Best of the Worst Battle of the Genres

Florps Hoggenwarsch once said, “The day four men in their forties spend a lovely afternoon with each other participating in such infallible and wasteful follies instead of putting in a hard days work, well that’s the day I put a pistol in my mouth!” Florps Hoggenwarsch was one of the literary giants of his time (1802 – 1842) as well as a notable cultural critic and observationist. Florps did indeed put a pistol in his mouth whence-forth he discovered that four of his dearest friends spent a lovely afternoon in 1842 reading aloud and mocking amateur books and poems to the enjoyment of a small crowd of other failures. The crowd consisted of toothless town-folk, drunkards, ex-convicts, perverted men, and failed politicians (some crossover) along with some very smart animals. As Florps friends read passages aloud from the failed poets and aspiring novelists of the time, the crowd laughed loudly and chewed on raw potatoes. They threw cornhusks and flatulated freely. These four men (friends of Florps) were in their element though. Having failed miserably at most of life’s endeavors, they found solace (and success) at mocking the attempts of others. They brought much joy to those peasants while they chewed baked wormroot vegetables and picked at their teeth with fish bones. When Florps discovered what his four very dearest friends were doing he was aghast! For Florps, you see, was a highly respected author having published many works including “A Summer Dreary”, “Whistling Willows” and the highly acclaimed “When a Man loves a Small Boy”. Florps knew his career was in danger if HE was ever associated with such ghoulish events. He had two options, take out his pistol and end the lives of his four friends or turn that pistol on himself. He, of course, chose the latter. In the rear of the crowd he made his presence known. “Here Ye! Here Ye!” he shouted. “For I am Florps Hoggenwarsch! And in my last words I proclaim… ‘Those that can’t do! Make YouTube videos!” he then shot himself with his pistol. A silence fell over the crowd as his body fell to the Earth with a resounding thud. The event continued on without any further interruptions. After the show Florps body was placed on a horse cart filled with cornhusks, half-eated gabbygords, manure, and the discarded literature that the townsfolk laughed at. He was buried in a paupers grave. His friends went on to live happily ever after counting their gold coins in their respective castles.