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700 lines
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____________________________________________________________________________
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### ### # # # # #### # # ### # # # ##### ##### ####
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*****NUMBERS 126 TO 130***********BY DANIEL BOWEN (tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu)*****
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"21st Century Toxic Custard"
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___________ __________________ __________________
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|TOXIC CUSTA| |Written by Daniel | |at he has. But he'|
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|RD WORKSHOP| |__________ Bowen i| |s usua ___________|
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|FILES - Num| __________|n one o| |lly ok|___________
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|ber 126, 14| |f thos ___________| |ay onc _____ e he'|
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|th of Decem| |e mome|___________ |s take|_____|n all|
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|ber, 1992. | |nts of insanity th| |of his medication.|
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|___________| |__________________| |__________________|
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MRS IRENE BUSYBODY SPEAKS OUT ON...
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Charity. The Brotherhood of St Lawrence sent around one of those
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collection bags last week. So we put our used tinnies in it - they'll T
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get a surprise when they pick it up on Monday morning! Now, don't think h
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I'm unsympathetic to the poor, but it's their own fault - they're only e
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poor because they don't have any money. They should cheat the dole like
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everyone else. We managed to get Fred on an invalid pension, and he's Q
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just thick. And that doesn't stop him working as a brickie most days u
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Now, I know what you're thinking; you're thinking "old bitch, cheating e
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the Social Security.." Well I have to. 'Cos taxes are so high. If we e
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didn't cheat, we'd never have any money for smokes or booze. n
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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w
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A WORD ABOUT TECHNOLOGY a
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Never listen to any sales pitch that claims a miracle new "21st s
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Century" device. It's bound to be crap. By the time that the 21st
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century actually arrives, they'll be calling marvy new stuff "22nd i
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century". The 21st century is nine years away, for heaven sakes. How n
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insulted do you think we would be if back in 1983 they had been
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claiming that the latest gadgets were "1990s technology"? Yes, the O
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latest brand-new incredible 1990s technology- the Commodore 64 x
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computer!!... the IBM PC-XT!!!... the incredible new VHS f
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video-recorder! (with cord remote control!!!!)... o
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - r
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d
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This week a new Police Art Exhibition opens at the State Bank Centre
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Galleria in Melbourne. Amongst the many creations on display by members y
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of the police force are: e
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- portrait of suspect climbing through house window s
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- diagram of truck collision in South Road t
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- montage image of wanted man Arnold Psychopath e
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- cubist rendition of a bank hold-up r
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- line sketch in chalk of corpse d
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - a
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y
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MR POPSICLE RETURNS - Part 8
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t
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Inspector Sideburn, substitute detective from the temp agency, had o
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reached a dead-end in his hunt for the armed robbers. So he backed out
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of the No Through Road and went back to the local police station to do o
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somethingking in his office. Sideburn thought about the problem for a p
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while, considered his promise to beat up some suspects by episode e
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eight, and decided to get out of the office and go and find some n
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suspects to beat up. A promise was a promise, after all. He had made
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the pledge in the pub, the Chicken And Bucket, a few days ago, to the a
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author, in an effort to ensure that the story kept moving.
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In the Chicken And Bucket, there were rumblings. Not to mention two n
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vomits, one collapse and no less than four drunken stupors. It was back e
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here that Sideburn made his way, to hunt out a few criminal types, to w
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get a drink, and most of all, to try and win back his money off that
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damn poker machine. After collecting a dubious-looking beverage from m
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the barman, he spied a likely-looking suspect: "Scar" Seymour, infamous a
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for being a buddy of the nasty, a foe of the friendly, and loose of the r
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bowel. r
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Sideburn sidled his way over to Seymour and sat down next to him, i
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taking care to hold his nose in the least obvious way possible. "Scar" a
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Seymour let one of his killer glares loose in Sideburn's direction, but g
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it flew past him and hit some poor bastard coming out of the gents'. e
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"What the fucking hell do you fucking want, Sideburn, you fucking
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cunt?" g
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"Cut the pleasantries Scar. I'm here on business." u
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"Oh yeah? Is that a fucking fact? Number ones or number twos?" i
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Sideburn decided to show him which of the two, and picked up Scar d
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by the lapels on his grey jacket and dragged him towards the toilet. a
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The other patrons were quite used to this sort of thing, and hardly n
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took any notice. After all, what people wanted to do in the toilet was c
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their business, and anyway, the condom machine was fully stocked. e
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But Sideburn had other matters on his mind this time, and he shoved
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Scar into the toilet, into the unoccupied (and significantly less c
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clean) cubicle and thence into the toilet bowl, before flushing. He e
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muttered something about scum before dragging Scar back out and somehow n
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squeezing his head into the clean and hygienic warm air hand-dryer for t
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a few seconds. The auto-beam went into action, and Scar got an instant, r
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and very bad, blow wave. e
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Scar was quite shook-up by this, and became more placid. As one .
