1428 lines
65 KiB
Plaintext
1428 lines
65 KiB
Plaintext
***** ***** ***** *****
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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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SBI-Submarine Pens Proudly Presents:
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####========================================================####
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THE PURPLE THUNDERBOLT OF SPODE VOL 4, 59
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####========================================================####
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"Three years and REPLIES TO: HailOtis@socpsy.sci.fau.edu
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still going strong"
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* PPPPPP U U RRRRRR PPPPPP SSSSSS
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*** P P U U R R P P S
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***** P P U U R R P P S
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******* PPPPPP U U RRRRRR PPPPPP SSSSS
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********* P U U R R P S
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*********** P U U R RR P S
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***** P UUUUU R R P SSSSSS
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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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*****
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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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WRITE TO: IGHF/955 Massachusetts Ave., Suite 209/Cambridge, Ma 02139
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Pope Jephe: jstevens@world.std.com
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Doc Simpson: scott@plearn.bitnet
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Editor: mal@sit.sop.fau.edu
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Subscriptions: HailOtis@socpsy.sci.fau.edu
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Back issues ftp from quartz.rutgers.edu in /pub/journals/purps
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HOW TO SUBSCRIBE: send a mail message to the HailOtis address saying
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subscribe me and you will be subscribed. It's easy and painless and it's
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next to impossible to goof up.
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####===================================================================####
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INTRO
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####===================================================================####
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I suppose I should slap an intro onto this and welcome all our new
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subscribers. I'm sort of happy with this issue seeing as it contains
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perhaps 50% original material rather than mostly stuff that got dredged up
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from somewhere or another.
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This issue include a few treats including the introduction of the Daughters
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of Creiza and the High Priestess of Brow.
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I don't know what to say here. I'm a bit tapped out seeing as I just did
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the entire intro to another installment of the Messenger of the Gods (I
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suppose you could consider that a treat if you were so inclined.)
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Anyway, thanks for all the submissions. Please keep them up. Submissions
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are what Purps is about. We need participation to make Purps work. The more
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contributors we have the more life Purps has and the more pleased Otis is.
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Also with participants we tend to generate a lot more material and divine
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wisdom. It's easy to participate. Write a letter and complain about how
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dreadful the Messenger of the Gods is for example. Or how Purps needs a new
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editor who will get things done on time. Write about flushing fruit salad
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down the toilet. Guess the Pope's weight! Anything! This is what Purps
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needs!
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####===================================================================####
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Coping with Aliens
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####===================================================================####
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From: steersdd@msuvx1.memphis.edu
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Subject: Alien Support Group
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Date: 19 Mar 94 09:49:36 -0500
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Los Angeles hypnotherapist Yvonne Smith said in May 1993 that more
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than 30 have joined her support group of those who say they have been
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abducted by aliens. The group meets at Smith's home once a month to
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discuss their problems in coping, for example, with memories of aliens'
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sexual assaults, with aliens' planting of tracking devices inside
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abductees' bodies, and with abductees' methods of distinguishing between
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alien abductions and abductions engineered by the CIA. Said Smith,
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"Because [alien abduction] is controversial, there's still a certain
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stigma attached to it."
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####===================================================================####
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BROW'S FEMINIST CALL TO ARMS
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####===================================================================####
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Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 14:21:14 -0400 (EDT)
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From: JAP@LASPAU.mhs.harvard.edu
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Subject: for Purps
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BROW'S FEMINIST CALL TO ARMS
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I was watching the Oscars last night, and a Revlon ad came on, which
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claimed that they made revolutionary makeup. How did they back up their
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claims? Well, here's how:
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"what is revolutionary? Spending a day without makeup...just
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kidding, Revlon!"
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"knowing the sexiest thing you can wear is your wedding ring"
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(said by Cathy Lee Gifford - if they could see her now)
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"loving like a woman and laughing like a little girl".
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At that very moment, I was seized with the urge to smash my television
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set, which we all know is a favored activity of Brow, especially on
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Smashmas. Therefore, I correctly interpreted my urge as being divinely
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channeled to me by Brow.
