I thank you all for my well-deserved win.

Although charles was right, Space Jawa's story did adhere to the blurb theme better.

I welcome the change from historical to literary figures. All these americana kinda made it difficult for me. I had never even heard of Kit Carson before.

Neither had I till I did a quick search on wikipedia.

But congrats on besting me, sir.

NEXT ROUND:

The randomly chosen participants are:


charlesx

and

Norym


The Title: Danger on Jackson's Island

The Blurb: Huck and Jim expected danger, but they never expected to encounter a slave hunter who wasn't exactly a human being!

The Deadline will be Wednesday by Noon Eastern, though as usual either player can request an extention if they need one.

Eek. Hectic schedule coming up. Hope to be able to meet the deadline, but will let you know in case I slip a bit. Sorry, all.

One of the players has requested an extension of the deadline until Friday, so stories from the two current players are not due until noon of that day.

Can you entertain us in the meantime?

Yes!

Tell us the tale of John Carter and the Crab Ladies of Pluto.

That old chestnut? You've all heard it a thousand times!

Perhaps THIS will entertain you. Now stop bothering me!

Here's the plots from Charlesx and Norym, in randomly determined order:

Plot #1

As Huck and Jim flee town with the duke and king just before the mob of townsfolk turn up before the third night of "The Royal Nonesuch" scam, the foursome witness a terrifying sight chasing them, a slave hunter. As the mob catches sight of the slave hunter they scatter forgetting the scams of the teen, slave and pair of swindles, the slave hunter is one of the dreaded fugitive recovery agents from Venus. Standing over 7 feet tall with skin the color red Georgia clay there was no mistaking who he is and what he is after, Jim the escaped slave.
Paddling fast Huck and Jim listen to the duke and king explain that a handful of Venusians arrived on Earth to as refugees and most become escaped slave and bounty hunters.
The bounty hunter catches up to Huck and Jim at the Phelpses' farm and snatches Jim while Huck sleeps.
As Huck chases the Bounty Hunter back to Missouri he meets up with Tom Sawyer. They set up an ambush for the bounty hunter just outside the home of Jim’s owner Miss Watson. Huck gets in a lucky shot with his slingshot taking the bounty hunter in the eye, killing him instantly. Tom tells Huck that Miss Watson had died and freed Jim in her will. Huck knows he will be on the run from the Bounty Hunter Guild for the rest of his life.

Plot #2

Call me Huck. I was just a boy of 14 when I saw the most weirdest thing ever. There I was, resigned to living in the care of the Widow Douglas, who had taken me in as a kindness. She was all set to “sivilize” me, she said. The Widow fitted me with new clothes, tried to teach me my letters, and didn’t let me smoke or cuss none, darnit. Dear Lord, it was driving me looney – and looney I prob'ly would have gone, had not Little Jim run away that one night.

Little Jim was Big Jim’s son, a little negro fella about my age who worked for the Widow alongside his pappy. Mind you, they were freedmen but the job was still hard and Little Jim up and ran after getting wupped by his pappy for talking back smart. Pretty soon all St. Petersburg was in a hub-bub, seemed like. Along the banks of the Mississippi, there was one place that most runaways seemed to make for: Jackson’s Island. The trick now was not figuring out where Little Jim mighta gone, but making sure that someone found him afore one of the local slave chasers caught up to him and sold him South. The main reason for the hub-bub, though, was that in recent years Jackson’s Island had gone queer. Some folks called it haunted – and some others whispered about the uncanny ranch that some rich Northener had built all secret-like on the Island.

It was just about then that my pal Tom Sawyer came knocking on my door and said we should go search for Little Jim. We knew it would be dangerous, but when did that ever stop us boys? While the Mayor and the townsfolk were arguing what to do next, Tom and I slipped away at dusk and followed the deer trails along the Mississippi. A full moon had risen by the time that we made it to the fork in the river bend. There, among the rushes, Tom and I had tucked a rowboat what we used to go fishing when the fancy took us. The night seemed eerily quiet as we pushed off and let the dark current take us downstream.

Dawn was not yet peeking over the horizon when we spotted Jackson’s Island. I felt a knot in my throat but Tom didn’t seem bothered none. Right before we pulled up on the bank, Tom drew out a flintlock pistol that he must have pinched. I knew better than to say anything. Tom had that determined look on his face that said if trouble came calling, then we’d meet it head on. Good thing, because no longer had we beached the boat that all damnation broke loose.

There was a mighty tussle in the nearby bushes and a loud hooping and a hollering. We froze in our tracks and darned if Little Jim didn’t come hurling towards us out of the underbrush. He had company, too – and it wasn’t the human kind. It looked like some hairy, ugly, misshapen fella, all hunched over. It was wearing a red fancy jacket with a name on it. “Bubbles”, it read. I didn’t get to see much more before Tom’s pistol rang out loudly. Before I could take in what was going on, the hairy thing had fled, Little Jim was huddled in my arms, and nothing else living was on that riverbank. Didn’t take more than a look between us before we were rowing away as fast as we could muster.

Little’s Jim’s words when we were back to town are etched in my mind to this very day. I shall never forget them. “Th-the odd thin man with the dark spectacles tole it to fetch me, Massa Huck!!” the poor negro boy sobbed. “He wanted to sleep in the same room with m-me! He tole me to spank the monkey, Massa Huck!!! But wh-why f-for? I was skeered of the monkey!!! I dassn’t spank it!! I jes’ dassn’t!!!!”

END

The deadline for voting is Wednesday by noon Eastern.

As winner of the last round, EmperorNorton can vote, but his vote will only count if its needed as a tie-breaker.

I vote #2.

I vote #2.

I vote for my story!

I shall also vote for Number 2.

I guess that means my vote is meaningless?