Writing Challenge: Win a bottle of Benevolent Badger Blue! Details inside.

[the_edski]

Nicely done Vlad and Larry! This following short story isn't entirely mine. I collaborated on it with my grandfather shortly before his death. He always loved to write, but late in life, he had a few TIA's (like a mini stroke) and his writing became entirely illegible. So i started to write with and for him. He never told me if he wanted his stories published, but I think he did and maybe posting here is close enough. I wrote this from memory as the original was sadly lost in moving his things after he passed, I used a Sheaffer VFM loaded with PR Velvet Black on Clairfontaine Triomphe unlined. The title is "Too Cold in this town" by S. Richard First and Ed Janiszewski

Their two week furlough had finally come in. Rob was overjoyed. Ever since he was drafted, he knew he wasn’t cut out for the army. Nightly he dreamed of escaping from from Fort Bumble-wherever-I-am and going back home outside of Chicago. Charlie was the only damn thing keeping him in the service. Rob didn’t have any brothers and no friends growing up for that matter. Charlie was the closest he’d ever had to either of those.

“New York!” cried Charlie
“What?” asked Rob
“We should go to New York for our time away. I’m from Buffalo, you know, so I’ve heard all the stories” spoke Charlie
“Anywhere is better than there” said Rob in his usual melancholy
“I knew you’d say that” said Charlie as he threw a train pass at the chest of his friend “We leave in 2 hours, get packin’!”

The pair arrived just as night was starting to settle in on the city

“Come on, I heard of a good place. Nickel a beer, ten cents for a shot of rye! And the dames, Robbie, the dames!” Charlie was good and loaded, he had been pulling from a flask the whole train ride. Rob wasn’t much of a drinker, but he played along and followed.

They entered the bar and immediately both wore crestfallen looks. No dames, only sad, old men getting drunk on rickety stools in front of a dirty bar.

“This is the place?” asked Rob
“Can’t be!” shouted Charlie “Ok, we’ll sit for a few drinks and then go look for a party. This is New York City after all!”

The men ordered a shot and beer each. The barkeep slowly poured the order and then said “50 cents” as he laid the drinks down.

Charlie became irate “Who you think you are trying to swindle? Just because we look like a million bucks in our dress uniforms doesn’t mean we are made of money!”

The bartender merely shrugged and said ‘Pay or leave”

Charlie made a move to hop the counter with a mind to strangler the bartender. Rob interceded, grabbed his friend, threw a single down on the bar and they both exited.

Rob chimed up before Charlie could say anything “Let’s go find that party” and they started to walk. Before long, they heard the sound of laughter wafting from a lighted apartment. Charlie stopped dead and said “That’s our party!”

Rob came back with a question “How do you suppose we get up?”

“Couple handsome gents like us? We just wait here and they can’t help but see us and invite us up!” replied Charlie

And they waited, imagining the party, the drinks and the girls. It started to get late and no invitation came. Both young men began to shiver. Rob patted his friend on the shoulder and said “Thanks for trying to show me a good time. Let’s go back, we don’t belong here…it’s too cold in this town.”

[oc_in_fw]

Here is a scan of mine. Give me ten minutes and I will put up the typed version in case it can't be read. It started off somewhat neat, but then the hand started getting tired. I tried to do a PDF, but it was to large.

on edit: D'oh- I forgot to mention the paper. It is nothing but cheap 20 lb copier paper I have here at work.

[oc_in_fw]

Okay, I posted a jpeg of the written story, because I thought it might be fun for some to read the written word. I understand, however, my handwriting isn't the best. For those who cannot read chicken scratch, here you go:

So there I was, adrift in a life raft in the central Pacific. No land in sight. Earlier that day a storm had hit, and in short order my sailboat was swamped. I had just enough time to grab my emergency ration bag containing water and some cans of Spam. I also managed to grab my beloved dopp bag before the boat completely foundered.

Day 1 was uneventful. The waters were smooth and the breeze cool. I had some Spam- this stuff is junk but one must eat. The day was capped with a beautiful sunset.

I awoke on day 2 and instantly saw there was trouble- a dorsal fin slowly circling my flimsy rubber raft. The fin slowly moved closer, and I could see what could only be a Tiger Shark. It stared at me with its cold, almost lifeless eyes. No sooner did I think "oh hell" he bumped the raft- testing it out.

I panicked- what the hell can I do to make him go away? My mind was racing, my heart was trying to beat itself out of my chest. I had to do something!

I grabbed a can of Spam- that stuff could knock a buzzard off a meat wagon. No luck- it affected him not one whit. "Oh", thinks I, "there is a stick of Arko in my dopp bag. Surely that will repel him". I think this shark was a bit off, as he actually seemed to like it. I spot my Lilac Vegetal- this might be my Godsend. I furiously pull of the cap and splash it on him. Oh no- he is really ticked off now.

The shark swims away from my raft, turns, and begins his charge. I am done for. Then an idea hits me. I pull my Noodler's Ahab from my pocket, uncap it, and hold it aloft. The sun beams off of its massive steel nib, which is now glistening like the tip of a harpoon.

