A peek at the REAL Thumbster

Cornfield Kids

I'm scum.

Here you are dropping by to read something new of mine and all I have to offer you is a copy of this contest entry email I sent to tolerable artist some time ago. (She used to go by the handle "tired artist", then "tolerable artist" and finally "tired artist" once again. That was before she left this site. I miss her.)

I remember her contest had three lists; one of various people, another of different settings and the third a list of actions. We picked something from each list to create our stories. I also liked how her contest didn't have any winners or losers.

I had forgotten I wrote this. It's lame, I know, but I'm not in the mood to write anything new right now. I'm also not sure how ethical it is of me to be reproducing an email...but then again...I did edit out all the kinky bits...and the email kinda helps to make sense of why I wrote such a lame story to begin with...and like I already said...I'm scum. Being scum entitles me to do scummy stuff just like this.











Wow! Thanks for thinking up this no winners or losers contest tolerable. (I apologize for referring to you as Tired before BTW. So you go by tolerable artist now huh? I'm pleased to see you're working your way up the "T" handle foodchain. Hang in there little trooper. Someday you may get to be Terrific Artist...with your very own capital letters too!)

I was thrilled to see your contest options tolerable. It's always been a fantasy of mine to write a tale about...

C. a couple of kids
G. a corn field
B. somebody just dropped something

Do I get to pick which kids and cornfield will be in my story or do I have to use your's?



















Hello? tolerable artist?



















Hello? I'm ready to start writing. I guess the kids and the cornfield are my problem huh? Ooooookay. I'll see what I can do then.





Some Cornfield Kid Memories


"Hey kids. Come over here for a sec." I said to yet another group of children as they passed by my parked car on their way to school.

"I don't wanna mister. My Mom doesn't like me to talk to strangers." One said before running off.

"Okay then...how about you instead?" I asked pointing to his young friend. "Would you like to be in my tolerable artist cornfield story little kiddie?"

"Me?" Replied the husky little fella with his left index finger stuck up his nose.

"No...Not you! I meant that booger-free kid beside you. No...Not him either. Yeah him! That's right. He's just the sort of good looking kid I want in my tolerable artist cornfield story." I enthusiastically said as I opened the rear passenger door for him to hop on in.

"Sorry mister. My Mom told me never to get into a car with a stranger."

"Crap! Okay then. How about you? Yeah you...The ugly kid. Wanna be in my cornfield story little guy?"

"Piss off!" Shouted the ugly snotty nose kid. "I'm telling my teacher on you!"

Oh great. Not again.

Hmmm. There was something very sinister about trying to coax children into a cornfield. I hope tolerable artist had given her contest entry options lots of thought beforehand. This was for a good cause afterall right? A no winners or loser writing contest is a worthy cause isn't it? What could be more wholesome than that? Still...I never realized getting kids into a cornfield would be this much trouble or feel this creepy.

I decided to rethink my plan. Perhaps I had been approaching this all wrong. Perhaps I was making this way harder than I needed to. If I couldn't get any kids to go to a cornfield with me, maybe I should drive to a cornfield and look for kids already there. So that's what I did.

Sure enough there was a group of cornfield kids at the very first cornfield outside of town I came to.

"Well that's more like it." I thought to myself. "I hope the rest of this story goes as easy as this."

I pulled my car off the road and approached the cornfield with a broad smile on my face.

"Well a big helloooooo there to all you various assorted cornfield kids." I shouted out as I made my way towards them.

"How-dee thar mis-tar man." Replied the tallest of the rather dirty but still adorable, cornfield children. "What brings ya ta our curn-feeld?"

"I'm here to make a couple of you very famous." I said bursting with pride.

"Fam-ous?" Questioned the tall...but now in this light...somewhat less adorable, cornfield kid.

"Yes famous. Beyond your wildest dreams. I'd like to feature a couple of you in a kids and cornfield story I'm entering in tolerable artist's A Night At the Improv contest."

"Con-tist?" Asked the tall cornfield kid.

"Yes again, my little, semi-literate cornfield friend." I replied.

"Con-tist?" Asked the tall cornfield kid once again.

"Yes...Con-test."

"What cans we wins in dat con-tist den mis-tar?" He asked me.

