The Mask Final Poll

[Velox]

The Mask Final Poll

 

Vote here for your favorite The Mask story. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on July 17th at 11:59 PM PST. The entry with the most votes will be the winner of The Mask theme and will then be either judged or polled against the winners of the other themes.

 

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Choice #1:

 

"Happy Hour"

 

On the way back my mask slowly came on, of course don’t be a moron, this isn’t a real mask I’m talking about, it’s just the hollow nincompoop I use to get by during the day. The stupid fool I’m supposed to be like, this normal man, is just your average run of the mill Joe…

 

And he sickens me.

 

I mean really? What’s the point of being this perfect person, the guy who worked hard in high school, then hard in college, and then got a good job. The guy who’s apparently a blast to hang out parties with, despite the fact that he doesn’t actually fun when there. Not to mention this moron is also unable to let me do anything.

 

So every morning I leave the house without the mask on. I run around the city having fun, of course most people would are too stiff to even want to go out in these parts of towns, after all the crime rates have been pretty darn high, there’s even been a slew of murders. I however needed to meet with Joe’s boss, guys who didn’t leave their front door were cowards.

 

Now you see, the boss had been pretty annoying to Joe recently, and normally I wouldn’t really do any favors for my mask, but he had making him stay overtime which meant he was cutting into my time, and that, well that’s just not acceptable. More than that…

 

It’s downright terrible, and I needed to fix things.

 

That had been my thought process as I entered the arrogant slob’s house, he hadn’t exactly invited me in, but the window was open so why not? Well it was open once I found it, may not have been the case before. It was also in pieces when I was done with it, but hey the guy had plenty of other windows, who cared if one ended up broken.

 

Anyhow, sorry, I got sidetracked; I tend to have a habit of doing that. You understand though, right? Who am I kidding of course you do, you’re on the internet right. And ugh, you made me break the fourth wall.

 

Ahem.

 

Sorry, moving on.

 

So yeah I entered the guys house, all sneaky like, picture a Mission Impossible movie, you’ll get the idea. Play the soundtrack as well, it’s rather fitting right now. Regardless of the chosen OST playing right now, I entered the slob’s bedroom and gently woke him up.

 

When I say gently I mean I threw him onto the ground but all’s fair in love and war right, and I just loved seeing that moron hit the ground.

 

“Joe?” He asked in confusion, the old man was still half asleep. “JOE!” He yelled this time, horror entering his eyes as he realized the predicament he was in. “My god Joe!” Yes we get it old man, I look like Joe, can we please move on? I have only 750 words and you’re wasting quite a few of them.

 

“What the heck do you think you’re doing Joe, barging in here in the middle of the night and throwing your boss to the ground?” The old man was now berating me, funny that he still thought he had the power to do so.

 

“Calm down man,” I cooed with my very charismatic voice, “I’m a friend of Joe, and well let me put it this way, you’re keeping Joe so busy and well I can’t have that. You understand right?”

 

“I’m not sure I follow,” I’m still not sure why I let the moron continue talking, “Joe are you okay? Do we need take you to the hospital or something?”

 

Have I mentioned how much I hate this guy?

 

“POW!” I yelled as my hand slapped across the man’s face, I really love making sound effects. Then I grabbed the man by his collar and held him against the wall. “Do I really have to explain it again? I’m not Joe, now I think we’re done here.”

 

The old man’s eyes widened when he saw the knife in my end, and suddenly they went blank when the eye was now in his gut.

 

Remember those murders I mentioned before? Yeah, my bad.

 

Anyhow, satisfied with a job well done, I departed from the fool’s house. Once I made it home, I made sure to give back control to Joe, he was going to be quite surprised tomorrow when he found about my present to him.

 

Yup, life’s awesome.

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Choice #2:

"Thinking cap"

"Wait a moment!" I yelled; I couldn't let father go yet. "I have a request before you retire for the night."

I could see his hands fiddling with the elastic bands, hear his impatient feet tapping. It was understood that he was not to be disturbed when he wore the mask; this was my only chance.

He seemed annoyed at my hesitation, not curious as to what was so important that I interrupted him so rudely. He was never himself when pining for the mask.

"What's so important about this?" I'm sure if, God forbid, something should happen - a fire or some such - when he was immersed in that mask, he would just sit, oblivious and useless, in that old chair of his, even as all the wires and tubes were slowly burned and melted. He would remain motionless, absorbed in his useless fantasies.

He grumbled and grasped his mask more firmly, disentangling the wires, tubes, attached to it. This was, with no doubt, my last chance to speak to him tonight.

He graciously offered me a reply, making little effort to hide the sour note in his voice: "I have told you too many times, that your mind could never conceive of what I see." He raised the mask to his face. The conversation was over, and I would lose him once again. Determined to see that prophecy deemed false, I snatched the mask from his hands.

"Let me at least try it," I pleaded, as his hands pulled uselessly at my fingers.

He, in turn, pleaded for me to return it to him. It was a pathetic scene. "You wouldn't be able to take it. You won't understand!" His quivering hands snatched the mask from my fingers, and his fingers toiled over all the wires, switches, and buttons as he readied most precious possession for use. He raised it to his face once again, and again I parried, taking a firm hold on the curved metal, freeing it from his hands.

