Poor Sir Edward George Bulwer-Lytton.

The guy was a baron, a secretary of state, a playwright, and a novelist, yet today he is mainly remembered for the opening line of his novel Paul Clifford:

"It was a dark and stormy night and the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."

It wasn't ignoble enough that the line came to be parodied by a typewriting beagle in countless Peanuts comics... Bulwer-Lytton had to end up like some muse for bad writing, lending his name to a yearly contest for the worst opening line to an imaginary novel.

And now, without further adieu, here are the winner and runner-up of the 2003 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.

Winner "They had but one last remaining night together, so they embraced each other as tightly as that two-flavor entwined string cheese that is orange and yellowish-white, the orange probably being a bland Cheddar and the white . . . Mozzarella, although it could possibly be Provolone or just plain American, as it really doesn't taste distinctly dissimilar from the orange, yet they would have you believe it does by coloring it differently."

Ms. Mariann Simms
Wetumpka, AL

Runner-Up
"The flock of geese flew overhead in a "V" formation - not in an old-fashioned-looking Times New Roman kind of a "V", branched out slightly at the two opposite arms at the top of the "V", nor in a more modern-looking, straight and crisp, linear Arial sort of "V" (although since they were flying, Arial might have been appropriate), but in a slightly asymmetric, tilting off-to-one-side sort of italicized Courier New-like "V" - and LaFonte knew that he was just the type of man to know the difference."

John Dotson (U.S. Naval Officer)
Arlington, VA

Grand Panjandrum's Special Prize
"Colin grabbed the switchgear and slammed the spritely Vauxhall Vixen into a lower gear as he screamed through the roundabout heading toward the familiar pink rowhouse in Puking-On-The-Wold, his mind filled with the image of his comely Olive, dressed in some lacy underthing, waiting on the couch with only a smile and a cucumber sandwich, hoping that his lunch hour would provide sufficient time for both a naughty little romp and a digestive biscuit."

Randy Groom
Visalia, CA

If you believe you can take more of this beyond-the-purple prose, feel free to check out the complete list of winners.