Bear told me to!” He jerked against the cuffs and tried to slam his fist against the table for emphasis, but because of the range of motion allowed by the handcuffs, it ended up not looking threatening but rather making him look even crazier.
“And this bear is a cartoon character?” Agent Finkel asked without looking up from his notebook.
As the suspect launched into yet another frenzied explanation of what exactly a bear in a big blue house was, McGee scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand. “Really, Finkel? We just calmed him down from the last time someone asked him that.”
“Sorry, Agent McGee. Not all of us in cybercrimes have your esteemed interrogation experience.” He closed his notebook with a snap before exiting the room and leaving McGee alone to deal with their irate suspect.
“I hate my job,” McGee muttered.
Title: First Base
Words: 555
Fandom: Torchwood
Notes: Jack/Ianto, Jack/other, set sometime in series two.
“So. You hit the ball,” Ianto said.
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“And then you run in a circle.”
“More of a diamond shape, but that’s the general idea, yes.”
“But if you don’t complete the circle-excuse me, diamond, before one of your teammates mucks it up-”
“Before three of them muck it up, actually.”
Ianto nodded. “Then you score no points.”
“Exactly.”
Ianto nodded again. “No wonder the game goes extinct by the 51st century. It sounds very dull.”
“Right, but you’re not seeing the beauty of it,” Jack insisted.
“Which is what, exactly?”
“He had the most incredible arms. That’s what footballers miss-they don’t have to use their arms for much of anything.”
“That’s because you’re not supposed to touch the ball unless you’re the goalkeeper.”
“Right, so upper arm strength isn’t utilized-unless you’re the goalkeeper. But in baseball. Every little boy dreams of hitting a homerun in Venutian Fields Park. And to do that-”
“-upper arm strength is required. But you said the game was nearly extinct by your time.”
“Right.”
“Then why would every boy dream of hitting a home run if the game was nearly extinct?”
“Because sweeping generalizations sound more romantic than saying that only one out of one hundred little boys dreamed of it, and this is the story of why I prefer baseball to football.”
“Actually, the story was supposed to be about your first crush.”
“Well, they’re really one in the same. My first crush played baseball. He dreamed of hitting a home run in Venutian Fields Park. And he certainly looked good doing it.”
“I see.” A beat. “No, no I really don’t. Your first crush was when you were 20?”
A wolfish grin. “No, he was just the first juicy one.”
Exasperation. “Then how does that answer my question?”
“What do you mean? How doesn’t it?”
“It’s not the truth. It’s not really your first crush.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who accused me of being evasive.”
“So you answer my question, asked with the understanding that I could ask you anything to make you seem less mysterious and evasive . . . with an untruthful answer?”
“It’s a version of the truth. I promised nothing about being truthful. I do have to keep up my masculine mystique after all.”
Ianto sat back in his chair and regarded both Jack and his own wine glass thoughtfully. “As dates go, this may be the strangest I’ve ever been on.”
“This is your desired scenario the floating ball of gas put us in. I wonder when it’ll be over.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“Don’t get offended, I’ve just been considering what dream scenario of mine we might find ourselves in after this one’s done.”
The predatory grin made Ianto raise an eyebrow. He considered Gwen, Tosh, and Owen bustling around in the hub beyond the bubble encapsulating their date, attempting to dislodge them from it. Gwen appeared to shout something at them, but the words were too muffled by the edge of the sphere to be comprehensible. It was clear, however, that Ianto and Jack were perfectly visible to her.
“I would imagine that your dream situation might be best left for somewhere away from prying eyes. Besides, our date isn’t over yet.”
Jack grinned. “So now I get to ask you a question?”
Title: The Business of Men
Words: 530
Fandom: Firefly
Notes: Set during the series. Jayne/Simon.
Mal gritted his teeth. “You are sending us on a wild goose chase and that just ain’t sittin’ too pretty with me right now.”
The man writhing under Jayne’s forearm opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
“Let him talk.”
Jayne begrudgingly removed a certain amount of pressure from the man’s neck. The man gulped in air like a drowner before collapsing around Jayne’s arm.
“I told you not to hill him!” Mal hollered.
“Ain’t my fault you talked too long.” He grabbed the man by the shoulder. “’sides, he’s still breathin’.”
Mal grabbed the other arm. “Let’s take him to the doc.
----------
Usefulness was something Jayne could appreciate in a body, especially when it showed up in Simon of all places in the verse.
The stirring of his nethers while watching the doc patch up the leg wound in their employer was something he did not.
The near-instant boner he got when Simon said, “Jayne, hand me those tongs and gauze” was downright shocking. So shocking that he almost lost the menacing grip he had on Vera.
“Jayne,” Mal barked. “there something the matter with you?”
He snapped out of it and reached for the tray nearest him-bumped Simon’s hand already around the shaft of the-
He moved Vera’s hilt to cover his dick. “Mighty borin’ watchin’ the doc fool around with this dillhole,” Jayne grunted.
“I wouldn’t have to had you not sliced so close to this man’s femoral artery.”
“Don’t answer why I have to stand here watchin’.”
Mal smiled all smarmy. “Well, Jayne, ou may just have to watch and learn from your mistakes. ‘sides, I figure if he wakes up to your smilin’ face, he’s liable to give us any information we ask for.”
“Ask for?” The doc raised an eyebrow.
“Politely, of course.” He patted Simon’s shoulder. “Man owes us some money.”
