Bluffton students were recently if they have ever been disappointed in how a favorite book series ended, or if they can't wait until the next installment is published.

Tied to those questions, Bluffton Public Library created its first-ever teen fiction contest, according to Rikki Unterbrink.

Students were asked to submit an original short story 2,000 words or less with popular, "borrowed" characters for a chance to win fantastic books and prizes including a copy of "Inheritance" by Christopher Paolini.

Stories were to be based on a popular teen fiction series (including some or all characters, partial plot, etc). Entries were judged by BPL's Teen Advisory Group.

"Epitaph" is based on the Leviathan series by Scott Westerfeld (written by Lauren Bish) and the other three are written by Elizabeth Nisly and based on the Harry Potter series. Elizabeth's story, "The Ugly Truth About Rita Skeeter," won the grand prize.

The four entries follow as attachments to this story (at the bottom of the page). The winning story is also published below and as an attachment.

The Ugly Truth about Rita Skeeter
by Elizabeth Nisly
The Prophet's star reporter
At the old age of thirty
I don't have a conscience
I'm not afraid to play dirty
If you have a story,
I will dig it up
If you have nothing of interest
I'll just make it up
I spy and I sneak
I lurk and I blackmail
But you just have to accept
The things this job entails
I can change someone's career
With a twitch of my fingers
When I have dinner guests
None of them linger
Go ahead, bribe me
To keep my pen to myself
I may have a small stature
But I have a big mouth
Who cares what you'll give me
If you have some scandal or secret
And if you insult me
You'll come to regret it
If stories aren't coming
I'll make ones that aren't true
And if you aren't careful
They could feature you

Rita Skeeter peered over the top of the parchment at her younger sister.

"You wrote this about me?"

Rita's sister stuck her chin up defiantly. "So what if I did?"

Rita sneered unpleasantly at her. "It is so not accurate at all. I am 28 and three quarters, not thirty. And I hate having dinner guests anyways."

"You weren't even supposed to read it, Rita."

"It was on the kitchen table!"

"Yeah," Rita's sister said, "the kitchen table in my own house, which you barged into without knocking, and then proceeded to read something on my own kitchen table without my permission!"

"I only came to borrow a quill."

"Wow," Rita's sister said, "A reporter without a quill."

"I have a quill," Rita snapped, "But it's a Quick Quotes Quill, and Little Miss Perfect, Harry Potter's friend, doesn't like Quick Quotes Quills."

"You're interviewing Harry Potter? Tell him I said hi, would you?"

"Ugh!" Rita threw the poem back on the table disgustedly and stormed out of her sister's house.

Her sister grinned sheepishly. "Bye."

The next day, the headline on the Daily Prophet was: "Stephenie Skeeter Discovers an Alarming Amount of Lice in her Hair". It was accompanied by an unflattering picture of Rita's younger sister, Stephenie, scratching her head.

"Morning, Leroy," Rita said as she strode into the bread room. Leroy Benneck had been talking to Frank before Rita had walked in, but he stopped abruptly as soon as he saw her. "What were you talking about?" Rita asked, frowning.

Leroy swallowed nervously. "I was just telling Frank about the delicious meal you cooked when I came over for dinner last week. I'm sorry that I had to leave so soon."

Rita narrowed her eyes. "Is that all?"

Frank laughed. "From what he said, I'd never want to-"

"Shut up," Leroy hissed.

Frank cleared his throat. "I'd never want to turn down an invitation from you." Rita scowled at the pair of them. Frank and Leroy smiled sweetly. A few days later, there was an article entitled: "The Pick and Flick: a Nose Picking Technique Perfected by Leroy Benneck". Below the headline, there was a picture of Leroy subtly picking his nose.

Rita walked into her favorite pub, The Leaky Cauldron. There was a young couple sitting in her favorite table. No one sat at her favorite table. Rita snapped her fingers. "Up."

The young woman looked up. "What?"

"Up. Get up. You are sitting at my favorite table. You have no right to sit at my favorite table. Get up, out of my favorite table."

The woman looked slightly disgruntled, but she started to gather her things together. The man put his hand on her arm. "No, Lisa. We were here first. We don't have to leave."

Rita pulled out her quill. "Lisa, is it? Do you have a quote about how you feel? Betrayed? Confused? Determined?"

Lisa opened her mouth, but the man cut across her. "I know who this is, Lisa. This is the humiliated ex-Prophet reporter, Rita Skeeter."

