Hello, Cribbers!🎊

We welcome you to another session of

Who is excited??😁🎊

As you all know, this is Stage four (The Polls). You all get to be involved in the Judging, so keep your eyes out and get ready to vote.

Without further ado, let's see our contestants in the first group.

003 Dewdrop

009 TheHumblePen

021 Star

027 Phoenix

JUDGES REVIEW

Let's give it up for our first contestant.

003 Dewdrop

Story entry:

The automatic gate swerved to the side, revealing the deserted surroundings of the estate that was crawling with the Paparazzi earlier. Even with how it appeared that there was no one in sight, I still found myself peering harder into the night with the aid of the headlights of the car.

It's been a week since that day and they haven't stopped hanging around the estate like a swarm of bees. One would think they would decrease in number since that day, but the increase and a stronger sense of determination to catch even a glimpse of my face was as annoying as it was unnerving.

I pushed my hoodie backwards, and that gave way for a rancid smell-which I gathered was emanating from my armpit, judging by my lack of contact with water for days-that oozed from the small opening around my neck. As I proceeded to drive out of the compound, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the rearview mirror, and anyone in their right senses would be horrified by this kind of reflection.

But, I wasn't.

My bloodshot eyes were as lifeless as they were haunting. It was almost as though they competed with the eyebags adorning my face. I flat-out looked like I was run over by a truck.

And without batting an eyelid at my reflection, I drove out of the compound and sped off into the night. All through the ride, I was so absentminded, drowning in my thoughts, that I concluded that it was a miracle that I hadn't driven into a pole before I got to the estate.

I pulled over in front of the building, letting myself out of the car without a second thought because I was just as determined as I was since I had been coming here.

I knocked on the gate a few times before it was pulled open after a while, revealing the security guard's face, whose look soon hardened into a deep frown.

"Oga, you no dey hear word? Cotton wool dey your ear ni? Ahn ahn!" he was very irritated and he wasn't even trying to hide it.

"Please," my voice, which I hadn't used in days, came out so tiny and hoarse, "you have to let me in, please," I pleaded.

"Oga-" he retracted his words when he saw that I had begun raking my pocket aggressively to fish out a few naira notes to hand to him. I retrieved them and handed them over to him, earning me a sigh.

"Oya, come inside, but no be me open gate for you sha," he stepped aside and let me into the compound.

I was already striding towards the entrance before he could say one more word. I rang the doorbell, shoving my hands into the pocket of my sweatpants as I waited for a response.

The door swung open, revealing the sight of her bare, yet flawless face, which made my breath hitch so hard, and I let out a breath because it felt like I could finally breathe for the first time in days.

She didn't look surprised to see me, instead, she was very irritated, judging by the way her brown eyes blazed with fury.

"What the hell is your problem?!" she fired at me.

"Toyosi, please," I choked out, a burning sensation lingering in my chest.

"I clearly told you not to show your face to me ever again!" she yelled.

"I just want to talk," I pleaded.

She stared at me for a moment and scoffed before moving aside so I could step in. She shut the door behind her and turned to face me, folding her arms across her chest. Her light skin was flushed in anger.

"You can't ask me to live without you, Toyosi. It's too much to ask because it's been hell without you," I told her, my voice quivering and cracking. I attempted to step forward, to hold her in my arms but she recoiled as though my touch disgusted her.

"You are a joke, Demilade," she shook her head at me, her words hitting me really hard in the guts, bringing so many tears to my eyes.

"I'll do anything to have you back. I am willing to let it go. I'll forget the fact that you chose him over me. I'll forget the fact that you dumped me at the altar. I'll forget the fact that you got rid of our baby without consulting me first if you come with me. We can fix it, Toyosi. Please, don't ruin us," my words were thick with emotions and the desperation they held didn't bother me, but what tore through me and made my chest constrict so hard was the coldness in her eyes.

"We already ruined, Demilade. There was never us in the first place. You chose to believe that, bless your delusional heart, by the way. So, leave!" she shunned me.
"Baby, please," I croaked, "there's no home without you. You can ask me anything, money, houses, cars, shares. Anything! But please, don't put me through that torture again and ask me to go back to a place where you are not! I am miserable without you!" I wheezed, throwing my hands up in the air.

"Do you hear how pathetic you sound?" she arched a brow at my words, not fazed in the least, and that hit so hard that tears dropped effortlessly from my eyes.

