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08-10-06 | Iron Chef (1 Viewer)

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Senior Member
Literary Maneuvers: Iron Chef Edition

Opens: Now

Closes: Friday, September 1st

Judging Period: September 2nd through September 9th

Anyone who's ever watched Iron Chef knows that the show is quite possibly the most uninentionally funny show in the history of television. From the ditzy Japanese pop stars who "ooh" and "ahh" over the chefs when they choose leeks over green onions or almond over vanilla to the almost comedic deadpan serious manner the chefs perform their "battles" in. So for this maneuver, you will be charged with replicating the spirit of Iron Chef! But don't worry, you don't have to have ever watched the show to participate, just write your piece as if it came from Japan—this does not mean you have to make it in the form of a poor translation. It doesn't need to be a piece about a cooking show or battles between chefs or anything fancy like that, but it does need to incorporate one type of exotic or unusual food.

For this LM, both poetry and prose will be accepted, with a 500 word limit.

Your judges for this LM will be:

Oasis Writer
Savant Deviance

(if anyone else cares to judge, PM me before the judging period starts)


1) Your piece must be under 500 words

2) Your piece must have a title

3) Grammar and spelling count, so proofread before you post.

4) One entry per person.
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Ilan Bouchard

[ot]Not usually, but this one is just confusing.

Hodge, I think you need to clarify what you mean some more. Am I supposed to write this á la "All your base are belong to us," or something?[/ot]


Senior Member
[an]Wow ... I'm really scared about the reaction I'm going to get from this, hahahaha. It is really ridiculous. Anyway, I hope I did this right! If not, I'll delete it and try again.[/an]

Silly Man
I have foreign taste for man.
The best ones like escar got.
Food that some love first taste,
Or very hate at first go.

The most commitment, how ever,
Comes from men like drafty beer.
A love that is acquired taste,
After many many year.

My favorite kind of man –
One ho is always by my side,
In the morning, in the evening,
And always at the night.

Not playing with monsters in pocket,
Like my last husband, Paul.
Took all time playing,
But could no catch them all.

He always ignore me,
To play with silly card.
So I tell him to go,
And have screw with Charizard.


Senior Member
The Journey

A man with a fish walks in the garden of another man. He bows and makes the fish go free. To the another man he says:

”Neighbourgh-san, the skies have been good this year.”

To which the man replies:

”They have, sensei, indeed been. Had I grown rice would my wife be making porridge for the little one.”

”Have you not grown any rice? Man has to give even if he has nothing to give. Only then shall he receive even if he has nothing to receive.”

”One might say you speak as you do, sensei, for I have not seen you grow any rice but a fish.”

”The fish shall be the feast your wife will prepare for you, neighbourgh-san, as the fish is fresh like the rice is not. But only after you have proved your spirit shall you eat.”

”As the fish is alive I will listen and obey, sensei.”

The man who no longer has the fish in his hand raises his finger. He says:

”If I told you about a mountain and the riches it holds – as the plains surrounding it fail to hide its true nature from the eye of those who are weak in front of such prospects – would you follow me and take me in only to see that the riches have been taken and the world has been altered?”

”Is that what you ask me to do? For I can live no longer if my ways are such that put a shame on my family. The riches will always be in the mountain if the eye does not corrupt the mind.”

The fish has eyes that reflect the ocean. In it's mouth awaits the identity of its holder.

”I ask you no more. The roses in your garden are not food for the body but they nourish the mind. The fish is yours to take.”

”Sensei, take a rose if it does not make you see the thorns.”

The man leaves and picks up the rose. The fish has no poison except for that of its devourer.


Senior Member
Soliloquy by Komura-sama(The Metroid Speech)

[ot]Yeah, I know... There's no exotic food in this one. I thought to myself: "Hell with it!" and came up with this. Take off five points if you must, just know: I WILL beat Fantasy of You.[/b](Or at least, that's my goal. If he participates. ehehe.. enough chatter.[/ot]

Soliloquy by Komura-Sama(The Metroid Speech)
Edwin Ramses

There be times in everyone life that discover they do something. For me, I discover Metroid. Ahh… It been long year that one, where I spend forty days and nights working the dog. Like one? I not sure. Oh well! Like I say, Metroid be the game that awaken in me, my pleasure.

