Assignment for Week Four: Limericize!

Please condense an existing song lyric down to a limerick. The title of your post should be the name of the song and the artist who popularized it. To avoid confusion, here's an example:

Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie

There once was a spaceman from Mars,
Who was known for playing guitars.
Though his fans were quite crass,
'Bout his god-given ass;
His band never got out of the bars.

Except yours should be better. The challenge here is to try to summarize the whole lyric while maintaining that crystalline limerickal brevity. Also, it's none of my business how long you want to stay on my island, but I suspect you'll get more votes if you pick a song with which your audience is likely to be familiar.

(Yes, this assignment features New Advanced Easiness™ for your Rosh Hashanah-affected week!)

Entries for Week Three

Our castaways were asked to fill in the giant blank between two sentences. Sorry for the tardy posting, but someone asked me to wait a few extra minutes for his entry, I fell asleep in my office, and when I woke up it was five hours later. Screw you, tardy entrant. I believe that will be the title of my first CD.

Since we've got folks playing on other continents, I'll keep the voting open as long as we need to to get everyone's input. This is the last week that we're ranking entries per Rule #6. Three of you get gone tonight.

Charles Darwin:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad.

If only we had known the aliens would have succumb to repeated playbacks of Ashlee Simpson's 'La La', I wouldn't be standing here in the queue waiting to be probed yet again.

I was President of the United States when the Overlords landed. I had no choice but to surrender to their superior weaponry.

We knew there had been a drop off in UFO activity during the Bush 43 administration. No one ever bothered to investigate why.

Turns out they had a team observing us in those days. After monitoring the broadcasts of Simpson's performance at the 2005 Orange Bowl, the team died of extreme noise poisoning.

The Overlords, in their anger, sent the Probe Teams. Now, humanity must submit to multiple anal probe sessions for a period of years as punishment for the destruction of their brethren. They aren't studying us. They already know all the human biology they need. They just know we don't like anal probes.

If only we had known they were coming, and that the voice of Ashlee Simpson would have wiped them out. We could have saturated our airwaves with 'La La' until there wouldn't have been enough Overlords left to probe a field mouse.

Sometimes, ignorance isn't bliss.

René Descartes:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad. I cannot point to a single moment where everything good turned awful. It was a slow, cooking the frog by placing it in cold water and turning on the heat thing. I fear it was not knowing what the staff was doing during the downtime that set this ball in motion. It was leaving others in charge just once too often. Trusting Meghan with the Bavarian cream sealed our fate - trusting her too freely, and giving her a little too much rope.

Well she took the rope, they tied each other up, and did things in the back room that you can't show on HBO. I would give any amount of cash to have known about it then - before the board of health stopped by and shut down the bakery.

Sometimes, ignorance isn't bliss.

Archimedes:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad. To be honest, I hadn't noticed the pile of nuclear waste and human bodies mounded up in front of the reactor. I just went about my day, pulled the plutonium from the bombs and set it in the targeting chamber to be annihilated. Between me and the rest of the NIF engineers, no one really paid any attention to the dwindling number of protesters. We figured that they got bored making no progress stopping the $1.2 billion laser from being built. It made my commute easier without those unpatriotic infidels blocking the entrance to the facility, so I didn't much care one way or the other.

The day the FBI showed up to question the mound of "dirt" in front of the reactor, the lead engineer shrugged it off and pointed the finger at the construction foreman. The finger-pointing game made its way full circle until it was pointing at me. Me? What part did I have in this? I was simply told to load the plutonium into the chamber to test if the weapons stockpile still worked. After we determined that the batch was good, I disposed of the fused particles out the window that overlooked the entrance to the facility. What could possibly have gone wrong?

From the view of my 4x8 cell, I can now say that sometimes ignorance isn't bliss.

Marie Curie:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad. Maybe it started when the dishwasher broke a few months ago. Which was just before my wife started "going out of town" a lot and our 8-year-old son went back to wetting the bed. I tried to fix the dishwasher, and that's when I screwed up the plumbing under the sink. A week or so after that, the water heater quit working, so I had to have that replaced. And then we discovered a termite problem. Exasperated, I asked my wife, "What's going to break next?" That's when she told me that she'd been fucking my best friend for two years. And the guy who came to install the water heater while I was at work.

