Anybody up to a challenge?
>shrugs< I was bored, reading a short and very random fic I wrote, when I thought this up. My beautiful fanfic challenge. Pfft, right.
Okay, the rules:
1-It must be 500 words or less
2-It must be In first person
3-It must be no higher than a PG-13 rating
4-It must use the sentence, "How can I be second rate to a bunch of cardboard?"
5-It must have all four of the crimefighters there(Bruce/Bats, Babs/Batgirl, Tim/Robin, & Dick/Nightwing)
6-IT MUST BE FUNNY!
You have until 7/27. Whoever wins the contest...hm...gets my gratitude for making me laugh so hard. But, I'll think of something more worthwhile. At least, a little more worthwhile. Here, I'll post mine as an example fic(and DON'T COPY!):
"Get me out of here *NOW*!"
I smile. I can't help it. "Nice to see you too, Bruce."
"I don't believe this," he mutters, crossing his arms. "It's only a broken leg! I have crutches! Let me out!" He's pleading like he's on Death Row or something. I can't hold it in any longer. I bust out laughing, with Tim, and Barbara following suit. His face is aghast. "What?!"
I clear my throat, trying to stop laughing. "Y'know Bruce, you're pretty funny when you're laid up."
"Yeah, come closer and tell me that."
I shake my head, waggling a finger. "Uh-uh, Bruce. I'm not *that* stupid."
He arches an eyebrow sardonically. Uh-oh, smartass comment on deck. "Really? I would've never noticed."
"You *should've*. If I'm not mistaken *you* taught me everything I knew!" Tim and Barbara chuckle as his face pales. I grin. "You can't beat me, Bruce. I am the Grand Master of comebacks." He merely shakes his head. "See? My point exactly." He looks almost as if he wants to stick his tongue out at me. I flash him my cheeziest grin. I see it. That spark of mischief in his eyes, and I honestly think he's about to when I pipe up. "Ah, I've taught you well, grasshopper."
"Don't you have somewhere to be, brat?"
I shake my head happily. "Nope. I'm stuck with you all day."
He rolls his eyes. "Oh, great."
I give him my best 1000-watt grin. "Hey, at least you'll be in good company."
He nods slowly. "You're right. The ceiling tiles are often a welcome distraction."
"*HEY*! How can I be second rate to a bunch of cardboard?" I'm hurt. I'm really hurt.
"They're more quiet," he replies.
"Yeah, I guess. Stone, wood, they go together."
"And damn proud!"
(By the way, this is totally unofficial. Nobody except for me is to blame for this, so don't go screaming to the WF head honcho's, okay? Thanks.)