His Abs: Like a Muffin Pan

So, as you probably realized from my piece of genius "Bella Goes Grocery Shopping," I occasionally amuse myself by trying to write like Stephenie Meyer. I guess I just like the feeling that comes from writing overwrought, ridiculous descriptions and the cackling that follows (from me). My most recent efforts were for a writing contest sponsored by BYU's Daily Universe. The idea was to write, in 100 words or less, something to embody her style (described by them as "overearnest") although the entries didn't have to be Twilight related. You could submit three entries, and even though I think this was for BYU students, I entered anyway. No, I didn't win, but one of my sentences was picked for a "Favorite Sentence." So, here are my entries and you can try to figure out what that sentence was. Then you can check out the article and see if your guess was right (and read the winners).

Before school I spotted Edward's shiny Volvo as it whipped into the driveway. Sometimes that silver car reminded me of him--sleek, pale, fast, a model of aerodynamics. The hard, shiny exterior that was all softness on the inside. As Edward himself stepped out of the car with the lightness of a gazelle I tossed away the inadequate analogy. How could that dull piece of metal and leather compare to this living Adonis in my driveway? Metal was so pedestrian. Leather was just cow hides. Edward was flawless. A perfect sculpture made of some stone too beautiful for this world.*

Jacob. Just the thought of his name sent conflicting emotions running through me like rampant, untamed wildfire. On one hand, Jacob was my best friend. Comforting. Warm as the fading embers of a La Push campfire. He was perfectly selfless, willing to do almost anything I could ever ask. Then there was the other Jacob. That Jacob was strong, with abs like a muffin pan, arms as thick and muscled as a python and pectorals that looked like soft, fluffy pillows. Soft, fluffy pillows made of rocks. Soft, fluffy pillows that felt like iron under my hands, my cheek...**

Alice was the kind of girl that all other girls (except Rosalie, of course) were dying to be. Her heart-shaped face--the color of cold milk--was sweet, naive and, above all else, desperately and enchantingly beautiful. Her petite size only added to the illusion that she was as harmless as an exotic butterfly. But I knew that behind that delicate facade there was the power to truculently destroy any threat.*** I sometimes wondered if her wardrobe of designer peasant tops and couture ruffled skirts was a calculated move to trick any potential enemy into underestimating her.

The prizes for the top three involved tickets to New Moon. That would have been nice since I think the best way to see a Twilight movie involves freeness, but what the heck, I have a ticket anyway (I know, I know). I'll probably be breaking out the "Team Jacob" shirt again, but should I have the wherewithal for a new Twilight shirt, I would most definitely get this one. If you have the wherewithal, I would encourage you to buy one because it is awesome and then I would have cause to shake my fist at you and your wherewithal.

*This first entry was adapted from another little short story I wrote a month ago or so. You know that Edward vs. a Velociraptor poll that is still on the sidebar? Yeah, that's what it's about.

**Credit goes to Drew for the phrase "soft, fluffy pillows."

***Drew challenged me to use the word "truculent." He just loves those "Word of the Day" e-mails.