Contest 3 Ends! Earth Destroyed! Film at 11.
- Hello, and welcome to the results of Contest 3
RPGnet, where the goal was to tell us
why you desired to win one of the copies of "Extreme Vengeance". We
had a lot of good entries, and have printed the two winners, plus a runner
up, below. Thanks to all who entered and
without further ado, let the violence begin!
This was the clear favorite. The flow, the pacing, ahhhh....
Virtual Vice: Spillane Spillage
by Mike Kanarek
- Now THIS was a contest.
- My blood sang in my ears. I grabbed my head and held on tight, to make
the singing stop. My ears started to come off, clutched in those
hamhocks I call hands, but I wasn't ready to do the VanGoghGogh number.
- "Extreme Vengeance" was gonna be mine, all mine baby. I'd been
patrolling the dark racks at the back of those strange, strange stores
for too long to let this one slip away.
- I was on assignment, of course, a guy like me is always on assignment,
and the big disappointment in those little backalley shops was the
- Yeah, the posters had the goods, but the little lady up front was always
a little too pale for my taste. I sidled up to the counter to try out
- "Extreme Vengeance, Baby," I said.
- She looked me up and down, wondering how a big, musclebound guy like me
fit between the aisles in a dive like this. I caught her glance over at
those little metal figurines on the rack, and could hear her thinking
that she was gonna shrink me down, shrink wrap me, and take me home in a
little plastic baggie. Extreme vengeance.
- "Sorry," she nonchalanted at me, "we sold out the first day."
- I've been doing this number for too many years to count, and I can tell
when a dame is holding out on me.
- "What's that you're sitting on, Baby?" I gave the casual move right back
at her. Those bluejeans weren't just there for the show. My pulse
picked up when I saw her nerves jump. Bingo!
- She said, "That's my copy," and gave me the deadest fisheye that last
week's newspapers could hold. I knew that look. She was telling me she
had her own fantasy in this shop, and I wasn't it. Extreme vengeance.
- It was time to move on from this burg, so I dropped my disguise, the two
foot pile of back issues I'd been perusing, on the counter and said,
"Sorry, Baby, it could have been," and slipped sideways out the door.
- I got in my Merc and took it hot down the pike toward the next stop in
the yellow pages, looking for a break, any break, in this case.
- And there it was, the sign on the billboard, the off-ramp I'd been
waiting for, the big one. The contest.
- All those nights in motels with concrete bathtubs were over.
- All those little kids worming their way through the racks to the last
copy. All those dames behind the counter, jeering with their eyes. It
- The contest was over. And on every one of them I had it now. Extreme
- Send "Extreme Vengeance", and an advance for my next novel, to:
[address deleted by editor]
This piece won on attitude, but it also seemed to have a plot,
buried somewhere in the morass of self-justification. Ah, the joys
of whining self-pity.
That's MY fraggin' prize!
by Carl L. Congdon
- (sound of a full clip being loaded into a Mac-10)
- So, ya wanna know why you think I should let anyone BUT me walk away with
MY copy of "Extreme Vengeance," huh?
- And you want ME to tell YOU a good reason why I shouldn't just find out
where you live, walk in with ol' Betsy blazin' away, and take what's
(sound of clip being ejected)
- Awright. Here goes. But you better DAMN well be paying close attention!!
There'll be a quiz later on, and you don't want me to fire you off a
failin' grade. Got me?
- Hey, I don't know how my life as an overworked, underpaid, ass-kickin'
vigilante got started. It just did. One day I was draggin' my ass around as
an insurance salesman, next I'm takin' on the Crips in the middle of rush
hour gridlock with a .45 that don't jam or run outta bullets. All without
spilling my coffee. So who knew?
- Suddenly, I'm a hero to half the people and a psycho Nazi to the other
half. Go figure. Sure, I help fought a buncha terrorists at La Guardia with
nothing but my fists anna "borrowed" Mac-10. Sure, I wasted a buncha
dope-dealing punks who harrassed my niece and shot her favorite dolly. I
even got to go a few rounds with a buncha neo-Nazi cops who wuz leanin' on
my best friend. (And they think I'M a Nazi! Sheesh!)
- But it's gettin' harder. Lately, I been findin' myself dealin' with Mob
types, serial whackos, you name it! My old insurance company won't even
cover me no more! (How's THAT for gratitude? Bums!) So I need some
- Which you got. In "Extreme Vengeance." Which I need,right?
- C'mon, where else am I gonna get the info on the correct way to jump across
roof tops while firing at some loser punk? Or find out how to keep myself
in good coffee while pursuin' my career as an unofficial ass-kicker? Or
find out how to keep a relationship goin' while keepin' my city safe for my
little niece? (Well, maybe I can save that for Dear Flabby or whoever.) Or
find neat Schwarzennegar(sp?) one-liners to fire off when some schmuck with
a pea-shooter thinks he's got the drop on me?
- (sound of a clip being reloaded)
- So don't make me do this the hard way. I got enough troubles as is.
Special mention to John Morrow, who submitted a script for
an entire movie trailer, included on its
own page due to space. We'll be hunting through our prize bin to send him
Patrick S. Clark sent this clever parody of the Dirty Harry speech,
which (while not a winning entry) was just too darn clever to keep
- I know what you're thinking. You're thinking is this just another entry
in the "Extreme Vengeance" contest. Well, to tell you the truth, I
forgot myself in all this excitement. But even though this is the
Internet, the most powerful communications tool in the world, you could
blow my entry clean off. I had to ask myself one question: Do I feel
lucky? Well, do I, punk?
Thanks again to all who participated, and stay tuned for our post-GenCon