Hello, cribbers!🎊

We welcome you to the second batch of

Is someone not excited!?

Because I am screaming right now!😩

As we all know, the contestants are in pairs. And for this batch we will be having the following contestants;

009 TheHumblePen vs 031 PeanutButter

011 Efin101 vs 030 Zoë

013 TheMiniAsthete vs 027 Phoenix

014 Bema vs 026 ThatGirl

Let's begin, shall we?

STAGE THREE

JUDGES REVIEW.

Let's welcome our first pair for this batch. Give it up for...

009 TheHumblePen vs 031 PeanutButter

009 TheHumblePen

Prompt title: Inside the mind of Judge Jane Austen

Story entry:

Jane sighed as she stared at the message she's just received. Another batch of entries had come in and it was time for her review them. She went through the documents that had been sent to the judges' group chat and shook her head. Of course, the first batch of entries were from the contestants that should have been booted since the beginning of the competition.

She sat back in her seat and thought carefully. What should she post on her status to strike fear into the minds of the contestants, to make them sit up? She knew that not all of them would be able to see it, but the ones who could would get the message. Suddenly, an idea came to her mind and Jane sat up.

"The way I'm already looking at these stories, shey we'll not just reconduct this round?" Jane pressed send and was about to drop her phone when it began to ring.

She sighed before picking it, "hello Acton."

"Hi Jane," Acton said cheerfully, "how are you doing?"

"I'm okay oh." Jane said with a huff. She knew exactly why Acton Bell was calling.

"Just wanted to remind you to be careful when giving the reviews oh," Acton said, "We don't want to give the contestants PTSD. I know that you're probably already vexing."

"I'll be fine, Acton," Jane said, "I'll let you know when I'm done."
"Alright," Acton replied, "bye, Jane."

Jane said goodbye before hanging up. Then, she tapped on the first document. Acton could warn her all she liked. She was Jane Austen, if she wasn't going to be blunt with the contestants, no one would.

Waterfall, whose serial number was 002, was the first contestant. Jane sat back in her chair and quietly read through the story. Halfway through, she sighed. These contestants, Jane knew that she would never understand them. Were they selectively blind? How could you type something so many times and still people wouldn't take note.

"Water fall," Jane typed, "did the water wash away your memory or something? How many times have I told you to fix your tenses? They matter, and when you mix past tense with present tense, your story comes out like rice mixed with eba- rubbish."

Jane made a few more comments about the story before moving on. She mentioned a few things about the paragraphing and lack of spacing and went through her review again. Overall, she felt that the story was okay for this round because it was a comedy round. The story had been funny, but a good sense of humour wasn't enough to win project pen.

Jane moved on to the document titled "The proud pencil 003" She read through it and nodded at a few things but wasn't really moved by the story. Jane resisted the urge to groan as she typed out her review, angry that her time had been wasted by this uncreative contestant.

"Oh, proud pencil, your story was so wonderful and interesting but I forgot to do one thing... laugh," she typed, "go to google or whatever search engine you use and type 'meaning of comedy' because I don't think you understand what it's all about. Your story was okay, apart from the few missing commas but it just wasn't funny. Do better."

After this, Jane dropped her phone in her lap and rubbed a hand across her face. Why had she taken this job again? Was it to help out the Wattnaija community? Was it because she'd taught that being a judge would be a breeze, since she'd done it before last year? Whatever the reason was, it certainly didn't matter now. She had to go through with this because she was most definitely not a quitter.

She took a look at another entry by contestant 005, The lead witch. Some of these contestants sha, maybe they didn't have anyone to help them out with their pen names. The proud pencil, the lead witch, Shelby the shellfish, what kind of names were those? Jane shook her head as she went through the next piece, trying her best not to get angry.

The story wasn't funny and the punctuations were terrible. It was almost like the lead witch hadn't received the instructions for this round. The only attempt at humour from her was the "vivid imagination" she had typed at the end. And later, people would go ahead and talk about how wicked Jane was but not about what had made her wicked.

"Yes, lead witch," Jane typed, "vivid imagination, just like your dreams of wining this competition."

Jane shook her head, that one was a little too harsh. She decided to tone it down a little.

"I don't even think I should give you a review. Ten thousand reviews from ten thousand judges would not be enough to help you, really. Why do you continue to disappoint me, lead witch? Or have the other witches kicked you out of the coven? Read the PDF, una no dey hear word. Don't expect me to have mercy when giving reviews."

Jane sucked in a deep breath before tapping on another document. It was written by contestant 008, Your toxic ex. Jane could already tell from the title "The moon that jumped over the cow" that there was something fundamentally wrong with the story.

She read it for a while and realized that the contestant had overdone it with the humour. After the girl had jumped off the earth and landed on Saturn, she suddenly realized that she could breathe fire as well. Then, she gets into a musical battle with vengeful space monkeys. The moon didn't even come in till the end of the story, and it literally just jumped for the fun of it.

"Just like your name, I cannot understand your story no matter how hard I try. No, for real, the math isn't mathing. What were you doing when you were writing this story? Did it have anything to do with a room full of laughing gas? There's too much humour, it's overpowering and it's hard to notice the good things about your story. "

Jane typed out some more corrections and dropped her phone on the table. She pushed her chair out and stood up. It was definitely time for a break and a good, long walk. Hopefully, she'd see one of the ice cream men when she went out. She was really craving some fan vanille right now. Maybe it'd boost her morale and give her the energy she needed to finish these reviews.

Quick disclaimer: Na play I dey play oh. I don't know any of the judges and I have nothing to do with them. Before I'll open my WhatsApp and see this message,

"The humble pen, you have been evicted from project pen. You have twenty-four hours to leave the group..."

Abeg, Abeg, I take God beg all of una. Thanks for reading sha.

031 PeanutButter

Prompt title : Double Mischief

Story entry:

Welcome to Remike 2023." One of the ushers welcomed us into the hall.

In my own opinion, sister Renike and brother Remilekun lack common sense. Why did they allow Iya'lagbon to choose the color for their wedding? Now the whole hall looks like a meeting of ajedudu and aje pupa.

{Black witches and red witches}

Iya'lagbon is our paternal great grandma. In her prime days, she sold fruits mainly coconuts hence the name Iya'lagbon - coconut seller.

The over hundred years old woman - that has refused to die or at least remain in the background - cried and whined until my elder sister, sister Renike agreed to go with the colors she suggested; red and black.

"Iya'lagbon," Radeyo, my twin brother said, "e gba'bi."

{Follow this way}

I laughed inwardly when I turned to see him pulling Iya'lagbon with him.

That would have been my fate - babysitting the strong headed Iya'lagbon. This morning while we were getting dressed, Baami said I was to keep an eye on Iya'lagbon all through the wedding ceremony but because - in Iya'lagbon's words - onibajel'omoRolayo yen, he assigned Radeyo to the task.

{Rolayo is a spoilt child}

I shook my head and walked further into the hall, bending my knees slightly almost every minute to greet the different relatives as I made my way to our assigned table.

Taking my seat, I pulled out one of the books that I had gotten from sister Renike's bride price list. When Maami convinced Baami so that Radeyo and I could add whatever we wanted in sister Renike's bride price list, we were over the moon. Radeyo saw it as an opportunity to buy valentine and Christmas gifts for all his numerous school girlfriends while I saw an opportunity to buy some of the books I had been reading in the community library for myself.

When brother Remilekun saw the books on the list, he laughed and said, "If I skip anything on this list, I will not skip Rolayo's books." He went on to grin in the handsome way he always did.

BrodaKasali - Baami's nephew and our cousin - made his way towards the family table, his black agbada sweeping the floor. He sat down and grinned. "Rolayo, see as everywhere is fine." He went on to praise Iya'lagbon's choice of color in his usual half baked English mixed with Yoruba. "Iya'lagbon have always have sense. I tell Renikel'ojo yen that the color will fine. Ab'ounko re?"

