Guest

Pronouns

Editing

Title

1

Amelia Armande

they/them

Joshua Crisp

The Bunny Beast

2

Joshua Crisp

he/him

Alex Lynch

Space Soup

3

Alex Lynch

Amelia Armande

Clogged

4

Fran Bushe

She/her

Tom McNally

Hot Girl Summer

5

Tom McNally

he/him

Fran Bushe

My Proventriculus Overflows with Love

Listener

Pronouns

Submission title

Prompt

1

Peachizashi

she/her

Complaining in the airplane

s02e06

2

Anonymous

?

The King of Crowds

s02e06

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: ‘strikebreaker'

The sword is driven hilt-deep into the pavement outside of Victoria tube station. The underground staff keep an honour guard. Only Mick Lynch can draw this blade. And he refuses.

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: ‘strikebreaker'

The scab pressed through the sweaty, toothy crowd. Chants of scum bounced off his skin. It was thickened with payment. All scabs know it won’t get better if you picket.

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: ‘strikebreaker'

He is often brought into jobs where people have definitely thought about going on strike and he has to wing it. Could he add Strikebreaker to his LinkedIn endorsements?

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: 'strikebreaker'

Just one toe over the line. Two toes, three toes, four, shouts of scab in her ears. She stood 8 hours of the strike, one foot on either side of the line, thoroughly indecisive.

Warm-up - 30 words or less, no title, prompt is: 'strikebreaker'

The executive order came in - all those currently not in work due to industrial action will be employed, involuntarily, in the public sector. The terms of that employment were severe.

Amelia Armande first draft

The Bunny Beast

The egglings were warned every year not to go into the woods during the vernal equinox. But every year a handful of juveniles would defy the elders and roll out under the trees to watch the moonrise.

Come dawn, one tent was empty. A trail of torn foil led deeper into the forest.

It was an awful sight. A giant cryptid - brown fur, beady eyes, long twitching ears. Holding the screaming chocolate egg, it stared at the onlookers and bit into the hollow head.

Word count: 84

Amelia, your editor is:  Alex Lynch

Alex Lynch’s edits

The egglings were warned every year not to venture into the woods during the vernal equinox. But every year a handful of juveniles would defy their sage elders and roll out under the trees to witness the moonrise.

Come dawn, one empty tent. A breadcrumb trail of torn foil led deeper into the forest.

What an awful sight. A giant cryptid - brown fur, beady jet-black eyes, long twitching stalks for ears - held aloft one shrieking chocolate egg. It stared at the onlookers as if finishing a magic trick and with a final flourish, sunk its teeth into the hollow head.

It is delightfully ridiculous, would like to keep that
At 84 words, space to play
Got to end of the thought
Can you expand the horror?

Word count: ??

Amelia Armande second draft

The Bunny Beast

The egglings are warned every year not to venture into the woods during the vernal equinox. But every year a handful of juveniles defy their elders and roll out under the trees to witness the moonrise.

Come dawn - one empty tent.

A sinister trail of torn foil leading deeper into the forest.

They can hear screaming.

In the shadows - brown fur, beady jet-black eyes, long twitching stalks for ears. It holds aloft one shrieking chocolate egg. It stares at the onlookers as if finishing a magic trick, and with a final flourish, sinks its teeth into the yielding, hollow head.

Word count: 100

Joshua Crisp FIRST DRAFT

Space Soup

“I remember back when there was good eating on a unicorn”

“You Never”

“Aye, back when gods mowed white lawns in blue skies, and couldn’t see stars at night.”

The two watched, in companionable silence while the beast’s skin bubbled and crackled. Firedark chains bound it to the exhaust of their ship, and the low fusion core pumped a dull red light which slacked the flesh and offal from the creature until its flayed skeleton hung charring against the bright expanse.

The younger man offered the first feed to his elder, but the older complained of his knees and bade him forwards. He adjusted his mask, lowered his lips to the molten liquefied cadaver, and drank.

Word count: 116

Joshua Crisp your editor is:  Amelia Armande

Great title! I agree that you can lose the conversation at the start - maybe give bits of it to the elder at the end for the reveal?

‘Firedark’ feels quite fantasy - I don’t mind it, but maybe find something with a more spaceship feel.

Also - I think flayed ‘skeleton’ doesn’t give us quite the ‘soupy’ visual you’re looking for. You want this to become molten and gelatinous, maybe shapeless, like a melted marshmallow or a blob of mercury just about holding onto the bones. But we need it to stay juicy.

I also side note worry for this guy’s lips on the molten cadaver - possibly you want to adjust your temperature adjectives somewhere. You could blend in more campfire cooking images, perhaps.

Word count: ??

Joshua Crisp SECOND DRAFT

Space Soup

Two travellers watched, in companionable silence while the beast’s skin bubbled and crackled. Charcoal-coated chains bound it to the exhaust of their ship, and the low fusion core pumped a dull red light which slacked the marshmallowed -flesh from the creature to pool and collect, smoking in the trough below, until only its blackened skeleton remained hanging. Cracked and charring against the bright expanse.

The younger traveller offered the first feed to her elder, who smiled, complained of his knees and bade the youth go ahead. Gratefully, she adjusted her mask, lowered her lips to the liquefied cadaver, and drank.