"Well technically there aren't any winners or losers. The first ten people do get 500 GPs each but I'd be writing the story for the fame, honour and glory, plus the satisfaction of submitting the best darn kids and cornfield story tolerable artist has ever read." I could tell by their puzzled expressions this kind of writing contest was totally alien to them.

"Con-tist?" Asked the tall cornfield kid again.

"Okay...Enough with this tall kid." I thought to myself. "This kid is bugging me. I gotta pick another cornfield child. Hopefully I can pick two of the cuter and smarter cornfiled kids here...two that won't keep asking me the same damn question over and over again."

"How about you?" I asked pointing to a loveable little red haired cornkid. "Would you like to be famous and be the envy of all your little cornfield friends?"

He shyly nodded as he reached out his little hand for mine.

"Very good then. And how about you Sweetie?" I asked a cute little cornfield girl of five or six. "Would you like to be in tolerable artist's story too?"

She meekly smiled and said, "A-huh.", before bowing her head and taking my other hand. The other cornfield kids then timidily started to approach me from among the cornstalks.

"Oh no. Sorry kids. tolerable artist only wants me to have a couple cornfield kids in her contest entry. You'll have to wait for another opportunity to be famous." I said...breaking two dozen little cornfield kid's hearts and dashing two dozen little cornfield kid's dreams. "If it was up to me I'd include you all in my story...but it's not up to me...it's up to tolerable artist and she only wants a couple of you. Sorry."

"So what's your name?" I asked the little cornfield boy as he clutched my hand tightly...but before he could answer me I suddenly realized tolerable artist didn't care what their names were. All she wanted was a couple of kids in a cornfield...with somebody dropping something. Only then would my contest entry be done.

"Nevermind." I said silencing him just as he was about to tell me.

"Hmmm." I thought. "The hardest part is over. I just need somebody to drop something."

"So...nameless little cornfield boy. Any ideas what we can drop?"

"Drop?" replied the nameless little cornfield boy.

"Yeah drop. As in to make something fall."

He reached into one of his dirty tattered pockets and pulled out a hardshelled beetle. "How about this?" He asked me as he let the bug tumble to the ground and scurry away.

"Hmmm. I dunno. That was an awfully small bug. I was kinda hoping for something with a little more oooomph. I never even heard the beetle hit the ground." I said disappointedly.

A gentle tug on my other hand told me the sweet 5 or 6 year old cornfield girl wanted my attention.

"Yes Sweetie? Do you have an idea about what we can drop?" I asked her as I smiled back into her great big dirty eyes.

"I gotta pee." She whispered.

"I see. You go pee then." I softly said while I looked around for another cute kid to replace her.

Just then a clever idea popped into my head. "Hey tall, dirty, semi-literate cornkid. How about jumping as high as you can and dropping to the ground for me?"

He did just that...but I still thought it was a rather lame way to end a tolerable artist contest entry.

"Okay then...how about all the cornfiled kids jumping up and falling down?" I asked.

"Hmmm. That was a bit better...but still not the oooomph I had in mind." I thought.

"Okay...how about we all throw some corncobs into the air and then jump up and fall all at the same time? And let's see if we can make a great big thumping noise when we land on our backs. Doesn't that sound like fun?" I asked them all.

Well we tried it...but it really wasn't the way I wanted this story to end. So I tried various other things...like a four level cornkid pyramid that came crashing down to earth when I pushed them over...and tipping over a tractor...and throwing chickens out of the second story barn window...but nothing felt quite right.

In the end I went away from that cornfield, having more than fulfilled all that tolerable artist had asked of me but wishing she had demanded more. Perhaps in the end I should have chosen another action for my cornfield kids to perform...like the assorted machines have begun buzzing and making other alarming noises...that could have been fun...but by then it was far too late. The cornfield kids were waaaay too involved in making things fall down...anything...like the all cornstalks in the cornfield, the fences and even the silo. Those cute and adorable cornkids turned out to be not so cute and adorable afterall. I even ended up having to walk home after they flipped over my car.

So there you have it. My tolerable artist A Night At the Improv entry. Do I get extra points coz it's a true story? Huh tolerable?

Do I?

Do I?


Do I?



(PS...I don't have a clue how many words are here. Does this mean I lose any extra points I may have got?)

Huh?


Do I?


Do I?


Do I?

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