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would.
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"Now Scar, I think you know why I'm here."
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"To fucking generally terrorise innocent crims and look tough in
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your shitkickers?"
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"Yeah. But stop swearing, will you? You're just going to shock the
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readers."
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"Oh c'mon, the fucking readers never get offended by this shit
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anymore, it's all so fucking predictable."
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"So gimme the info!"
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"Look Sideburn, I never fucking touched those sheep. It was my twin
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fucking brother.."
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"Not that! The robbery. Who did it?"
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"I dunno Mr Sideburn, fucking honest I don't."
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"Oh yeah? Shall we see if that nose of yours likes the smell of the
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urinal?"
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"All right, all right! I heard Jake might be fucking around doing
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something."
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Sideburn smiled a smile so big you could see the three gaps in his
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teeth. He thanked Scar for his trouble, tipped him ten cents, returned
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to the bar, finished his drink, plus one more, plus another, plus one
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for the road, staggered out and drove back to his office to sleep it
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off. He slept long and snored loud, until he woke suddenly in episode
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nine.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Join us next time for the '92 TCWF Christmas
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Special! And if you'd like to give some poor
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sod (or sodette) a special gift of a bunch
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of TCWF back-issues, they're all available
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by ftp. Reply to this message, or send mail
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to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen.
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--
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Daniel Bowen, Monash University |
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Melbourne, Australia------------| "We all live in a mellow submarine..."
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daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| - The Jamaican Beatles
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TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu |
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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"Christmassssssy Toxic Custard"
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T
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O X
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I C C
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U S T A
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R D W O R
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K S H O P F
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I L E S 1 2 7
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2 1 s t O f D e
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c e m b e r 1 9 9
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2 W r i t t e n B y
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D a n i e l B o w e n
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#####
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#####
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Christmas comes but once a year
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And just now, it is quite near
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So get your shopping into gear
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For all the rellies you hold dear
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Or next time you will get mere
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Socks and ties you'll never wear* *rotten rhyme, eh?
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And year after year after year after year
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Crap presents from all far and near
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Christmas comes but once a year
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And when it does, drink lots of beer
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But don't get drunk and eat your ear
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Or all your friends will no doubt jeer
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So on second thoughts, forget the beer
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Just fall asleep and you will hear
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The sound of Santa and reindeer
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Skulling all your nice cold beer
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Christmas comes but once a year
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But down in Oz it's downright weird
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With sun, heat and roos, but no deer
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No snow, ice or polar bears*
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So how does Santa's sleigh get here?
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The last line comes soon I fear
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I don't know what to write, oh dear!
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So I'll wimp out and mention Germaine Greer
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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THE TWELVE QUOTES OF CHRISTMAS
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1. I hate Christmas. It's so bloody nice.
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2. Who is this guy Noel, anyway?
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3. Christmas is totally sexist. The tree is such a phallic symbol, and
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Father Christmas is just symbolic of child-abusing fat uncles.
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4. We've only got a flue; I hope Santa's been on a diet.
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5. Whatever you want for Christmas, you're not getting it.
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6. Boxing day is when you work your way through the house, throwing out
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all the boxes.
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7. Be looking out for that annual tv news story about the eccentric
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Finnish bloke who rides around in a sleigh wearing a Father
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Christmas outfit.
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8. Christmas comes but once a year. If it came twice, then the
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Christians would be confused. And the retailers would be
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over the moon.
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9. Australia isn't the ideal environment for sleighs. In Australia,
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it's rumoured that Santa does his rounds in a milk truck.
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Pulled by kangaroos. Flying, rather than bouncing, I presume.
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10. The week after Christmas is to recover from Christmas dinner just
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in time for the New Year's Eve parties.
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11. Rudolph, will you and your nose stop showing off!
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12. Excuse me driver, is this your sled? Have you got your reindeer
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license handy?
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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THE TOXIC CUSTARD INTERVIEW
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Yes folks, this time we've managed to track down that elusive man of the
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moment, Mr Santa Claus. We looked up Claus in the phonebook, and we found...
