Hacking It Spoof Newspaper Article Contest – Results

I thought we would be inundated with submissions for this competition so was a bit surprised to find entries a little down for this Challenge.  The lack of quantity however was more than made up for by quality with three entries all worthy of the top spot.

The brief was to write a spoof newspaper article in 250 words or less.  This called for journalistic style writing which quickly ruled out several entries which sounded more like anecdotal stories.

Newspaper stories also make good use of attention grabbing headlines, make every word count by pruning unnecessary adjectives and write in a pyramid format with the most important paragraph at the beginning.

A spoof article also needs to be believable!  You may have your doubts, but some part of you must wonder whether it could possibly by true.

With this guide in mind, three entries stood out.

Museum gets ready to rumble by Alex Rankin
By a whisker, I gave this first place.  It was an excellent piece of tight, journalist writing.  The headline was attention grabbing, the subject of the article was covered in the first sentence and, call me gullible, but I could well imagine myself being taken in by this!  The use of quotes from the Museum Director also gave authenticity.

Factoring In The X by Barry Forster
This one really made me smile and judging from the antics of some of our politicians, I would say the House in Whitehall is not so far removed from the Big Brother one as they would like to think!

It was a very imaginative piece with a good headline.  Written journalistically, it contained quotes and the use of humour was nicely subtle rather than slapstick.  The reason it didn’t quite go to the top was because the title did not relate immediately to the first paragraph.  We had to read on to make the connection.  A very good effort though, well done.

The Ball by Julian Worker
This was another excellent piece.  It had everything I was looking for in a spoof newspaper article and would have made my job in selecting a winner very difficult indeed if it had not been for that headline!  There was nothing attention grabbing about it which I found rather puzzling when the article itself was extremely imaginative and almost plausible until logic stepped in!

Well done to the winners and for those of you who didn’t get up there, a few words of advice.  All the entries contained good ideas which with a bit more work, could have made good spoofs.

Reading a few short news items in one of the better dailies would have quickly given you an idea of writing style.  Several of you also needed to do more proof reading.  There were not a lot of errors, but there really should not be any considering the short word count.

You can read all the Hacking It entries here.  Don’t forget to leave the authors a comment!

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caticonslite_bm_altFactoring in the X

It is rumoured that late last night MPs agreed an astonishing plan to try to popularise politics for the next general election.

The Proposal stated the next election campaign will be run from a ‘Big Brother’ style house, with 24 hour TV coverage and a diary/confession room. The occupants will be all the party leaders who will be expected to perform speeches in an entertaining yet concise way. A panel of 4 judges will critique each one, X Factor fashion, which will be followed by a public phone vote to decide day by day evictions, until only the new PM remains.

Tv bosses say this will give the public a direct say in the leadership of this country with local MPs being voted for by the more traditional polling booth method.

A spokesperson said, “Initially, it is thought an idea involving a combination of Big Brother and Shipwrecked was considered, but many leaders voiced concerns regarding return transport!”

It is believed the EU will monitor events closely, and should the idea prove a success ministers will consider a ‘Eurovision’ style of programme and voting for future European elections.

The Green Party commented how good it would be to keep all the ‘hot air’ in one confined area, and not have a whole host of juggernauts thundering around our island, gratifying those who love the sound of themselves talking.

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caticonslite_bm_altLove Bugs Kill Brit Tourist

(FNS) St. Augustine – Westminster Cathedral choirmaster Algernon Jones choked to death yesterday evening when he drove his rented convertible through a cloud of love bugs on I-95.

 

The renowned castrato was singing “Ode to Joy” at the time, according to a Florida Highway Patrol statement.

 

According to authorities, Jones, his wife Cynthia and twin teenage daughters, Patricia and Penelope, were approaching the exit ramp at State Road 207 when he struck the love bug flurry.

 

“It looked like black snow flakes,” one of the girls told investigators.

 

The black winged read-headed insects hatch out twice a year, in May and September, when they mate. They remain joined for their three week lifespan. They are a non-stinging variety of mosquito

 

“The victim reacted violently to the force of several of the insects entering his mouth. Violent choking may have caused a grand mal seizure resulting in his head striking the steering wheel,” a first-responder said.

