161 lines
7.0 KiB
Plaintext
161 lines
7.0 KiB
Plaintext
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==========================================================================
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== ==
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== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==
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== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==
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== esses are: ==
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== ==
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== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==
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== ==
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== or ==
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== ==
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== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==
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==========================================================================
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Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
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Episode 1 - First Meeting
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One day, not long after tomorrow, Arnold Lint was busy scrolling through
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the seemingly infinite reaches of the Net. All of a sudden the news
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stopped with an abrupt thud, followed by the angry message "YOUR NODE HAS
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BEEN REDUCED TO A LITTLE BLACK, GREASY SPLOTCH IN MY MEMORY SPACE!!". No
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sooner had he assimilated this horrendous event when a great suction like
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noise began to emanate from his terminal. "This is it", he said to
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himself, "I'm going to die". The screen on his terminal imploded and he
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suddenly found himself sucked into the terminal . . . . . . . . . . . .
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(Arnold Lint regains consciousness, only to find himself in the company of
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an odd trio. One of the trio is an apparently normal human male (named Rod
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Perfect) and the second is a voluptuous young woman (named Gillian). The
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third is also a normal male (named Xaphod Gronklebox), except for a third,
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mechanical, arm and a 12" CRT on his shoulder that keeps scrolling "Pieces
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of Eight, Pieces of Eight".)
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Rod: Evening all! I'm Rod Perfect, awfully rude of you imploding on
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us this way, you silly twit.
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Arnold Lint:Sorry. Am I dead?
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Xaphod: Obviously not, you semi-evolved simian! Are all you
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net-landers so stupid. If you were dead would I be talking to
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you? I'm Xaphod Gronklebox, the famous inter-net-al criminal
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and dog molester - you must have heard of me.
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Arnold Lint:Actually, no, I haven't.
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Xaphod: Oh well, your loss. I just hijacked this node! It's called the
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Infinity, isn't it wild. Just imagine the places we can go in
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this baby.
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(Rod notices that Arnold's eyes are transfixed on the young woman)
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Rod: Her name's Gillian, at least that's what she wants to be
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called. Actually, her real name is Gertrude Floogie, but she
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didn't like it, so she changed it.
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(Arnold Lint detects a mechanical sound to his right. A robot soon walks
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into view)
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Robot: My name is Martin. I am sure you will have an absolutely awful
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time on this node, I always have. I do not know why they
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insist on trying to do things to change the Net, they can only
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make it worse. No matter what happens, some one always says
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something stupid and ruins everything. Then someone else feels
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obliged to a rebuttal, and on and on it goes. How awful.
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Still, what do you expect from an imperfect Net.
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Rod: Martin is a bit, well, depressing.
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Xaphod: He's a real downer, man!
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Martin: That's right, ridicule me. See what I care. I'm only an
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android. Just another example of cruelty in this awful Net.
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(The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines cruelty as having to see
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constant repetitions of the same salutary comment in more than 20
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messages. History shows that a war was fought over the repetition of the
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statement "If you don't like my name - push off, signed xxxx" appearing in
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200 messages from the node of Moronicus. Since that time, any time a
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salutary message is used more than 20 times, subsequent violators have
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their pelvis screwed to a cake stand while they are forced to watch
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repeats of "The Gong Show".)
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Arnold Lint:Well, what do we do now?
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Xaphod: We're on our way to Netrothea. (The 12" CRT on his shoulder
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now starts repeating "Polly want a sedative, Polly want a
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sedative") There's supposed to be all sorts of wild and
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amazingly great things in that place!
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Rod: Martin, set course for Netrothea!
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Martin: All right, but you're not going to like it.
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Gillian: What will we find on Netrothea?
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Xaphod: Well, there's supposed to be a huge stock pile of data there
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that we can sell to the Net for millions.
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Arnold Lint:A stock pile of what?
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Xaphod: Data! Data! You idiot. Knowledge is power in the Net. All that
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data has been accumulating over the centuries. Just imagine
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the amazingly amazing philosophical Net-discussions that it
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stored. I mean, the Net is the focal point of all wisdom.
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Just think of all that smart stuff! Wow!
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( The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" insists that the focal point of all
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knowledge in not the Net itself. Rather, it is the fourth stall in the
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mens room in Grand Central Station. No one has ever been dumb enough to
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waste time disproving this wild claim, so the publishers avoided some
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nasty laws suits.)
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Xaphod: We'll have millions! We'll by everything! No, we'll have
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billions, trillions, . . . .
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(Xaphod begins to shake violently and froth at the mouth, then he falls
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over backward. A few seconds later he comes to.)
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Xaphod: Well, lets go!
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Rod: You all right?
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Xaphod: Yah, sure. Just the excitement of new conquests.
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Arnold Lint:Looked more like Flamers-syndrome to me.
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Xaphod: You should talk, you key-pounding half-wit.
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Gillian: If we're going to go, lets go already.
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Martin: Do we really have to?
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Rod: YES!
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(Just as the node starts on it's way, a host of flame-shaped vessels
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became visible on the scanners)
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Rod: Funny you should mention Flamers-syndrome.
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Xaphod: Oh, hell!
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Gillian: What are they?
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Xaphod: Damn, those are ships belonging the Flamers. They go after
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anything, no matter how pointless or unimportant it is. If
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they catch us, we could suffer permanent brain damage, or
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worse yet - join the Moral Majority
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Arnold Lint:So this it it, we're all going to die!
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Martin: I told you that you would like it.
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Others: Oh Shut Up!
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******************** End Of Part 1 ********************
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Will Arnold and his new travelling companions escape the Flamers? Or will
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they end up playing rock albums backwards at 66.6 RPM? For the answers to
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these, and countless other pointless questions . . . Tune in next time . .
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. same Net-time . . . same Net-channel
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danielle
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