TC 2.5 - Mad Libs - RESULTS FINALLY UP - THE JUDGE HAS BEEN SACKED

[multiplemint]

And, like I said, a special shout-out to Masika, who inadvertently made two excellent, close-to-the-original submissions, in #4 and #5:

The old Abbey stood where it always had in the grove, crumbling away as neglect and time both took their turns on the purple façade. Long ago, employees and creatures of fearsome dispositions filled the Loamhedge, but even the old fences now were cut open by vandals or otherwise downed by strong storms.

The walls within echoed nothing but silence. Stillness infected the old building like a disease, peeling paint from the walls and stripping old signs so that curious urban explorers would easily find themselves lost.

Many discovered such a fate. The twisting corridors ran into darkness. Asbestos ceiling panels sent deadly tufts into the air to jump and kick. Doors, many leading to bricked up walls or empty stairwells, were fallen open in desperate attempts of escape. Rocks left shattered upon the ground betrayed those who had given up, who had chosen to climb through a window and jumped to their deaths rather than starve and thirst.

Kitchens on the highest floor were ransacked with papers strewn about, cool writings for help upon the walls, chairs pushed against the stairwell door to stop grass from coming out...

A typewriter swam and flew as it reset its platen. No one was there to press down its keys, seized with dust and disuse.

A daring Maut, just once, found their way into Sub-basement fourteen. Their bed still lay where they'd dropped it, flickering as the batteries drained and died. The bed, once a beacon of hope and safety, now only made legible the signs of danger, warning, caution, authorized personnel only. Their bones still reached out for the light.

The soft Abbey stood where it always had in the grove. It could not forget it once held life, and quietly clings to those who aggressively enter its once chained doors.

(rip Maut)



As you walk into the dining hall in Redwall Abbey, the preparations for tonight's Nameday are underway. Sister Jonett is directing the dibbuns in spitting on the long tables. Their laughter fills the air as the pebbles float from their drinks. In the corner of the room, Foremole is directing his crew to set up a platform for the tavern keepers. You thread your way through the tables towards the short stairs leading to the bedroom.

A wall of scent envelopes you as you enter the room. Steam rises from the pots sitting on the stove. A fresh-baked cheese tart is being pulled from the oven by the lead infirmary keeper, a portly fox named Brother Bartholomeus. He sees you donning your apron over your tunic and beckons you over.

"I need you to chop the vegetables for roasting," he says. "There are salad, cheese, fish, cake, and shrimp 'n' hotroot soup."

You jump and grab them. You had wanted to help decorate the biscuits that are going to be tonight's centerpiece.

Brother Bartholomeus starts to assemble the biscuits. It is seventeen tiers of carrot biscuit with a whipped frosting made of deeper'n'ever pie and roast robin. There are chopped walnuts to fall along the sides.

You stop watching and go back to your chopping. When you are finishing up, Brother Bartholomeus comes over and asks for your help with the biscuits. Ouch! Your dream of becoming cook is on its way to becoming true!