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Brow hates Revlon! Brow urges you not to boycott Revlon, but rather to
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purchase large quantities of Revlon products and SMASH THEM! If you like,
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you can feel free to send the pieces back to Revlon as a religious
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statement.
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Brow's feminist call to arms shall not be ignored!
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Hail Brow!
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Siubhan
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####===================================================================####
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Recycling Info
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####===================================================================####
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From: steersdd@msuvx1.memphis.edu
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Subject: Important Recycling Information
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Date: 19 Mar 94 10:04:03 -0500
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Juan Cordova and Jose Guzman were arrested in Lima, Peru, for
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fraud in 1989. They had allegedly gathered used condoms from a lover's
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lane beach, then washed and resold them as new.
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####===================================================================####
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Kludge
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####===================================================================####
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From: thf2@kimbark.uchicago.edu (Ted Frank)
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Subject: Kludge/Kluge
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Date: Mon, 14 Mar 1994 18:59:13 GMT
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While we're on these vowels,
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kludge (klu:d3). slang (orig. U.S.). Also kluge. [J. W. Granholm's
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jocular invention: see first quot.; cf. also BODGE v., FUDGE v.] `An
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ill-assorted collection of poorly-matching parts, forming a distressing
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whole' (Granholm); esp. in Computing, a machine, system, or program that
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has been improvised or `bodged' together; a hastily improvised and poorly
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thought-out solution to a fault or `bug'.
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The vowel shown here is the one in "food".
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I'm extremely irritated that they have canonicalized this pronunciation,
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and do not offer (kl/\d3) even as a disparaged alternative. Yes, I know
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that (klu:d3) is promoted as the One True Way by those who have some claim
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to be in the know, and I have even learned to say it that way, but it
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makes me feel like an Eliza Doolittle hiding the fact that deep inside I
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still hear it as (kl/\d3). Those who encountered the "kluge" spelling
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before "kludge" probably have an advantage here.
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I first encountered it as "kluge" in the following, almost certainly
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untrue, story, where the "u" is the vowel found in "food":
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Smith was drafted into the Navy in World War II. At some point in the
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process, he was asked what his specialty was, and responded "Kluge maker."
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Now, no one wanted to admit that they were such a bumpkin that they didn't
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know what a kluge maker was, so they invariably wrote the description into
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his papers and sent him along his way, and to the bureaucracy his
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classification was kluge maker, and was never assigned to any work.
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It so happens an admiral was visiting our hero's ship on inspection one
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day, and expressed curiosity why Smith wasn't doing any work. The ship's
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captain explained, "He's a kluge maker, sir." The admiral didn't know
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what a kluge maker was, and wasn't about to admit it, but he would have
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none of that. "So why isn't this man making kluges? Give him what he
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needs!" And Smith shrugged his shoulders, commandeered one of the
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workrooms, and set off on requisition orders for all sorts of variegated
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parts. Wires, nuts, bolts, scrap metal, all with no rhyme or reason, were
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sent to the workroom, from which frightful hammering and welding noises
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could be heard.
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The admiral came back onto the ship a few months later, and wanted to see
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the kluges in action. Smith was called onto the deck, and there he was,
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toting a strange contraption, vaguely ball-shaped, but with wires, nuts,
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bolts, scrap metal, all pasted together with no rhyme or reason and
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sticking out willy-nilly helter skelter all over the place. The military
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brass on hand was taken aback, but again, no one wanted to admit they
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didn't know what a kluge was. "So, let's see this thing work," the
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admiral commanded.
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Smith promptly stepped to the side of the ship and dropped the thingamabob
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overboard.
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"KLUGE!!!!!!!" it went as it hit the ocean below and sank.
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####===================================================================####
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Jessica Rabbit
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####===================================================================####
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[While Disney's frozen away his staff will play...]
