And the winner is:
Gerald began–but was interrupted by a piercing whistle which cost him ten percent of his hearing permanently, as it did everyone else in a ten-mile radius of the eruption, not that it mattered much because for them “permanently” meant the next ten minutes or so until buried by searing lava or suffocated by choking ash–to pee.
My personal favorite is the Children’s Literature winner:
Danny, the little Grizzly cub, frolicked in the tall grass on this sunny Spring morning, his mother keeping a watchful eye as she chewed on a piece of a hiker they had encountered the day before.
Federal Way, WA
The Bulwer-Lytton Awards celebrate the best of the worst writing of all time. I wish I could do the same with bad screenplays I’ve read, but too bad I’m sworn to confidentiality.
This afternoon’s work read was a children’s book whose snobbish main character hated his new home, located in a neighborhood very near to mine. Not cool, dude.