"It was never you. It was him. It's always going to be him. How hard is that for you to understand?" she gritted her teeth.

"Hello, brother," the sadistic voice that came up from behind me had me freezing in place. Toyosi only cast me a disdainful stare and walked out of my presence.

I spun around. Hard. "Toyosi! Toyosi! Toyosi!" I called her incessantly, but she paid no heed to words, and I was forced to face him.

He stared at me with his lips curled in a smirk and his hands shoved in the pocket of his trousers. It was almost bizzare how it felt like I was staring right back at my reflection in the mirror. We shared almost the same features and dark complexion, but what stood out the most and made it easier to tell us apart were our eyes. His eyes were a shade of grey and mine were pure brown.

"Ini," I said venomously.

"The Golden twin, Mommy's little boy and Daddy's pride," he spat out the words in disgust, "it must hurt like a bitch, huh? To have everything you love most taken away from you. You finally let that one person in after years of shutting everyone out, and then, she tore out your heart and ripped it to shreds right in front of you without batting an eyelid. That must really hurt," he kissed his teeth, stepping forward.

"You are a demon," I spat.

He shrugged, his grey eyes, a total opposite of my brown ones, twinkled with a psychotic glint.

"I have always been tagged the black sheep, so why not live up to it?" he grinned.

"So, you got back at me because of your bruised ego?" I asked incredulously.

"You think this is about my bruised ego? No, this is me making you step into my shoes and stomach even a pinch of the hurt I have had to endure for years!" he bellowed, marching forward and closing in on me, "and you know what? I am going to use her, screw with her head, then toss her aside, just to show you I can have anything I want, just to show you that you are not as invincible as you like to think, Demilade Gray!" he spoke with such an audaciousness and determination that rattled me to the core, moulding me and shattering me into pieces, over and over again.

"So, have fun piecing together the pieces of your sad, broken life, because, brother, it's going to hurt, and it will hurt so bad because this is only the beginning," his voice was low, dark and threatening, shoving me backwards like an invisible force.

"I win, brother." He whispered, his terrifically cold eyes which had grown several shades darker, bore into mine as fresh, hot tears streamed down my face.

With a sadistic smirk, he raised his hands in mock surrender and retreated, leaving me all alone in the living room.
I just stood there, trying to get a grasp on my shredded, punctured, and agonising breathing. My eyes blurred so badly with tears and my legs, which were glued to a spot, suddenly gave me away. I clutched my chest really hard, wishing for a second that I could claw out my own heart and stomp on it so that it wouldn't hurt this much.

A gut-wrenching scream tore through my lips, resounding throughout the house in a deafening echo that crushed my soul to pieces.

Commentator: That was a nice read. Is this the story you are voting? Or nah?
Y'all should watch out for others, before you make your decisions.

The next contestant for this group is our one and only...

009 TheHumblePen

Prompt title: My life as a writer.

Story entry:

"No. Don't give up hope just yet. It's the last thing to go. When you have lost hope, you have lost everything. And when you think all is lost, when all is dire and bleak, there is always hope."
― Pittacus Lore, I Am Number Four.

"Arianator 012, you have been evicted from project pen..."

"Dear Mayowa Collins, we are sorry to inform you that your poem didn't meet the requirements..."

"Good day, Mayowa. We are grateful for your participation. Unfortunately, your story didn't make it to the next stage..."

Mayowa slammed her laptop down and groaned, the flashbacks were giving her a headache. There was just this anxiety that constantly tormented her, a voice that kept asking, wondering that maybe, just maybe, aspiring to be a writer was a mistake.

Mayowa took a deep breath to calm herself down but her hands were still shaking. It had been about a week since she had lost stage four of the project pen competition, two weeks since Punch newspaper rejected her poem, and a month since she'd lost the common wealth short story competition. Maybe her mother had been right, she should've focused more on her studies and writing should've stayed a hobby. But it wasn't just a mere "hobby." To Mayowa, writing was her dream, her ambition, a major part of her goals in life. Writing was her purpose.

She was just about to open her laptop again when her phone began to ring beside her. The caller ID was "Tobi" and she swiped across the screen to pick it up.

"Hi," she said. Tobi was her best friend who she'd met in college. Tobi was also a writer but a more successful one. She was an intern of the Ankara woman, one of the most popular blogs in Nigeria.

"Mayowa baby," she teased, "how have you been? it's been long oh."

"I've been okay," Mayowa replied dryly.

