114 lines
6.2 KiB
Plaintext
114 lines
6.2 KiB
Plaintext
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #784
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`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 "The Biggest, Largest, Most
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888 888 888 888 888 Exciting Heist of All Time,
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888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 Part 8: The TRUE Nature of the Heist"
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888 888 888 888 888 " by Nybar
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888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 8/12/99
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o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
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Nybar's apartment minus Nybar, with Jubjub and Dawn the waitress in
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the kitchen and Guy and Keith in the monitoring room. Jubjub was
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pontificating on some subject or other.
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"Well... I suppose we're going to have to tell you eventually anyway,
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so I might as well tell you the whole story. This is going to sound pretty
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damn weird, so I'll just spit it out:--" after a barely perceptible glance
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to make sure Keith and Guy were still in the soundproofed monitoring room,
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he continued.
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"okay, one more clarification. This isn't going to sound weird.
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It's going to sound REALLY weird. Here goes: One night 100 years ago, a
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group of ascetic monks practicing a strange religion living in a temple on
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top of a mountain wished upon evil spirits to grant them a boon. They
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wanted to be able to write their philosophy and spirituality into a Bible
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that anyone, even the dumbest of the dumb, could understand, and spread
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their religion around the world. One day, weeks later, they got what they
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wished for. The head monk woke in his bed of thorns to see a scepter next
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to him. When he picked it up, he felt charged with a strange power. He
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knew that this is what he had wished for.
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"Immediately after giving himself 50 lashes with a bull-whip, he set
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to work writing their Bible. He was horrified with the outcome; it was all
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popular drivel. It read like a serial novel! The Head-Monk now knew what
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anyone who has heard a story like this before knows; don't make a deal with
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demons/evil spirits/the devil unless you want to get fucked over.
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"The Head Monk sent his young son, Abdul, to the market and had him
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sell the scepter. We lose track of it a little here, but it eventually
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found it's way into the hands of a J.D. Salinger. Now you know why The
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Catcher in the Rye was so popular; it was written by a man with The Scepter.
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J.D. Salinger used the scepter judiciously and not very greedily, unlike the
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next person it fell into the hands of, Stephen King. I don't know how he
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got it, but he's been using it for years to become what he is today.
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Finally, I believe the scepter got bored of him. Bam, hit by a van. Don't
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fuck with evil spirits.
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"After this accident, King's home was broken into. The Scepter was
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nowhere to be found. But Stephen King has been heard by hospital attendents
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babbling about an evil entity, and the Scepter being taken back to it's
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lair. This much practically everyone knows, for it's a legend among hack
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writers, which almost all hoe contributors are. 'Find the Scepter and
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you'll be rich' is what 'zine veterans tell their gullible compatriots.
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"Well, before you call me and Nybar gullible, consider this: an
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explorer recently climbed to the top of the mountain the ascetic monk temple
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was located. Well, the temple was still there, but no monks. Save for one,
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Abdul, the old Head-Monk's son. He was emaciated and nearly incoherently
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senile, but he, too, kept babbling about an evil spirit. He gave the
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explorer a note from his father. Here's a transcript of it."
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Jubjub removes a piece of paper from his right pocket and reads from
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it:
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"blah blah blah... this is an incoherent part... ah here we go, it
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says: The Scepter is completely alive, perhaps a manifestation of the
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popular mentality that buys the drivel it produces. An evil spirit for a
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modern age, if this is the truth! In any case, though, the scepter will not
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be held thrall to the likes of Stephen King for much longer. It will most
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likely return to it's ancestral home after taking care of him...,"
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Jubjub pauses and furrows his brow, "more incoherency, something
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about blue lobsters, ok, it starts again: we were naive to think that we
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could create a force as essential as the scepter, really it has always
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existed, a conscious entity with no point but to opiate the masses, so to
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speak. Heh heh..."
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Jubjub paused again "this is another incoherent part actually, it's a
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long rant on organized religion, but I'll spare you. Hmm, that's the end of
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the useful part. The other thing that the explorer was given was this map."
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Jubjub brandished a map. "This is the one advantage we have over the guys
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in the Pentagon--whom Nybar thinks are trying to knock us off--we know
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exactly where what we're looking for is. In theory at least, but we can't
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seem to figure out what region this map is for! Nybar thinks they have the
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opposite problem; they know what general area the map is for but don't have
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the map! Uh..."
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Jubjub pants.
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"That's was a mouthfull, yaknow?"
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As Jubjub catches his breath, Dawn simply sits, turning the facts
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over in her mind. The panting man and the tied up, thinking waitress sit
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like this for what seems like an eternity. Dawn finally breaks the silence:
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"So, if you can get the sceptre, what do you plan to do with it?
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What makes you think you can escape the evil spirits any more than JD
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Salinger or Stephen King could?" she asks in earnest, but Jubjub laughs
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heartily.
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"I don't really know. I'm really just hired help.. take it up with
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Nybar!" he replies through his laughter.
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Then she laughs too, mainly at the sheer stupidity and self
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infatuation of this Nybar character. Jubjub's laughter continued for a long
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time, as did the two's conversation.
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Menawhile, under the kitchen table, an electronic monitoring device
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picks it all up. But the part of interest to the monitors is already over.
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[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #784 - WRITTEN BY: NYBAR - 8/12/99 ]
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