{I told Renike the other day that the color will be fine. Is this not it?}

I rolled my eyes at him. "BrodaKasali, can't you see that everybody is looking as if they are going for ipadeaje? The color is not fine oh."

{meeting of witches}

"Rolayo," Iya'lagbon said as she joined us on the table, "iwoatienu e yisha."

{You and your mouth}

Radeyo sat beside me and whispered. "Sister Renike said we should come outside when she calls us." I nodded, wondering what sister Renike had planned. Like myself, she was a very mischievous person.

Few minutes later, some men came into the hall and started spraying money even though the party had not started. BrodaKasali scrambled about in a bid to pick the money. Radeyo and I waited patiently until he was done.

All we had to do was divert his attention and we would picked the money off him. Since Iya'lagbon was as blind as a bat, she couldn't tell on us.

As predicted, he stuffed the new notes in his agbada pocket and sat down. Since Radeyo was closer to him, I was to distract him. "BrodaKasali, why didn't you bring your girlfriend?"

He looked at me. "Which of them? Khadijah abiMosun? Chioma? Abi Risial'agbo?" The men in my family and philandering. I shook my head at him and he laughed, completely oblivious to Radeyo's hands slipping in and out of his pocket. I continued making small talk with him until Radeyosignaled that he was done.

At that moment, BrodaKasali dipped his hands into his pockets. When his hands came out empty, he screamed.

"Ahh! My money!" He looked at Radeyo and I. "Which of you thief my money?" My twin brother and I exchanged frantic looks.

"Kasali, kiloseleto'npariwo?" Iya'lagbon asked and when he explained to her, she chuckled but said nothing.

{Why are you shouting?}

"Iya'lagbon, a n bo," Radeyo said and stood up before BrodaKasali could stop him. I followed suit and we ran out of the hall, laughing.

{We're coming}

"Has sister Renike called you?" I asked as soon as I caught my breath. "Why did she say we should come outside?"

"Too many questions," he frowned.

"This reception is for Iya'lagbon and her people. Sister Renike and Brother Remi got another hall for the main wedding reception.

I grinned. "You see why I like sister Renike."

His phone rang and he smiled before answering it. "Sister Renike, we're outside already." I didn't hear her response but he said, "we're waiting." He hung up and pocketed the phone.

"She said the driver is coming to pick us." I grinned.

"Radeyo! Rolayo! Come here oh! Where is my money?!" We turned to see BrodaKasali running towards us and almost tripping on his agbada. Radeyo looked at me, his eyes screaming just one word.

RUN!

Commentator:

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE JAMES HARDLEY CHASE

THEHUMBLEPEN 009

Creative, but definitely not what I was looking forward to. You tried, my facial expression didn't change from the very beginning up until the end of the story. If I could make a video of my face while reading this, you will have pity on me. Bottom line, this was creative, but not funny.

PEANUTBUTTER 031

This was okay, I found myself smiling a few times.

JUDGE JANE COREY

THEHUMBLEPEN, 009

Wahala for who be Jane Austen 🌚🌚

PEANUTBUTTER 031

Hmm...

JUDGE ACTON BELL

THEHUMBLEPEN, 009

Okay, HumblePen. Your story had me laughing. You must have really studied how the judges give reviews for you to be able to give those kinda descriptions. Your story was neat. And based on what I saw, you did go through the punctuation document. Please, applaud yourself for being one of the first contestants to actually follow these instructions.🤲🏽 I like your creativity, but you know, that thing you did at the end? Don't do that again. No. It was a big turn off. Tbh. I get that you were tryna be funny. But you should have ended it as a story, not as you telling us about yourself. Please take note, okay? That said, I like how your made effort to do something better. Keep it up.

PEANUTBUTTER 031

Peanut Butter, the only thing that would have almost made me laugh was the harmony of the witches' color theme and stuff. Black and Red stuff. You made a couple of mistakes with your dialogue punctuation. Overall sha, you did an okay job. But I didn't find it amusing.

JUDGE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

THEHUMBLEPEN 009

"Vvid imagination, just liketh thy dreams of winning this competition. "💀
this one hadst me totally. 😂 Wow, i might not but commend thee f'r this creative entry humblepen

"Vivid imagination, just like your dreams of winning this competition."💀
This one had me totally.😂 Wow, I must commend you for this creative entry Humblepen.

PEANUTBUTTER 031

God of m'rcy 😂 shebi t's r'd and black iya'lagbon wanteth, those gents gaveth h'r the readeth and black. Because who is't tf picks r'd and black as wedding colour?😭 only iya'lagbon doest yond. 😂
Thy entry wast very much valorous pignut buttocks'r. Kudos.

God of mercy 😂 Shebi it's red and black iya'lagbon wants, they gave her the read and black. Because who tf picks red and black as wedding colour?😭 Only iya'lagbon does that.😂
Your entry was really good Peanut Butter. Kudos.

JUDGE MAYA ANGELOU

THEHUMBLEPEN 009

While I applaud the creativity, the math in your story isn't matching as well. Your story isn't funny, rather mid honesty. The disclaimer at the end made my lips twitch, but that was it.

PEANUTBUTTER 031

I was smiling all through your story, but the pet that had me was when Radeyo said the bride and the groom rented another room for their reception. I laughed. I know Iya'lagbo will throw a tantrum or probably even finally die of heart attack when she hears about it.

JUDGE ARUNDHATI ROY

PEANUTBUTTER 031

You had the perfect ingredients to give us a badass masterpiece but you failed to just mix everything up properly so your entry was just there when it could have been everything and more.

THEHUMBLEPEN 009

Another really creative entry 😂 I love it, smiled all through.

JUDGE JK ROWLING

THEHUMBLEPEN 009

Omoh. Only one person here made me giggle a little. Who do I even start with? Okay, first off, PeanutButter... Omoh.

It dinur do sha o.

Please don't feel bad, I don't like making people feel bad and later they will call Jane Austen and randomly chip me in when giving example of harsh reviews.😂😭🤲🏾

I swear, I'm trying to be nice right now in this review, but I don't know where to start. To be very freaking honest, I didn't enjoy this work. It lacked the essence of comedy and it all seemed to desperate to want to pull it off. The end? Absolutely disastrous. And not in a good way. It all just seemed too disorganized. Chaos could be organized, for example, in the case of Delphinium's story, but this one at the end of your work was just weird.
Looked straight off something I would see off Disney and then hear that default chorus audience laughter when nothing is absolutely funny.

This is not to say that you are not a good writer. But maybe, comedy is not just your forte. Unfortunately, to pass this stage, you need to ace it. I hope you do ace this stage though. God help you.

PEANUTBUTTER 031

Meanwhile, TheHumblePen, I'll give it to you, your story was funny. It was not the most hilarious I have read so far in this stage, but yes, you made me cackle at intervals. The disclaimer at the end sent me off. All in all, it was an alright story. I guess I can consider it as an ace for this genre.

I think it's obvious at this point who has my vote.

JUDGE KAREN KINGSBURY

THEHUMBLEPEN 009
Your story was creative. I like creativity. You just wanted to make me laugh by force. The Jane reviews, I applaud, did the Job. But the interruption between (that's the other part of the story) was quite plain.

PEANUTBUTTER 031

Someone should draw this word out of my mouth/hand but that is what you people have pushed me too. When something is not what you want, you would look for other words to package it. Anyway, your story was creative. The setting, Yoruba accent in the speech, everything was well written. But it was not funny. It was amusing, yes, and might work very well in another stage.

But here's the thing, I don't want to twist my mouth in amusement. I don't want a smile to flicker on my lips. I want to laugh. Open mouth, cover it and LAUGH.

Commentator: Okay, let's meet our second pair.
Cribbers, we present to you...

