Moon Zuppa's First Cheap Best Fiction Competition is Finally here!

Moon Zuppa belongs to the stars and the moon. The soup and the people. We do not know what blueprint, form or rules mean. We are burnt in a magnificently glorious macabre manner manifesting itself into a juggernaut of writing feast. Our feast shall rise like yeast! All submissions can be sent to us and if we see it we will have somebody else judge it since we have no objective ability to do so ourselves. Moon Zuppa staff has a hard enough time with simple tasks that come so easy to others - like taking out the garbage without spilling the cum in it.

So without further babblings we present some of the best stories written by people who are clearly not talented. Why give them space? Because here at Moon Zuppa we believe a great society is only as strong as its weakest link. Our studies show our links are hopelessly fucking weak.

The Hill we Call a Mountain
by Catherine Jill

"Oh, Sandhu! You are mega funny hilarious in a humorous way the way you use words," Jane exclaimed while gently grabbing Sandhu's balls in motherly comfort. "Shut it, you skank," Sandhu responded tenderly. As tenderly as a sweet pea. "Today was great. It was a lotta fun. We should keep doing that and this," Jane added ignoring Sandhu's request. Sandhu could not be bothered to respond as he flicked her adamantine nipples. Staring out at the grand creek before them, Sandhu broke the silence with a suggestion. "Why don't we go to the mountain? There you can lick my scrotum as a sacrifice to the cunt gods." Jane pondered it with her index finger tapping a devilish smirk. Sandhu sternly looked at her and said "Stop doing that. You just fingered yourself. So?" "Ok. But why don't I just suck your most sensational cock?" "Call your sister," Sandhu demanded as he wiping the dirt off his hands. "You are such an eccentric in a crazy, absurd sexual way. Ok. She likes the mountain. She has fond memories there." As they stood up Jane asks "Hey, Sandhu. Why do you suppose they call the hill a mountain?" "I reckon it's because men are always hoping to be bigger pieces of shit than they really are," he philosophically concludes. "Wow. Men are stinky huh?" "Watch your mouth. You don't mind slurping them though, right?" "I guess not. Hey, there's my sister. Julie!" "That's your sister?" Sandhu blurts in shock. "Yes. Why? What is it?" "Sandhu? Why are you here?" And so on the hill they call a mountain, life and its perplexing mysteries grew in stature once again for these young youths as they sorted out the truth. A truth that would make the hill seem all the more hillier.

A Moment with a Loan Officer
by Henry Banks

"Ok, Mr. Kettle. We are one step away from approving your loan," the loan officer told Timmy. "Really? Wow. I heard you guys were heartless bastards but I see this was just an urban myth." "Yes, Timmy. An urban myth." Timmy was finally going to build his dream brothel 'filled with all the most infamous whores from all five corners of the earth.' "I'm going to have women from all over: Northwest Territories, Peru, remote Mongolia, Siberia, Africa and Idaho," he suddenly giggles to himself fiendishly "Ido-whore." "Alright. Now your loan applications asks for a $100 000 dollars. If you can deposit a bank draft in your account for that same amount you'll be on your way to building your dreams?" Timmy's face contorted hideously. He was confused. The banker before him was slowly growing horns and a long nose as he tried to conceal it. "B-but I don't have that m-money. If I did I would not have come here," he sheepishly told the big banker. "Well, I am terribly sorry, Timmy. We have rules here at the bank and we are not a charity. We were giving you a preferred rate of interest on your own borrowings." Pause. "It's a great deal, Timmy." Pause. "A GREAT deal. Now sign you little prick." "No! It's not right! Why must you shatter my dreams! All I ever wanted was to give aspiring sluts a chance at a new life here! How will I do this under these terms? I guess I'm screwed like Ginger Lynn." "It really means that much to you, huh?" "More than anything in the whole world, hmmph!" "Tell you what." The banker tossed everything on his desk - a lamp, a mug, a stapler, papers, telephone, dentures, a knife and gnomes - to the floor. "How about we make a deal? We are always seeking new markets and business ventures to improve our margins. Why don't you come back tomorrow? Might I interest you in a new Visa card?."