Three days ago, my wife took off in our one good car. She's going to live with her parents for a while. Yesterday, I set fire to the house. My son and I are living in an Econo Lodge outside of town. We're going to get by on money I'd set aside for his college education. But things are starting to look up.

Sure, maybe it's better not knowing but, sometimes, ignorance isn't bliss.

Nikola Tesla:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad.

I suppose the problems really started when we kept waking up with extra sheets on the bed, tangled round our limbs, scrunched against our necks, pressing against our chests and backs.

Myself and Arlene blamed each other, the kids, even the dog. Then the throws started sliding off the couches, slithering around our ankles. I thought it was the new fabric softener making them so smooth the knap wasn't catching against the upholstery...but we were wrong.

It was the webcam that solved it, Arlene suspected me of messing with the au pair and left it running. We found it had recorded Benji being humped by a foot-stool. I'm yet to see a sadder sight than a spaniel being raped a pouffe, people.

It all made sense, our soft furnishings had been molesting us without our knowledge, the kids were finding tassles in their underwear, Arlene was forever plucking buttons from her cleavage.

All it took was a little call to a vigilante upholsterer to fix it, we bought 38 heavy duty plastic slip covers. Nothing kills the moment like being wrapped in plastic, right fellers? Heheheh.

And it never would've happened if my wife wasn't trying to spy on me.

Sometimes ignorance isn't bliss.

Niels Bohr:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad.

It wasn't that we didn't know. We knew. We watched my brother slowly grow from a chubby kid to the half-ton man wedged into his couch appearing on Maury, then Montel, then Sally Jessie, then Tempest, right before she went off the air. He's became an anti-hero. People championed his misery, championed his alien form, put him on T-shirts and laughed about the fat man who once ate twenty Big Macs at one sitting.

They didn't see, of course, the way he couldn't show emotion because even a smile could bring a heart attack. The doctor told him not to watch television at all for fear that a sitcom might actually cause him to laugh or a drama make him cry or a football game make his heart race at watching people who could actually move and leap and heroically save the day. So he stared at the ceiling and told himself stories about when he was a child. The same stories over and over about winning a race or pulling a wagon down the long street we lived on, where it dead-ended at a ditch that we explored every afternoon.

I wanted to hack off the folds with a knife and pull him up from his stupor. It came to a point where I just stopped calling my mother so I wouldn't have to hear about how much weight he had gained our lost. I didn't know he had died until five days later, after returning from a vacation. That was the first vacation I'd enjoyed in years. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Max Planck:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad. Who knew that giving our twin teenage daughters their own cell phones and credit cards was a bad idea? I mean, they were going off to college! We felt safer knowing that they could contact us wherever they were. Sure, it seemed like they never answered the phone when we called them, but we believed them when they said they were in the library studying. And how can you put a minute limit on calls to one's parents? Of course we found out later that calls to Rio during peak hours were what made the phone bill astronomical. When Jessica said that she met a nice young man, I assumed she meant a boy that attended her university, not a 28 year-old bartender who was in town for a month but who wanted to stay in touch.

Sarah insisted that everyone who lived in the dorm had their own microwave, cube refrigerator, TV, DVD player, and laptop. She said that she heard a girl died last year of meningitis caught from germs from used appliances. Who wants their daughter to catch some dread disease?

By the time the bills started coming in and we started putting two and two together, the girls had decided to leave school and get some "life experience". They got their life experience, all right. Almost life behind bars, that is. Jessica's boyfriend got into a bar fight and stabbed someone "accidentally". Jessica drove the getaway car, and was convicted as an accomplice.

Sarah was arrested for shoplifting and is now doing community service scrubbing toilets at rest areas along the Mass Pike. We wish we knew then what we know now. Sometimes, ignorance isn't bliss.

Isaac Newton:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad. Like you, just now. Where are your manners? Mind your own business. Let what get so bad? What are you talking about? . Well praise Jesus, we are saved from ourselves. Thank you, Lord, for sending this child to learn us about living. Enough of your nonsense. We're fine. The house if fine. Everybody is fine. We can take care of ourselves. The State surely has a better use for its money than this. Now, go. Get off my steps and don't come back here. Willy, can you imagine this ignorant child knocking on our door to tell us how to go about our lives. Ignorance truly must be bliss. I don't how she'd have the gall otherwise. Sometimes, child, ignorance isn't bliss. It surely isn't bliss when you come knocking on my door.

