Friday, June 19, 2009

100th Post Extravaganza Spectacular and All Those Other Adjectives

100 posts baby!!!

This moment is definitely rated five exclamation points.

Now that the party's started, it's time to announce the contest.

Are you ready?

Wait for it....



Okay, three words: deus ex machina.


Definition time! Deus ex machina: a person or event that provides a sudden and unexpected solution to a difficulty. Examples can be found here.

So, I bet you're wondering what any of this has to do with the contest. I want you guys to come up with funny examples of deus ex machina. Anything original that will make me giggle (keep it clean, though). What will I do with these entries? I will pick the funniest entry and illustrate it. Then the illustration will become a blog award for anybody dasaloff. Yes, I know you're disappointed I can't give out schwag 'cuz I'm broke, but trust me, if you have a good entry it will be hilarious. Like I said, I'm judging based on which entry is the funniest, so don't worry about how ridiculous it might be (I will still attempt to draw it).

This contest closes on Friday July 3 at noon because that's when I'll be back from Italy. You can leave entries in the comments. And if you mention the contest on your blog leave me the link and you will definitely get some brownie points...and maybe something else.

I know it's a challenge, but I'm excited to see what everyone comes up with. You can do it!

Oh, and when I get back the contest will continue. See this post for more details.

Alright then, I guess I'll be back in two weeks! Have fun and be creative!


Sarah said...

Did you mean July 3? I'm pretty out of it but I had the impression we were already in June! Lol.
Anyway, excellent contest idea.
Congrats on your 100th post!!!

Mariah Irvin said...

Haha. Thanks Sarah. I've been feeling like quite a spaz lately!

Carrie Harris said...

Awesome contest. :) Hope you're having fun in Italy too.

Okay, here's my entry.

The zombies were closing in on our safe house. Their incessant moans made me want to scream at them to shut up, even though I knew it wouldn't work and we were going to be dead in about fifteen minutes anyway. Shawn returned from his hurried rummage through our storage closet and held out his hand to me. My heart leapt with hope.

"You found ammo!"

"I found Skittles," he said, dropping a small bag of candy into my hand.

There was a flash of bright light, and suddenly a huge guy stood in the corner of the room. He was wearing a toga, and it kind of looked good on him.

"Did someone say Skittles?" he asked, in a booming voice that thankfully drowned out the moans for a second.

"Um... yeah," I replied.

"I love Skittles. Can I have some?"

"You can have them all if you can get us out of here," I said, holding the fruit-flavored bag of goodness up and making it dance before his eyes.

He scoffed. "I am Zeus. I can do anything!"

I would have laughed at that, except that he threw a lightning bolt out the window and killed all the zombies.

We're leaving the house now. I plan to stock up on Skittles for the next time the zombies attack.

T.K. Harpene said...

Congrats. :) I found your blog through an online friend of mine. Keep up the good work...and the writing.

awwaggener said...

I hope that Italy is glorious and congrats on breaking 100!

My entry:

Jazz pressed herself against the brick wall and kept her gaze on the opening between alley and street. The vampire advanced, a hungry look in his matte black eyes, a leer parting his thin lips.

Jazz considered screaming, but doubted that it would help. The back door of the dance club was cracked open, a young Justin Timberlake and Company crooning “Bye, Bye, Bye” through the speakers. The dancers inside squealed delight at the ‘90s throwback. They’d never hear her.

So instead Jazz squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, trying desperately to remember the words of the Hail Mary. Unfortunately, she wasn’t Catholic and doubted that the Virgin would help her without a down payment. She felt a whimper working its way up her throat.

There was a pause. “Zat,” the vampire began, his voice heavy with a French accent, “iz a nize sveater you are wearink.” Jazz stole a peek at him. He’d come to a stop just a few yards away, his white hands limp at his sides. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t a vampire at all. But you didn’t have canines like that and try to blame them on genetics unless you were a Labrador. Besides, he was wearing a cape.

“It’s silk,” Jazz said weakly. “And new. It’d be a shame to get blood stains all over it.”

The vampire frowned. “Yez,” he said at last. Then he drew aside his cape and pulled a wallet from his slacks. “Ezpecially if zey zet in. I’ll cheep een for a cab and dry cleanink.”

“Sweet of you.”

“Don’t mention eet. How much doez a zycle go for zese daiz?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jazz said. “Two, three—”

The door of the club flew open, metal handle smacking into concrete. A skinny blond steadied himself on a nearby trashcan and pushed his glasses back onto his nose.

“Didn’t see the step there,” he gasped. “Jesus, Jazz, where’ve you been?”

The vampire shrank back, shielding his ears.

“Michael?” Jazz felt a flood of relief. She wasn’t sure why, since Michael wasn’t exactly a knight in shining anything, but misery loves company. “How’d you know I was back here?”

“Well I saw you leaving with creeper,” Michael said, jerking a thumb at the cringing vampire. “But then this guy came around handing out vials of holy water and I thought you’d think it was funny so I brought you one—oh for the love of marzipan.” The cork flew out of the proffered vial, splattering the alleyway with water. The vampire began to shriek and bat at his cloak, which was smoking. “Christ, dude, calm down” Michael said, which only made the shrieks crescendo. The vampire was hopping on one foot now, because his other shoe had touched the scattered droplets of holy water.

Jazz ran over and grabbed Michael’s forearm as the vampire took off down the alley. His leather shoes left the curb and he shot up into a cool autumn night, trailing smoke and a heartbroken cry of Louis Vuittonnnnnnnn!

Michael stared after him. “I thought that the devil wore Prada,” he said.

Jazz shrugged and headed back toward the welcome thud of boy-band pop. “And I thought that vampires were Romanian,” she said. “We can’t all live up to expectations.”

I don't know that it's deus ex machina by the book, but it's what my mind upchucked. ;)