I've been a fan of the
Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest for many years, and so I thought it would be amusing if the august and highly intellectual—though not pompously so—denizens of f.ds share their own tales of woe, laughter, and Dominion (or Innovation or Mafia or whatever game strikes your whimsical fancy) in a thread devoted wholly to the writing style of a dark and stormy night.