 

The reaction caused the victim to mash the accelerator to the floor while gagging and clutching his throat, Mrs. Jones told investigators. She steered the hurtling vehicle into the grass median strip to avoid surrounding vehicles and southbound traffic.

 

“Mrs. Jones kicked her husband’s foot from the gas pedal and managed to turn the ignition key to the off position,” according to the report.

 

A special sunrise memorial service will be held in St. Mark’s grounds at 6 a.m. Friday. Choristers will sing “Woe is Me”.

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caticonslite_bm_altMuseum gets ready to rumble

The Natural History Museum in London is set to open its doors to a different crowd in October when it will play host to the first in a series of ‘Fight Nights.’

The first event, entitled ‘All Hallo’s Evil’, will take place on Halloween and will see the central hall being transformed into ‘an arena of evil’ where fighters will face off against each other in an ‘all against all’ style cage match.

Museum Director, Pete Swaithe, said, “Expect a no-holds-barred night of bloody mayhem in stunning and unique surroundings.”

Ticket sales will go towards supporting the museum’s research into the effects of climate change on wild flower species in the UK.

 

 

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caticonslite_bm_altGovernment to bring on the wrath of the gods

The Government has announced plans to call on the powers of ancient gods to help deal with any further rioting in the UK.

In an address to the House of Commons yesterday, David Cameron outlined a proposal to meet with a number of ancient Greek gods in a bid to utilise their power and wisdom in the face of any future unrest. Measures could see conventional police tactics such as curfews being used in conjunction with thunder and lightning to keep rioters off the streets, as well as community service programmes in Hades underworld for more serious offenders.

William Hague is to travel to MountOlympus next week where he will meet with Zeus, king of the gods, to discuss arrangements for a summit meeting with all 12 of the ancient gods and goddesses.

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caticonslite_bm_altThe Ball

A stone ball 20 feet in diameter has provided archaeologists with a clue to the reason for the construction of Silbury Hill and the Avebury Stone Circles. The ball was found two months ago in a ceremonial pit in a farmer’s field.

 

Three years ago, two skeletons were found at the base of Silbury Hill and every bone in their bodies was crushed. The skeletons were facing the hill and appeared to have had their arms stretched out in front of them as a kind of submissive gesture towards the sun god.

 

After the discovery of the ball scientists now believe that Silbury Hill was built to give impetus to the ball so that it could knock down human bowling pins standing on the hill’s lower slopes. This kind of divination, or boulderomancy as it has been termed, would determine who should farm an acreage of land, in times when there was a shortage of suitable fields due to population growth.    

 

Another idea is that the ball was used in a Stone Age game, a mixture of roulette and pinball. Scientists believe there were plans to double the height of Silbury Hill so that the ball could roll all the way to the stone circles at Avebury. The ceremonial way of standing stones was actually built so that the ball wouldn’t deviate from its path towards the stone circles. The idea was that gamblers would place bets on which rock in the circle the ball would nestle against.

 

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caticonslite_bm_altCat Flap

Trampshire Police received numerous calls from anxious pet owners in Upper Downton yesterday concerning mysterious signs erected on approach roads to their village. The large red signs stated

CATS EYES

REMOVED

Owner of the village shop, Miss May Bee, 45, told our reporter a customer from Lower Downton collecting his newspaper had alerted her to the signs.

 “He asked if I knew what the signs meant so I contacted the Police.”

Local Beat Policeman, PC Joe King, confirmed there had been a number of calls from concerned villagers. The RSPCA had also contacted police following reports of the signs to their Headquarters.

Mrs Julie Dunn, 72, renowned breeder of Siamese Cats and National Cat Show judge, who lives in the village said,

“I believe this may be an International crime. Siamese cats have clear blue eyes, a feature unscrupulous breeders would welcome in lesser breeds. Transplanting cats’ eyes, however, would not be a solution as the eyes would not breed true.”

Oldest inhabitant, Miss B. Gone, disagreed.

“This is clearly revenge taken by sympathisers of the blind rodents mutilated by the farmer’s wife back afore the Great War.”

Upper Downton received some better news later, when a team from Trampshire Council arrived to start work resurfacing the road through the village.