011 Efin101 vs 030 Zoë

011 Efin101

Prompt title: Vivid imagination

Story entry:

7:30 am
it's a good thing Adebola was not searching for comedic relief because his co-workers had none to give him.

The Lagos sun that morning had passed its twinkling stage. Adebola, who had come early to work, had sensed the tension in the air immediately he set foot unto the threshold of the office he shared with three other colleagues. He had waved at them, putting on his best sugarcane smile, as always, but for some reason, their eyes didn't meet his.

Suckers.
Shortly after, he took his seat and proceeded to complete an editing job from one of his clients, Mr. Abba, a stout man with an overflowing belly. He was writing a story about 'Why Lagos Boys Are Always Violent', it was his second book after the first became a best seller in Nigeria. Adebolahad to give it to Mr. Abba.

The short man knew just the right nail to hit.
Adebola took pride in his job. Knowing he was part of the reason the book was a success brought him joy.As an editor, working in a reputable publishing company as Afrique Magazine, was a big deal, and so, he had took it upon himself to go on a five-day fast,so he could keep his job.

Halfway into the job - of vigorous line editing, choosing proper diction and eliminating unnecessary adjectives - Mrs. Fisayo, Head of Human Resource, walked into the office, a white envelope pinched between her long pink nails. Barbie ni?

Adebola's heart dropped to his stomach as Mrs. Fisayo approached his desk.
"Adebola, how are you this morning?"
Adebola sighed, he half knew what that envelope contained. The past few months, Afrique had been transferring 'hard workers' to anew branch, and Adebola had hope not to be among.

Those suckers! No doubt they acted weird when I greeted them. So I, was
one getting the transfer. I guess I'm a hard guy after all. Pun intended.

"I'm fine, if we pretend there is an AC in this office and I'm not about to get a transfer." Adebola grumbled, tapping his face with a paper napkin. "I will round up here and start packing."

******
2:pm
Adebola descended the stairs of the magazine house. The last box of accessories he had gathered from his office in his arms. His shirt clung to his skin from the two trips he had gone up the stairs. He never knew his tiny cubicle had stationaries enough to cram an entire boot of a car.

He tried not to ponder about how he would commerce work in new branch. All he wanted to do now, was todrive tohis favourite small chops spot and order some Akara and Pap and not to be held in traffic. Sometimes the Lagos traffic made Adebola visualize himselfas hard working, because he would leave the office by 7pm and got home at 9pm, all exhausted.
*****
4 pm
"Is this seat taken?"
Adebola looked up from his plate of Akara and his eyes met the kindestvoice he had ever heard. For a second he almost choked on the hot, mashed beans in his mouth, "No, no. You can have a seat."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, there aren't any emptier seats." The lady said, and took a seat.

"No problem." Adebola assured.
After,Adebola had finished his meal. He took out his wallet from his Nike bag, counted some cash from it, and stood up, about to exit the table.
"I'm going to become a lion tamer."

Adebola blinked for a second, not sure if he heard right or if the statement was directed to him.
"Are you talking to me?" Adebola's asked, fingers pointed to his chest.

"Yes. I said I'm going to become a lion tamer."

"That's crazy, in this Lagos or where? Do you know anything about lion taming?" Adebola questioned, as his forehead creased.
"Yes I do!" the lady retorted.
"Well, OK," Adebola took his seat,"Answer me this. When one of those lions comes at you all roaring and biting, what are you going to do?" Adebola questioned.
"I'll take that big chair lion tamers carry, and I'll stick it in his face until he backs down."
"Well, what if the lion takes his big paw, and hooks the chair with its big claws, and throws that chair out of the cage? What do you do then?"
"I'll take that whip that lion tamers carry, and I'll whip him and whip him until he backs down."
"Well, what if that lion bites that whip with his big teeth, and breaks it in two? What will you do then?" Adebola fired back.
"I'll take that gun that lion tamers carry, and shoot him."
"Well, what if that gun doesn't work? What will you do then?" Adebola asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
"I'll pick up some of the shit that's on the bottom of the cage, and I throw it in his eyes, and I run out of the cage."
"Well, what if there's no shit in the bottom of the cage? What are you going to do then?"
"You are not thinking clearly," the lady smiled,"Because if that lion comes at me, and he throws the chair out of the cage, and he bites my whip in two, and my gun doesn't work, there's going to be some shit on the bottom of that cage. My shit! You can bet on that!"

Adebola breaks into a fit of laughter. "My name is Ade, nice to meet you."

The End.

030 Zoë

Prompt title: The Misfit Tetrad.

Story entry:

The four culprits sat on the bench at the police station, handcuffed to each other's wrists.

Sly was cuffed to Soursop, who was cuffed to Butterfingers, who was cuffed to The Joker, the leader of the gang.

The detective starts the clip of the CCTV footage from the night the gang broke into the Adegbigbes' house.It showed the four of them pull up at the gate of the Adegbigbes' house in a red Mazda. Everyone got down except Soursop, the designated driver.Minutes in, he pulled out a bowl, poured in garri, groundnut, and sugar and started to eat, scrunching his face with every
bite.

The detective paused the clip to look in Soursop's direction, and he was scrunching his face yet again. "Why were you even frowning?" The detective asked. "I told the aboki that air had entered that groundnut, he said it's a lie." Salem Hassan, also known as Soursop answered coolly. The detective shook his head and played the video, and the view from the hallway showing the three walking into the master bedroom cued.

They looked around and The Joker set to work, trying to crack the walk-in safe. He opened it after a few tries and walked into the safe with Sly in tow, carrying sack bags.Butterfingers stayed back and positioned himself at the entryway of the safe, holding the door open.

It was quiet until Butterfingers saw the dog come into the room.The pitbull charged at Butterfingers, and in a mindless panic, he rushed away from the safe, slamming the door shut, with Sly and The Joker still inside.

The detective paused the clip to look at Butterfingers this time. Before he could say anything, Samantha Momodu, also known as Sly, the only female in the ragtag group of friends, yelled. "Shebi you can see what you caused, Butterfingers? Ordinary door, you cannot hold. See your life outside." She says, gesticulating wildly, causing Soursop to grunt loudly in protest from being pulled around by her hand that was cuffed to his. "You cannot even jump a fence, we say you should hold the door at least with your big body. You no fit do that one. Mtchewww." She finished with an eye roll.

Barido Idoniboye, nicknamed Butterfingers, the biggest of the three men, was sitting at the end of the bench, looking straight ahead, ignoring Sly's jab.

The detective resumed the video, and Butterfingers was running around the office, the dog in hot pursuit.He jumped on the table and the pressure from his weight cracked the glass top. "Help o. Tahh. Which kind dog be this one? Una no tell me say them get dog o." Butterfingers yelled.

The dog barked furiously at Butterfingers, bumping the table hard each time. Soursop ran into the room to see the reason for the commotion and became the dog's new target.

He scrambled to enter the closet and hid, while Butterfingers used the opportunity to run out of the room. He ran straight to the getaway car parked outside.The door was open, and the key was in the ignition.He ran in and tried to start the car but the car sputtered and wouldn't start.

The dog barked at Butterfingers through the glass while he made funny faces at it. The detective paused the video to look at Butterfingers and Soursop again. "How come the car didn't start?" He asked Soursop.

"Sly been talking say these guys get fuel for their house, so I just said that ah, okay. When we take money finish, we take fuel." Soursop answered.

"So where is the money we gave you for fuel?" The Joker finally spoke, his question directed at Soursop.

"The garri na."

"You used four thousand to buy garri?" The Joker half yelled.

"The rest of the garri dey boot. Calm down abeg." Soursop answered, his frown still plastered on his face.

The video continued and showed Soursop coming out of the closet.He locked the door to the room and went to the table where he picked up a piece of paper from the table and started laughing hysterically.

