113 lines
6.9 KiB
Plaintext
113 lines
6.9 KiB
Plaintext
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Editor: 0000Q\'d@@@@D/// 0000@@@@@P//////// @@@@@@@.
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Access Denied 000@@@@@@@@P'/// 000@@P//////////// .d@@@@@D X Marks The
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d00@@@@@@@P'//// d00@@@a///////// d@@@@@@@@@' Shit
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D a m n e d F u c k i n g S h i t
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- Presents -
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Issue #58
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Date: 5/30/96
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Title: The Plan
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Author: Dementia Praecox
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The Plan
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[Editor's Note: This also appeared one sunny afternoon on a local board. -AD]
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VT> Blah. Anyway, let me know what you think.
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Well, I think that lurking somewhere on the fifth mirror dimension of our
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own (known as Ruwrock 3), there is an entire race of intelligent beings (fine,
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they resemble chickens, but so what?) whose sole purpose in life is to somehow
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cross over the planar boundaries and try to posess the entire human race. And
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let's not even BEGIN to think that their methods are destined to be some
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outright, blatant forced takeover. Oh, no, they've been planning far too long
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to let THAT kind of thing happen. Absolutely not. They've been planning this
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bastard for generations. It'll start out simple, undoubtedly. First, some
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farm out in the middle of nowhere, where they'll posess the soul of a young
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girl playing outside in the fields, going about her own business of dancing
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among the daisies. They'll corrupt her like a terminal illness, turning her
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innocent, childish thoughts to those of the darker sides of animal
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maturbation. Then, once they've turned her into some depraved, retched sex
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animal, they'll send her back to the farm, and take over the whole entire
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family. But, don't think that these poor folks are of any major significance.
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Their just the test group. They'll stay with just this group for a bit,
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learning not only how to manipulate and use humans to perfection
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, but also how
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to fool everyone else, to deceive the rest of the human race. Now it's time
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to put plan B in motion, the big one. This is stage two, where they take over
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a corporation. Since they've been planning so long, they'll know exactly
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which one is ripe for the picking for their demented, twisted plans for
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bi-dimensional domination. In case you haven't guessed there is no doubt in
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my mind of the one they will pick, the Quaker company. Who would suspect that
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behind the eyes of the Quaker guy who stares out at them during breakfast of
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oatmeal or Captain Crunch(c) of Life(c) (all flavors) lies an accursed, foul
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race of beings planning to move in and take over in one giant act of
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dimensional warfare? Certainly not the comfortable, sleepy citizens of the
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world who have lived in too much comfort for far too long. What a ghastly
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plot! For through the Quaker corporation, they'll have a direct link to all
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of corporate America, and from there, the American government (seeing as how
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everyone in the greater Washington D.C. metro area starts the day with a
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healthy breakfast, just as Wilford Brimley instructs them to). After that,
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the options are limitless! They'll spread across the Earth like some twisted
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parody of Captain Trips. Virtually overnight, they'll have annihilated the
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free thought of billions of people. Then they'll just move on in. Well,
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that's not right! We've got to take action now, dammit. I propose that we
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boycott, no, place an absolute embargo on anything and everything that has
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even the most remote connection to the Quaker corporation. We'll beat those
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bastards at their own game before they've even had a chance to start! We'll
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really catch them with their pants around their ankles this time! No mindless
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possession for me, thank you very much! And while we're at it,
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I also propose
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the immediate destruction of all agricutural life and anything involved with
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farming. Even now, those chicken-like soulsuckers could be test-marketing
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their own evil minds on the innocent country bumpkins at the corners of the
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Earth. Besides, isn't it time we all modernized ourselves anyways?! I mean,
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come on, LIVE on a FARM?! Isn't the city good enough for you fucking
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backwoods, cousin-screwing, i.q. of 6.5 (if you're lucky) bastards?!?@! FUCK
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YOU! If you choose to lead some anti-modernization movement, we'll take you
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on, bitch! We'll fuckin take your asses through the wash too, so don't even
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step, 'g, or I'm gonna grab my nine and pop some caps in yo' white ass.
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That's what I thought, bitch. Sheeeeeeit. Peace out.
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Well, that's pretty much sums up my position. later.
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.dp.
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Find DFS On These Fine Systems (When they're up...)
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==========================================================================
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| Paradise Lost +1.414.476.3181 DFS World HQ |
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| Temporary Insanity +1.414.666.W00T DFS Affiliate HQ |
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| Arcane Asylum +1.414.PSY.CHOS DFS Thingy HQ |
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| |
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| FTP - etext.archive.umich.edu - /pub/Zines/DFS |
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| HTTP - http://www.execpc.com/~adenied
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| See, it's like this. I don't call out, so I don't know if any of my |
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| distros are still up. So they're all GONE! If you want to be a site |
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| mail Access Denied at adenied@execpc.com or call Paradise Lost. |
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| ASCII Art by Incarnate |
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| To submit, call Paradise Lost and log on as DFS. The password is: |
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| JINGLE JINGLE |
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==========================================================================
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