I remember school I go to when I was young. Very, very young, I was. In Japan, we have very little space. I cramped next to girl I like for whole year, but I was too shy… too shy to ask her, “You like me?” I blush everyday when sitting next to beautiful girl. One day, I was talking with friends about videogame I like: It called Metroid. At end of game, we all like, “WTF? Is girl! Ganbatte!” and we throw our arms in air, like this. I laugh so hard! But girl next to me say, “What wrong with game girl?” She was very angry, and had hands on hips. I was frightened, very frightened, because I wanted her to like me. But, other friends say: “Girl’s no in videogame! It is abusurudu!”

My friend girl did not like that. She turned away to go. I was frightened, so I grabbed her hand. I slap myself! Why, oh why did I do that? Looking back, it great, but then, my heart beat so fast. Like you Americans say, like fart through door revolve. She turn back to me and wait for me to speak. I say: “Nukai,(I turn to nukai) are not girls very pretty to look at? Samus very pretty.” I say. I turn to face koishi(that my friend girls name) “Koishi, you are very pretty. I would like to see you in game!” Roko ayitashi Ganbatte! My friends laugh at me, but I see koishi’s cheek. It turn all red, and I know she like me. Oh, what joyous happy happy that be!

I look back, and I see how videogames did best things in my life. As I played, I could think clearer. It like a drug, but without addiction! Sadly, sometimes I would shock myself. Fall on the ground, I would, and shake. It very bad shake, and scare my parents. But it was gift from heaven. I look back now, and I see videogames are gift from heaven. After all, they got me my first kiss!

[ot]Enjoy! Cacafire[/ot]


Fantasy of You

Senior Member
I thought you meant in dialogue at first. You know, where the lips move differentlt to what they say. 'You kill my father, now you must die!' Good luck to everyone ^^ cacafire likes like that all the time, it's not a special thing for him. *shurgs*

Why, oh why did I do that?


Senior Member
Chef Gorgon’s Kitchen Hell
“Contestants, people come Kitchen Hell good food. We make best or you fired. Today have five chefs. Not you say, I say. I yell lots, you say – Yes Chef - no questions. Today lunch you make potato soup al la you. Recipe best win.”.

“Ok, time start cooking. What say?”

“Yes Chef!”

“Good, now cook.”

“Judges bunch coal miners, Thirty minutes cook soup. Go, Go, Go!”

“Yes chef!”

Cooks worked fast make potato soup for miners. Make many kinds soup from potatoes.

Minnie use potato flakes, sour cream soup; also with parsley peppercorn garnish.

Gary chops potatoes small and boil fast. Add lots milk and grape juice. Make flavorful curdles.

Sue also boil small potatoes, not for mash, put in beans and parsley.

Lou bake potato’s cut up small, toss in wit Cajun gumbo and rice.

Ching Na use sweet potato with spinach greens, sage, fish guts made fish broth.

In come coal miner’s. Chef Gorgon yell, “Get soup customers.”

“Yes Chef.”

Miner’s ate soups all up. Voted for favorites.

Winner – Ching Na’s sweet potato fish broth soup. Love fish gut broth, yum.

“Prize - year supply fish guts. Get anywhere. Love Chef Gorgon?”
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Senior Member
Aaaaand here's my re-do.

Fight For Your Dreams!

I have waited all my life for this moment. I have trained. I have practiced. I have fought hard for my dream, to be the greatest in this contest, to win. I will try my hardest to achieve victory, and if I do not, I will keep fighting for my dreams. I will never give up!

I take my seat as tears begin to roll down my cheeks. “This is for you Ayna.” I whisper. She used to train with me; we shared this dream. But one unlucky morning two days ago, gamblers with money on the reigning champion, Ichiro Ikki murdered her. I tried to fight them off with my powerful Shinobi stylings but I was injured in the battle. Luckily I can still compete in today’s contest, and avenge Anya’s honor!

My rival, former classmate, Ritsuki, sits down next to me. “Ah,” he says, “I see you’re still competing.”

“Yes, I am going to win.” I say. “For Anya.”

“I doubt that. You are still a novice. You have not as much technique as I do!”

“But I have my dreams, and my friends behind me!”

“Dreams. Dreams are for the weak.”

I pull down my eyelid and stick out my tongue. “BLEH!” I say to him. “We’ll see about that.” I spot my master Kakashi in the crowd. He looks at me with pride. I will not let him down.

The announcer grabs his microphone. “Goooooooood morning ladies and geeeeeentlemen! And welcome to the thirtieth annual squid pie-eating contest! Contestants! Ready! Set! Stuff your faces!”

I lunge into my pie, shoving squid chunks into my mouth as fast as I can. The crowd gasps as the pies are consumed. I can hear the announcer commenting on each eaters particular style.