The detective paused the video again and looked at the gang.Everyone was looking at Soursop, wide-eyed.

"Wetin happen?" Soursop asked them.

"Why did you laugh like that?" The detective asked.

"Oh. The man's name on the paper was Oluwajobaninuogbagethsemanemi Adegbigbe." He said, laughing again.Sly and Butterfingers started snickering.

"Everyone calls him Mr Joba." The detective said, smiling and resuming the clip. Soursop was seen looking around the table, then he pressed a button and started looking around.A few minutes later, the police were seen breaking down the door to the room.

The clip ended. The detective sat on his swivel chair and faced the four members. To Soursop, he asked, "When you pressed that button, what did you expect?"

"I don't know mehn. Maybe the door to the vault for open or something. They said to press the button in case of an emergency. Na serious emergency we dey that time na." He answered.

"Anyways, we got the alert from Mr Joba's house and we rushed there immediately. We found this one-" the detective said, pointing at Butterfingers, "-sleeping inside the car. We got these two-" he pointed at Sly and The Joker, "-sleeping inside the safe." "Safe that was empty like mad. Mtchew. No money sef." Sly answered.

"This is the fifth time you guys have tried to break into this house, and Soursop, you keep pressing that same button. It's a wonder how you guys keep escaping from the mental home to start with. That is quite impressive, I must say." The detective said to them, laughing.

He stood up to answer the knock at his door. Four white-clad nurses walked in and started to escort all four gang members out. "Miss Samantha, please keep away from the company of these men so you can get better quicker. They're just mischievous people." The detective said to Sly.

Turning to Soursop and Butterfingers, he said "Salem and Barido, Abeg, I'm tired of seeing you guys, please. Stop stealing your nurses' cars and try to get better so you can go home soon."

Finally, to The Joker, he said "Maybe next time, try to rob someone else's house and not your own, Mr Joba. If you miss your house so damn much, then get better. Goddamit." The detective said laughing and waving the nurses away with his right hand.

The nurses led all four out of the police station and back to the mental home.

Commentator: I have my thoughts😂 but let's hear from our judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE KAREN KINGSBURY

011 Efin101.

Gosh! This was so funny! The Barbie line part, pun intended line, lion tamer - Ah! You got me. Very funny.

Is that what you were expecting to see? I'm sure not. 'Cause you sef know wetin you write.

030 Zoë

Yes! Yes!

Okay, I laughed. I liked it from the beginning with the way you wrote it, I could perfectly picture it play out. Perfectly. I like SourSop abeg. 😹 He had a distinct personality. The detective pausing and turning to them also gave off this comical effect and the font you used for it? Again, perfect.

However, the space in between was too much and the part of you mentioning the detective was laughing/laughed almost reduced how humorous it was to me.

Apart from that, nice build up. Chop knuckle abeg.

JUDGE ARUNDAHTI ROY

011 Efin101.

Not funny.

030 Zoë

Not really funny but it's still okay. The plot twist of the men being psychiatrist patients got me 😂❤️

JUDGE JK ROWLING

011 Efin101

Efin, in the beginning, you didn't grab me to be honest o. But the dialogue about taming lions saved your work a little, I guess. It was a bit too much, yes, but I like that it goes with your entire plot and doesn't look forced. So, yes, you did a fairly okay job. However, okay is not enough.

030 Zoë.

Zoë? Come and take kiss abeg, because wtf, you nearly sent me to the ER. 😂😂😂 Your work was funny at every literal line. All the characters absolutely murdered me. From Soursop and his garri. To the fat dude who locked Sly and Joker in the safe. To the stupid fool that pressed the emergency button in the house that they were robbing!😂😂😂 Then, what? The Joker robbing his own house? They're all mentally unstable?? Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant! Nah, Zoë, you OUTDID yourself in this stage. Like, a lot! From taking all the notes on punctuations to the neat work and clean organisation.

And then, top it off, you nailed the theme and wrote possibly the funniest story for this stage! You tried abeg!🔥

JUDGE WILLIAMS SHAKESPEARE

0

11 Efin101

I did start reading, bethinking i'll seeth the comedy as i readeth furth'r. I readeth furth'r and hath kept on reading furth'r, but nothing. Then t finally cameth at the endeth, but the comedy wasn't comedying.

I started reading, thinking I'll see the comedy as I read further. I read further and kept on reading further, but nothing. Then it finally came at the end, but the comedy wasn't comedying.

030 Zoë

Ahhhhhhhh😂😂😂😂 first of all, garri of 4k??😭 four thousand naira groc'ries!😂😭 Zoe, taketh chill'd groc'ries with sweetn'rs and floating b'rries jareeee. Because this wast very much valorous, i wonneth't forswear. The parteth w're soursop did press the em'rgency button himself. I bethought those gents w're just mr bean kind of fartuous, until the detective mention'd those folk being mental patients. 😂 Valorous job zoe!✨

Ahhhhhhhh😂😂😂😂 First of all, garri of 4k??😭 Four thousand naira groceries!😂😭 Zoe, take chilled groceries with sweetners and floating berries jareeee. Because this was really good, I won't lie. The part were soursop pressed the emergency button himself. I thought they were just Mr Bean kind of silly, until the detective mentioned them being mental patients.😂 Good job Zoe!✨

JUDGE ACTON BELL.

011 Efin101.

"The Lagos Sun that morning had passed its twinkling stage..." Ehn? What on earth is that statement?😂 I'm sorry, ko ye mi. Boya, you'd like to explain it.

Here's another banger; "So he had took it upon himself..." Took bawo?😂 Was it a typo? Tell me. Was it? It's supposed to be "taken".

Come, Efin, you no dey edit?😂😂 What is going on with your grammar? Are all these blunders just mistakes? Or are they part of your comedy?😂 I am absolutely mesmerised, Efin.😂 Omo. "His eyes met the kindest voice"? So, we dey see voice now?😂 I don't understand you, Efin. What the actual heck happened to you in this stage? Omo. And on top of all these errors, the comedy no kon comedy.😂😂😂 What is making me laugh is the fact that the story was not funny. Efin dear, you need to work on your grammar (seriously, because this one don pass typos, haba), your punctuation, and your ability to remain consistent. Thank you, next!😂😂

030 Zoë.

Awww, Zoeeee. You made me laugh this time around.😂😂😂😂😂 Oh my dayssss.😂 And the endinggggg! The ending, mehnnn. I loved your story.😂 Okay, okay. Let's get a few things out of the way. You messed up your dialogue punctuation and use of tenses. I don already talk say I no wan repeat this thing again. Omo. 🥲 Please and please, take note. And try to correct these, okay? Good. Applaud yourself, Zoe. You did good.🌚

JUDGE MAYA ANGELOU

011 Efin101.

No. No. Didn't crack me up one bit. Everything was just too serious. The lion tamer thing didn't even help matters.

030 Zoë

Being a Yoruba person myself and understanding how common it is for parents name their kids very horrendous name, Oluwajobaninuogbagethsemani had me rolling 😂. That man will definitely hate his parents for life.
And wait, they are all mentally deranged 😂😭.

JUDGE JANE CORRY

0

11 Efin101

Please what is this? 😒

030 Zoë

What the fuck did I read? The aggressive eating of Garri got me rolling 😂😂😂. Why the freak would you rob your own house? Na so the madness take reach?

JUDGE JAMES HARDLEY CHASE

011 Efin101

Hian was the exact word that escaped my mouth after reading this work. If the lion tamer thing was plotted to get a funny reaction from the readers, biko it only worsened it.

Subconsciously we write something that cracks readers up without knowing.

Here are tips I got from the Internet.
Know your audience, know your comedy.

A good place to start when it comes to writing something comedic is to immerse yourself in the world of comedy.
Writing comedy isn't easy. Many authors struggle to place humor so it sits naturally and unobtrusively within a story.