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S. M. Claus of Cheltenham, Victoria. Bet you never knew he lived downunder, eh?
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Anyway, we gave him a buzz and asked if he was Santa Claus, and he said "No!
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Bugger off, I'm just a distant cousin." But before he hung up in disgust, he
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did give us the right number. So, we made sure we were signed up with the
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Telecom North Pole Flexiplan, and gave him a ring. And here's what happened.
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GOOD MORNING. CLAUS ENTERPRISES, YOU WANT 'EM, WE GIVE 'EM.
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- Good morning. Is that Santa Claus?
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NO, THIS IS CHIEF ELF FRED SPEAKING.
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- Ah. Is Santa there please?
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ERM.. I'LL JUST SEE. SHALL I SAY WHO'S CALLING?
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- Just tell him it's Toxic Custard
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SANTA! A MR. CUSTARD FOR YOU!... HE'S JUST COMING.
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- Thank you.
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YO, SANTA HERE. HOW YOU DOIN', MAN?
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- Good morning Santa. Sorry to bother you at such an obviously busy time, but
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we were wondering if we could interview.
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WHAT IS UP MAN? YOU WANT TO WISH FOR SANTA TO BRING YOU SOMETIN'? YOU GO
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THROUGH MY REQUESTS SECRETARY, PLEASE.
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- No no, we actually wanted to know how you got the job.
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WELL, I SAW THE POST ADVERTISED, AND I APPLIED, YOU KNOW? IT ISN'T OFTEN THAT
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SOMETHING THIS PROMISING COMES ALONG. NICE LODGINGS... COMPANY SLEIGH... THE
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CHANCE TO HHHHHHHO YOUR HEAD OFF... AND THE JOB ONLY TAKES ONE MONTH A YEAR.
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WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR? NOW WHAT YOU DAMN CHILDREN WANT FOR CHRISTMAS? YOU
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WANT A NEW GHETTO-BLASTER? I GOT SOME LOVELY WEED HERE FOR YOU, MAN.
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+
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=|= S E A S O N S G R E E T I N G S
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Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen. ==|==
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-- ===|=== or, re-arranged,
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Daniel Bowen, Monash University | ====|====
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Melbourne, Australia------------| | S E E G I A N T N O S E S (rg)
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daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| #####
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TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | #####
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_______________________________________________________________________________
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"Nevesforewopehtotowt Toxic Custard"
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F A R E W E L L T O
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****** ****
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***************** ***************
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************************ **********************
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****** ********** ******** ***********
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***** ********* ******* **********
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****** ******** **********
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****** ********* **********
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****** ********** **********
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****** ********** **********
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********** *********** **********
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************************* **********
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******************* **********
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*********** ***********
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*********** *************
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Toxic ********** ***********
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Custard ********** *********
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Workshop ********* *********
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Files ******** *********
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Number 128 ******* ******************************
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28th of ******** *******************************
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December ******* ********************************
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Farewell to ninety-two
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What a funny year it's been
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With Windsor castle burnt to a crisp
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And taxes for the Queen
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While Charles and Di untied the knot
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Anne re-tied her rope
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But Fergie and that Texan guy
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Just wanted a quick grope
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America showed how it loved
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To be ruled under Bush
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Now all George can do is say
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About the Contras, "Shhhh!"
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Spaniards went Olympic mad
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With all the usual stuff
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S While much to Dan Quayle's dismay
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o Murphy got up the duff
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,
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This state got a new gov'
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w And I don't want to be rude
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h But it now looks like we all have
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a Been well and truly screwed
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t
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Batman flew, and flopped again,
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w The Pope went under the knife
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i Custard readers went without
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l While I married my wife
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l
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They said the recession would end
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h But they were wrong again
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a Jobs down, deficit up
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p *AND* those bloody late trains
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p
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|
|
e The USSR fell apart
|
||
|
|
n Toxikistan free at last
|
||
|
|
Yugoslavia tried the same trick
|
||
|
|
i Which was a complete blast
|
||
|
|
n
|
||
|
|
A Korean sect thought the world
|
||
|
|
' Had reached the apocalypse
|
||
|
|
9 The troops arrived in Somalia
|
||
|
|
3 And even shut up peaceniks
|
||
|
|
?
|
||
|
|
It's been a year both good and bad
|
||
|
|
W But don't despair, you see
|
||
|
|
e For all in all it can't be worse
|
||
|
|
l Than nineteen ninety-three!