Finally, after many minutes of slobbering and chewing I finish my final piece. I leap to my feet. “I’m done!” I scream. I did it! I won! I am the greatest squid pie eater ever! The buzzer sounds. The crowd cheers. Ritsuki swears and spits out a chunk of squid. I look over and see Ichiro Ikki throw up squid pieces onto the crowd bellow. I’ve finally done it! I have my dream! Tears shoot from my eyes like waterfalls. “Anya,” I whisper, “You are avenged…”
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Senior Member
[ot]No, No, NO!!!! Gifralin, it has to sound like it's translated from Japanese, not chinese! I can tell, because most of the words in your story are reminiscent of the monosyllabic structure of Chinese, while Japanese would butcher the word order, not the syllabic structure, as the syllabic structure is similiar to english(with a few irregularities engendered from the syllabary alphabet.). Five point off!!! :D

FOY said:
cacafire likes like that all the time, it's not a special thing for him. *shurgs*

Fantasy, Just how do you know me so well that you could form that conjecture? (stalker?(!)) I don't swing that way, dude. :p

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Senior Member
[ot]Oops, shows you just how rural I live. Oh well, it was fun anyway, I'll try the next one.[/ot]
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Senior Member
[ot]I went ahead and removed mine since I don't believe it was properly meeting the prompt.[/ot]
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Senior Member
Since none of you seemed to be able to read my mind, I've revised the prompt and given an extra week to do it. You can edit or remove your current entries if you so choose.

Chris Miller

WF Veterans
The Reception

[size=+1]The Reception[/size]​

The setting: Tokyo’s exclusive Hakoniwa restaurant’s most spacious private room. Prince Ababa Muhammad sits at a walnut kotasu table with his imam, his lawyer, his physician, his translator, and his new bride. They sit on low shinto stools upholstered in living zoysia grasses. A stoic bodyguard stands discreetly back. Ababa has usurped a Mizuho Financial Group’s thirteen week “party of forty” reservation. The table is the size of a small putting green. Craftsmen have raised it nine inches to accommodate Ababa’s inflexibility and girth. His bride, Kichi, at thirteen, is sweet and delicate as a cherry blossom.

Ababa (in Arabic): Your Prime Minister Koizumi entertains in a small booth here tonight I’m told, crowded together like maggots on meat.

Translator (in Japanese): A culinary luxury in a city where office space leases by the square inch, no?

Kichi: [sipping honey hachimitsu] I am most impressed my husband.

Translator: [translates]

Ababa: But are you not afraid too?

Translator: Is it not exciting to be the wife of Saudi royalty?

Kichi: [eyes demurely down, picking at tenmisu with basil and sesame] It is a great honor.

Ababa: I cannot wait to deflower your every nubile portal.

Translator: I am drawn to you like the hummingbird to the lotus.

Kichi: [blushing] I am eager for your guidance, husband.

Lawyer (in Arabic): With all respect your highness, it would be advisable not to injure her severely… externally that is. It could make tomorrow’s annulment unduly litigious.

Ababa: [mouth full of salty otoshi squid] That is what I pay you for! I’ll discipline my wife as always. Hide her behind the burka.

Imam (in Arabic): Only strike her if she resists.

Lawyer: Remember, this is not Nepal.

Ababa: [touching Kichi’s face] After me, you’ll never want another.

Translator: Tonight will be most memorable.

Kichi: My father’s but a humble pot scrubber. We’re forever in your debt.

Translator: [translates]

Server: [enters bowing] Fugu-sashi. [arranges plates]

Bodyguard: [steps forward]

Ababa: [blocking plate with hand] It’s the most expensive delicacy. No need for you to taste. Two-thousand yen a bite! [shoving morsels into mouth with fingers] I assume it’s edible.

Kichi (softly): Fugu’s said to increase the pleasure of the marriage bed.

Translator: [translates]

Ababa: [still stuffing face with raw blowfish in tangy citrus sauce] Good, because I find it neither succulent nor filling.

Server (whispering to Kichi): Father says he’s never seen so many chefs. There’s bedlam in the kitchen.

Ababa: [eating from the imam’s and then the lawyer’s plate] My nose is tingling. My lips are numb.

Physician: You should rest. You are flushed.

Ababa: Owwwwoooomph. [falls facedown in flavorful Hokkaido hotpot with juicy chunks of cod and vegetables]

Lawyer: [taking bite of dashi fried todo (sea lion)] Is he okay?

Physician [sniffing Umeshu plum brandy, takes Ababa’s pulse] No, he’s dead.

Imam: Go with Allah then, all praise to Allah.

Bodyguard (in Arabic): Shit!