How to Use Humour in Stories:
Character, situation, dialogue. If you give your characters a sense of humour - particularly the central character whose viewpoint you are likely to be writing from - their voice can add a comedic tone to the story in a natural way.

For example, they might make funny observations about events, the situation or other characters and use amusing synonyms.

The situations characters find themselves in can be amusing. This is often used very successfully in sitcoms.
What characters say and how they react to what is said can be very funny. Dialogue is the method I use most frequently to add humour into a story.

030 Zoë

I smiled when he said "so I just said that ah, okay. When we take money finish, we take fuel"

This didn't exactly do justice to the theme, but you tried, Also the plot twist at the end was good.

Commentator: With a clapping ovation, let's welcome the third pair.

013 TheMiniAsthete vs 027 Phoenix

013 TheMiniAsthete

Prompt title: RUSH HOUR RECKONING

Story entry:

Ah, the chaos of my life perfectly reflected in the state of my apartment as I rush around in a panic. You see, today marks the day of my first job interview after surviving the rollercoaster that was NYSC, and my house seems to be celebrating the occasion by mirroring my internal disarray.

Clothes are strewn across the couch like they're having a party, and the pile of mismatched shoes by the door is giving me the judgmental side-eye. Oh, and let's not forget the kitchen sink, which seems to have transformed into a mountain of unwashed dishes that I swear were clean just a day ago. If only my transformation into a responsible adult was as rapid as my descent into chaos.

In the midst of this organized mess (because, let's be honest, there's an art to creating such chaos), I stand, disoriented but determined. The irony is not lost on me-after months of regimented routines during NYSC, I now find myself scrambling like a headless chicken on what should be a milestone day.

As I frantically search for a semi-presentable outfit among the sea of clothes, I can't help but roll my eyes at my own predicament. Life has a funny way of testing your preparedness just when you think you've got it all figured out.

With a hasty attempt to tame my unruly hair and a quick swipe of concealer to mask the evidence of sleepless nights, I step back to survey the situation. My apartment still looks like a tornado had a wild night in it, but I'm ready to embrace the chaos with an unhealthy dose of wit and sarcasm.

As I'm about to dash out of my apartment, I'm met with a sudden realization that I can't find my keys. Of course, because why should today be any different from the mess that preceded it? After a frantic search that could rival a treasure hunt, I finally locate them buried under the pile of clothes I deemed unworthy of my interview debut.

Keys in hand and a last-minute glance around my disaster zone of a living room, I'm out the door and on the street, adrenaline pumping. The next challenge? Navigating through the streets to catch that elusive Danfo bus.

Just as I hit the pavement, a chorus of voices echoes in the air, each vying for attention. "Ikeja! Ikeja!" The conductor's shout slices through the urban symphony like a beacon guiding lost souls. The urgency in his voice only adds to the sense of impending doom. I quicken my pace, my heart pounding in rhythm with the chaos around me.

"Come with your 250 change!" he bellows, as if the whole world depends on it. I fumble in my bag, frantically digging for the right amount as I rush towards the bus. There's a subtle beauty in the synchronized chaos-each passenger a cog in the machine, moving with a sense of purpose that defies the surrounding madness.

And then, just when I'm almost there, I collide with someone who seems to have mastered the art of not acknowledging collisions. Not even a mumbled 'sorry' as I regain my balance.

As I jostle my way through the crowd, I steal a glance at the conductor, who seems to be part traffic controller, part ringmaster of this chaotic circus. I feel a surge of determination-missing this bus is not an option. Not today. Not when my interview hangs in the balance.

Because in this whirlwind of bodies and voices, in this symphony of disorder, I am not just another passenger. I am a contender in a race against time, fueled by the desire to prove that even in the midst of this frenzy, I can emerge victorious. My eyes lock onto the open door of the bus, and I take a deep breath, ready to plunge headfirst into the ultimate test of urban survival.

As I finally reach the bus, a mix of relief and urgency courses through my veins. My eyes fixate on the interior, my gaze zeroing in on the precious vacant seat that stands as a beacon of hope in the chaos. But just as I take a step towards it, a force pushes against me, and I find myself locked in a silent battle of wills with the very same person who had collided with me earlier.

Our eyes lock in a moment of mutual understanding-that seat is the key to salvation. I can practically see the determination radiating from him, matching my own. But I've had enough of being pushed around today. My sense of humor and sarcasm have been well-tested, and now it's time to put on my assertive face.

"You really like bumping into people, don't you?" I remark, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I stare him down. My mind races to come up with the wittiest retort, but before I can, he counters, "Well, maybe you should work on your balance."

Oh, it's on.

I narrow my eyes at him, the adrenaline from our earlier encounter fueling my irritation. "Oh, please! I was walking just fine until you decided to bulldoze your way through."

He crosses his arms, a smirk playing at his lips. "Bulldoze? You make it sound like I'm a wrecking ball."

I roll my eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at wit. "Well, you certainly have a talent for causing collisions."

His smirk widens into a full-fledged grin. "Maybe I should consider a career change then."

The audacity of his response sends a surge of anger through me, and I can feel my sarcasm bubbling up. "Oh, I'm sure the demolition industry would welcome you with open arms."

He lets out a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, if I'm ever short on options, I'll be sure to give them a call."

I shake my head in disbelief, my annoyance reaching new heights. "You do that. Just make sure to warn everyone to clear the area."

His laughter only serves to stoke the flames of my frustration. "Of course, wouldn't want to cause any accidents."

I take a step closer, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I think we've had enough accidents for one day, don't you?"
He raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his gaze. "Are you suggesting it's my fault?"

"Let's just say, your talent for collision isn't going unnoticed," I retort, a smirk of my own playing on my lips.

His eyes flash with amusement, his grin unrelenting. "Well, someone's got to keep you on your toes."

A war of words ensues, each insult and comeback more creative than the last. The intensity of the argument is both exhilarating and maddening, like a verbal sparring match that neither of us is willing to lose. We're so engrossed in our verbal duel that we fail to notice the bus vibrating beneath our feet.

Reality crashes down on us like a ton of bricks. The bus is moving-no, it's leaving. A surge of panic shoots through me as I watch the bus pull away, my heart sinking along with it. The absurdity of our argument, the time wasted, it all hits me like a freight train.

"Oh, fantastic! Just great!" I exclaim, my voice laced with annoyance and frustration. My hands fly to my hips in exasperation, and I shoot a glare at my newfound verbal sparring partner.

He rolls his eyes, clearly sharing my exasperation. "Could you not have picked a better time for an argument?"

"Likewise!" I snap back, irritation dripping from my words. The irony of the situation isn't lost on me-we fought over a seat that neither of us will get to enjoy now.

As we stand there, both flustered and defeated, the absurdity of the situation becomes almost comical. I let out a frustrated huff, a mixture of disbelief and anger coursing through me. This was supposed to be my day, my chance to prove myself at my first ever job interview, and now I'm left standing on the curb, like a character in a poorly scripted sitcom.

With an annoyed glance at the now-empty space where the bus used to be, I mutter, "Well, congratulations. We managed to outdo ourselves."

"Well," he says, finally breaking the silence, "I guess we can both agree that we're officially late now."

I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Late doesn't even begin to cover it."

027 Phoenix

Prompt title: TEENAGE LOVE.

Story entry:

"Today is finally the day."

"What day? The day you finally stop cuddling your teddy bear in your sleep?" my best friend, Delilah, asks with a laugh over the phone as I comb through my hair.

"Don't judge me when you still run to your older brother's room at the sound of thunder," I retort.

"I stopped doing that last week, Funmi, and I'm fifteen. These things are normal," she says. I roll my eyes even though she can't see me.

"Anyway, it's the day I finally ask Senior Daniel if he wants to hangout," I say, and run my eyes over my outfit with a smile. Perfect.