Johannes Kepler:

People always ask me how we let it get so bad. "Bad?" I say. "What 'bad'?" We just woke up, is all! We just decided to take our LIVES BACK, is all! Before I was working here I was working the European fashion circuit, grueling. I mean, walking? Sometimes for like, a really long time at a time? Oh, and the lights, my god! Imagine you're wearing this ankle-length albino silk-milled fur, and one guy's working on angling the contours of your left cheekbone and some other guy's struggling to plump the base of your lower lip and those lights are just...shining! Down on you! Forget that you're only wearing black satin and 14-karat gold-threaded La Perla underneath... that shit is hot. And humans-- yes! Yes, I'm a human! -- have the right to have their cheekbone contours angled in comfortable temperatures, with or WITHOUT a Diet Coke! I know I sound like I've always known that I was entitled to the same rights as any other devastatingly breathtaking woman-child who wears a miraculous size 1 in Prada (no, not a 3 as reported by the fat whores at "US Weekly") but if it hadn't been for Dr. Trent, I probably would have been victimized forever by those French and Portuguese and Finnish assholes with their super-watt bulbs and Diet Not-Coke and their not-very-cushiony stools. I thank god every day that I stumbled onto Dr. Trent's book "American Modeling: Why It's Way Easier Than European Modeling"... if I hadn't started flipping through it absently during those mandated hair extensions I never would have been able to spread his message. I mean, seriously. Any
used-to-be-all-lighted-up-and-shit-European-but-now-totally less lighted-up-and-properly-Diet-Coked-Up American model will tell you. Sometimes, ignorance isn't bliss.

Week Three Assignment: The Dreaded A to B

First sentence: "People always ask me how we let it get so bad."

Last sentence: "Sometimes, ignorance isn't bliss."

Put fewer than 251 words in the middle. Make it entertaining. Remember that "entertaining" doesn't necessarily mean "funny." As we're repeatedly reminded here, comedy is hard to do well, and failed comedy is painful. I'm not saying "don't go for laughs," but if you do, make sure you get them. If you don't have a great comedic idea, try going for a different emotional impact. There are several emotions available. Apparently.

Also, please remember that in order to receive votes that will help you escape my isle of woe, you need to both submit an entry AND vote for the entries of others. This is the last week where we'll rank entries. Three people will escape this week. Due the agonizing twelves received by two of last week's leaders for not voting, the three spots are still pretty much up for grabs. Even if you're mathematically out of contention, you still might want to enter, simply to help get the stronger writers gone earlier. You want your strongest competition gone, so that it's easier for you to escape. The entry deadline is Wednesday at 11 p.m. The vote deadline is Thursday at 9 p.m. Both times US EST.

Entries for Week Two

Our castaways were asked to create a back cover blurb for their new imaginary novel. I'm not sure I'd be moved to take any of these home from my local book superduperstore, but hey, not everyone can come up with a DIRK PITT®. The shroud of double anonymity fog has fallen to foil any grade-grubbing game theorists we might have.

Enjoy!

Culture Club:

A crushing family tragedy.
A harrowing descent into hell.
A miraculous rise from the mire.

IN THE CIRCUS
After 50 years of gentle, loving humor, Bill Keane brings us the raw story of Billy all grown up. Rocked by the death of his father at his mother's hand, Billy joins the Keystone State Skinheads at 17 and begins his long descent into hell. Fired by anger and hate, Billy easily integrates into the band of hooligans. The savageness of his attacks on local undesirables soon earns him a national reputation in the Skinhead movement. A free lancer, Billy travels the country to lead local Skinhead chapters in brutal attacks on innocents. But this notoriety comes at a price. His family's home is firebombed. The charred corpse of his sister is discovered, but there is no sign of PJ. Convinced that he is alive, Billy begins a journey of discovery and redemption as he searches for his brother. And what of PJ? And what drove his mother to kill his father? These truths are more savage than the hooligans Billy once led.

"A surprising dose of reality from the master of the saccharine sentiment. A true picture of Pennsylvania's not so hidden underbelly. Mr. Keane's familiarity with this world is surprising. Mr. Keane's sympathetic portrayal of its inhabitants is concerning. A must read for all deprogrammers."
-Cult Awareness Monthly

Bananarama:

Twenty-five dollars.
Their parent's station wagon.
And a midnight run to dudeman's house...