Lawyer (in Arabic): Our condolences, widow. We are at your service, princess.

Translator: [translates]
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The Gila Monster Challenge

“And beside Yugomuchi we have Angya Sokimaki, star of stage and television. What do you think of the secret ingredient, Angya”

“Oh, ha ha ha. I don’t know about star, ha ha ha. I like food, ha ha ha. I have never eaten Asian mud pit gila monster testicles before but I like lizard, ha ha ha.”

“Well, you’re always a star in our book, Angya. You know, Mookitan, this particular variety of lizard testicles are deep purple. How do you think that will that will affect the outcome of the ice cream Iron Chef Yakamoro is making?”

“I don’t think anyone will be worried about the purple color when they taste those rare Antarctic truffles he is slicing into each serving dish. There are only twelve pounds of those truffles in the entire world and he is slicing almost a half pound into each bowl.”

“Ah, yes. Those truffles are the most expensive food on earth, are they not, Mookitan?”

“I’ll say. At eighty-seven thousand dollars per ounce each of our judges will be taking fifty-thousand dollar bites of testicle ice cream soaked truffles. What do you think of that, Angya?”

“Oh, ha ha ha. I like lizard testicles very much but, ha ha ha, I don’t know if I would pay that much money for a bite, ha ha ha.”

“And, now over here in kitchen stadium it appears that the challenger is pulling out the big guns in this competition. What is that he has in his hands, Mookitan?”

“Well, I believe thats… hmm.. yes, I’ve just had it confirmed, that’s a big gun. He has it pointed at chef Yakamoro and… Oh, that‘s a real surprise. The challenger has shot Iron Chef Yakamora and he is now running toward us. What do you make of that, Angya?”

“I think, ha ha ha, we’re going to die now, ha ha ha”.


"Monster Mashed"

Out of the depths it rose, a prehistoric creature spawned by atomic radiation. Two green eyes the size of Buicks, peering out from the ocean’s sanctity, while the bumpy green head broke the water’s meniscus.

“Godzilla!” cried the ants of Tokyo, as they scurried in their futile fashion for somewhere they deemed secure.

The great beast screamed with a foghorn’s lament as it stepped onto shore and crushed a building filled with cheap electronic toys on their way to the US.

Deep inside Mount Fuji, something stirred. The seismic disturbance caused by Godzilla’s pounding on Tokyo made a small part of the mantel shift. Heat rose from the earth’s center, warming the shell of a long extinct member of the order of Testudines. Its head poked out of its shell and felt the heat. The tortoise exploded out in a hail of debris and dust that filtered down into the valley.

The turtle, Gamera, retracted its head and legs and flames erupted from the holes. With its primitive form of jet propulsion, it sped its way through the air and landed on the Kyobi building, destroying the first six floors.

Godzilla moved on an intercept course through plaster and concrete.

In a fissure created by the destruction of Mount Fuji, a creature stirred. The earth opened and out shot a black streak. It flew into the air at hypersonic speed with its triangular head glowing in the sun. Rodan screamed the squawk of a predator, swooped and landed on the Ito building next to the Kyobi.

Godzilla approached the two reptilian nemeses with care.

“Hey guys,” Godzilla said.

“Hey Zill,” said Gamera.

“Godman, what’s the hap?” said Rodan.

“Same radiation, different day.”

“True, my man,” said Rodan.

“So when is this thing suppose to start?” said Gamera.

“Is your head up your frickin’ shell all day long? We decided to host this thing and I get stuck sending out invites,” said Godzilla.

“Whine, whine, whine, have you ever tried to write with stubs,” Gamera said.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Rodan said holding out his wings.

“Alright, alright,” said Godzilla,” I sent out invitations to the Loch ness monster, Moby Dick, Gorgo, Reptilicus, Paul Bunyan, The Jolly Green Giant and the Blob.”

“The Blob’s Jell-O isn’t too bad.”

“I hope Moby doesn’t make those plankton burgers again, I shit green for a week,” said Rodan as he picked a bus and ripped open the top. He plucked one of the passengers out, bit it and then put it back.

“Don’t do that,” Godzilla said.


“Bit one and put it back.”

“Well, let’s hope this decades Monster Cook-off doesn’t end like the last one,” Gamera said.

“It was you who stepped on the Monster for the Black Lagoon.”

A primordial scream broke their conversation.

“Ah shit,” said Rodan.

“It’s the fuckin’ Smog monster,” said Gamera.

“With his borsch I‘ll bet, my scales stunk for two years after I got near that crap.”

It was going to be a long month.

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