|
||
|
|
l
|
||
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
|
||
|
|
h
|
||
|
|
o WARNING!
|
||
|
|
w DO NOT READ THIS NOTICE
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
s People who read this notice will be burnt alive in a cauldron of
|
||
|
|
h boiling oil, cut up into little pieces and fed to the alligators. But
|
||
|
|
o first, we'll torture these people. We'll be really nasty. We'll call
|
||
|
|
u them names. We'll subject them to endless poetry. And when they're
|
||
|
|
l really really sick of that, *then* we'll burn them alive.
|
||
|
|
d No! First, before we're really nasty to them, we'll be really nice
|
||
|
|
to them, just to make the nastiness that little bit more nasty. We'll
|
||
|
|
I give them cakes. We'll take them for picnics in the country. We'll give
|
||
|
|
them big parcels with fluffy teddy-bears inside. And *then* we'll be
|
||
|
|
k really nasty to them.
|
||
|
|
n But wait! Before we're really nice to them, we'll be impartial to
|
||
|
|
o them! We'll ignore them mercilessly. We'll pretend to be interested in
|
||
|
|
w what they're talking about, but actually pay no notice whatsoever.
|
||
|
|
? We'll contradict them, interrupt them, agree and then contradict them
|
||
|
|
again all in the same sentence. And *then* we'll be really nice to
|
||
|
|
- them.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
|
||
|
|
'
|
||
|
|
m MR POPSICLE RETURNS - Part 9
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
n Inspector Sideburn had a name. Jake. It wasn't *his* name, it was a
|
||
|
|
o name he'd picked up in a pub toilet. Normally he protected himself
|
||
|
|
t against picking up things in toilets, but in this case, it was a name
|
||
|
|
he'd been looking for. Inspector Sideburn, you see, was hunting the
|
||
|
|
b culprits of an armed robbery which had been committed what seemed like
|
||
|
|
l a lifetime ago. And probably was. So, as the author munched his way
|
||
|
|
o through yet another Toblerone, Sideburn knew that this name would be
|
||
|
|
o handy.
|
||
|
|
d The name "Jake" was, Sideburn postulated, connected to the surname
|
||
|
|
y "McGiggin". Jake McGiggin was a well known person of criminal
|
||
|
|
tendencies, which in Sideburn's book, made him a villain. McGiggin was
|
||
|
|
N also owner of McGiggin's Rock Quarry ("We Love Getting Our Rocks Off").
|
||
|
|
o So Sideburn decided that he should go and discuss his suspicions,
|
||
|
|
s beliefs, worries, personal problems and possible solutions with
|
||
|
|
t McGiggin. Man to man. Or, allowing for suitable police back-up, man to
|
||
|
|
r man with half-a-dozen heavily armed colleagues. And he didn't mean
|
||
|
|
a fellow police officers with thick elbows.
|
||
|
|
d When Sideburn got to the quarry with his henchmen err colleagues,
|
||
|
|
a he found Mr McGiggin, and sat him down in the obligatory darkened
|
||
|
|
m office with one piercingly bright lamp to have a little chat. In fact
|
||
|
|
u Sideburn had brought along with him a special police van equipped with
|
||
|
|
s such an office. The Intimidating Room Module was a recent police
|
||
|
|
, development which had revolutionised interviews.
|
||
|
|
"Well Jake. I hear you've been up to a thing or two."
|
||
|
|
a "Err... yeah. Well, you know, I *did* buy a new dinner set for my
|
||
|
|
m mother-in-law's birthday. But I didn't think that was a criminal
|
||
|
|
offence no more, Mr Sideburn."
|
||
|
|
I "Shut up Jake. Now just listen. Stop playing games. Put the chess
|
||
|
|
? set away. I wanna know about the robbery."
|
||
|
|
"Robbery? What robbery?"
|
||
|
|
The interrogation err interview carried on like this for several
|
||
|
|
dozen more paragraphs. But as luck would have it, the readers were
|
||
|
|
spared of this, and picked up the story just as Sideburn left the
|
||
|
|
quarry, without a confession, without any evidence, but with a rather
|
||
|
|
bad mood, which he relieved by kicking the police station cat when he
|
||
|
|
got back.
|
||
|
|
He had to admit it - he just couldn't crack this case. It had him
|
||
|
|
bewildered. There were less leads to this case there were leads in a
|
||
|
|
pet shop at the end of "Take Your Dog For A Walk" week.