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From: deca@nyfx63.NoSubdomain.NoDomain (Gerard Decatrel)
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Subject: Jessica Rabbit
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Date: Tue, 15 Mar 1994 19:05:33 GMT
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Paraphrased from todays news (via 92.3 FM KSJO):
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The Disney folks are trying to figure out who tampered with the newly
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release laser disk of "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" The released version,
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some which have been sold (though no exact number was given), contains
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several "tampered" frames, including several containing full frontal
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nudity of Jessica Rabbit and others containing graffiti that shows the
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home phone number of Disney's owner. While not visible when viewed at
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normal speed, they are clearly visible when freeze-framed, something laser
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disk does much better than tape.
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####===================================================================####
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Suspicious Bulge
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####===================================================================####
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From: steersdd@msuvx1.memphis.edu
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Subject: Hiding Guns
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Date: 19 Mar 94 09:46:50 -0500
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Drug-possession defendant Christopher Plovie, on trial in March
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1990 in Pontiac, Michigan, claimed that he had been searched without a
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warrant. The prosecutor said the officer didn't need a warrant because a
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"bulge" in Plovie's jacket could have been a gun. Nonsense, said Plovie,
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who happened to be wearing the same jacket that day. He handed it over so
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that the judge could see that its material did not make bulges. The judge
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discovered a packet of cocaine in a pocket. (The judge laughed so hard
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that he required a five-minute recess to compose himself.)
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####===================================================================####
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Irony du Jour
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####===================================================================####
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Date: Wed, 23 Mar 1994 10:13:21 -0700
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From: iverson@crl.nmsu.edu (Eric Iverson)
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Subject: Irony du Jour
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Date: Tue, 22 Mar 1994 17:50:05 -0500
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From: Steve Strassmann <straz@cambridge.apple.com>
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Subject: maybe he should have tried seals
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From: rob@inet.research.att.com
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Date: Tue, 22 Mar 94 15:25:41 EST
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Youth Elixir Promoter Dies At Age 50<
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LONDON (AP) - Peter Stephan, founder of a private clinic which
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prescribed lamb placenta as an elixir of youth, has died after a
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heart attack. He was 50.
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Stephan died Sunday at his home, said his friend David Block.
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A homeopathist, Stephan injected lamb placenta into patients on
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the theory that it would replace dying cells. He sold beauty
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products and wrote books promoting lamb placenta.
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The Daily Telegraph newspaper said Stephan's Omnigen
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suppositories, marketed as a ``treatment to improve the quality of
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your life,'' were dismissed by a General Medical Council member as
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``a load of old rhubarb.''
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####===================================================================####
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Phantosmia
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####===================================================================####
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From: steersdd@msuvx1.memphis.edu
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Subject: Excuse to Not Study
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Date: 19 Mar 94 10:11:43 -0500
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A physician at John Hopkins medical school reported in April 1992
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that a 21-year-old college student suffers from a condition ("phantosmia")
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that causes her to emit a foul odor so overpowering that she cannot eat or
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engage in ordinary school activities because she cannot concentrate.
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####===================================================================####
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Those Wacky English are at it Again
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####===================================================================####
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[Remember dear readers how in a previous issue was had amazing sex
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students of the english. Well here's another one...]
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From: ewan@kirk.demon.co.uk (Ewan Kirk)
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Subject: Bestial Sex True Story
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Date: Wed, 16 Mar 1994 10:08:35 +0000
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If anybody had told me this, I would have been **convinced** it was
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an urban legend. However, from Reuters today (16Mar94 Page YJCU)
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Wedding Guests See Bestiality Video By Mistake
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London (Reuter)
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A British Man was found guilty on Tuesday of having sex with a
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dog after a video he made of the act was inadvertently shown
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to speechless wedding guests expecting to see a reply of a
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marriage ceremony.
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The 59-year-old lent his video recorder to a friend to film the
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wedding, but forgot to erase from the tape scenes of himself
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in sex acts with a neighbour's bull terrier named Ronnie.
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The man said the 10-minute film shown to the jury had been
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an attempt at trick photography and featured only simulated
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sex acts. He will be sentenced after psychiatric and other
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reports have been made available.
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(ENDS)
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####===================================================================####
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Exactly what was this fellow being initiated into?
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####===================================================================####
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From: steersdd@msuvx1.memphis.edu
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Subject: Why Cement????