"This is slowly leading to an obsession, Funmi," she says for the umpteenth time.

"For the last time, it is not," I say, grabbing the phone from the bed.

"Let's look at the facts. You stalked him on social media the first day he resumed-" she starts, and I hear shuffling in the background.

"To be fair, there wasn't much to see," I interrupt.

"You also went to his house and introduced yourself to his sister as 'his future girlfriend'," she says.

"Okay, that was very stupid, but she saw me through the window and I panicked," I say with a huff.

"And let's not talk about the love letters," she says and I canliterally imagine her rolling her big doe eyes.

"It was one letter, and I didn't even give it to him," I defend.

"That's because I stopped you from embarrassing the both of us. You're welcome."

"I can't argue with you on an empty stomach," I say and hang up.

There's nothing 'obsessive' about what I'm doing. When you love someone,you'll do anything for them. Including writing poems about them.

Delilah is just overreacting. An hour later, I'm staring up at the black gate standing in between me and Daniel's house with a confident smile. He wouldn't be able to resist me. Not with how I'm looking.

I push through the gate and make my way tothe front door. It swings open before I even have time to knock. The tall,dark-skinned boy that answers the door looks at me like I just escaped fromthe zoo.

"Are you lost?" he asks, and I struggle to keep my smile in place.

"I'm here to see Daniel."

"Are you sure you're not in the wrong place?" he asks again and my smile completely falls.

"I'm sure."

"Come in," he says and steps aside.

"Do you think...maybe...don't you think you should visit the bathroom before he comes down? There's a mirror right in front of the sink so you can be thorough," he says, gesturing to my face.

"Excuse me? I don't even know you," I yell.

"I'm David, Daniel's cousin. Now, wash off whatever is on your face.It's hideous," he says.

"I'm not wiping it off. I spent an hour on this," I say.

"An hour?" he asks with a laugh.

"Guy, what is your deal?" I ask through gritted teeth. I'm going to get into serious trouble for stealing my mom's makeup so, I should at least geta compliment.

He takes a seat on the black leather couch and I join him.

"You obviously used the wrong shade of foundation. Your white shirt has smudges on the collar and your eyes have black circles around them. Do you not own a mirror? How old are you?" he asks, trying to keep a serious face.

"Age is just a useless figure," I reply indignantly. Daniel walks down the steps and I stand up. When he notices me, he staggers and stops at thefoot of the stairs.

"Funmi."

"You remembered my name? Let's go upstairs and talk in private," I say,coming to his side.

"Your face is going to give me nightmares. Can you move a bit?" he asks, already stepping away from me. I glare at David when he bursts into laughter.

"Let's go," I say and tug him up the stairs, but I miss a step and endup falling backwards. He's going to catch me. I know he will. But he does't. He steps out of the way and I roll down the four steps we climbed.

"You should have caught me," I cough out once I'm back on my feet.

"Danny's future girlfriend," Daniel's sister yells as she comes down the stairs.

"God forbid" Daniel quickly exclaims and they burst out laughing.

"I already have a girlfriend, Jessica," he corrects her and I stare at him indisbelief.

He has a what? Who is it? I endured extreme embarrassment to hear this?

"No, she's-" Jessica starts again, but I cut her off.

"I'm leaving. It's been a very...interesting afternoon" I say. I should at least leave with the dignity I have left. That's if I still have any left.

I grab my purse and walk out the door, kicking myself in the leg because I'll be the one having nightmares of what will happen Monday morning.

Commentator: Let's see our Judges thought on these.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE KAREN KINGSBURY

013 The.mini.aesthete.

You and your competitor have something in common. Your starting is stronger than your finish. And a weak finish is like cooking food, pouring all the ingredients inside and at the last moment you now add too much water. What happens to the food? Exactly.
Unrelated, I like the tone of your work. It was light and might blend perfectly well in a romcom. There was a slip up with subject verb agreement somewhere in your work.

Oh, and, you wrote something about the 'Bus vibrating beneath our feet' and then the next thing the Bus is zooming off and she's outside 'the bus' watching it? Which bus? So she was never inside? One moment she's inside, the next she's out. It's not adding up.
I hate plot holes. And you overused some words. What did 'Chaos' do to you? Beacon?

On top everything, you now missed the comedy road. Too much water, I tell you.

027 Phoenix

Don't worry, just keep writing, you'll eventually get the meaning of comedy and maybe learn how to end what you started well.

JUDGE ARUNDAHTI ROY

027 Phoenix.

To start with, only two people are even a confession so you repeating "...she says, ...I interrupts, ....she starts, ...I defend" after one of them says something is really repetitive and amateurish and it already made me bored from the beginning.

Thankfully, you were able to switch things right afterwards and especially with the introduction of Daniel's character. He's such a terribly funny character ️ and what the fuck is Funmi's problem?

Okay, that's an overall impressive story.

013 The mini aesthete.

You're a good writing, descriptions, dialogue, and emotions are all on point. Punctuations too, well with the exception of you using a full stop instead of a comma in most places.

For instance:
"His eyes flash with amusement, his grin unrelenting. "Well, someone's got to keep you on your toes.""

After relenting, we should have a comma instead of a full stop because the whole of that paragraph is just a continuous description. You made this mistake in all similar places too.

Your writing is impressive but it did not really do justice to the theme. It wasn't that funny or comical to me.

JUDGE JK ROWLING

Omoh. Comedy isn't comedy-ing o. But you see, one of these works managed to make me put a smile on my face. So, yeah, I guess I have already made my choice on who is winning this round.

JUDGE WILLIAMS SHAKESPEARE

013 The.mini.aesthete.

puts on glasses and begins to searcheth f'r the humeth'r in this entry.

Puts on glasses and begins to search for the humor in this entry.

027 Phoenix.

Funmi, funmi. The kind of mind this wench hast, I couldstnev'r. I cring'd on behalf of funmi, because what the heck wast the lady doing? I did laugh a dram sha.

Funmi, Funmi. The kind of mind this girl has, I could never. I cringed on behalf of Funmi, because what the heck was she doing? I laughed a little sha.

JUDGE ACTON BELL

013 The.mini.aesthete.

Wordy. Just too wordy. Even if you wanted to use words to make us laugh, sister Mini, this ain't the way. Habanau.

Sha, I'll commend your consistent use of present tense and good punctuations. Apart from that, sister Mini, I no laugh. I'll leave the rest of the corrections to the other judges. Thank you.

027 Phoenix.

Okay, Phoenix. Wasn't my exact idea of comedy, but I did laugh a little. I must also commend your good use of punctuations and tense consistency. You did okay sha. Nice.

JUDGE MAYA ANGELOU

013 The.mini.asthete.

Was the collision talk meant to be the comic pet of your story, because I don't seem to get it. And for someone that's late, the character seemed to have enough time to hold a conversation about collision.

Very productive by the way (note the sarcasm and cue the eye roll)

027 Phoenix.

I know you probably didn't mean it, but the first funny thing about your story was the irony of the name Delilah. Do you really think a parent... a Nigerian parent... a Nigerian Christian parent would name their kid after the "devilish" woman of biblical times?

And omo, I was embarrassed for Funmi. I mean, your story is rather cliché, but I think that's what make makes it even funnier. There was no unnecessary exaggeration.

JUDGE JANE COREY

The.mini.aesthete.

Hmm...

027 Phoenix.

Did the comedy theme enter your head that you forgot your puntuations or what? I laughed oo, I really did, but small especially when Daniel exlaimed Godforbid

JUDGE JAMES HARDLEY

The.mini.aesthete.

The story didn't do justice to the theme at all.

027 Phoenix.

I laughed and did enjoy the story. It was cliché and all that, but a good read.

Commentator: Finally, the last pair of this batch. We have with us...

