“Do you swear to uphold all that is Ficly?” Kevin demanded.

“We do.” Each author said in turn.

Kevin was satisfied and presented them the secret Ficly URL.

At first all was silent, the authors weren’t used to the newness of Ficly. The lack of Orange, Black and Yellow, the absence of the occasional “Whoops, Something’s Broken!” message. But within the hour, the tattered remnants of Ficletdom became members of FiclyNation.

The telltale signs of Ficleteers at work began to show; the groans from Lone Writer’s outrageous wordplays, the laughs at THX’s unfettered wit, the gasps of comprehension from something Deep written by Mistress Elsha Hawk. Writer’s were groaning, laughing, crying and banging their keyboards in frustration.

Kevin oversaw the cacophony of calamitous creativity and grinned to himself. This is the reason for Ficly. He thought. This is Pure Awesomeness.