|
||
|
|
There was only one solution. One which would be predictable to
|
||
|
|
those readers more acquainted with the ways of these pathetic stories.
|
||
|
|
Call in the experts. They'd solve it. The pros. The Australian Royal
|
||
|
|
Security Establishment.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
||
|
|
Yes, Popsicle finally makes an appearance
|
||
|
|
next week in Toxic Custard! But I still
|
||
|
|
wouldn't recommend holding your breath
|
||
|
|
until then, because you'll suffocate. For
|
||
|
|
details about olde Toxic Custard
|
||
|
|
Workshoppe Files, mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
|
||
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
||
|
|
Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen.
|
||
|
|
--
|
||
|
|
Daniel Bowen, Monash University | Good luck for the New Year, and try not to
|
||
|
|
Melbourne, Australia------------| get squished during the after-Christmas
|
||
|
|
daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| sales. Also try to avoid falling through
|
||
|
|
TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | glass doors, being trampled on the
|
||
|
|
escalators, but above all, GET THAT BARGAIN!
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
||
|
|
"Junk Toxic Custard Mail"
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
N Starting MONDAY!!! We present the COMPLETELY FUCKING
|
||
|
|
TOXIC RIDICULOUS PRICES sale! Bargains to be had by whoever
|
||
|
|
NUMBER has the most elbow power! [Limited stocks only]
|
||
|
|
FILES
|
||
|
|
TWENTY * shove your way to the Home Entertainment department
|
||
|
|
A for televisions only $50 each! [7 only!]
|
||
|
|
WORKSHOP
|
||
|
|
R D U B * wrestle into the Whitegoods department for big
|
||
|
|
I JANUARY fridges the sizes of houses with 60 compartments
|
||
|
|
T D each now only $200!!!! [5 only!]
|
||
|
|
T FOURTH
|
||
|
|
BOWEN N E * bayonet your way past the crowds into Furniture and
|
||
|
|
N E DANIEL be the only one in your street to have a $3000
|
||
|
|
N leather lounge suite for only $10! [5 only!]
|
||
|
|
D
|
||
|
|
* machine-gun everyone and you might have the chance
|
||
|
|
of grabbing full-scale working replica of the Space
|
||
|
|
Shuttle, at a never to be repeated price of only 50
|
||
|
|
cents!! [1 only!]
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
* shop your way into casualty! Break two legs and
|
||
|
|
get a third limb of your choice, free!
|
||
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Oh wow man... I think I must have, like, died. That is, all my vibes
|
||
|
|
are like, being separated from my physical existence... I guess wearing S
|
||
|
|
that bike helmet would have been a pretty groovy thing to do after all. y
|
||
|
|
Whoa, spaced out, man.. this is quite a view... all sorts of colours d
|
||
|
|
and rainbow effects... Whoever's on this gig must have a Quantel. I n
|
||
|
|
never had a trip as groovy as this... Hey, my life just, like, flashed e
|
||
|
|
before me... wow, all those memories... my first pair of flares... tie- y
|
||
|
|
dying my shirts... tie-dying those socks... underwear... buying those -
|
||
|
|
groovy crystal spiritual fulfilment beads, man, what a bargain at only
|
||
|
|
$15 each... getting my first Donovan album (I dunno why God gave Jason t
|
||
|
|
Donovan the same name, man.. it's just not justice)... missing out on h
|
||
|
|
getting any chicks at Woodstock 'cos I was too shy, and didn't wanna e
|
||
|
|
sexually threaten them with chat-ups, and didn't know any chat-ups, and
|
||
|
|
was nine thousand miles away... Groovy... wide ties... hey, this is o
|
||
|
|
just last month! ... long collars... corduroy jackets, oh yeah, I love n
|
||
|
|
all that stuff... getting my first lecturing job at the arts faculty, l
|
||
|
|
yeah... ah, what a life... y
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
GOOD MORNING. c
|
||
|
|
i
|
||
|
|
Oh, hi man! I was just, like, relating to my environment, you know? t
|
||
|
|
y
|
||
|
|
DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?
|
||
|
|
w
|
||
|
|
Well, judging from, like, your sort of red colour scheme, those bad h
|
||
|
|
karma horns and shit... you're... the devil? e
|
||
|
|
r
|
||
|
|
CORRECT. AND YOU, HIPPY, WILL SPEND ETERNAL DAMNATION AMONGST THE e
|
||
|
|
NEVER ENDING FLAMES IN THE PITS OF HELL. WITH ALL THE OTHER HIPPIES.