014 Bema vs 026 ThatGirl

014 Bema

Story entry:

Looking back, I remembered moments when I couldn't resist giving in to habits I had been cautioned against. In those days, my innocent appearance deceived many, hiding the side of me that would later shock people. No one would have thought that I was capable of these body counts at nineteen knowing the background I come from.

My religious parents needed to never find out about the guys I used to sneak in after school hours, particularly my mom. She always spoke with an excessive sense of pride about the "good traits" she believed I had inherited from her, especially when her friends were present.

"My daughter would never," she would boast every time news of misdeeds by another child circulated throughout the neighborhood. I was held up as an exemplar, a model for others to emulate, yet the secrets concealed beneath my outward appearance would have filled her with shame.

My dad, who was a Pastor, couldn't be excluded from this situation. In his sermons, he never failed to express gratitude to God for the type of daughter he had - one who was kind, not troublesome, and holy. The mention of that last word made me uncomfortable whenever I thought about it; it just didn't feel right to associate it with me. We couldn't be fittingly described in the same sentence.

This one time, I invited Femi to my place, one of those guys interested in me which I had to take advantage of. His dirty texts at night sent me into a realm of a thousand fantasies. I needed to see the look on his face when I ride him in pleasure. Knowing my parents weren't at home that weekend, I made use of that opportunity.

He didn't even saunter into my room when he pushed me to my bed. The smirk he had on his face made me want him more than ever and he didn't waste time with it.

In one thrust, he was inside me. I let out a soft moan but that sweet feeling didn't settle. He increased his pace, pushing in and out of me continuously as he sent me out of balance.

My eyes made contact with my Bible which was on my bed and instantly I panicked. In guilt, I turned my eyes away. I couldn't imagine the look on God's face as he was seeing me sinning with this boy.

"Jesu mabinu oo," I closed my eyes and pleaded for mercy in my mind but Femi thought I was about to orgasm.

"Moan my name. Call me daddy," Femi kept saying then paused to kiss my neck before getting back at it. I was trying to repent for my sin but he had to be the Devil's vessel.
"Let this boy quickly finish," I pleaded again in my thoughts, trying not to respond to the pleasure I was enjoying. "I'll beg for forgiveness after I'm done." Not long before my conscience started to hunt me.

"Ife! Ife! You pushed your Bible down because of knacks. Imagine if you die right now, what will you tell God? Oya mu Bible yen ni le," these thoughts kept me undisturbed before I jumped out of bed, picked up the Bible, and rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

"I'm sorry, God," I wept profusely, holding the Bible to my chest. "I'll not do this again."

Femi was left perplexed. He stood behind the door, too stunned to speak. The drama happening had him wondering what kind of situation he had entered at that point.
"Baby, what's going on?" He asked, having his erect member facing my view. "Bosibi jẹ ka se kini now."

My face squeezed and my lips turned down in disgust at his words. I didn't make it difficult for the room to be read knowing my feelings were all over the place.

"Ogbeni, oya, oya wear your clothes and get out of here," I ran my hand through my hair, angling it slightly to the left, subtly indicating the direction where his clothes were.

Still battling my shame in the bathroom, he dropped a slight peck on my left cheek. "See, I understand," his voice grew soft, "but we have started this thing. Why don't we finish it then we both ask for forgiveness?"

"Now I know you're the Devil's agent," I lashed out at him while carrying the weight of regret before asking him to leave for the second time which he obeyed.

I got on my knees in tears, praying and begging God to have mercy on me. My eyes remained closed and my hands pressed together. You won't know how prayerful you could be until you enter a complicated situation.

"Oh God," I took a deep breath. The flashback of this sinful act interrupted my prayers, making me start again and again till it became a repeated cycle for five minutes.

"Satan, ma koba mi now. Please, I beg you," I took a switch in my prayers, thinking if I begged the problem to let me go, I would be able to atone for my sins but nothing changed.

Another five minutes into it, those memories came flashing back till I decoded Femi's words. Maybe we should have finished our deeds before begging God for his mercy.

I reached for my phone and dialed his number and while it rang, guess who was standing before me. I was shocked he didn't leave. His smirk gave his intentions away which confirmed he was sent by the devil.

No words were said as we looked at each other. He grabbed me hard and rushed me with kisses, turning us on. His clothes were off within seconds, throwing me on the bed before my sight went blank.

The next thing I saw after this was myself on the hospital bed, having bandages all over my head. Apparently, I hit my head so hard when he threw me on the bed. I didn't think twice before rededicating my life to God. I won't be known as that girl who died in the act of fornication.

026 ThatGirl

Story entry:

Everyone stares on at the male figure walking down the street. Some find the sight funny while others cannot help but shake their heads in pity. A man feels nothing but annoyance at the sight though and the loud hiss escaping his lips attests to this fact. It is quite hilarious and utterly ridiculous to see a man with a baby at this time of the night. No, the child is not the issue; there is a baby sling round his chest holding the child in place before him. It seems strange; someone, a man carrying a baby around late in the night.

"This man na one of the reasons why society no dey value men again, tufia!" The same man who had hissed earlier spits out, the disgust glaring in his tone. "See as e be like pesin wey geh belle." People around him begin to laugh at this and he joins them almost immediately. They laugh so hard one of them falls to the ground clutching his belly and writhing as if in pain. He is in actual pain but the others seem oblivious to this.
James walks on, ignoring people stares on him and their mocking laughter, all that matters to him right now is to please his wife. Nkechi had sent him out of the house with their baby to go get Ice-cream for her at the store. They'd retired to bed less than two hours ago and the next thing he knew, she was tapping him and crying, saying something about craving ice-cream and how they weren't going to have peace if her craving wasn't met. Her postpartum tantrums were even worse than it was during pregnancy. Nkechi blames everything on him, she never wanted a baby so early into their marriage. According to her, he put her into this mess and so, has to face the consequences that come with it.

Taking a bend at the end of the street, James groans out in frustration. The only store closest to their house is closed for the day. He cannot go back, his wife will lock him out of the house or worse starve him throughout tomorrow (the list is endless). The next store he knows is a forty-five minute drive from their residence, he has to go back home to pick up his car. He loves Nkechi so much and will do anything, absolutely anything for her.

A couple of minutes later, he's in his car with the baby securely strapped in the passenger's seat. The next store is in sight and this makes him happy, his wife will finally get what she wants and maybe he'll get to have a peaceful night rest. Parking by the side of the road, James alights then starts to cross the deserted street, little Angel is asleep, he doesn't want to wake her up. Moving towards the door, he can see through the translucent surface, they are about to close for the day. This is his cue. James dash towards the door, almost crashing into it.

"We're closed, come back tomorrow." The store owner's voice is curt with a hint of strain in it. After taking some time to catch his breath, James looks up.

"You can't be closed please, what I need to get is very urgent."

"I'm so sorry sir, we can't sell anything again." The woman picks up her bag and it's at this point James knows he has to do something. Leaping forward and clutching onto her arm, he stares at her with a look of plea. He seems desperate, he is desperate.

"I'll pay whatever amount you ask, even double. Abeg."

"What do you even want to buy by this time of the night sef?"

"Ice-cream, strawberry flavour." The woman is staring at him with amusement in her eyes.

"For yourself?"

"No, it's for wifey." Her question seems funny to him for unknown reasons. "Even my dead mother would not have me out at this time." The woman shakes her head in realisation and slight pity. She is familiar with their kind, these type of men. They are usually the wife in their marriages and hold no authority. Poor guy.

He is soon out of the store with the packaged item in his hold. He starts to cross the road but then, he hits his foot against a stray stone causing him to trip and fall down on his face. He stands up almost immediately and dusts his clothes, happy that no one was in sight to see his embarrassment. As long as the content of the package in his hands don't spill, he is totally fine.