“There have been a number of complaints regarding pot-holes following the severe winter weather and this seems the best way forward,” said foreman, Mr I. Phillit.

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caticonslite_bm_altADULT RETURNERS

ADULT RETURNERS

If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach then for an increasing band of beleaguered mums it might also be the way of escape.
Economic crises of varying degree, the low Western marriage rate and, whisper it, sheer laziness, has caused a massive change in the way our young men live their lives. The adult returner is here to stay – or is he?
Recent work in Malaysia among orphan orang-utans has demonstrated that food boredom is the most successful method of forcing the rescued off the feeding platform and into the wild fig trees.
Babies grow into young animals and then into adolescents. The temptation to keep coming to the feeding platform and not forage, is a phenomenon recognised by researchers working with the magnificent animals whose habitat is under increasing threat from pressure on the rain forest. However, even the laziest orang-utan balks at day after day of chopped apple and soft plantain. Once the growing animal discovers the joy of a la carte over table d’hôte, they’re off.
TIP FOR THE BRITISH MOTHER
While it is difficult to ensure a constant supply of plantain, other fruit is available in season. The young male when offered fruit salad without cream as his main meal 365/365 will soon begin to broaden his search for a suitable mate with whom to set up home. This frequently leads to the provision of grandchildren widely regarded as a fitting and due reward for years of maternal sacrifice.

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caticonslite_bm_altNEW LAWS TO STOP CLIMATE CHANGE.

NEW LAWS TO STOP CLIMATE CHANGE.

 

The government today passed a controversial piece of legislation in a bid to avoid a hefty fine by the E.U.

There was a heated debate in the House as government ministers pressed the point that they had to make swift and possibly ‘unpopular’ decisions to meet the E.U legislation of cutting the country’s carbon footprint.

The opposition, as expected had plenty of arguments, but following a ‘Free Vote,’ the government won the day by a narrow majority.

The new law which comes into force on 1st January 2012 will ban the use of private cars on all roads from midnight Friday until 6am Monday. This ban will also include taxis.There will be extra buses introduced to and from airports, but there will be no change in other public transport.

The leader of the opposition later told us, “This is going to put a lot of jobs at risk, for example, out of town shopping centers, and seaside resorts will be deserted at the weekend. Sports fans will not be able to watch their team. This is just stupid.  It hasn’t been evaluated for the impact it will have on people’s lives.”

A spokesman for the Prime Minister said, “The Prime Minister is very pleased with this, he feels that it will be beneficial not only to Climate Change but will also give a boost to family life.” 

As was expected the Prime Minister was not available for comment.

 

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caticonslite_bm_altThe God of Compassion

