Oxhorn’s “Paddy’s Day” Contests

In celebration of St. Patrick’s Day, Oxhorn is hosting two contests with fabulous prizes: “Oxhorn’s Face-Fun Contest” and “Oxhorn’s Fan Art Contest”. Both contests end at 11:59 PM Pacific time, Wednesday March 17^th. Results will be announced at oxhorn.com on Monday, March 22^nd.

Oxhorn’s Face-Fun Contest

Description

Create a fun, funny, weird, silly or otherwise interesting image of Oxhorn’s face (the person, not the character). You can make an original drawing or you can edit images of Oxhorn to produce your image. It does not have to be “Paddy’s Day” themed, but it can be. It can be flattering or you can make fun of Oxhorn—whatever is fun and interesting! You may enter as many times as you wish, but you can only win once, per contest. If you have a question, ask away in the contest forum thread.

Here are some sample images of Oxhorn you can use to make your submissions (WARNING, big files. Right-click, Save Target As):

• Sample 1
• Sample 2
• Sample 3
• Sample 4
• Sample 5
• Sample 6
• Sample 7
• Sample 8
• Sample 9

Prizes

• First Place: You may choose ONE of the following: a $50 gift certificate to Amazon.com, ThinkGeek.com, Jinx.com OR you may choose any combination of items from Oxhorn’s Shop, not to exceed $50 (including shipping).
• Second Place: You may choose ONE of the following: a $15 gift certificate to Amazon.com, ThinkGeek.com, Jinx.com OR you may choose any combination of items from Oxhorn’s Shop, not to exceed $15 (including shipping).

Tips

Preference will be given to skill and originality. Submit a high quality, large image. Stuck for ideas? See what other fans have done in the Fan Art Gallery.

How to Enter

After you have completed your image, upload it to an image sharing website like Flickr or Photobucket. Then paste a link to your submission in the Contact Form. Provide your name and submit it.

Oxhorn’s Fan Art Contest

Description

Create any sort of Oxhorn fan art you wish. Funny? Sad? Moving? Irreverent? Whatever you feel like making—as long as it is Oxhorn themed (referring to my characters, songs, movies, stories or my very person), create an image and submit away! You may enter as many times as you wish, but you can only win once, per contest. If you have a question, ask away in the contest forum thread.

Here are some sample images of Oxhorn you can use to make your submissions

Prizes

• First Place: You may choose ONE of the following: a $50 gift certificate to Amazon.com, ThinkGeek.com, Jinx.com OR you may choose any combination of items from Oxhorn’s Shop, not to exceed $50 (including shipping).
• Second Place: You may choose ONE of the following: a $15 gift certificate to Amazon.com, ThinkGeek.com, Jinx.com OR you may choose any combination of items from Oxhorn’s Shop, not to exceed $15 (including shipping).

Tips

You may draw original art (digital, hand-drawn, whatever you want), or use video game artwork to create your submission. Preference will be given to original art, unless your use of video game artwork is exceptional. Submit a high quality, large image. Stuck for ideas? See what other fans have done in the Fan Art Gallery.

How to Enter

After you have completed your image, upload it to an image sharing website like Flickr or Photobucket. Then paste a link to your submission in the Contact Form. Provide your name and submit it.

There is a fatal flaw in reductio ad ridiculum, the favorite weapon used by the likes of Stewart, Colbert and the entire cast of Vitalis Nocturnorum Saturni Dies, if you’ll pardon my rather handsome attempt at displaying erudition by speaking in poorly translated Latin. This flaw, to which I previously referred with corpulent lucidity, being that one ridiculous outcome need not be necessitated by a belief to which one is in disagreement.