I cannot believe it- the shark swims past my raft and keeps on going. Then I hear the sound of an approaching helicopter. The massive glistening nib of my Ahab had attracted their attention, and I was rescued from certain death.

In closing, should you be in a life threatening situation, or if you just want to pen a letter to the editor, make sure you have an Ahab close by.



This was (sloppily) written with my Ahab in Arizona color scheme and Noodler's Black Eel ink.

edit: cheap 20 lb copier paper


******************************

Okay, Ernest Hemingway I am not

[the_edski]

Very nice OC, I can read it perfectly, we have very similar chicken scratch. I thought there was going to a white whale coming to the rescue or something, but the nib doing all the work was a nice touch!

Okay, I posted a jpeg of the written story, because I thought it might be fun for some to read the written word. I understand, however, my handwriting isn't the best. For those who cannot read chicken scratch, here you go:

So there I was, adrift in a life raft in the central Pacific. No land in sight. Earlier that day a storm had hit, and in short order my sailboat was swamped. I had just enough time to grab my emergency ration bag containing water and some cans of Spam. I also managed to grab my beloved dopp bag before the boat completely foundered.

Day 1 was uneventful. The waters were smooth and the breeze cool. I had some Spam- this stuff is junk but one must eat. The day was capped with a beautiful sunset.

I awoke on day 2 and instantly saw there was trouble- a dorsal fin slowly circling my flimsy rubber raft. The fin slowly moved closer, and I could see what could only be a Tiger Shark. It stared at me with its cold, almost lifeless eyes. No sooner did I think "oh hell" he bumped the raft- testing it out.

I panicked- what the hell can I do to make him go away? My mind was racing, my heart was trying to beat itself out of my chest. I had to do something!

I grabbed a can of Spam- that stuff could knock a buzzard off a meat wagon. No luck- it affected him not one whit. "Oh", thinks I, "there is a stick of Arko in my dopp bag. Surely that will repel him". I think this shark was a bit off, as he actually seemed to like it. I spot my Lilac Vegetal- this might be my Godsend. I furiously pull of the cap and splash it on him. Oh no- he is really ticked off now.

The shark swims away from my raft, turns, and begins his charge. I am done for. Then an idea hits me. I pull my Noodler's Ahab from my pocket, uncap it, and hold it aloft. The sun beams off of its massive steel nib, which is now glistening like the tip of a harpoon.

I cannot believe it- the shark swims past my raft and keeps on going. Then I hear the sound of an approaching helicopter. The massive glistening nib of my Ahab had attracted their attention, and I was rescued from certain death.

In closing, should you be in a life threatening situation, or if you just want to pen a letter to the editor, make sure you have an Ahab close by.



This was (sloppily) written with my Ahab in Arizona color scheme and Noodler's Black Eel ink.


******************************

Okay, Ernest Hemingway I am not

[Dave258]

Nice writing guys!

[oc_in_fw]

Very nice OC, I can read it perfectly, we have very similar chicken scratch. I thought there was going to a white whale coming to the rescue or something, but the nib doing all the work was a nice touch!

I got a bit of the inspiration from the guy at Noodler's. In the literature, he waxes poetic on how the clip of the Ahab is shaped like a whale when looking from the top, the body being the shape of Ahab's fake leg, the piston filler looking like the pumps on a whaling ship, and the nib looking like the tip of a harpoon. So, Nathan (I think it the Noodler's guy is named Nathan) deserves a little credit.

[orchestrion]

Five days with no entries? Let's see some more!

[DunEdinRanger]

April 27th, 2008 was a dark and stormy night, perhaps an omen of the seemingly innocuous decision made to join Badger & Blade. Tired of the results provided by an electric, daunted by the prices of cartridges, and in search of shaving nirvana I signed on to the forum. Little did I suspect I would also find writing nirvana.

It started when a friend asked about wet shaving. Unknown to me at the time, despite having worked together for a few years, is that he was and is an avid fountain pen user. He suggested I use Fountain Pens, and I, of course, scoffed at the idea! Why would I spend perfectly good money on Fountain Pens when there are cheap (read that as free) plentiful ball point pens readily available?

The whole idea smacked of frivolity. Then, a few months later, the Master Enabler, Brian W, tricked me into going to the New York Fountain Pen Show. Oh, he was subtle about it, and oh so fiendishly clever. He had offered to buy drinks, and mentioned he was going to the Pen Show. My immediate reaction was "People still write with them?!?!" and I laughed maniacally, having decided I would attend just to mock these folks as I whipped out my Bic and made snarky comments about them for wasting money on such an extravagance. And yet, in the back of my mind, memories dormant for decades, started the first faint movements of life; as images of grammar school, nuns, cartridges, Sheaffer's and Wearevers suddenly surfaced.

