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Oct. 27th, 2002 01:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scottobearMore entries into the moonpie contest
I am Zarkon, a humble time-traveler. My Memory of Moon Pies takes place four hundred years in your future, from which I have just arrived. It is necessary for this entry to win the contest in order for my world to continue it’s idyllic existence.
War, poverty, hunger, disease and crime have been eliminated, thanks to your miraculous confection. Know that as the centuries roll by, all will be revealed.
It’s not a coincidence that UFOs are shaped like moon pies… To say more would jeopardize my mission. As we say in my time, pax via empanada de luna.
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smile. flower. young love. blush. laughter. running home. hayride. fumbling kiss. bare feet. dreaming. breeze. raindrops. crickets. climbing trees. pajamas. sunsets. holding hands. moon pies. my true love.
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My name is Rufus, and I am a loup-garou, or as you would say... a werewolf. Your moon pies make me happy, rather than the real moon, whose harsh silver light transforms me into a slavering hairy creature of the evening. Before I chain myself to the cement pillar in my basement in order to fend off my cravings for more active prey, I stock up on your delicious moon-pies. Even a crazed animal can appreciate the marshmallowy goodness and quality workmanship that can be seen in every cellophane-wrapped morsel.
Goodnight, dear journal!
I am Zarkon, a humble time-traveler. My Memory of Moon Pies takes place four hundred years in your future, from which I have just arrived. It is necessary for this entry to win the contest in order for my world to continue it’s idyllic existence.
War, poverty, hunger, disease and crime have been eliminated, thanks to your miraculous confection. Know that as the centuries roll by, all will be revealed.
It’s not a coincidence that UFOs are shaped like moon pies… To say more would jeopardize my mission. As we say in my time, pax via empanada de luna.
----------
smile. flower. young love. blush. laughter. running home. hayride. fumbling kiss. bare feet. dreaming. breeze. raindrops. crickets. climbing trees. pajamas. sunsets. holding hands. moon pies. my true love.
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My name is Rufus, and I am a loup-garou, or as you would say... a werewolf. Your moon pies make me happy, rather than the real moon, whose harsh silver light transforms me into a slavering hairy creature of the evening. Before I chain myself to the cement pillar in my basement in order to fend off my cravings for more active prey, I stock up on your delicious moon-pies. Even a crazed animal can appreciate the marshmallowy goodness and quality workmanship that can be seen in every cellophane-wrapped morsel.
Goodnight, dear journal!