|
||
|
|
t
|
||
|
|
Yeah? Cool! h
|
||
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - e
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
MR POPSICLE RETURNS - Part 10 s
|
||
|
|
h
|
||
|
|
That's right, it was the part of the story that the readers (7 asylum o
|
||
|
|
inmates, 3 bored computer scientists, a kid waiting for some mould to p
|
||
|
|
grow, and an old sea captain with one leg living in a lighthouse who p
|
||
|
|
had nothing better to do) had been awaiting for no less than eleven e
|
||
|
|
weeks! The actual appearance of Mr Popsicle in a Popsicle adventure. (I r
|
||
|
|
would have labelled it "a Popsicle story", but it didn't sound dynamic, s
|
||
|
|
action-packed, and thrilling enough).
|
||
|
|
Yes, Inspector Sideburn had given up on his meagre resources and a
|
||
|
|
equally meagre brainpower finding the culprits to the big armoured car r
|
||
|
|
robbery, and had called in the Australian Royal Security Establishment. e
|
||
|
|
The ARSE was even now under threat from a Royal Commission, enquiring
|
||
|
|
as to whether it should have to change its name. Not in the interests m
|
||
|
|
of decency and seriousness mind you; just as a little bureaucratic o
|
||
|
|
exercise. All Australian government organisations are required by law r
|
||
|
|
to change their names at least once every ten years, to keep the e
|
||
|
|
alarmingly large Department of Namechangers operational. It is they at
|
||
|
|
the DoN that are responsible for designing and printing all the new d
|
||
|
|
stationery, logos (logoes?), moving offices, and all that other a
|
||
|
|
time-and-money wasting stuff that government departments do which n
|
||
|
|
completely confuses anyone who wants to ring up to find out which form g
|
||
|
|
they have to fill in for a heart transplant. e
|
||
|
|
Anyway, Mr Popsicle and Inspector Unnecessary-Violence of the r
|
||
|
|
(currently) ARSE arrived at Dung Hill Police Station in a fairly o
|
||
|
|
low-key way. u
|
||
|
|
Inspector Sideburn (who shall be known forthwith as Sideburn) s
|
||
|
|
greeted them in the lobby of the station, and was surprised to see that
|
||
|
|
Inspector Unnecessary-Violence (who shall be known forthwith as The t
|
||
|
|
Inspector, to save space in TCWF, and to prevent confusion between the h
|
||
|
|
two Inspectors; jeez, couldn't one of them have been a sergeant, or a a
|
||
|
|
superintendent?) was fairly drenched in blood, and appeared to have n
|
||
|
|
someone's arm hanging out of his top pocket.
|
||
|
|
"What happened to you? Riot?", asked Sideburn, quite reasonably t
|
||
|
|
under the circumstances. h
|
||
|
|
"Nah.. post-Christmas sales", replied the Inspector, trying e
|
||
|
|
gallantly but unsuccessfully to push the arm down into the pocket.
|
||
|
|
"What, crowd control?" N
|
||
|
|
"Nah.. I wanted to get one of those cheap tellies. Some bitch of an e
|
||
|
|
old lady got ahead of me on the escalator. Lucky I had my chainsaw with w
|
||
|
|
me."
|
||
|
|
They made their way to one of the many briefing rooms. Where they Y
|
||
|
|
were briefed. The details of the briefing aren't brief enough to be e
|
||
|
|
brought to you here, within the all too brief confines of this episode, a
|
||
|
|
so a brief briefing of the briefing will occur in the *next* episode. r
|
||
|
|
And make sure you're wearing your briefs. '
|
||
|
|
s
|
||
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
||
|
|
This has been a not-brief-enough episode of that E
|
||
|
|
briefly funny but now just plain dull written v
|
||
|
|
concept statement, the "Toxic Custard Workshop e
|
||
|
|
Files". Briefly, back-issues are available on
|
||
|
|
request. Brief details can be obtained for a r
|
||
|
|
brief time only from tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu e
|
||
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ srellev
|
||
|
|
Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen.
|
||
|
|
--
|
||
|
|
Daniel Bowen, Monash University, Melbourne, Australia---------------| ECONOMY
|
||
|
|
daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au--------TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | SIGNATURE
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Nominations are now being taken for the Inaugural TOXIC CUSTARD INTERNATIONAL
|
||
|
|
BASTARD OF THE YEAR AWARD (1992). The award will be presented in Toxic Custard
|
||
|
|
in a few weeks, to the individual person who is voted by readers to have been
|
||
|
|
the worst insufferable git during 1992. This award has been posthumously made
|
||
|
|
to Adolf Hitler for the years 1938 to 1945 inclusive. To nominate an
|
||
|
|
individual for the 1992 award, just reply to this mail, or send your
|
||
|
|
nomination to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu by Friday 15th of January.