I shall illuminate this rather perplexing problem with a parable, my pretty pernicious plebeians. Supposing one objected to youthful instruction by the dandified by arguing that a fop is more likely to dandle the youthful than, say, the rugged, shaggy man both unbent and rare in shape, possessing such masculine features as the charming fellow sitting before you. Objections would be made, my delicious shavings of caramelized sugar, placing the foppish in scenarios of pure silliness–say, in a rusty van stalking a primary school, and commenting on how rust is poor for one’s complexion, something a fop would have foremost on his mind and therefore least likely to be in contact with. The flaw occurs not in the recognition, oh well-reasoning persons of some importance, that such a visage is both silly and unlikely, but in rejecting its possibility outright on the grounds of its silliness in lieu of actual evidence.

This, my deep-fried and obviously eloquent hush-puppies, is the fatal flaw in reductio ad ridiculum—the straw man.

I think what it is is that when you have what you know you need right before you, you don’t really want it. You know you need it, and you know it is what you ultimately want and it will make you happy. But when it is there, right before you, easy to grab, you just don’t want it. You wonder if you’ll lose your one and only opportunity to “acquire a disreputable past”, and if you already have one, maybe its the thought of living otherwise that makes you scared. So you forsake it, do the thing that you know, or the thing that excites you, counting on what you leave behind to still be there when you get back.

But people don’t work that way, unless you’re family, and even then, it is hit and miss. The prodigal son story only has a happy ending if the father loves his son, and welcomes him back with open arms. If that love is gone, where does the prodigal son go? You can only push a man so far. You can only hurt him so much, until he cant be hurt anymore. And its at that point when love drowns, really. You love because you give power to be hurt to a person. When that person doesn’t hurt, you love. When that person does hurt, the character of a man is revealed. Some say its a sap who forgives and opens his arms. Maybe the prodigal son’s father was a sap. The brother seems to be the only one who wasn’t a sap. Screw my brother, he says, this isn’t fair. I was loyal and I didn’t get a party. It isn’t right. And yet the sap is made the hero, and the brother the villain.

What if the prodigal son never came back? Never saw the error of his ways and stopped eating pig food? Well, I suppose the father would still be there, looking out over the horizon waiting for his son to return. Do you think he ever got over his son? I don’t think so. That makes him a sap.

So I could do what they say to do. I could do what the son’s father didn’t do. Kill that bit of love. Done, over, well deserved. But then I would never have been family. Family doesn’t do that. Maybe I don’t want to be family. Guess I was just playing a part. I don’t think I can be much of a sap. Not anymore. But we’ll see.

Love is pretty fragile. Just think how easy it is to destroy love. Open your mouth and utter a few words, and what you labored for vanishes in a moment. It would be nice if the lie was true—that true love is forever, that if you really love someone you can overlook their faults, flaws, quirks, annoyances and even foolish words spoken in a heated moment. Sadly, the reality is that love is fragile, and without careful fertilization, watering and constant pruning, it will wither away and die.

I’m told that this is often for the best. That the gnarled tree that produces bitter fruit is best forgotten. Good riddance, they say, it was a bitter fruit. Sure. Maybe they’re right. But dammit, that love grew. It was real, honest and beautiful, at least for a while, and it took toil to grow it. The greatest shame is to uproot it and cast it away.

No, we live in a world where every tree has sweeter fruit than the last. Where we’re urged to sample, chew, spit and sample again. This tree doesn’t make me happy. It’s fruit no longer looks shapely. The sweetness turns sour in my mouth. It is too hard to prune—I’m done! Another tree with sweeter fruit will come by soon. What a waste. What a horrid waste.

When love dies, it is the greatest tragedy. There are few good things on this earth, few things that make this whole bleeding mess worth the years and agony and toil upon constant toil. And one of those things is love. No, it is never “for the best” when one love dies. Sure, another might take its place. But the first is dead. It was unique, like a fingerprint. No new love can ever be just like it. And with such remote odds of its resurrection, there should be mourning, not joy, to see it die.

DR.

Hey DINK, I found this really cool sea-shell.

DINK

Oh, neat! What does it do?

DR.

It’s a wishing shell. You hold it in your hands and make a wish, and whatever you wish comes true!

DINK

Wow, that’s great!

DR.

Truly great.

DINK

Great.