ADOLESCENCE
Follow the journey of two crafty teenagers as they devise a foolproof plan to score some pot. From wearing pajamas over their street clothes to fake snoring to using the fire escape ladder to shimmy down the side of the house. Feel the suspense as the bathroom light comes on when they are pushing the car in neutral out of the driveway. See the brilliance of their master plan come to life in a one-shot-only triumph or failure. Hear the cries of laughter or the screams of defeat as the plan unfolds and the parental interference factor comes into play. When a dopesack is on the line, these kids will stop at nothing to achieve their one and only goal... an eighth of the sweet, sweet sheeva.

"Wow! An emotional thrill ride of half-baked plans and half-baked kids."
-Kelly Kapowski, Bayside Times.

"This book totally rocked!"
-Ashlee Simpson's lip-sync machine.

Kajagoogoo:

A gambling junket to the third world!
A love affair with a prostitute!
A Battle Royale for poontang!

ALL IN
Bored of constant Internet poker and masturbation in front of his home computer, painfully shy L.A. nerd Michael Davis buys a ticket to Costa Rica for sun, hookers, and live casino poker. Guided to a massage parlor by a knowing cabbie, Michael immediately falls for the first $40 whore he comes across. His mission to win next semester's tuition at the tables of San Juan falls by the wayside as he spends more and more time beguiled at the hands of the coppery Latina hooker. She too, finds herself enraptured by this pale, doughy specimen of gringo from El Norte. The two move in together, he wagering everything he has in Hold 'em tournaments, she cheering from the rail when she isn't smoking cock for buy-in money. It all seems so perfect; little do they suspect their tropical idyll is about to be smashed by a wrathful pimp. Michael will soon discover whether he is a real man or not, at the time of confrontation?. He is about to go 'All In'.

"A sprawling tale of greed, lust, and lubrication. Davis' adventure piques the imagination of Caucasian, pencil-necked geeks everywhere. He dares live on a level most of us only dream of. I laughed, I cried, I rubbed myself."
- Dave Winters, Des Moines News and Review

Dream Academy:

The countdown is on.
As the clock tickles down, lives hang in the balance.
Only minutes left and the existence of the very future is in jeopardy!

CONTEMPLATION over DINNER
As small dinner party in the east side quickly turns into a power struggle. Decisions that Jennifer and Jeff make will affect more than the lives of their guests - but possible everyone. From the author of the best selling "History of Ragtyme in G minor", this thriller will make you realize that pot-roast doesn't always mean "pot-roast" as our heroes have to think their way out of an international physics scandal. How they react to the truth they learn may decide the fate of the future!

"I loved it. I mean it was really swell. The way it was wrote. That whole tickling clock thing. I might read it again!"
- Singer Songwriter Kenny Rogers

Bjork:

A mysterious note.
A city in danger.
One man must save his family...and a lot of people in South Florida!

TARGET: MIAMI
Carl Sipowicz, a nuclear physicist, arrives home late from work to find his entire family missing. Except for the dog. Which has been killed. A mysterious note left in the house instructs him (not the dead dog) to fly to Miami and diffuse a bomb . . . or his family will be killed! Carl instead flies to Phoenix to consult his mistress. But she, too, is missing! He finds another note that instructs him to stop fucking around or everyone will be killed . . . not just his wife and kids and mistress, but everyone. In Miami! Will Carl finally pull his head out of his ass, or does he have another mistress to see? Really, how many mistresses can one nuclear physicist have, for Christ?s sake?

?A truly gripping thriller that will keep you guessing until the very last word on the very last page which, incidentally, is Page 361. If you like Dan Brown, you?ll love this (tripe)!? -- Daphne Schaal, Twin Mountain Evergreen Independent Republic Observer

Machines of Loving Grace:

The spotted hyena waits in the underbrush, jaws grinding, saliva flowing...
A small mountain zebra nuzzles her mother tenderly, innocent to the lurking danger, to the harsh ways of this cruel world...
One trip, one stumble, one hiccup, one mis-timed nap... and terror would strike.

Hunt Everlasting
-- the baited-breath sequel to "Stalking Indeterminately"-- finds us once again in the fascinating African underbrush. The tension slowly builds as the hyena continues to edge whole inches closer to his adorable prey. The mornings, the afternoons, the late afternoons, the early evenings, the regular evenings, the nights... all of it documented in vivid, suspenseful underbrush detail.

"A breathtaking account of life in the African tundra. If you thought "Stalking Indeterminately" was a page-turner, you
might not be able to handle "Hunt Everlasting"! You'll be up reading with a flashlight at night, just waiting for that little bastard to trip over a log or something." -- National Geographic

The Shamen:

"When I read the title, I went and got my Japanese/English dictionary..."
"I waited with bated breath."
"Could Fo' Shizzle Fo' Finish???"

GIRI GIRI
(At the Last Minute)
Giri giri is the story of Fo' Shizzle in Japanese. Now translated into English, Americans can have the pleasure of hearing the tales of Fo' Shizzle, a hot creative genius whose imagination knows no bounds. Assignments come week by week, and the reader never knows what tricks are up the Shiz's sleeves. Not knowing if Fo' is a man or a woman only heightens the readers' curiousity. Will Fo' Shizzle come in first or last? Follow the assignment to the letter? Finish before the deadline? Only Mr. Crunchy knows Fo' Sho.

"I read it from begining to end." -Fo' Shizzle's mom

Toad the Wet Sprocket:

The culmination of 10 minutes of boiling water
The heat and energy of 10 suns
They'd go to the ends of the earth for it

Mac and Cheese Death
Arlene was a wife and mother, sure, but first and foremost she was the lunchlady at Helena Bonhamm Carter Junior High. He was a oily-skinned lemonade addict with a penchant for drawing little cartoon superheros on the cover of his Trapper Keeper. It only took one fatele moment for their lives and skin to be fused together for eternity...

"If you only learn how to read a few thousand words, you should make sure you learn how to read the ones that make up the sentences of this novel." - Archie and Jughead Monthly

Siouxie & the Banshees:

A window shatters.
The stench of smoke and gunpowder.
A boy about to become...something.

Foetus Accompli
When a fire breaks out in Professor Hertz Van Hire's basement laboratory he has no choice but to flee, leaving behind his several barrels of propellants, gunpowder and his latest creation, still in it's jar.

Returning to the sodden, blackened timbers in the morning, the Professor is dismayed to find nothing remaining of his work but fragments of a demijohn, a puddle of amniotic fluid and a space on the wall, a space that used to hold two ivory handled flintlocks.

Wrapping his coat around his shoulders against the chill Soho wind, he steps out on a journey, grimly determined to return his quarry to captivity...whatever it becomes.

"I couldn't put it down...but that's because of the peculiarly adhesive secretions I produce from my hands when I read heartstoppingly chilling books" - Abe PitterPatterson, NY Times.

Season Five Special Characters Request

Once again, castaways, I beseech you to stop sending me characters that the Web doesn't like. If you are composing your entries in a word processor, turn off the Auto-Replace or Auto-Correct feature before you start typing. Alternatively, use a text editor (like Notepad) instead. I spent about half an hour last week delousing your entries of slanty quotes and graphical dashes and ellipses. As much as it pains me, I'm not doing it this week.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Assignment for Week Two: Paperbackcover Writer

OK, I'm not sure everyone grasped last week's assignment, so we're going to do another one from this category and see if we can all get up to speed. If you've ever picked up a book by Tom Clancy or John Grisham or any of the horde of similar popular thriller writers, you're familiar with the dreaded Back Cover Blurb. Here are some examples.

This week, make up a back cover blurb for an imaginary popular novel. Here's the format:

**********
A Sentence Fragment Describing Something Exciting.
Another Sentence Fragment Describing Something Else Exciting.
Yet a Third Sentence Fragment, Describing Perhaps the Most Exciting Thing.

The Title of your imaginary novel.

The text of the blurb.

A line from a review of the novel.
**********

Try to tiptoe on the line between parody and feasibility. Check the examples for, uh, examples. Don't go nuts on the length. It needs to fit on the back cover of a paperback. Good luck.

Entries for Week One

Wherein our castaways were asked to come up with a Star Wars-style opening crawl for a non-science-fiction movie.

Please get me your votes and snippy commentary by 9 p.m., US EST Thursday. NOTE: Per the new and exciting Rule #6, you're ranking all the entries by order of preference, not including your own. Assign a rank of one to the entry you like best, and on down the line to an eight for the entry you like least. Please assign each rank to only one entry. If you think you've discovered a tie, flip a coin or something. If you don't, I will.