He is almost near his car when he start to hear voices, they sound like a group of people whispering but then, he ignores them. After dropping the package in the passenger's seat from the windshield, he starts to move towards the other side when something strikes him. The baby. She is no longer there.
Fear grips him all of a sudden as different wild thoughts begin to run through him. He wonders what must have happened to her and the mere thought only heightens his fear.

Where on earth is his child?

Dashing towards the driver's side, James hear shrieks followed by hearty laughter. Three kids clad in their nightwear are behind his car. They seem identical with the same look and mischievous smile on.

"Uhm, did you kids see any baby inside this car?" He doesn't care less about about what they are doing here, all that matters to him is the whereabouts of his child. The children shake their heads towards the negative at the same time, they then begin another round of laughter. It's probably due to how ridiculous he looks with sand and dirt stains all over his cloth.

They keep staring at the package in his hands and he is almost tempted to hand it over to them but then, the image of Nkechi smothering him comes to mind. He almost shudder at this, he really is scared of her. He feels like a fool in front of the children. They're making fun of him but he doesn't take it to heart, he won't do anything to some unknown mischievous kids.

"Did any of you see anyone around here?" He asks again, taking a step forward. They clap excitedly at this, releasing another round of laughter before scurrying away. He cannot help but wonder what made them so excited. Kids and being silly.
James quickly analyse the situation on ground and it makes him gulp audibly. This is bad. Where is little Angel? His worry heightens thinking about what his wife will do to him and tears sting his eyes. She would kill him (literally) then use his skin as a fancy robe. Trying to take a step forward, James realises his feet is stuck. This was exactly what those kids were excited about; him falling victim of their prank. It takes sometimes to pull off his footwear from the glue they'd splattered on the ground but he finally does it.

James straightens with a lot running through his mind. He is clueless on what to do and the options are obviously limited; try asking around or make a complaint at the police station. Going back home isn't part of it and he doesn't consider the idea. Heaving out a tired sigh, he goes back inside the car.

Thoroughly exhausted and worn-out two hours later, James pull up at the front of his house and switches off the ignition. His search is futile and little Angel still isn't with him. Raising his fists to knock, they stop midway as the door suddenly flies open. His mother-in-law appears in front of him with the same child he'd been searching for sleeping peacefully in her arms.

"Are you a father like this eh? Tell me, are you? I was coming to your house when I saw your car by the road. What if something had happened to the child? What would you have said?" She gives him no room to explain himself before storming inside. James exhales, he doesn't even know if he should feel relief or otherwise.

The day cannot get any worse at least.

He enters the bedroom and wordlessly hands over the tub to Ngozi. Completely ignoring her myriad of questions, he lies down to sleep and is almost close to achieving this when suddenly, a loud cry breaks out from the woman beside him.

"I told you to get me vanilla flavour, what the hell is this?!"

Commentator: Let's hear from our lovely Judges.

JUDGES REVIEW

JUDGE KAREN KINGSBURY

014 Bema.

So, you sat down and thought "What would I write that would be funny?" and what popped into your head was this.

Wow! Wow! Bravo! Anyway, a warning of some sort wouldn't have been bad at the beginning because I do not appreciate such. . .what's the word? The whole thing was just uncomfortable for me.

As much as it was, I still noticed something. The broda's erect member was facing her view *yet* she was behind the closed bathroom door that she had shut behind her?

Wow.

026 ThatGirl.

Just because you put people laugh/chuckle/giggle in your work does not make it funny. I noticed that pattern in some people's work.

Sometimes some things are funny when one feigns indifference or responds coldly. This humour was not humouring.

The man needs a hug and a slap. The woman needs therapy. The other characters need to mind their business. Well done with your punctuation, btw.

JUDGE ARUNDAHTI ROY

014 Bema.

Jesu manibu in the middle of fornication?😂

026 ThatGirl.

Good writing, good story but it wasn't all that funny.

JUDGE JK ROWLING

014 Bema

Bema, you know I specifically like you so I won't come and start saying too much to blow your head, but I love this yet again. I talked about coming off your comfort zone in the last stage and you did that, I could see through your work that your plot was not ordinary or basic. You actually put in an effort in building it and executing it well. Your work has explicit content, and tbh, I am naturally not a fan of that kind of thing. But you wrote it in such a way that it didn't seem too vulgar or uncomfortable, and that's how you tell a good writer. I laughed a lot through out the story, and I think you aced this very well.

026 ThatGirl.

And you, ThatGirl, I had to read your story twice to be able to get the plot and all, but it doesn't seem to hold much grounds still. Like I said, you are not a bad writer... I mean you made it to Stage Three... But maybe, _again_ , comedy is not your forte. I hope to see more from you, hopefully.

JUDGE WILLIAMS SHAKESPEARE

014 Bema.

So Ife, what if 't be true thee very much kicked the bucket, what shall thee bid thy heavenly fath'r in heaven?😂 I'mm coequal wond'ring what the lady's going to bid h'r parents at which hour those gents heareth the lady's in the hospital. And ife being the typeth of wench the lady is shall cometh up with a wond'rful forswear f'r h'r parents. 😂 valorous job bema. This is quite quaint. ✨

So Ife, what if you really died, what will you tell your heavenly father in heaven?😂 I'm even wondering what she's going to tell her parents when they hear she's in the hospital. And Ife being the type of girl she is will come up with a wonderful lie for her parents.😂 Good job Bema. This is beautiful.✨

026 ThatGirl.

Thee shouldst has't madeth thy entry m're comical than this. This lean'd m're on the s'rious side than comical.

You should have made your entry more comical than this. This leaned more on the serious side than comical.

JUDGE ACTON BELL

014 Bema
Bema, you narrated in first person and your MC was able to see Femi outside the door? She was also able to decipher his thoughts? How, ma? How? How on earth was she able to see what else she saw? Was the door a see-through kind? Abi na me dey misread? Shu.😂 When did he enter the bathroom? He flew in? Oh, was he a ghost and he walked through?😂 Omo. Bro, your story no clear oh.😂 I'm sorry, what?😂 The stuff was a bit much for me, tbh. Not everyone appreciates these kinda images, you get? So, next time-if there's gonna be one-try to keep it mild and clean. I didn't laugh, btw.

026 ThatGirl.

That girl, was it you I told to learn writing stuff one time like this? Um, I can't quite remember. But see, you really need to learn writing stuff. Apart from the fact that your story wasn't funny, there were lots of grammar mistakes in it. Omo. It's okay to stick to past tense if you haven't gotten the hang of present tense. Because your knowledge on present tense wasn't enough; it caused a lot of blunders. All right, that said, I did see a little bit of effort.

JUDGE MAYA ANGELOU

014 Bema.

The "Jesu Ma binu" had me on a fucking roll😂.

The way I started clapping my hands and went "hehehe" when she started praying in between knacks ehn. Like, una no get shame? And Femi saying they should finish so that they can ask forgiveness together 😂.

The babe sef no fear God. So after the first prayer for forgiveness, she started reconsidering Femi's words. She should have even died 😂. I want to hear the nonsense excuse she will give God.

026 ThatGirl.

I shouted "Ewo" at the end. I think that last bit was the only funny part of your story. The story was well written, but it wasn't hilarious. If anything, all I felt was pity for the poor man. After all the stress, Omo. I'll just go and hide.

JUDGE JANE COREY

014 Bema.

Not me anticipating for someone to walk into the room and catch them 😂😂😂😂

026 ThatGirl.

Funny 😑😑

JUDGE JAMES HARDLEY

014 Bema.

E for effort. Your story wasn't basic, you did an awesome job. I sha didn't laugh, but I smiled, I'm not a witch and very easy to crack up, trust me. I was impressed by your story, that should be a good news.

026 ThatGirl.

Omoh this is far from comedy.

Commentator: This batch was quite interesting.😂 That's all for this batch, Cribbers.

Watch out for Batch three tomorrow.
And if you are not following our social media handles you are wrong o👀