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Date: 19 Mar 94 10:06:25 -0500
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A report in a 1989 issue of *The American Journal of Forensic
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Medicine and Pathology* describes a case of surgery performed on a
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20-year-old man who walked into an emergency room after his lover had
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administered an enema containing concrete mix. The surgeons marveled
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after removing the concrete cast of the inside of the rectum - perfect,
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they wrote, except for chipping at one end, which, when further probed,
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revealed a white plastic ping-pong ball. The surgeons speculated that the
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ping-pong ball was used to retain the enema but did not speculate on why
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the men thought it would be a good idea to use cement.
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####===================================================================####
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The Thrills of Big Business
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####===================================================================####
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From: rudolph@cis.umassd.edu (Lee Rudolph)
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Subject: Re: Football players getting off
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Date: Sat, 19 Mar 1994 11:30:52 GMT
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juanm@clark.net (Juan Molinari) writes:
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> I've heard it mentioned that football players (in high school,
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>specifically) sometimes get erections and even have orgasms while engaged
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>in a game. If this is true, then my theory is that the physical exertion
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>combined with the obvious fondling and frotaging that goes on in football
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>is the cause of this. Then again, I've never played football.
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Dr. Joyce Brothers asserted in a column of hers that I read about 15 years
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ago that hugely successful business men sometimes have orgasms when they
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close great big business deals.
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####===================================================================####
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False Advertising
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####===================================================================####
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From: steersdd@msuvx1.memphis.edu
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Subject: False Advertising
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Date: 22 Mar 94 18:33:21 -0500
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The Memphis (Tenn.) Zoo, in the fall of 1993 kicked off "Dinosaurs
|
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Live!" an exhibit of computerized, mechanical replicas of the creatures
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that became extinct 65 million years ago. As of early September,
|
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according to zoo official Ann Ball, six people had asked for refunds of
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the $2.50 admission price upon learning that the exhibit did not feature
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real dinosaurs.
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####===================================================================####
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The Daughters of Creiza most happily announce
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####===================================================================####
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From: LindaHedges <LindaH@ssecmail.ssec.wisc.edu>
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Date: Fri, 25 Mar 94 15:01:00 CST
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To The One and Only Pope Jephe I, Designated Head of the OTISIAN Faith,
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Pointifex Maximus, Titled Glorificus, and Chief Legal Council for OTIS
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(The Ancient Sumerian god/dess of Life), et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
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Hail OTIS! Hail Creiza!
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Sororal greeting from the Daughters of Creiza.
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The Daughters of Creiza most happily announce that preparations for our
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annual celebration of the anniversary of the recognition of the Patent
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Office of the United States of America of the invention of the "pencil
|
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with attached eraser" are proceeding on schedule. On March 30th, 1858,
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Hymen L. Lipman's name when down in history as the inventor of this
|
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marvelous device. Proofreaders and editors around the world still use his
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writing/erasing instrument. (Well, they don't all actually use his own
|
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personal pencil, but one very similar to it in design and that's close
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enough for us.) We honor him each year on March 30th by writing his name
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and erasing it as many times as we have pencils with attached erasers to
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so do.
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Any follower of OTIS is welcomed to join with us in this celebration. The
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ritual writing and erasing may be done in groups or in the privacy of your
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own ceremonial space. Follow when your pencil leads.
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I sign myself,
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Creiza-Waterloo
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Standard disclaimer: The Daughters of Creiza are incapable of committing
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any typos or grammatical errors. We may choose, however, to randomly
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create educational opportunities for others to practice their proofreading
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skills.
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|
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Document C-W/04
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####===================================================================####
|
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Free Elvis Detector
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
From: mookie@physics.ubc.ca (Jeffrey Matthews)
|
|
Subject: Free Evlis Detector
|
|
Date: 3 Mar 1994 00:17:25 GMT
|
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Hey kids! Get a free elvis detector for Windows. It sits in the background
|
|
and detects the presence of Elvis or his spirit in the vicinity. It's
|
|
available at:
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|
|
|
ftp.cica.indiana.edu in the pub/pc/win3/misc directory under the filename
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elvisd10.zip.
