WK8: AOWL CONTENDERSHIP: Vulgar (5-2) vs. Zen (2-0) [Zen wins by NS.]

[King Ra.]

AOWL Season IV, Week 8


OFFICIAL RULES:

Verses are due Sunday, November 23rd, 11:59p.m. PCT/2:59a.m. EST/7:59a.m. UK. There are NO extensions.

Verses MUST be a minimum 10 lines or a maximum of 48 lines (or 650 words).

Votes are due Wednesday, November 26th, 11:59p.m. PCT/2:59a.m. EST/7:59a.m. UK. Failure to vote will result in automatic sign out for the next week.


TOPIC: Click here. (http://netcees.co/showthread.php?t=107238)


Good luck. Vulgar Zen

[Zen]

Good luck ole buddy, ole pal.

[Vulgar]

Gl mate.

[Zen]

It was nearly midnight now as I stood at the bar.
James stood beside me, and I noticed he looked a little parched.
So, Mick, the bartender, brought us another round before we took out in our car.
We picked up the glasses and James shook my arm,
and made a toast that was short and sweet.
“To old age. Lord, let us croak in our sleep.”
With a clink of the glass, we drunk them both with ease
before we walked out, stumbling, into the cold of the street.
We made it to his car around the corner and dove in the seats.
“I didn't think we’d ever make it out here.” James said with a slur.
“Figured my mother would hear I was dead on the curb,
but if she knew I was at bar she’d probably drop dead first.”
He laughed until we were startled by a pound on the window.
A tall, slender man stood out in a trench coat.
Behind him was a small crowd all around a limo.
“Follow me.” He said as he turned back around.
A man opened my door and I asked, “What is this all about?”
as he pulled me from the car and threw a bag over my head
and forced me towards the limo as we snapped in duress.
They shoved me onto the seat and one man grabbed my neck
forcing me on the leather seats as the other cuffed my wrists,
all the while James was screaming, “What the FUCK is this!?”

With a slam of the door, the limo left in a hurry,
and it didn't stop until after what felt like an eternity.

Men grabbed us at our arms and walked us up a flight of stairs,
and doors creaked open in front of us breaking the silence in the air.
The floor was wooden, I could tell only from the sounds,
but all I could think was, “Where the hell are we now?”
The bags were removed and men were everywhere in gowns
with masks covering their faces, each with red in their cowls.
“What is this?” James said with his shaken from terror and doubt.
One man stepped forward. “Welcome to The Underground.”

9