Christmas Contest 2015

Discussion in 'Contests' started by CJ Mason, Dec 4, 2015.

Vote for your favorite entry

  1. Entry 1

  2. Entry 2

  3. Entry 3

  4. Entry 4

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  1. CJ Mason

    CJ Mason Batman

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    It is December, and what else could that mean than a new contest? In the holiday spirit we bring you a Christmas contest ... an ugly sweater contest!

    The guidelines are as follows:

    Write something, that describes an ugly sweater.
    How does it look, feel, smell, taste or sound like?
    The style is free: you can write a short story with a exiting plot line, or just a scene that could be from anywhere. You can write a poem or an Ode to the Christmas Sweater. It's up to you how you decide to approach the subject, or how much/what you tell about the sweater.​


    - There will be no word limit, but try not to make it too long
    - There will be no more than one post per person
    - Entries will be accepted until 20th December 11:59PM GMT (6:59PM EST) and are to be PMed to Catcher.
    - Entries will be shown on thread as anonymous (no user name will be added).
    - Voting via poll begins 21st December and votings close at 28th December GMT.
    - In addition to fame and eternal glory, the contest winner receives an unique Christmas medal to show off on his/her profile.
    Good luck!
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 21, 2015
    6 people like this.
  2. CJ Mason

    CJ Mason Batman

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    uncomfortable and

    always heinously ugly

    ever made with love

    Christmas...She hated Christmas. It was like him being around again, everything from the decorations, to even the cheesy ' First holiday together' photos. For fuck sake, even the stupid 'ugly' Christmas sweater brought him back into her mind...She couldn't resit bring the slightly itchy, yet soft woolly material to her body. The ugly deer and tree lined sweater was warm, like his hugs. Gripping it tightly the smell of him filled her nose despite the ugly festive ware being in a box all year. After nine months she still missed him. The dam bastard leaving her behind with her feelings. With out much thought she slipped the sweater on, holding herself with in the fabric. It felt familiar on her skin, like a home you didn't want to admit you missed. Sighing softly she paused from un-boxing her Christmas gear. With in moments of leaving the living room she felt tears rolled down her cheeks. Letting the tears fall, the young women started making some hot chocolate. Once the coco was done she found herself siting on the kitchen floor sipping at the drink. The sleeves of her husbands ugly sweater cupped around the mug. " Who knows... maybe with your ugly dam sweater you will be here for one more year..." Even though the sweater was slightly itchy and dust it felt like him. It felt like home, if only he didn't die on her. Then they could have ugly sweaters together.

    It was another Christmas card. On the front of the card were two reindeer, both wearing harnesses covered in bells (jingle bells, one would presume) and decorating a small cedar tree in a clearing surrounded by mature trees. Emblazoned in gold foil near the top of the card was the message “Happy Holidays”; Jeff’s father was always sensitive to his desire not to involve the Baby Jesus in this holiday. His father was also fond of scavenging the local pharmacy for the schmaltziest greeting card possible.

    He scratched his chest, the rough wool yarn of the novelty sweater his mother had knitted for him five Christmases ago poking through the light fabric of his undershirt. Carrying the card with him from the hallway to the kitchen, Jeff opened the refrigerator and pulled out a tallboy of malt liquor. He cracked open the can as he flipped open the card to read the personal message his father had written on the inside.

    “Jeffery,” So formal, his father. “We hope this card finds you well. Mom wants to know that you’re still alive. You need to call her, son. She misses you dearly. Little Abigail is starting her first year of junior high school, can you believe it? The Klausners next door, you remember them don’t you? Well, they roped your mother and I into Wednesday bridge and so far we’ve lost $5.80 and a few bottles of pinot grigio — “We’ll get them next time!” your mother says. Please call soon, Jeffery. We’d like to see you next December. Dad.”

    Jeff left the card on the counter as he took his drink with him into the living room. He settled into the used recliner he had purchased at the secondhand store. He didn’t bother with the television. Too much reality television sandwiched between A Christmas Story and Scrooged. The main lights weren’t even turned on in his apartment, just a long string of decorative lights that bathed the room in greens and reds. Jeff could hear the buzzing of the small bulbs as he nursed his tallboy.

    A drop of alcohol fell onto his sweater but he didn’t bother to wipe it away. He would let the sweater absorb it as it had absorbed the other spilled drinks, the sesame sauce from the Chinese takeout joint down the street, and the odor of stale cigarette smoke. His mom would have berated him for his poor laundering skills. Jeff was sure that he had heard that one wasn’t supposed to just throw a wool sweater into the washing machine. Like hell he was going to hang this ugly mess out on his fire escape in the middle of winter, though. The pigeons that liked to roost on the floor above his apartment weren’t exactly the most considerate beasts in the city.

    The malt liquor had managed to fall directly on the bright red puffball that made up Rudolph’s nose. His mother had crafted the face of the young reindeer out of felt and hot glue, choosing the folksiest way possible to decorate an otherwise fine piece of clothing. She used to call Jeff her little Rudolph. She knew there was something special inside of her young son that would some day outshine all of his peers. It was for the best that she wasn’t spending the holidays with her son in his squalid studio apartment.

    Polishing off the last of his drink, Jeff left the can on the coffee table as he walked into the kitchen and snatched up the card. He gently traced over “Happy Holidays” as he brought the card back into the living room. He laid the card on top of the pile of cards from his friends. Everyone was growing up; everyone but Jeff that is. For every card that boasted about home ownership or starting a family or getting engaged, Jeff could find five of his own faults and shortcomings. On the bright side, he saved countless dollars on holiday greeting cards.

    The recliner groaned as Jeff flopped back into its worn cushions. He took Rudolph’s puffy red nose between his fingers and stared down at the grinning face of the reindeer. He couldn’t smell the malt liquor anymore, although he swore there was a new smell that had added itself to the palette he was crafting. It was a sour, metallic note that rose above every other scent. Jeff could only imagine that this was the smell of fear — animalic yet unnatural all at once. The alcohol had finally started to take hold of Jeff, cradling him as he began to slip away into a midday nap, stinking of fear, reeking of anxieties. He fell asleep to the buzz of his Christmas lights and the faraway laughter of children and couples strolling through the snow.

    The sweater is gross,
    Even though it's lost
    I don't know if I can pause
    Due to it's fabric loss
    I don't know if it sounds lame
    I wouldn't mind if it'll bring me fame
    The itchy feeling
    The tight feeling
    I wish I could get a healing
    But I guess the feeling is worst than failing
    The thick thread is mocking
    I hope i'll forgot the feeling
    Of the stupid skin-sweater leaning.
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 20, 2015
    4 people like this.
  3. CJ Mason

    CJ Mason Batman

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    Voting is over guys!

    The winner by votes goes to Entries 3 and 4, but as the contestant number 4 is no longer a member, we are happy to crown @SpentGladiator as the winner of this contest! Congrats!
    Last edited by a moderator: Jan 1, 2016
    4 people like this.
  4. Cecilia_Agnarsson

    Cecilia_Agnarsson Wolf Princess Administrator Moderator

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    Twilight Town
    1 person likes this.
  5. mwiko

    mwiko (。ヘ°)

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    Retail slave.
    1 person likes this.
  6. SpentGladiator

    SpentGladiator Never Die, Never Die

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    Parts Unknown
    Awww :giggle: Thanks, y'all!

    @Cecilia_Agnarsson, my yìyì always told me that I was born under a lot of lucky numbers :laugh:

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