Then when we met Brian, he did a very evil thing! He took a huge pen collection and let me write with some of his pens. I don't remember exactly what pens they were, but I do remember the immense satisfaction and joy received from the glistening ink on paper, from the shading, the depth, the variations in line thickness. No longer was the written word limited to glowing characters on a screen, or to the flat soul-less creations of the ubiquitous ballpoint, an instrument no conceived alongside the 5 blade razors in the depths of Mordor. Words were no longer just transcribed on paper, but now took on a life of their own - conveying not just the personality of the author, but also their very intent by an appearance made unique by variances in thickness, and line shading.

Then, I remembered. I remembered how much I actually enjoyed those old cartridge fountain pens; how I enjoyed writing and the art of putting pen to paper. By the time I had left the show, I was the proud owner of no less then three Fountain Pens, a bottle of ink and a dozen cartridges.

[the_edski]

Bump. Nobody else wants to share?

[plpenn]

Ill toss something up tonight or in the morning.

[AndreasDK]

Too often we let everyday life get in the way of the important things in life.
Gratitude for the small things and blessings get run over by worries about losing ones job, we succumb into greed and forget we each have the power to speak life as well as death upon those around us.

Let`s change this!

We can be the kind of people we each dream of if only we dare commit ourselves to saying out loud that today is the day we make the change.
Compromise is defeat in this regard!

DARE TO BE THE PERSON YOU DREAM OF!

Pen: Lamy Safari fine nib / Lamy blue ink
Paper: Cheap recycled A4

[Vlad]

I'm working on something...need me some ink!

[hugh4]

Too often we let everyday life get in the way of the important things in life.
Gratitude for the small things and blessings get run over by worries about losing ones job, we succumb into greed and forget we each have the power to speak life as well as death upon those around us.

Let`s change this!

We can be the kind of people we each dream of if only we dare commit ourselves to saying out loud that today is the day we make the change.
Compromise is defeat in this regard!

DARE TO BE THE PERSON YOU DREAM OF!

Pen: Lamy Safari fine nib / Lamy blue ink
Paper: Cheap recycled A4

Very nice, Andreas!

[ouch]

I'll throw in a free autograph.

[plpenn]

I could tell as I drove up to the main gate there was something strange hanging in the air. I checked my cell phone and I was on time, 23:45, heck I'm early today! I couldn't explain it but I knew something was off. Vernon was manning the gate tonight and recognized my old diesel coming up the drive and opened the first gate for me just before I got there, as I pulled through the gate and stopped so it could be closed and the other end of the Sally port could be opened I hollered "What's new Boss?" Vern responded with "Just another day in paradise, we went on lockdown 38 hours ago" As the far gate began to open I laughed and said " I knew something was up, things seemed too calm around here, you know I have been here way to long!"

I found my parking spot and limped on into a maze of locked doors, reinforced glass and almost sickening florescent lights to the break room to put my frozen meal in the icebox. As I walked through the halls the scent of coffee mixed with dirty mop water and gym socks kicked me in the face, I just got here why is this place already getting to me? Man it's going to be a long night. I have been working the night shift with these felons for the last three years. I recently got my degree and my wife has been begging me to find a day job but I need about six more months before I can finish the teaching certification program I am in so right now I need to be a man and stop complaining, heck at least I have a job.

00:12 I leave the office and make my first bed check, "Calvin, how many we got?" I yelled to my partner. Calvin is a nice enough guy, about as dumb as a box of rocks but most of the time he is in a good mood and besides being slow he really doesn't give me much of a hard time. "Weeelllll, I believe we have 67 males tonight and 36 females." and with that I am out the door.
We are a coed facility, kind of a cross between a maximum security prison and a detox center. More often than not there is some sort of craziness going on. I make it down the first hall and all is good, turn the corner to the east hall then it's into room 24 when all of the sudden I see something move in the shadow and POW! I catch a bed rail right across the bridge of my nose.

This was written with a Hero 616 filled with 5'Oclock Shadow.

[the_edski]

Count me out of the running. I had a brain fart and ordered some BBB from WCS the other day, I for some odd reason thought this challenge was offering 5 O'Clock Shadow... I need to start getting more sleep! Glad to share my story nonetheless.

[DunEdinRanger]

Count me out of the running. I had a brain fart and ordered some BBB from WCS the other day, I for some odd reason thought this challenge was offering 5 O'Clock Shadow... I need to start getting more sleep! Glad to share my story nonetheless.

Please reconsider... Ink is like good pitching in baseball. You can never have enough.

[the_edski]

Its not that I don't want more of it...it's that I would rather if someone else doesn't have a bottle of it, that it would go to them first! I will leave it up to Orchestrion to decide whether to count me in or not.

Please reconsider... Ink is like good pitching in baseball. You can never have enough.

[DunEdinRanger]

Its not that I don't want more of it...it's that I would rather if someone else doesn't have a bottle of it, that it would go to them first! I will leave it up to Orchestrion to decide whether to count me in or not.

Here's my thinking, and I already have BBB -I will gift it to someone who is just starting out with Fountain Pens.

[the_edski]

No one else wants to share some writing?