DR.

Truly great.

DINK

What should we wish for?

DR.

Well, it should be something really great.

DINK

Truly great.

DR.

No more of that now.

DINK

Ok sorry. I know, let’s wish for the very best thing in the world.

DR.

Sounds good! Here, you grab this half with you’re hand, and I’ll grab the other half with my hand… there we go.

BOTH

We wish upon wish for the greatest thing in the world!

Zap! They both appear in space.

DINK

Woah, what happened? Where are we?

DR.

It… looks like we’re back in space.

DINK

Really? How can you tell?

DR.

Well, look over there. See that?

DINK

Yeah…

DR.

That’s space.

DINK

Oh. And this is the greatest thing in the world?

DR.

I guess so.

DINK

Well, if the shell says so, it must be true. Hooray!

DR.

Hooray! We’ve found the greatest thing in the world!

DINK

Hooray!

DINK

Well, good night!

DR.

Good night.

They fall asleep.

NARRATOR

That… was the shortest waste of time in your life. Tune in next time for another tedious episode of, Orcs in SPACE!

DINK

DR. Strange Orc, why are we still floating in space?

DR.

I dunno DINK. I’m not even sure how we got here in the first place.

DINK

Are we here because someone finds it therapeutic to write really stupid scripts and is using us as a way to achieve his vision?

DR.

No, that cant be it.

DINK

Yeah, that can’t be it.

DINK

Hey, do you hear that noise?

DR.

What noise?

DINK

That noise. Shh, listen for a moment.

They listen and hear wind.

DR.

It sounds like wind.

DINK

Oh, that makes sense. Having background ambiance really sells audio design, especially if there is no video to accompany your story.

DR.

But wait, aren’t we in space? There’s no wind in space.

DINK

Oh yeah. Plus, sound can’t travel through the vacuum of space, so if there was wind in space, we wouldn’t be able to hear it.

DR.

Boy, this is a problem.

DINK

I know! Let’s tell the wind to go away.

DR.

Good idea! Hey wind, go away!

DINK

Yeah, go away wind! You’re insulting people’s intelligence.

DR.

I think it worked.

DINK

Yup! That was a great idea.

DR.

Really great.

DINK

Great.

DR.

Really great.

DR.

So what now?

DINK

You know, I’ve always wanted to go to the beach.

DR.

Ah, the beach! Let’s go to the beach.

DR.

Um, wait, we’re stuck here in space.

DINK

Oh yeah. I know! You know how all matter has a gravitational pull, right?

DR.

Yeah…

DINK

Well, we’re made of matter. That means we have a gravitational pull. Let’s just wait until our gravitational pull brings us close to a planet. Then we can hop onto it and go to the beach.

DR.

Ah, great idea!

DINK

Truly great.

DR.

Great.

DINK

Great.

DINK

Are we there yet?

DR.

No, not yet. Wait, I think I see a flaw in our plan.

DINK

Yeah?

DR.

Won’t waiting for our gravitational pulls to bring us close to a planet take millions of years?

DINK

Oh yeah. Hmm. Well, I suppose we could just fast-forward until we get there.

DR.

Yeah that could work. Let’s talk about something intelligent and brilliant until we get there.

Fast-forward.

DINK

And that’s why Bill Mahr is the worst comedian ever.

DR.

Wow, that was a very intelligent conversation. And it’s probably the last one we’ll ever have too.

DINK

I’m glad we didn’t miss it!

DINK

Oh look, a planet!

DR.

It worked! Now, let’s jump down onto the planet and go to the beach. Ready?

DINK

Ready!

BOTH

Weee!

DR.

Wow, falling is fun!

DINK

Yeah, lots of fun. Wait, do you hear that?

DR.

What?

DINK

Listen.

They listen.

DR.

I don’t hear anything.

DINK

Exactly. We’re falling through a thick atmosphere right now. Shouldn’t we hear, like, wind or something.

DR.

Oh yeah. Plus, our space suits would be getting really hot from all the friction too, and would probably burn us to death.