"Are you sure?" Tobi asked, "how did project pen go?"

"I lost," Mayowa sighed, "woefully at that. And I don't think I want to keep writing anymore."

"Mayowaaa..." Tobi began, but Mayowa didn't let her finish.

"I lose at everything!" Mayowa exclaimed angrily. She didn't know where the anger came from but suddenly, it was there. Boiling hot on the inside and tremendously loud on the outside. She felt like she could punch something, she just hoped it wouldn't be her laptop.

"I don't even know why I'm still doing this writing thing; it's literally just adding to my stress. I have fellowship meetings, school projects to handle, a book-selling business to run. I'm tired, Tobi. I really don't think I can keep writing. It's just been rejection, after rejection, after rejection."

"So you just want to give up?" Tobi asked, disappointed. "Is that what you really want?"

Mayowa sunk down in the chair she was sitting, a sigh escaping her lips.

"I don't know, Tobi. I don't think I have a choice."

"Mayowa," Tobi began, I could hear some shuffling and then footsteps, a sign that she was going for a walk, "I'm so sorry that this happened to you. But I really don't think you should give up now.

Mayowa opened her mouth to talk, but it was almost like Tobi could tell that she wanted to speak.

"Wait," she said. "A lot of the things you said just happened to you, they happen to other writers. The writer of the script of squid game got rejected multiple times before his idea was actually considered. J.K. Rowling and C.S. Lewis were actually rejected a lot of times as well.
No one nails writing the first time and a lot of people don't nail it on their second or third tries either."

"I'm not even sure if I have it in me to try anymore." Mayowa sighed, "I want to keep trying but I don't even know if it'll go well. It seems like everyone my age is making waves except me."

Tobi sighed, "growing up, my mother thought writing should be nothing more than a hobby as well. A year ago, when she saw that my writing was actually good, she didn't even give a damn about me. She just joked about how nice it'd be to be called "the mother of a writer" My father couldn't even stomach the fact that I wanted to be a writer. He kept threatening to burn my manuscripts if I continued."

She paused for a bit and Mayowa winced. She could tell that the conversation was becoming a bit difficult for her. But Tobi pushed through anyway.

"You can't be a wuss, Mayowa. I know it sucks to hear, but it's true. Your pain and frustration are still really valid regardless of what I've been through. But you won't always have support, heck, you might not even always have me. But you will always have yourself, and if you keep believing in yourself and giving yourself chances, I don't see why you can't become a good writer."

"Really?" Mayowa sniffed. She could feel the tears slowly cascading down her face. She didn't know what exactly had triggered them, but she knew that Tobi was telling her exactly what she needed to hear.

"Yes, really," Tobi said, "I've read your works, babes. And they're awesome. Sometimes, they need a little more work and sometimes, they need a lot of editing, but there's no written piece that doesn't need these things. I'm proud of you, Mayowa. I really am. If no one else says it, at least remember that you've heard it from me."

Mayowa sobbed out loud now, covering her mouth so as not to make noise. Tobi gave her some space and let her cry out all the frustration, anger, and exhaustion that must have been bottled up within her. When she realized she'd stopped, Tobi continued.

"Sometimes hope is all you have," she said, "and it just pushes you to keep going, if you let it. You also have to accept the fact that there'll be people out there doing better than you and that it's okay to not be the best all the time. You need to put in the work and energy required to improve your craft. Then, someday, you'll be calling to tell me that your book is about to be published by Penguin or HarperCollins."

Mayowa giggled and Tobi was relieved to see that her pep talk had worked.

"Do you feel any better, babes?" Tobi asked, just to be sure.

"Yeah, I do. Thank you." Mayowa replied. Tobi would never know how much she'd helped her in that moment. She hoped she would be able to pay back the favour soon.
"Do you have any videos or articles that could help with my writing?" Mayowa suddenly asked. She'd had enough time to sit with her feelings, it was time to get back to work.

"I'll send the links to your dm right now."

****

Mayowa looked at the story she'd just written. The font was nice and it was the right size but she was smart enough to know that these weren't the most important things. She didn't know if "My life as a writer" would be a good enough story to win her fifty thousand naira, but she had to at least try. Tobi had liked it and so had everyone else on her writers group chat. And even if they hadn't really liked it, she did and that was more than enough for her.

Commentator: Wow! This piece was quite interesting, don't you think?

Remember to vote for your favourite ooo👀

Let's meet our third contestant for this group.