La Chupacabra:

One man in his quest to combat the evil Alzheimer's disease inflicted upon his one true love will recapture the essence of what brought them together. He will recount the good times, the bad times, their lost love and love renewed. Her story, in his words, through hell or high water he would have her. This is the story of The Notebook...

Fo' Shizzle:

Way back in the seventies, at the University of Chicago in Illinois, a funny man and an emotional woman met each other and drove to New York City. Thus began a nitpicky, overly dramatic, sappy, often annoying yet strangely touching relationship that would last for decades. Their trysts would include friends swapping blind dates, bad hairstyles, a wagon wheel table, a New Year's Eve party, and an answer to the question: how do women fake orgasms?...

Burt Ward:

(scroll for the 1966 Movie "Batman: The Movie")
Starring me, duh.

If the city only knew
the forces of evil,
the most brilliant minds
of the day
lay in wait, with all the patience
of the Grand Canyon
Or those big trees in California

It is up to one man
and his youthful companion
they have battled before
but now, the odds are against them,
as Penguin, Riddler and Catwoman
Plot to Destroy
Gotham City and
The World...

Ron Mexico:

Episode 26: Matthew

THE PASSON OF THE CHRIST

It is a dark time for Jesus of Nazareth. Although he has been promised eternal life as the Son of God, Roman troops have driven his disciples from their hidden Supper and pursued them across the city of Jerusalem.

Evading the dreaded Jewish scholars, a group of radical farmers led by Peter has tracked Jesus' movements to a garden in the remote area of Gethsemane.

The evil traitor Judas, obsessed with finding young Jesus in exchange for 30 pieces of silver, has dispatched dozens of Roman troops into the Garden as well...

Ignignokt:

Young Lady Chatterly: Episode II

There is trouble at Chatterly Manor.

Young Cynthia, neglected by her often absent husband, must discover the root of her inner turmoil. Where once the servants, gardeners, and unsuspecting hitch-hikers provided helping hands (and such), she now needs a more direct frontal assault. Even the power of her aunt's secret diary cannot save her!

But little does she know that much-needed relief is on the horizon . . . in the form of a repressed professor . . .

Flibber Flabber Flangey Floo:

Two wayward souls, one beardy, one Welsh, flung together by circumstance and the fact that one of them looked the other one up...

Step forth, venture into the heist of the century. Their souls aquiver, they'll pull on latex ass suits and have a series of misunderstandings regarding public transport interjecting into their conversations...

Laser beams glint on the horizon, accents from countries you'll never visit abound.

They're baddies, but good baddies.

Ya know?

If all else fails, you'll know that you won't die having made this movie.

Be proud of that.

One day you'll narrow your eyes and say "I saw ...Entrapment"...

Charles and Ray Eames:

A couple of years ago in a neighborhood a few miles away there lived a kid who saw dead people.

Gozer the Gozerian:

Once in a great wild world... there is a love so true and so fierce that it cannot be stopped. A big-city blond bombshell... crackling with heat and life, her love at times crossing over into fury... meets a small-town idealist... afraid of this reckless love, afraid to let himself believe, but out to change the world. When plush and wire and felt come together in a heated passion that explodes, a city is left ransacked and stringless. One pig. One frog. One hot town...

-- The Muppets Take Manhattan.

Dobby:

Shhhhh, the movie's starting. What's with this crap? What's it say? Dude, that skeevy dude a gigilo? Get real. Getting paid to have sex, though. But that dude? I hope there's nudity. When's the movie gonna actually start, man. When did you say your mom's gonna pick us up?

Season Five, Assignment One: First, We Crawl

Ever since George Lucas copied the intro text concept from the Flash Gordon serials of the 30s in his famous Star Wars opening crawl, leaden background text has become the standard launch point for sci-fi movies, especially those of the post-apocalyptic variety. In Week One, our castaways are asked to come up with opening crawl text for an existing movie that does not already have it. Please do NOT choose a sci-fi movie. No more than 100 words. Make sure it would sound good read very seriously by a guy with a very deep voice, and don't forget the ellipsis at the end.

Good luck and Welcome to Reverse Survivor!

(Entries are due in my email by 11 p.m. EST, Wednesday, September 14. From now on, check the red text on the left for your next due date.)

Season Five will be starting any minute.