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
||
|
|
"Elvis don't read Toxic Custard"
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
___ __
|
||
|
|
TOXIC | / \ / \ 11th January 1992
|
||
|
|
CUSTARD | __/ | | Written by Daniel Bowen
|
||
|
|
WORKSHOP | \ | |
|
||
|
|
.................FILES...|..\___/...\__/.......................................
|
||
|
|
|
||
|
|
Let us make one thing clear. Elvis *is* dead. I should know - I
|
||
|
|
killed him. It was back in those heady days of the late seventies... You
|
||
|
|
know how it is, you're in the backyard of the block of flats, 'cos you're
|
||
|
|
only seven years old, playing cricket with a bunch of people you don't Y
|
||
|
|
like, but hey, they're the neighbourhood kids, so you have to play with i
|
||
|
|
them to keep up that illusion of peaceful coexistence.. Inevitably some k
|
||
|
|
smart-arse with the cricket bat, who probably *owns* the cricket bat (so e
|
||
|
|
in other words, he makes the rules), manages to hit the small soggy grey s
|
||
|
|
tennis ball (it was dry and yellowish one summer three years ago) flying ,
|
||
|
|
over the fence.
|
||
|
|
So, after much arguing, you're bullied into going to get the ball by I
|
||
|
|
the bully, who has swiped the bat and is swiping most of the other kids
|
||
|
|
with it... and you don't want to end up in intensive care... which is t
|
||
|
|
where you think you'll end up if you don't get the ball back pronto... so h
|
||
|
|
you climb the old rickety wooden fence, picking up about five splinters i
|
||
|
|
in the process, into the overgrown garden next door. n
|
||
|
|
You know it's overgrown, because at that age, the grass comes up to k
|
||
|
|
your neck. And you've seen those stupid wildlife shows talking about
|
||
|
|
snakes living in long grass, so you're scared shitless of being strangled t
|
||
|
|
by a python, or bitten by a tiger snake, and you're wishing you hadn't h
|
||
|
|
worn shorts today, even though it's forty degrees in the shade. e
|
||
|
|
You see movement ten feet to your left, somewhere in the grass, and
|
||
|
|
you spot the tennis ball, no doubt displaced for a moment by a passing r
|
||
|
|
snake. So, grabbing a nearby hanging branch from one of those lethal i
|
||
|
|
looking plum trees that looks like it would stick two dozen thorns in you g
|
||
|
|
if you even considered climbing it, you edge your way to where you h
|
||
|
|
thought you last saw the ball. And all the time, behind you, six pairs of t
|
||
|
|
eyes edge their way over the fence, looking for any movement from the -
|
||
|
|
house that the garden is attached to. h
|
||
|
|
The ball is there. You reach for it carefully, wary of any poisonous a
|
||
|
|
snakes or spiders, or wild animals like leopards or cheetahs which may at n
|
||
|
|
any moment leap out at you and tear you to pieces. Such are the fears of d
|
||
|
|
little kids. You throw the ball back over the fence, and start to run to
|
||
|
|
safety, when the worst possible thing happens. The back door of the house m
|
||
|
|
runs, and the grumpy fat man who lives there comes out. And he says: a
|
||
|
|
"Son. Whatcha doin'?" r
|
||
|
|
"Just getting our ball back, Mr Presley." g
|
||
|
|
"Son. Now that ball was flyin' over my grass... Now... I want that i
|
||
|
|
ball." n
|
||
|
|
And he starts to waddle forward, and you're terrified, and all your
|
||
|
|
friends are yelling "Come here, come on!"... and you run back to the i
|
||
|
|
fence, throwing your stick away, and start to scramble over. s
|
||
|
|
What do I hear behind me as I climb the fence? Oh God, the stick has
|
||
|
|
flown into Mr Presley's head and implanted itself in his brain! And now a t
|
||
|
|
big snake has leapt out of the tree and is strangling him! And blood is r
|
||
|
|
spurting out everywhere, and he's screaming garbled words, "Are you y
|
||
|
|
lonesome, but lay off of my blue seude party at the county jail..." and i
|
||
|
|
so on. n
|
||
|
|
So we all ran for our lives. Back over the fence, Mr Presley came to g
|
||
|
|
a rather unpleasant end. And we always played cricket in the *front*
|
||
|
|
garden of the block after that. And we never went after wall-leaping t
|
||
|
|
tennis balls ever again. Well, it could happen to anyone, couldn't it. o
|
||
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
|
||
|
|
i
|
||
|
|
MR POPSICLE RETURNS - Part 11: The Briefing n
|
||
|
|
v
|
||
|
|
Inspector Sideburn, who was getting sick of this case, was handing it a
|
||
|
|
over to newly arrived Mr Popsicle and Inspector Unnecessary-Violence of d
|
||
|
|
the Australian Royal Security Establishment. The case, which was e
|
||
|
|
beautifully leather covered with lovely brass locks, had been annoying
|
||
|
|
Sideburn since the very early episodes. He just never seemed to get t
|
||
|
|
anywhere with the case. After a while he had realised that this was just h
|
||
|
|
how the author had written this story, but it still annoyed him somewhat. i
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It annoyed Inspector Unnecessary-Violence somewhat too. He'd been s
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doing something very enjoyable before being interrupted for this case. He
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couldn't remember what he had been doing, but he was quite sure it had s
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been fun. p
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Popsicle was less annoyed. Although he'd been watching Drop The Dead a
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Donkey when called up for this, he usually looked forward to new and c
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challenging investigations with relish, mustard, and a couple of pickles. e