021 Star

Story entry:

The memories. They kept coming back, flooding my mind. I tried to block them out, I really did. But then, I gave up. I gave up because, no matter how hard I tried to block them out, they pushed harder, tearing down my walls, rubbing salt on my wounds.

A humorless chuckle involuntarily escaped my lips as I stared at my reflection.

I searched, but I couldn't find myself. It was someone else, and she stared right back at me.

Her natural hair was scattered, the tops starting to form ugly twists, her make up had gone wonky, red lipstick smeared across both cheeks, streaks of mascara stained her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, catarrh dripped from her nostrils.

She wasn't the excited pretty girl that stood before this mirror seven hours ago. That smile, it was gone.

I stared and stared and stared, and my chest started to ache. With each breath I took, it felt like tiny pins were poking my neck from the insides, eliciting sharp winces from me.

My eyes burned immensely, tears blurring my vision momentarily. I shut them close, causing the unshed tears to fall from the corner of my eyes, and immediately, I wished I didn't close them.

I could feel his hands all over me again. It felt like tiny insect were crawling up my skin, causing goosebumps to sprout on it.
I blinked my eyes open, reaching for the closest object to me, throwing it against the mirror.

The heel of my slip on collided with the smooth surface of the mirror, shattering it into a million pieces, its shards falling to the ground.

"Ugly!" I screamed, standing up from where I knelt on the ground, moving towards my vanity table. I pushed down my cosmetics, a loud groan eluding my lips.

I felt anger course through my veins as I dug my fingers in my hair, pulling at it.

"Stop!" I screamed out, putting either of my hands on my ears, shutting my eyes involuntarily in the process.

Fuck...
His teeth, they dug into my flesh, his tongue devouring me, his hands pinning mine over my head... on the bed.

I screamed, cried for help, but what did I expect?

The entire building was literally shaking as the loud music resonated through it, drowning my screams.

I tried self defense, hitting him in the abdomen with my knee, but it earned me a chuckle and a dirty slap across my face.

I threatened to report to the police, and he threatened to kill me, end me and turn my entire household to dust.

And I was left with only one option. I cried.

The loud bangs against my door drew my out of my dwam, causing me to avert my gaze towards it.

"Bolu!? Boluwatife, open the fucking door!"

More tears streamed down my face as I wondered if anybody would ever see me the same way they used to.

The last thing I remembered was black dots swirling around in my vision after his forearm connected to the side of my face, my eyes slowly shutting close.

And when I woke up, I was in my room.

Commentator: What do y'all think about this piece?

Is it getting a Yeah or Nah?👀

Last but not the least, give it up for...

027 Phoenix

Prompt title: A MOTHER'S LOVE.

Story entry:

"Mommy," I whisper, shaking my mother that is sleeping on the worn-out mattress in our one-bedroom apartment. It's another night when we go to bed on an empty stomach, but I don't mind. She works so hard to earn so little, and I know our situation isn't something she's proud of. I shake her again and call her name three more times before she finally wakes up."I heard gunshots," I say, and she bolts out of the bed to check if the doors are locked.

"It's going to be fine. They're not coming here...maybe you misheard or something," she says, coming back to the bed to hold me. I open my mouth to speak, but I'm silenced by another gunshot tearing through the silence.

I turn to her in fear, but she covers my ears and asks me to lie back down.Everywhere is still for a few minutes and I think it's over. They'reprobably gone, but the banging on the door says otherwise. We both freeze and I hold my breath. The banging continues, but we stay put. I cover my face with my palms and silently cry and pray to whoever will listen.Another shot is fired and I hear the front door scrape the tiles like it usually does when it's being opened.

"I know say person dey here. If you know wetin good for you, fly to this place," a gruff male voice says. There's no door separating the living room from the bedroom; only a curtain serves as a partition. Heavy Footsteps move closer until a huge man wearing a black shirt and black jeans walks into the room holding a gun. There's no electricity so, the only source of light is from the open window where the moonlight streams in.

"You no dey hear?" he asks and drags me roughly by the arm to the parlor and tosses me to the floor. My mom follows behind us screaming."Where the money? Bring everything valuable."

"There's no money here. Please just spare us," my mom says, kneeling down to beg him, but he ignores her pleas as two other men also wearing black walk through the open door.

"Money suppose dey. I go take your pikin o," he threatens, and one man drags me to a standing position.

