Deep into the Black Forest, under the shadows of the trees flocks of men hid, pretending promenading their sharp-teethed poodles; they stood with loaded shotguns waiting amidst this marshy land. The hunting of the Snark had begun.

There was a time centuries ago when a beast going by the name Snark got a tad hungry. First it began by capturing and eating ducks and birds. The villagers were not afraid, for they were sure that with that diet the beast was soon to cease existing. But the beast survived and got tired of slaying innocent, cute little balls of fur, which sung and flew and did other amazing things. And so it moved on by feeding itself with those two-legged things that all they did was walk and shout.

Not long after the first deaths, one dark day, when the sun did not shine and all the beasts howled terrible cries, one man named Will stood in the waters of the Black Forest up to his waist holding a bundle of hay in his hand. And he fired it up and waved it in the air and roared. The Snark never attacked again.

Since that day, every year the people of Will's Town held a ceremony that kept them safe from the curse of the Snark. Men would muddle about in the Black Forest, keeping company to all the terrapins until they would see the will-o‚-the wisp in the dark sky, or the ghost of Will holding the wisp in the middle of the marshland. And when they did, they shouted: "Hail, o mighty Snark!" And they waited till the clock stroke twelve. Only then the ceremonial dance would begin, and they wouldn't stop dancing until they got bunions on their feet.

Two of the most famous sportscasters of Will's Town, Tom and Jerry, always described the event. They sat behind the protected glass and dusted their microphones. Every year their broadcasting was exactly the same and yet the crowd always sounded surprised.

"The roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd!"

"Yes, or the smell of the greasepaint, the roar of the crowd, your choice!"

The crowd cheered.

"Hey Jer, I see your mother wears Army boots this year"

"Will's Army Surplus store," Jerry said. "For your Hunting of the Snark‚ gear, all you'll ever need."

"And folks don‚t forget,‰ Tom said. "You can enter our contest till midnight."

"And we have a fun theme for this year‚s contest, isn‚t that right Tom?"

"Oh, yes indeed. This years theme is „Drop down and give me ten ... books."


"Yes, that‚s right, folks. You have to go down your cellars and find ten books about the history of the Snark. The first one to bring them here wins an antique shotgun used to one of our earliest Hunt the Snark‚ nights, courtesy of Will's Army Surplus store."

"And you can also listen to the best Snark stories at the Bat Segundo Show or visit Galleycat- the ultimate book tips database."

Miss Snark thumbs through her OED for "revision" and "diction". Yes, still there!

Scoring to come


Elektra said...

I want to know where this guy comes from, that ducks are furry

Pepper Smith said...

Yeah, he lost me right about there. Plus the 'Ducks and birds' thing. Erm...aren't ducks birds to begin with?

Self-appointed scorekeeper said...

Bah-I don't know. It's the whole 'coherent narrative' and 'narrative sense' thing that's throwing me off. I score it a 40 out of a possible 78. Perhaps a comeback of five points for the hated-but-one-person-loved-it deal.

JLB said...

Lost me on this one...

Anonymous said...

Tentative score: The full 78, as long as Miss Snark gives full credit to splitting up "promenading poodles" as "promenading their sharp-teethed poodles". Plus five for funny. Does this event play on The Ocho?


Anonymous said...

'The Hunting of the Snark' Now Live at the The Ocho. For complete set of rules please visit: