Famer's Story-Writing Debate Tournament Round #1 DakotaKrafick VS Logic_on_rails

Deafening silence greeted the jubilant outburst. All of Aremair’s ladies had their hands over their mouth, shocked. Lenny looked on at the situation, confused. And that mysterious woman – she was smiling!There was a puzzle that Lenny could not solve:Who did Aremair truly love?Oh he had no clue, best to absolveAnd yet, to shine intellectually as a dove...“We have a problem,” said Larry curtly. “The only person who can solve this riddle is Aremair. I ask, was the answer true?”Aremair was in a terrible bindStruck by a horrible decisionSay ‘yes’ and face a most horrid grindOf former lovers anguished precisionOr say no and cause a terrible uproarFace the cries of ‘liar!’ and ‘fiend!’Oh the terrible furoreWas there no other answer that could be gleaned?How do I fall upon my sword? My gallantry be so adoredThat I could ill-affordTo be so abhorred... [Internal monologue for this stanza]Finally the answer cameAnd Aremair’s wit was aflameWith a gentle smile Aremair began to speak, his words flowing smoothly as silk. A web of beauty to spin. All he needed was the right words.“My good friends, I am touched by this riddle. I am called gentlemen, and honoured within. A true gentleman sticks to fidelity; he is chaste, he-““Get to the point Aremair. We’re not here to listen to you prattle on,” stated Lenny, his manner brusque and gruff.“My apologies. As I was saying, a gentleman is chaste, but he is of the kindest disposition to all. I fear that this fair lady has mistaken my friendly overtures for something deeper. I wish I could be the closest of friends with every lady, but I am true to a lady – a different lady.” Fair and kind-hearted Aremair soundedBut oh how he had mislead;So shocking was his words that the lady was astoundedAnd the tears began to flow with harrowing speed“Lady, what is your next riddle? And to whom do you address it” asked Lenny. The woman smiled, her mind racing with fun. Not a bad try Aremair; you didn’t fall just like that, but you’ve left a terrible hole in that false armour of chivalry.“I shall ask the same riddle again.” A murmur ran through the crowd - what was the lady’s plan? “I ask this question... to Aremair!” she boldly pronounced.The crowd burst into a frenzy. Why ask a question when the answer could only be known by the person answering? Why give a free question to Aremair?“To me? But my lady, how could I not know whom I am pledged to? I am confused as to why you ask. All you’ll do is give me a free question. Do you know how foolish that would be?” The lady smiled, and watched as a drop of sweat appeared on Aremair’s furrowed brow as she said:“Lenny, start the hourglass.” Aremair stood as if in eternally silenceFor what could he do?He’d tried to save his alliance,Yet that lady had served him up as one would chocolate fondue...He could say it was no one, and trust that all of his ladies to remain quiet. He could pick the woman herself and cause a furious uproar. Now that would be funny indeed! However, that was assuredly a loss. Or, he could pick the sharpest of those he had seduced and hope to succeed amidst every other lady turning against him and ripping into him. Death by a thousand cuts, even if the blades were terribly dull. There was only one real choice.“I fear my lady is mistaken. A love you know? No, I have no lover sorry to say. Great friends and the confidant of many, but not that lover of the tales of yore.” Silence hung in the air for a bare second, until the lady smiled knowingly. This excuse was doomed to fail, given his earlier talk.“But moments ago you said to that weeping lady in the stands ‘but I am true to a lady – a different lady’. You’re lying; that’s grounds for disqualification!” Aremair looked around at the stern faces. His doom, closing in, closing in.“No, you misunderstand me. A lady from another village. You know, the love you don’t, er... know. Yes, that’s right. I said ‘A love you know? No’. Another village!” “But you’ve never left Lemore,” said Lenny. “And you said ‘I have no lover sorry to say’” cried the lady.“Yes. You play the crowd false Aremair!” shouted Lenny, well into his stride. Aremair was in a terrible spot of botherYet a lady helps her man in troubleAnd so many cried “I am his significant other!’Yet then the trouble was doubleIt was clear that Aremair had liedHe had just played the crowd falseHe had led his ladies to a false yuletideEverybody had to ask – did he have a human pulse?“Would you have him disqualified?” asked Lenny do that woman from yonder.“No. Let him face the onslaught of the many.”And so it was that Aremair solidered on against the manyHe thrust a dozen riddles at his former alliesBut they numbered a near twentyAnd he soon had to capsizeYet he took most of his allies down in the furious struggleNary 10 survived wit’s deadliest maulingNo one remained a vassalBut there remained an intellectual brawl...The riddles flew with verveThe riddles flew with a blinding whirlSo sharp as to rustle a nerve!And to solve required a jump, a sprint and finally a twirlThe furious assault continued until only 5 contestants stood. Lenny the Fiddler, the mysterious woman, a grey haired gentleman, a bookish middle aged woman and a nondescript young man were all that remained in the Contest of Riddles...--------------------I shall turn it over to Dakota. We still have 2 rounds left after all.