"I'm begging you, just let her go. She's just a child. She's not even fourteen yet," she begs, tears streaming down her face. She looks helpless because she is. There's no man around to fight them off. She is my only support system and I'm hers.

"I'll waste her in three seconds if I no see the money," he says,pressing the cold bunt of the pistol to my forehead and I cover my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

"There's nothing-"

"One."

"I'm begging you, please."

"Two," he says and my mother rushes to my side but gets shoved to the ground by one of the other men. She rushes to her feet and I close my eyes.

"Three," he whispers, and I hear a shot being fired. I wait for the pain, but I feel nothing. I slowly open my eyes to see the once full of life body of my mother fall limply by my feet and I scream. For a moment,my whole body stills, and I don't know if I should gather her up in my arms, scream or start sobbing. I stare into her eyes as I fall to my knees.Sirens blare from a distance, and I hear footsteps scurry out the door, But I don't look up. I cradle my mother's head in my arms and sob.

"Mommy, this isn't the plan. You can't do this to me, please," I cry.

"You're going to be fine, Aurora," she coughs out, blood coating her lips.

"You're going to be just fine without me." Her tears dry up on her face and I wipe them away.

"You can't leave me like this. Open your eyes, mommy." But her eyes are already closed and she's gone.

Commentator: That's all the entries for this group. Let's see what our Judges think.

JUDGES REVIEW.

JUDGE JK ROWLING

If there is one thing I liked the most about most of you in this group, it is the Versatility.

Now, most of you took a different approach to the theme and that, I must commend. The theme of this stage is 'Evoke my Emotions' and we actually planned to test the writers' ability to not be confined into a box. I will be straight forward with you, showing us that you are *not* ready to think of a plot line that does not hover around depression or sadness or trauma (because we asked you to evoke our emotions), is a sure way to get evicted in this stage of Project Pen. (Unless you pull off this trope)

We are not going to carry over writers who are not ready to exercise their brains.

Nonetheless, you guys did well in this group and I must commend you. You all decided to attack the theme with a different trope.

DewDrop went for evoking anger and frustration off the readers. Yes, there's a bit of pity for the MC but we can see that the major emotion we get off this piece is anger and frustration. The HumblePen went for encouragement, you start it off thinking its the usual sob story of giving up, but no, its an assuring piece that evokes the feeling of encouragement. Phoenix went for fear.👏 Brilliant. Again like DewDrop, there were other emotions to be triggered in this piece but the main one is fear. My heart was in the air throughout the entire piece, tension was thick. Applause. However, I'm sorry to ask you, Star, but what did you do with your piece?

Look. We aren't playing here in Project Pen and I can see that you put in no effort into your work. There is no solid plot, just a girl crying and we don't even know why she is crying. Your story was annoying. It lacked creativity first off, and went straight forward to the basic sob trope, which gave me the impression that you were not even ready to be open minded. Good and fine, lets say you were not ready to think outside the box, but can you at least nail the sob trope? No. You wrote a story about a girl crying, no character dispensation, no plot, nothing. How am I supposed to feel bad for her when I don't even know why she is crying? Or what the fuck is going on? Please dont ever do this again. Warn yourself.

Now back to the other three: DewDrop, TheHumblePen, and Phoenix. I can't pick which one of you stood out for me, but all I can speak up on some things I noticed in all your works that you should have either done or not done, to make it better. It was good, but could be better.

First off, TheHumblePen, you wrote a good piece, but you have to understand the importance of starting and finishing strong as a writer. Let every line of your work slap, even down to the last freaking word. Be more creative with your endings. Your ending was okay, but I suggest that when you are writing tropes like this, *ending with an open ending would have given it more flavor.*

Your MC was apparently the one who wrote this story you submitted... Imagine ending it as the MC is watching the piece on the screen and deliberating if they should give up and delete everything or if they should send it... and just, well, end it there.

We know you sent it, because we read it. But that ending would have done a better job to put a smile on our faces, knowing that even in the MCs moment of uncertainty, they still didn't give up. Even if it was nor expressly stated in the piece. There is just something better about that method of ending the work that has a better effect than what you did. Try to be creative next time with your endings too, it adds flavor to your work.