THE GOD OF COMPASSION
Andrew packed his briefcase and zipped his fleece. It had been chosen to make him look less like a Minister and failed miserably. Off-duty a Minister looked like a Minister.
There was no hiding place. Folk would waylay him. Folk like the youth he’d seen in the side-aisle during his Sermon.
“You’re never off,” his wife had said the other week when he didn’t get to the supermarket on time. She and three children and the week’s shopping had to get back to the manse in a taxi. “Except on Sundays – in the pulpit.”
Andrew flicked the light switch and stepped out of the hall doors into an afternoon darkened by the threat of thunder. July often brought thunder. He looked into the heavens and saw the black massing. A vision of the Gods, not his God, but The Gods, the real Gods of folklore and classical myth, slashed his mind’s eye. Fanciful.
He moved away from the building clutching his car key. The air was full of static and he knew there would be a shock when his fingers touched the car. It was the red hair.
“Why did God give me red hair, Daddy?” his youngest had asked after she started school.
“He saves it for the most beautiful,” he’d said, trying to mollify the child and soothe her class-mates’ bullying with gentle teasing. It didn’t work and Jen had had to go in and sort out the teacher.
“Lazy woman. Couldn’t be bothered to root it out. She’ll deal with it now,” she said when she came home and there was a hint he’d been found wanting again.
“Excuse me Reverend. Excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me.”
Andrew stopped and took a deep breath. He wished there was a different way to leave his church but there was only this walk across the gravel to the car park and they all knew it. Every wastrel, every drunk, every gambler knew the Minister would be crossing this gravel to his car at noon on a Sunday. He glanced round.
“It’s my wife,” the youth from the side-aisle said. He stank of alcohol, fags and urine. His hair was matted and there was a bruise developing along his jaw line. “She went to her mum’s. That’s in Inverness, like. She’s had the baby but I need to get up there to see them.”
“A baby? Is this your first?” Andrew asked trying to keep an open mind.
“Aye. A wee boy, like.”
“Lucky man. I have three girls. A house full of girls,” Andrew said and started to walk towards the car. He saw the youth panic slightly and felt a hand on his arm.
“I need to get up there, Reverend, and I haven’t got any money, like. I thought you being a man of the cloth would give, lend me some. Just till Tuesday. I get mine on Tuesdays.”
“Your benefits?”
“Aye. I had to stop work when she got pregnant ‘cos she panicked about being in the house with my mum on her own. Made mum furious, like, but what can you do?” He shuffled and flicked his gaze from his dirty trainers to Andrew’s face and back to the trainers. He was such a perfect picture of tabloid inadequate Andrew decided he could be a genuine case.
“May I ask why you’re in such a mess?” he said baldly as Jen did when she went into the school to sort things out. At least he thought that was how she did it. He never joined her. Could not face the embarrassment of judging people who were probably doing their best and who knew that it was the redhead this week but it would be the fatty next and the skinny one the week after.
“A mess? Oh, right. I don’t suppose I look too good, do I? My mum chucked us out two weeks ago and the wife went up to her mum but I hung back, like. I’ve been skippering with some of the boys behind the supermarket. They had a bit of a do last night.” He ran a hand over his stubble and the bruise.
Andrew waited but the youth seemed to think he’d explained it all and stood open-mouthed before him. High above, the first roll of thunder sounded and drops of rain as big as hailstones pelted from the sky.
“Why didn’t you go to Inverness with your wife?” he asked at last and began to walk purposefully to the car. He clicked the key. “Get in.”
They sat in the front seats and close to, the boy smelled rank. Andrew choked. He tried to disguise it but failed and began to cough.
“Look, Reverend…”
“Call me Andrew, or Mr McClure, but not Reverend,” he interrupted. The flash of shame across the boy’s face brought the same to his. “I’m sorry. It’s just wrong, ‘Reverend’. Sometimes it irritates me.”
“I’ve not been much in the Church, Mr McClure. Mum was a Catholic and Dad wasn’t anything but he wouldn’t let us go. To either.”
“It happens,” Andrew said. The lunch would be spoiling again he thought and tried to decide. Was this a con artist or was he just simple? And down on his luck.
“I did go to my mum for a loan but she said she wasn’t interested in the bairn and didn’t see why I couldn’t break free now that Shannon’s gone to Inverness. But I don’t need to be free, Rev… Mr McClure. I want to be a dad,” he said and Andrew heard the threat of tears. Great, he thought, a maudlin con artist.
“I stayed behind because there was a chance of work at that new building site. You know where the biscuit factory was. I was clean and tidy when I went to the interview,” he said. “Mum kept the papers they sent but she gave them to me this morning when my sister shouted at her. I’ve got a start on Thursday.”
Lightening cracked the sky and Andrew flinched. He hated storms. The boy pulled a couple of envelopes out of his pocket and he recognised the logo of the big firm that was developing the site. The man did have a job. He thrust the key into the ignition.
“My wife will have the meal on. Do you mind if we carry this discussion on at the manse?”
“At the manse? I don’t want to put your wife to any trouble, sir,” he said and Andrew could see he meant it. The thunder crashed again.
“She always accuses me of having no God on Sundays,” Andrew said. He looked through the windscreen to the heavens and smiled. Actually she said he was off-duty on Sundays and he knew she was worried that he’d lost his way a bit. Lost the fire and the brimstone. Lost the will to stand up to bullies. “What’s the lad called?”
“Archie.”
“That’s my dad’s name,” Andrew said. “If we’d had a boy…”
“Maybe next time, Rev… Mr McClure.”
Andrew laughed. “Don’t say that to Mrs McClure until I’m out of the room.”
THE END
1,195 words

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