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So far it's gone off a few times on my computer, but it trns out it was
|
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because Harum Scarum was on the tube that night....
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|
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####===================================================================####
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Will John Bobbitt never learn?
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####===================================================================####
|
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Sender: "T.S. Davies" <tsdavies@mailbox.syr.edu>
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Subject: [rec.humor.funny] Will John Bobbitt never learn?
|
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|
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Date: Wed, 2 Mar 94 12:20:03 EST
|
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Subject: Will John Bobbitt never learn?
|
|
From: rsholmes@mailbox.syr.edu (Rich Holmes)
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True item, quoted from a story in today's Syracuse Post-Standard about a
|
|
visit from John Wayne Bobbitt:
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"He held up a picture of his new girlfriend, Kristina, for the
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television cameras. They met two weeks ago in an airport, he said.
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"'She's my ideal dream girl, the kind I explained to my wife I'd like
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to meet, and I finally met her,' he said.
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"She's a figure skater, he said."
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####===================================================================####
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Weirdness up
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####===================================================================####
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Date: Sat, 12 Mar 1994 14:11:37 -0700
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From: iverson@crl.nmsu.edu (Eric Iverson)
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Subject: Weirdness up 7 points in heavy trading
|
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Subject: Weirdness up 7 points in heavy trading
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|
Date: Tue, 08 Mar 94 12:08:47 -0500
|
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From: Michael Travers <mt@media.mit.edu>
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From: dm@hri.com
|
|
In addition to centerpiecing a story on how Toad Sucking is being
|
|
replaced by Toad Smoking, today's _Wall St. Journal_ prints the
|
|
following article:
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|
Statistics confirm it: the world is getting weirder and
|
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weirder
|
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By Dana Milbank
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LONDON --- These are weird times. In fact, the times are a
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full 3.5% weirder than they were just a year ago.
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That, at least, is the conclusion of the Fortean Times, a
|
|
London-based magazine dedicated to the study of all things
|
|
bizarre. The February/March issue of the small journal
|
|
compares thousands of zany happenings in 1992 and 1993 and
|
|
declares, somewhat arbitrarily, that the overall strangeness
|
|
index had risen to 3520 from 3400. Among the curiousities of
|
|
1993:
|
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|
|
- A trash bin belonging to the London burough of Lewisham was
|
|
found beside the Sea of Galilee.
|
|
- Sixty lambs in Germany were attacked and killed by hundreds
|
|
of crows.
|
|
- Swedish doctors cured a deaf man by removing a 47-year-old
|
|
bus ticket from his ear.
|
|
|
|
The Fortean Times Index (not to be confused with the Financial
|
|
Times Index, which has been heading the other way) has 34
|
|
components. Leading the index upward was the Strange Behavior
|
|
component, which includes people who throw birds into cars
|
|
waiting at stoplights and the robber who taped two cucumbers
|
|
together and pretended he had a sawed-off shotgun.
|
|
|
|
The Hoaxes and Panics category got a boost from the Chinese
|
|
city where people were convinced that a giant deranged robot
|
|
from America was killing and sucking the blood of people who
|
|
wore red. ``People are more and more erratic,'' says Robert
|
|
JM Rickard, the editor. ``There are just such stupid extremes
|
|
of behavior.''
|
|
|
|
The _Journal_ goes on to quote equity an analyst who suggests people
|
|
*not* take their investment advice from the Fortean Times, and who
|
|
thinks the Index is arbitrary. Perhaps there should be a ``Unesco
|
|
definition of weirdness'', he suggests.
|
|
|
|
Sightings of the Virgin Mary and of highway ghosts are up this year.