Word count: 100

Alex Lynch FIRST DRAFT

Clogged

Malcom always dreaded having to unblock the sink as he dug the plunger further and further into the steel venus fly-trap which was rapidly becoming less stainless. He struggled but remained focused and determined, trying hard not to become distracted by his push-me pull-you of his handy work. Finally, the crux of the crisis. The long arm of the kitchen law reached in and fished out the culprit. Coupled in Malcom’s hand was another hand. A severed hand. ‘Darling’ he called to his wife, “What did happen whilst I was away this weekend?” 

Word count: ??

Alex Lynch, your editor is: Joshua Crisp

Okay, you have a few lovely phrases here, and lots of waffle that can go.

venus-fly trap isn't clear enough but it's pretty. Separating stainless and steel is also nice

the push me-pull you sentence can just go.

long arm of the kitchen law is dope. Lean in to this. Coolest sentence. He's a detective. Wild West style. Gun and badge and plunger. He'll get the bad guy.

So, tidying and cutting we have:

The sink needed unblocking. It was a venus fly trap, made of steel but less than stainless. He dreaded it. But he was the man for the job. He drew his plunger and struggled. Focused. Determined. With a final plunge (AND A NOISE? SOME DESCRIPTOR) he reached the crux of the crisis. The long arm of the kitchen law reached into the darkness and fished out the culprit. The obstacle. The outlaw...

gives you stuff to play with :)

Word count: ??

Alex Lynch SECOND DRAFT

Clogged

The sink needed unblocking. It was a venus fly-trap made of steel but less than stainless. He dreaded it but the time had come and the call needed answering. He drew his plunger and struggled. Focused. Determined. With a final plunge - a whirring, a gurgling, and a crunch - he reached the crux of the crisis. The long arm of the kitchen law reached in and fished out the culprit. The obstacle. The outlaw. His eyes widened, his mouth agape, sweat daubing his ashen face. ‘Darling’ he called to his wife upstairs, “What did happen whilst I was away this weekend?”

Word count: 100

Fran Bushe FIRST DRAFT

Hot girl Summer

The villa was silent. She had polished off Maya, Clare and Lucy-Jay. She recognised the tattoos of Jaz’s perfectly formed bicep on top of the mound and Chaz’s night time retainer glistening by the pool. The producers were not going to step in, this was the most viewers the progamme had received in it’s ten years on television. Every house in the uk was fixated on this woman by the firepit, slowly roasting the remains of her fellows. Surely this meant that she had won, there was no one else left. She had left him until last, Craig,  for she had made him boyfriend and that was meant to mean something. His head would not be turned again.

Word count: 118

Fran Bushe, your editor is: Tom McNally

The producers were not going to step in.

She had polished off Maya before the first ad break. Jaz’’s tattoos peeked up on top of the mound and Chaz’s retainer glistened by the pool.,

This was the most viewers the programme had received in its entire run.

Every house in the UK watched this woman by the firepit, slowly roasting the remains of her vanquished contestants.

Twitter was sizzling too - had she won? She wouldn’t - not Craig too?

She had saved Craig for last. She had made him boyfriend and that was meant to mean something.

His head turned on the spit, like it had from her.

Word count: 107

Fran Bushe SECOND DRAFT

Hot Girl Summer

The producers were not going to step in.

She had polished off Maya before the first ad break. Jaz’s tattoos peeked from the top of the mound and Chaz’s retainer glistened by the pool.

This was the most viewers the programme had received in its entire run.

Every house in the UK watched this woman by the firepit, slowly roasting the remains of her vanquished contestants.

Had she won?

She had saved Craig for last. She had made him boyfriend and that was meant to mean something.

His head turned on the spit, like it had from her.

Word count: 98

Tom McNally FIRST DRAFT

Working title

The babies crave the meat. I dribble the paste into their silk crib and they do not waste a drop.

When they nuzzle up the meat I have given them, I think of killing some more. I want to go and kill right away, to bring back a belly of meat for the babies, but first I must wait for them to mop it up. They are slow sometimes!

It is love to kill. It is love to take the meat, to give it back. But the most love is when the babies return my love. When they glurp up the sweets from their own soft bodies.

I think of the sweets when I kill. Kill and sweets and meat and babies and love.

Word count: 124!

Tom McNally, your editor is: Fran Bushe

The sweet babies crave the meat. I cannot deny them. I dribble the paste into their silk crib. Soft. Slow. Tender.

I think of killing some more. I want to go and kill right away, to bring back a belly of meat for the babies, but first I must wait. They are slow sometimes!

My heart. My babies.

It is love to kill. It is love to take the meat. But the most love is when the babies return my love. When they glurp up the sweets from their own soft bodies. They look at me and I know.

More

Word count: 100

Tom McNally SECOND DRAFT

My Proventriculus Overflows with Love

The sweet babies crave the meat. I won’t deny them. I dribble the paste into their silk crib. Soft. Slow. Tender.

I think of killing some more. I want to go and kill right away, to bring back a belly of meat for the babies, but first I must wait. They are slow sometimes!

My heart. My babies.

It is love to kill. It is love to take the meat. But the most love is when the babies return my love. When they glurp up the syrup from their own soft bodies. They look at me and I know.

More.

Word count: 100