I stood for a moment, considering what to do next, and he stood across from me, his eyes praying that I wouldn't harm his masterpiece. A minute passed. I could simply end this harmful device, but the pitiful sight before me troubled my conscience. How could I just destroy the greatest prize of my genius father? Yet how could I let I live on, ruining him, ruining me, ruining us all. I lifted the mask high to let it shatter on the ground. Taking a breath, I urged my fingers to let go, my eyes religiously avoiding my father's.

But the mask didn't fall, bend, twist, shatter on the ground. I found my face enveloped in its smooth, cool curves. Darkness obscured my vision. All noise was blocked out and I found myself the beholder of a curious sensation, of floating. It was relaxing beyond anything I had ever experienced and likely ever will. It was beautiful, more so than the most amazing landscapes or brilliant sunset.

Suddenly I knew everything. I was sure that if I only thought for a moment, I could solve the world's greatest problems, discover wonders beyond comprehension, invent machines too great to behold. Nothing was beyond my grasp. Everything I had ever hoped for could be achieved with no effort, my every dream realized. It then dawned upon my transcendental mind that my hopes and dreams, everything I strived for or would, was so utterly pointless. My joys and sorrows became insignificant blips in a dull life.

Now I could see, yet I was blind to everything that seemed worthy. Now I could understand father, how his evil thinking cap had taken his life. Then I felt fear. Fear of having this sensation taken from me, of the horrid, boring life I had. I panicked, and my imagination fled, leaving only the darkness of the mask. The feeling of cool metal against my face returned, I could feel hands, and light punctured my panic. Father kneeled above me. His face displayed anger, but in his eyes I saw fear. He looked tired and thin, but more alive than ever before.

I vaguely saw my hands, quivering. Beyond them father came into focus again, and mother. Now both looked relieved, and I felt them drop onto me, pulling me into a hug. As the daze left me, the horrific memories of wonder faded. I made no effort to hold onto them, instead embracing mother and father, inviting them back into my life. Father gripped me tighter, accepting the invite.

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Choice #3:

"Simple"

 

It’s really quite simple.

 

More than anything else, people fear what they don’t understand.

 

Everyone hates not knowing. Everyone wants to feel like they’re in control, like they know why everything happens, what everyone else thinks, why everyone else thinks what they think.

 

What they don’t understand, they rationalize away in simple terms. Everything has an explanation. Everything is perfectly rational when you give it some thought, really.

 

So why do I do what I do? It’s perfectly simple, perfectly rational, when you give it some thought.

 

Surely I was traumatized as a child. Surely I witnessed some heinous act of violence, from which I could not recover. Surely I come from a terrible, abusive family situation. Surely I’ve suffered countless losses. Surely I am a victim in some way, and I only lash out because I’m lonely and lost.

 

Surely, beneath this mask of violence and joyful hatred, I am a perfectly nice person.

 

Perfectly rational.

 

Perfectly simple.

 

Just one of many, a victim of circumstance.

 

And it’s true. So long as it’s convenient, they are right. I only mask my inner, placid, peaceful self out of fear and desperation. My mask is not physical, but a fabricated feeling of loathing, a false, if overwhelming, desire to see every last thing in ruins and every last person in pieces.

 

But, it’s perfectly rational.

 

It’s perfectly simple, when you think about it.

 

It isn’t my fault. I don’t want it. I definitely do not enjoy it.

 

But here’s a question.

 

When you give it some thought.

 

Who is behind the biggest mask? Those that hide their fear and their lack of understanding behind half-hearted explanations and rationalizations, or I, who wear my feelings on my sleeve?

 

The answer is quite simple, once you give it some thought.

 

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Choice #4:

 

"The Jester"

 

I wear this mask to hide my name,

Cover my face, cover my shame.

This painted grin, burden it's been;

A laughing glance, cover my pain.

 

I laugh and dance, I joke, I sing,

For peasant low, for queen, for king;

I make you smile, and all the while,

Deep in my heart, my soul crying.

 

I show the world a merry face,

I spread good cheer all round the place:

Ever after, behind my laughter,

Behind this mask, sulks sad disgrace.

 

Long years ago, I had nothing,

No paint, no lies to force a grin;

I walked for miles, wore joyous smiles,

Now that's all lost, slain by my sin.

 

Who knew a chain could be so weak?

One small blunder, my joy could take?

Hard to believe, that I should grieve,

For all this time, for one mistake.

 

One word let slip invokes a curse.

A desperate try tightens the noose.

For the stars sailing, all else failing,

All demons, worms, and fears let loose.

 

Buried beneath earth damp and cold,

Those eyes once bright, that heart once bold:

The remnants of my long-lost love;

Now laid to rest like pirate's gold.

 

Of joy and grief I've been bereft,

A hopeless void, an empty cleft.

I've danced and twirled, made laugh the world,

But in my heart there's nothing left.

 

I wear this mask to hide my tears.

The sun is gone, shadows are here:

This painted grin, burden it's been;

My sad heart can still offer cheer.

 

I wear this mask to play a fool:

A puppet and a broken tool . . .

Though I am dead, joy I can spread;

And make this world less dark, less cruel.

 

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[BBBBalta]

As before, it was between 3 and 4. And, as before, I chose the latter simply because the ending is so perfect.

[Velox]

Polling period over; topic closed. Final polls should be up tomorrow, hopefully.