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Face-to-face with the Love of Otis
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Date: Mon, 14 Mar 1994 15:18:46 -0400 (EDT)
|
|
From: JAP@LASPAU.mhs.harvard.edu
|
|
|
|
I first experienced the divine powers of Otis my first year in college,
|
|
only I didn't realize it yet. It took seven years and St. Fawn, the
|
|
Patron Saint of Frugality to lead me to Purps and open my eyes.
|
|
|
|
At the tender age of 16, my parents put me in a small package and sent me
|
|
off to Wellesley College to begin my education (and to get me out of the
|
|
house). I arrived a young, dewy-eyed virgin, but soon after met
|
|
face-to-face with the love of Otis. I and several other young, dewy-eyed
|
|
virgins climbed into the trusty old- fashioned Otis elevator (complete
|
|
with an inner gate) in my dorm one day and discovered the light switch.
|
|
Suddenly, we knew what Otis wanted us to do. We switched off the light,
|
|
and rode up and down in the elevator moaning and screaming for a good ten
|
|
minutes. We entered the elevator as innocent girls, but when we exited, we
|
|
were women.
|
|
|
|
We quickly initiated other young, dewy-eyed virgins to the tender love of
|
|
"good old Otis" (as we called him). We took these trips often, as we had
|
|
become quite fond of his erotic powers. He preferred us in groups, but
|
|
would go one-on-one with us if we needed him. He was always there for us,
|
|
but was good enough to share with anyone who was worthy of his love. We
|
|
guarded him jealously from the men who would try to turn us from his love.
|
|
I'm sure that they were just insecure that they couldn't compete. Alas, I
|
|
moved away the next year to a dorm with a new-fangled elevator that made
|
|
your stomach lurch upon acceleration and as it stopped, and I never
|
|
visited "good old Otis" again. When I eventually moved back to my first
|
|
year dorm, Otis had been replaced by a disappointingly new elevator, and
|
|
so I mourned. There was a lovely old Otis elevator in the science center,
|
|
but it was too well lit and public for me to feel comfortable expressing
|
|
my kindled lust.
|
|
|
|
Now I realize that I was blessed by the love of Otis when I needed him
|
|
most. If only I had realized then that I had been touched by the divine,
|
|
I might have visited more often. I will carry the memory of that special
|
|
year with me always.
|
|
|
|
-Siubhan
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Elvis Food
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
From: branney@aol.com (Branney)
|
|
Subject: Elvis Food
|
|
Date: 14 Mar 1994 00:39:02 -0500
|
|
|
|
I recently heard that the King was fond of eating something called Fool's
|
|
Gold Loaf. It consisted of a loaf of french bread which is then hollowed
|
|
out. The loaf is then filled with peanut butter and a pound of burned
|
|
bacon. It is then eaten and washed down with a six pack of lite beer.
|
|
|
|
I'm curious if any others have tales of the culinary creations that made
|
|
Elvis the man he was...
|
|
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Answers to your questions ...
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
From: LindaHedges <LindaH@ssecmail.ssec.wisc.edu>
|
|
Subject: Answers to your questions ...
|
|
Date: Thu, 17 Mar 94 13:02:00 CST
|
|
|
|
Hail OTIS! Hail Creiza!
|
|
|
|
Sororal Greeting, Oh Sincere 1/3 of Creiza, Benefactor of Evil, Leaper of
|
|
Frogs, and Lighter of Fires.
|
|
|
|
After an exhaustive search of the Holy Standards of Creiza I can report
|
|
that the answer to your first question (In what century did writers of the
|
|
English language begin constructing sentences where an adverb might be
|
|
placed between the word "to" and the infinitive which would normally
|
|
follow it directly?) is still among the missing parchments.
|
|
|
|
The answer to your second question is: You. You obviously care or you
|
|
would not have asked the question.
|
|
|
|
Rest assured that we will continue the search, not only for the answer,
|
|
but for the missing scrolls as well. In the future, please be sensitive
|
|
to the difficulties that arise in answering pop quizzes when the answers
|
|
depend on examining documents of which for centuries the Daughters of
|
|
Creiza have been so carefully to publicly deny possession. You, of all
|
|
beings, realize the importance of their secrecy until all the missing bits
|
|
are assembled to reveal the whole caboodle.
|
|
|
|
I attach a copy of a statement I am preparing to send to Pope Jeffe in
|
|
hopes that this will successfully continue the myth of the non-existence
|
|
of the Holy Standards of Creiza.
|
|
|
|
I sign myself,
|
|
Creiza-Waterloo
|
|
|
|
Standard disclaimer: The Daughters of Creiza are incapable of committing
|
|
any typos or grammatical errors. We may choose, however, to randomly
|
|
create educational opportunities for others to practice their proofreading
|
|
skills.