And Phoenix, you could have just left your work in a cliffhanger, goddamit. Your work had the power to trigger fear, why add the whole bit of the death and all at the end. Be careful to study the theme you are asked to work with and be certain exactly the effect you want to have on your readers or audience and *be consistent with it!*

And DewDrop? Your work is good. I have praised the approach of anger and frustration you used, but I must say, something feels missing. I hate that I can't pin it down, but I feel this from time to time with your works. I love the fact that you took the advice from last time and thought outside the box, but I can't pin down what was missing with your piece. I want you to go far, DewDrop; I have pledged to figure out the missing element you have and fix it for you. Nonetheless, you are a great writer. More grease to your elbow.

JUDGE MAYA ANGELOU

Y'all tried your best, that's how I'm going to put it. But the only person that actually stood out for me in this group was The Humplepen, and that's because their story was the only one that evoked a different and unique emotion; HOPE. Dewdrop, I'm not sure what's going on with you. Maybe it's my fault because I kept expecting so much from you, only to be disappointed. It's no doubt that you are a good writer and you know the words you can use to evoke emotions. But it's not just about the words, it's about the way you execute them. You seem to have a problem with theme execution. I felt absolutely nothing from your work, not even pity for Demilade. Star, I'm not exactly sure what emotion you were trying to evoke with your work. Fear, Sadness, Anxiety... Insanity? I couldn't quite to place it, not to mention, you didn't put your all in this stage at all. Phoenix, you tried, but you could have done so much better with the story you went for. Your work had potential but you didn't actualize that potential.

JUDGE JAMES HARDLEY CHASE

This group was just there. Nothing extraordinary. Humblepen tried, he or she managed to keep me hooked. As for Drewdrop, his or her story is okay-ish. I believe Drewdrop is a great writer, My only issue with this contestant is how they always seem to be relaxed, like there is no effort or something, just relaxed in their comfort zone, I feel like he or she is giving less than their capability. Like they can do so much more. As for Star, did she think we came here to play, this is stage four, what was that she submitted? Is stage four joke to you all? Lastly Phoneix's story is very basic, with no creativity at all.
You all where expected to think outside the box.

JUDGE ARUNDHATI ROY

Your entries did not impress me. While you all are good writers, I mean with punctuations, tenses and all, it's obvious no-one really thought outside the box or really came up with something that'd evoke deep emotions or provoke feelings like the prompt asked you too. Star, it's obvious you did not really put your all into this stage because I was shocked. Till now, I still don't understand the feelings you were trying to provoke with what submitted. Humble Pen, your entry was creative but that's it. That's it! It provoked nothing. I think you were just comfortable in your submission that you didn't even bother to give it your 5%. That was a ridiculously comfortable submission and to the theme? You did no justice. Phoenix, I thought you'd do better than this because just like Humble Pen, you were so relaxed with what you submitted. DewDrop, your entry is still my favorite in your batch, it's not the best but I could see that you tried and your writing was done in such a way that I could feel the MC's feelings so yeah, it did provoke feelings. Also, I've always been a fan of writers that can say so much with so little words.

JUDGE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Group one, thee all w're just th're. Humblepen's entry wast creative, but i didn't feeleth a thing. Th're wast nothing. Dewdrop, thy entry wast well enow, but thee very much needeth to buckle up. Star, i coequal not knoweth. Phoenix hath tried, but t wasn't enow.

Group one, you all were just there. Humblepen's entry was creative, but I didn't feel a thing. There was nothing. Dewdrop, your entry was okay, but you really need to buckle up. Star, I don't even know. Phoenix tried, but it wasn't enough.

JUDGE ACTON BELL

Sadness, sadness, sadness. Is that the only kind of emotion that exists? Y'all tried though. That's all.

JUDGE KAREN KINGSBURY

Okay, I wasn't really impressed with the works in this group. Phoenix's was the only one which really drew to me. But you all tried and you're even in the top twenty, that's something.

JUDGE JANE CORRY

First of all, Star, what the hell did you write? Cause me I did not understand a single word in your entry. Apart from that, I love the entries, they were nice. They actually made me a bit sad, especially 027 PHOENIX own.

JUDGE DANIELLE LORI

Group 1's submission started on a good note with Humble pen's submission... and then, it fell flat. I could see what Dewdrop and especially Star tried to portray but I feel like it was executed poorly. Phoenix took me out with their entry. It was such a beautiful piece. Overall, the entire group did fairly well but could have been better.

Commentator: That's it for Group one. Did anyone evoke your emotions?👀

Who are you voting for?

Make sure you go back to our Whatsapp group chat, The Main crib for the voting link, which would be sent there.

Until next time, Cribbers😁❤️