"I still work for the Prophet!" Rita said, "I'm just technically not allowed to publish anything. I still have a lot of influence, let me tell you. I could do some research about you, Lisa. I could convince someone to write a nasty article about you. I could write one myself. No one has to know I wrote it. "

The woman looked disconcerted. "Please don't. If I get an unflattering article written about me, I think I would lose my job."

The man frowned. "Lisa-"

"No, Ben, I don't want to lose my job! I need the money. Rita, I'll give you three sickles if you don't publish a nasty article about me."

"Hmm," Rita said, spotting something in the lady's purse. "I don't want money. I want those tickets to see Rocky Diehard in concert."

Lisa reached into her purse. "Lisa," the man protested, "I gave those to you!"

Lisa squared her jaw. "And now I'm giving them to Rita Skeeter. I like my job."

"No, Lisa, don't."

"I can make my own decisions, Ben."

"No, you can't-" Ben seemed to realize his mistake, because he cut himself off.

"Oh," Lisa said, raising her eyebrows. "You think that I can't make my own decisions, is that what it is."

"That's not what I-"

Lisa stood up, throwing the tickets at Rita. "We are so over, Ben. By the way, Rita, his name is Benjamin Cartwright. You might be interested to do some research about his under the table dragon blood sales."

Rita grabbed some more ink for her quill and started scribbling. "This is great," she muttered, "Disgraced ex-...hmm, what was your job, Ben?" Ben didn't reply. He just stared after Lisa's retreating form.

"I was going to propose," he said miserably, "today." He dug a little box out of his pocket. Inside was a sparkling ring.

"Interesting," Rita said, as her scribbling increased in speed. Ben shook his head disgustedly and left the pub. Rita sat down at her favorite table.

The next week was the Rocky Diehard concert. Lisa had given Rita two tickets, and she used the extra seat for her camera and other illegal recording devices. After the end of the concert, Rita joined the queue outside of Rocky Diehard's changing room. Even though her press badge technically didn't apply in this setting, Rita used it, along with some well-placed elbows, to get a spot right outside the door. "I'd like to interview Rocky," she said to the security guard.

"Oh," the big wizard said, "So you're on first-name basis with Mr. Diehard?"

"I really need a quick word-"

"Yeah, and so do all of those other people too. So shut up. Mr. Diehard doesn't have the time."

"Really, Mister..." Rita read the name tag on his shirt. "Mr. Carlton Shiner. I just might have to write an article about you."

"You do that," he said unconcernedly."

"Hmph." Rita crossed her arms and tapped her pointy shoe, waiting for Rocky Diehard to appear of his own free will. A few minutes passed, and Rita felt like her eardrums were going to explode, from all the cheering fans. One girl had lit her hair on fire to demonstrate the level of her devotion to Rocky Diehard. Rita was about to leave, when the changing room door finally opened. Rocky Diehard and his purple braid and his black-as-night sunglasses and his lime green guitar came swaggering out of the door.

Immediately, the screaming of the fans intensified in volume. Rita shouted something to Rocky Diehard, but he couldn't hear anything. She was sure if he could hear her, he would want to sing a song dedicated to her. After all, who wouldn't? She had to make herself hear, before Rocky Diehard's chance was lost forever. She didn't want to deprive him of this great opportunity.

Rita pulled out her wand, pointed it at her throat, and muttered, "Sonorous."

"Hey, everyone!" No one paid any attention to her magically magnified voice, and Rocky Diehard was getting away. "EVERYBODY! SHUT UP!"

Gradually, the yelling died down, and Rita got some dirty looks, especially from Carlton Shiner the security guard, and the girl who lit herself on fire. "Rocky Diehard," Rita said, "Sing me a song."

Rocky's purple eyebrows drew together. "Sing me a song," Rita insisted, "Or I'll ruin your career, just like I did for Leana Bricker. Sing me a song now!"

Rocky pulled his guitar around to the front of his body. He strummed it. Then he sang:

"Oh my snarling, Oh my snarling
Oh my s-n-a-a-a-r-l-i-n-g clementine
You should stay lost and gone forever
Oh my snarling clementine,"

Rocky left then, pushing through the crowd. Rita stared after him, a malicious smile on her face. "So that's how you wanna play," she said. She pulled out her Quick Quotes Quill. Rocky Diehard's career declined quickly after that. People would forever wonder why he ruined his amazing career at the height of his fame, just to get a few extra bucks dealing dragon blood with some nobody, Benjamin Cartwright. A few diehard fans still attended Rocky's concerts, but he lost much of his fame. No one ever doubted the power of the printed word.

Rita Skeeter had successfully ruined another person's life.

You could be next.