The Bar on the corner of every regionBoard

North-West Commland wrote:

something other that e
congrats!

what?

Definitely Toby wrote:

Wheat

[Yeets 🍉's at quoted ]
[Bird chirps of laughter and amusement]

Thick-Billed Longspur wrote:

[Yeets 🍉's at quoted ]
[Bird chirps of laughter and amusement]

Ah!
ducks and gets covered in watermelon

loses balance as adrenaline builds up

A Tarantula wrote:

From the register a glittering of eyes gaze upon the customer.

--. --- --- -.. . -. --- ..- --. .... - --- .--. .- -.-- ..-. --- .-. .. .-- --- -. -.. . .-.
Watches for payment.

So now you work at the bar, huh.

wipes off watermelon juice

.. .- -- .-- .- - -.-. .... .. -. --. -.-- --- ..-

A Tarantula wrote:

[Smiles approvingly ]

A Tarantula wrote:

Stares.

stares back while climbing the walls

A Tarantula wrote:

Stares more efficiently due to a lack of eyelids and tracks the creatures movements.

doesn't know whether to keep climbing or to stop

You win this staring contest....

For now...

You dumb tarantula

sits on an empty shelf, wondering why it was empty in the first place

Zany Zanes wrote:

Hums along.

Oh, admit it. You have several of the outfits in your closet right this minute.

Neutrality Foundation wrote:

Peers into the Jungle Room.
Oh right, is that where we put the unicorns too? Doesn't seem like a good mix. Or do we have an Enchanted Forest Room too?

We do indeed have an Enchanted Forest Room. It's also known as the main restroom. Of course, the enchanted trees are really overgrown mold, but that still qualifies as plant life, right?

Brocklandia wrote:

Well, I'm hot and steamy, so I do make other people's hair frizz.

So is pizza.

Pizza is nice. I want pizza. I gots no monies on me.

Oh well

Zany Zanes wrote:

Tips a particularly sparkly hat.

Maybe.

I imagine it as purple or blue

Zombie Penguins wrote:

The weekend poetry contest is over. Brocklandia will choose a winner.

*Ahem!* Attention, everyone. Is this microphone on? Testing, testing?

Listen up. Whether you like it or not, I'm about to announce the winners of the Poetry Contest. Now would be a good time to run screaming for shelter in the restroom if you don't want to hear a rehash of the sick filth that got submitted.

So, no one ever wants to win First Place, mostly because it comes with the curse of having to judge the next contest and everyone here too lazy and conflict-avoiding, right? So let's get it out of the way, like ripping off a bandage. Our First Place winner is ... Uh, where'd I put that envelope? Ah, here it is. First Place and the horror ... er, honor of judging goes to somebody named Definitely Toby, who submitted multiple entries, but especially this one that captures the unrelenting angst of a generation unmoored from social etiquette and lost in their primal ennui. Yay, Toby!

First Place, DeFiNiTeLy ToBy

Ow god I got hit with a frozen burrito and I'm in pain...
I need a body guard dang..
So weak I'm basically asking to be attacked.
Nowhere is safe.

And now, Second Place. I'm feeling generous today, so I'm pleased to announce I'm not cursing anyone with Second. That's right--in a Bar first, no one won Second Place. You may all thank me later.

Second Place, No one

(crickets chirping)

Moving right along to the much-coveted Third Place. Like I said, I'm feeling generous as well as judgmental, so I hearby declare a multi-way tie in which everyone else won Third Place! Yay, Zany Zanes, Nekojin, Brocklandia, The Peanut Feast, and everyone else!

Third Place, Zany Zanes

The Moon's Guest

I deign to eat with the moon tonight,
For her appetite knows no bounds.
She'll eat and eat and eat and eat,
'Til her body blooms and rounds.

There's never much left for me these nights,
I'm so hungry you cannot fathom.
She ate it all, left none for me,
The gapped, awing chasm.

Suddenly I realize,
I might just have the fix.
A little piece, just here and there,
I'll make a nice eclipse.

Third Place, Nekojin

Here's a poem:

There are biscuits
And Triscuits
But what
May I ask
Happened to the singular 'scuit'?
How did we forget it?
I fall
vacant
In the evening
I wake
bitter
In my bed.
I try vainly
To conceive how we fail in so many ways
And never know it.
How would one even call the singular scuit?
Monoscuit?
Uniscuit?
And what would it be?
Creating plurals with no base
Leaves them entirely unconnected
Concepts linked by nothing but the letters in their name
One must first define the foundation
Lest its variants become alien

Third Place, Brocklandia

So what if I didn't submit a poem? Thanks to judge's prerogative, I still give myself Third and you can't stop me. Bwa-hahahaHAHA.

Third Place, The Peanut Feast

Putin getting mad
Have we waited too long?
ICBM’s

Thanks and congratulations to all our winners! Yaaay!