DINK

Yeah but let’s ignore that one for now.

DR.

Ok. Here wind! Come back wind, we miss you!

Wind arrives.

DINK

There it is!

DR.

Yay! Now we are convincingly falling.

BOTH

Weeeee!

They thud to the ground.

DINK

Oh look, the beach!

DR.

Hooray! The beach! It’s as beautiful as I imagined.

DINK

Well, what should we do now?

DR.

Maybe we should retire.

DINK

What, you mean, have no more adventures in space?

DR.

Yeah.

DINK

So this little skit is the last Orcs in SPACE! ever?

DR.

Yeah, why not?

DINK

Ok, sounds good.

DR.

Ok. Well, good night!

DINK

Good night!

They snore.

NARRATOR

And thus, Orcs in SPACE! comes to an end. Or does it? Find out next time on Orcs, In SPACE!



HAT

Thanks for coming you guys. It’s good to get some friendly criticism.

OX

No sweat Hat! I wish you all the best on Orgrimmar Idol.

MORT

You’ll pwn that contest n00b.

HAT

Hey, where’s Stag?

OX

He’s still taking a shower. That rank he’s built up over the years doesn’t come out easy. But come on man, we’re here to listen to you sing—show us what you’ve got!

HAT

Ok, this first selection is from Gilbert & Sullivan’s, the Ruddigore. Ahem:

If I’d been so very lucky as to have a steady brother

who could talk to me as we are talking now to one another

who could give me good advice when he discovered I was erring

which is just the very favor which on you I am conferring

my existence would’ve made a rather interesting idyll

and I might have lived and died a very decent interwiddle

This particularly rapid unintelligible patter

isn’t generally heard and if it is and it doesn’t matter.

OX

Are you serious? That was awful!

HAT

Wh-what?

MORT

Yeah d00d you sounded like a canary choking on a gecko.

HAT

But that’s Gilbert & Sullivan! Surely the judges will recognize their brilliance?

OX

Sorry man, but it just sucks. Maybe try something that doesn’t send you into epileptic fits afterwards.

HAT

Um… ok, well, how about this:

Why does my heart cry? Feelings I can’t fight… you’re free to leave me, but just don’t deceive me, and please believe me when I say I love you! Roxane!

OX

Oh, that was so moving.

MORT

Yeah, it brings back memories

HAT

Ah, thanks!

MORT

Memories of constipation.

HAT

What?

OX

Constipation, that’s it, I was trying to remember what it reminded me of. Guess I should have said it was not moving, heh.

HAT

But that was from Roxanne! Ewan McGregor and Sting, man, how can you hate that?

OX

Look, this is Orgrimamr Idol. You need something catchy, something that demands attention and respect. Pull out the big guns!

MORT

Or do us a favor and not show up at all, lol.

HAT

Big guns, eh? All right, guess I could go with an old stand-by. How’s this:

Will not someone show compassion,

ere I hang in such a fashion

Will this once I let it go

just reply, say yes or no

just reply, say yes or no!

MORT

Noooo.

OX

I agree, nooooo.

HAT

Wait, I haven’t finished yet.

OX

Doesn’t matter, it’s already terrible.

Mort

Yeah, sounds like the noises Lacy made while giving birth.

OX

Wow, that conjures a really horrible image Mort.

MORT

Sorry.

OX

But yeah, I know what you mean. It sounds as bad as the noise made by a man getting a root canal, getting a colonoscopy, and suffering from an ingrown toenail, all at the same time.

HAT

But that’s Mozart!

OX

Yeah, well Mozart should stay dead.

HAT

GASP! No one insults Mozart! Have at you!

OX

Ahh! Let go of my tail! No, not there, that’s a sensitive area!

MORT

FTL! FTL! Owz0rz, omg! Ow ow ow!

HAT

Next time you’ll think twice about insulting Mozart! Good-day!

Ox

moaning

Uh, we need to get him a muzzle

Mort

moans