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So, in the briefing room of Dung Hill Police Station, which was one .
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of the best rooms in the building for a briefing, the briefing began.
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Sideburn, with the aid of complicated diagrams of the crime scene, I
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lots of glossy 8x10" photos with a label on the back of each one, and t
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numerous bags full of evidence, explained the whole story for the benefit '
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of the ARSE team, and for any readers who might have forgotten the s
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original plot.
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"While the traffic lights were fiddled with to stop the armoured d
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truck, a huge gun was waved in the faces of the driving guards, who e
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opened the door of the van." f
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"An inside job then?" suggested Inspector Unnecessary-Violence. i
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"Why do you say that?" n
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"Oh, I don't know. It just seemed like an intelligent thing to say." i
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"Erm. Right", continued Sideburn. "We think they escaped on bicycles, t
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but we lost them a couple of kilometres away, where the trail of dropped e
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money stopped." l
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"Leads?" asked Inspector Unnecessary-Violence. y
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"Erm..." said Sideburn, looking half at him, half at Popsicle.
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"Don't worry about him", said Popsicle, "he's been on a debriefing m
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course: 'How to get 90% of the information at a briefing using just 7 key o
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phrases'." v
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"Forensic?" asked Inspector U-V. e
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"Leads? Well, I did get a tip that Jake McGiggin might be involved. d
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But if he was, he wouldn't tell me. Which I thought was quite reasonable,
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in the circumstances", replied Sideburn, rubbing a bruise on his neck. s
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"Any previous?" i
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"Well Sideburn", interrupted Popsicle. "We'll see what we can do on n
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this one. I think we may be able to show you a thing or two about solving c
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crime, too. Anything else we need to know, Inspector?" e
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"Witnesses? Reward posted? Informants?"
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l
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AND SO, WITH INSPECTOR UNNECESSARY-VIOLENCE STILL ASKING SHORT, QUICK a
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QUESTIONS, AND NOT WAITING FOR ANY REPLY, WE LEAVE POPSICLE UNTIL NEXT s
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WEEK, WHEN THE *REAL* MYSTERY BEGINS. HAVE A NICE WEEK. t
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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w
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TOXIC CUSTARD *BASTARD OF THE YEAR* (BOTY) 1992 e
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Keep those nominations flowing in! You have until this Friday, the 15th e
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of January to put in nominations. The voting will begin next week. k
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Nominations please to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu (or reply to this mail). .
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.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ .
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Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen.
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--
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Daniel Bowen, Monash University |
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Melbourne, Australia------------| Just when you thought it was safe
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daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| to buy an atlas... CZECHOSLOVAKIA!!
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TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu |
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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the Toxic Custard Workshop Files by Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia
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Copyright (c) 1992, 1993. May be freely reproduced without profit
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provided this notice remains intact.
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For subscription information, contact tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
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