----------
“He didn’t know shit,” Jayne grunted. “Damn fool was only wasting his daddy’s money on account of Inara refusin’ his business.” He set the weights back and sat up on the bench. He fixed the Sheppard with a stare. “Don’t that just figure. First job we get in-” He stopped dead when River ran into the cargo bay, Simon not far behind her. They ran into Inara’s shuttle.
Jayne’s reaction was almost instant. His eyes got huge as his blood got hotter.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” he muttered.
“May I suggest talking about it?” Book offered.
Jayne looked disturbed at the shuttle door. “I’m-confused.”
Book smiled at him. “in my experience, we all are.”
“Nah, preacher, this is serious. Swear to be you won’t breathe a word?”
“Of course.”
“I think-I-work up on the sly side of the bed this morning.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s the doc! He’s-all of a sudden-I. Keep. Thinkin’ ‘bout him. In a . . . impure kind a way.”
“Ah.”
“It’s. It’s . . .”
“Confusing?”
“Yeah.”
Just when the Sheppard started saying, “Well, in my,” Simon came out of the shuttle, bent over to pick something up.
Jayne’s dick got interested even faster than it had before. “I’ll be in my bunk,” he muttered.
Title: On a Need to Know Basis
Words: 723
Fandom: Psych
Notes: No specific setting. Gus/Henry implied. I was trying to go more for the confusion of the reader rather than the confusion of the characters, though that’s there, too.
“Dude, I’ve got it. Jules.”
Gus pursed his lips and stared at the red light.
“Totally Jules.”
“It’s not Jules.”
“Chief Vick?”
“No.”
“Lassy?”
The glare Gus shot him could’ve wreaked havoc on global warming.
“Mrs. DeWitt?”
“Our sixth grade math teacher-who was older than my grandmother when we were in sixth grade? Who was around when the abacus was cutting edge? Are you serious?”
“Gus, you know those abacuses-abacai? Abacuses-developed great finger strength. Imagine that.”
Gus shuddered, but then, so did Shawn.
“Who else would you be ashamed to tell me you were dating?”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Way to act like you have to be. Gus, if you’re dating the channel 5 sports guy, I’ll still support you.” He brought his fist up to his chest earnestly. “You will always be my Gus.”
“I’m not doing this, Shawn.” He his the breaks harder than he normally would. “Now are you going to question your suspect or do I have to do it myself?”
“Gus, you know Mister Squeakers doesn’t appreciate it when you take his credit.”
“He’s a guinea pig, Shawn.”
“I can’t help if it animals have such close bonds with the spiritual world.” He moved his hands like he was putting on a mystical act for the police instead of for Gus.
“If we were in Ecuador, Squeakers would be dinner.” He jerked the car door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Shawn covered the cage with his hand. “Mister Squeakers does not like to be reminded of the plight of his people!”
Gus glared at him over the roof of the car before stomping to the front door.
----------
With San Jose disappearing in the rear view mirror, Shawn lifted the cage to his ear. What’s that, Mister Squeakers? Yeah, I want to know who Gus is ashamed to tell me he’s sleeping with, too, but he just wont spill.”
“I am not ashamed, Shawn.”
“Oh, Gus, of course you are. If you weren’t, you would’ve told me already.”
“It’s personal, Shawn.”
“Dude, who you’re doing the horizontal and sometimes vertical mambo with is totally something you tell your best friend.”
“Keep this up and you may not have to worry about it for much longer.”
Shawn went silent for all of two miles.
“Brianna Davis!”
“She has an extra toe!”
“In some cultures that may be very alluring. A sign of plentiful bounty.”
“In what cultures would Brianna Davis’s extra toe and flip flops be a turn on?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure somewhere.”
Gus turned up the volume on the stereo as loud as he could stand it.
Shawn turned it down. “You know Mister Squeakers has sensitive hearing.”
“Guinea pig, Shawn.”
“He still has feelings, Gus!”
----------
“Shawn, it’s 5:30 in the morning. What the hell are you doing banging on my door?”
“Because if I tapped gently you wouldn’t have woken up. Why are you whispering?”
“I’m not whispering.”
“Yeah, you are. Oh, Gus, is the lucky lady here right now?” He craned his neck to look over Gus’ shoulder.
“No.”
“Lucky fella?”
“Shawn, go away and come back at a reasonable hour.”
“Definitely a fella.” He pushed past Gus into the apartment and picked up a discarded baseball hat. “Unless you’ve taken to cheering for UC Santa Barbra. My dad can’t be rubbing off on you that much.”
Gus stood completely still, as if he were expecting a wild animal to attack him.
That was when the realization seemed to dawn on Shawn. He dropped the hat like it was on fire. “My dad?” He pointed back to the bedroom. “And he’s-right now-”
Gus crossed his arms defensively. “I told you to drop it.”
“That doesn’t make it right!”
“Can we please discuss this later?”
“No,” Shawn said immediately. “Let’s just never discuss this. Ever, ever again. Let’s just pretend this conversation never happened.”
Gus focused on a spot over Shawn’s shoulder. Shawn did not turn around to see his father standing right behind him, having emerged from his best friend’s bedroom.
“You know it’s not going to work like that, Shawn.”
“Now is really not the time, Dad.”
Henry pushed past him, grabbed his hat off the floor, and looked only at Gus. “You’re right.” He left. When the door closed behind him, Gus looked pained.
Please rate the competitor in the following areas, 1 being the lowest score and 5 being the highest score.
Poll