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
To Pope Jeffff, of the Infinite Spellings.
|
|
|
|
Hail OTIS! Hail Creiza!
|
|
|
|
In keeping with the doctrine of Creiza, the Daughters of Creiza gather to
|
|
set the record straight.
|
|
|
|
Contrary to popular belief and notwithstanding recent rumors spread by
|
|
Pope Jephe I, the Daughters of Creiza do not have, nor have they ever had
|
|
since the flooding of the library on Atlantis and the burning of various
|
|
libraries thereafter, the precious and most revered Holy Standards of
|
|
Creiza. As Head of the Daughters of Creiza charged with protecting and
|
|
following the principles detailed in those scrolls, I, Creiza-Waterloo,
|
|
proclaim that the search for these valuable documents, whether in scroll
|
|
or clay tablet form, will continue. As scrolls or shards are found and
|
|
entrusted once more to the Daughters of Creiza, their existence will also
|
|
be denied.
|
|
|
|
Standard disclaimer: The Daughters of Creiza are incapable of committing
|
|
any typos or grammatical errors. We may choose, however, to randomly
|
|
create educational opportunities for others to practice their proofreading
|
|
skills.
|
|
|
|
Document C-W/02
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
Subject: Welcome, cheif of 1/3 my daughters
|
|
From: reid.carlberg@mwbbs.com (Reid Carlberg)
|
|
Date: Mon, 7 Mar 94 17:33:00 -0500
|
|
-------------
|
|
Hello,
|
|
|
|
This is to officially welcome you to the pantheon and general list of
|
|
important dieties.
|
|
|
|
Since you will be in charge of editing and what not (without reference to
|
|
the dreadful misspelling in the subject line of this note), I have a
|
|
question for you: In what century did writers of the English language
|
|
begin constructing sentences where an adverb might be placed between the
|
|
word "to" and the infinitive which would normally follow it directly?
|
|
Furthermore, who cares?
|
|
|
|
Sincerely,
|
|
|
|
1/3 of Creiza,
|
|
Benefactor of Evil,
|
|
Leaper of Frogs,
|
|
Lighter of Fires
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Yak Greetings
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
From: LindaHedges <LindaH@ssecmail.ssec.wisc.edu>
|
|
Subject: Yak greetings
|
|
Date: Fri, 18 Mar 94 16:32:00 CST
|
|
|
|
Hail OTIS! Hail Creiza!
|
|
|
|
Sororal greeting to Pope Jeff and all assembled.
|
|
|
|
My sincerest apologies for not being with you for the full fledged
|
|
celebration of Yak Appreciation Day, the Great and Traditional OTISian
|
|
holiday celebrating the Most Sacred of the OTISian Beasts. As I can not
|
|
be there in body, please believe I am there in spirit. The Daughters of
|
|
Creiza and I who reside in Madison, Wisconsin will celebrate here as best
|
|
we can. After finding a yak we will persuade it to walk over an ink pad
|
|
and then follow it throughout the city trying to decipher in it's tracks
|
|
any messages that might lead us to the mysteriously missing Holy Standards
|
|
of Creiza.
|
|
|
|
Hail OTIS! Hail LOTUS! Hail RHOTOS! Hail SPODE!
|
|
|
|
I sign myself,
|
|
Creiza-Waterloo
|
|
|
|
|
|
Standard disclaimer: The Daughters of Creiza are incapable of committing
|
|
any typos or grammatical errors. We may choose, however, to randomly
|
|
create educational opportunities for others to practice their proofreading
|
|
skills.
|
|
|
|
Document C-W/03
|
|
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Stuck here in Gambier
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Sender: "WHEN I BLOW, OUT COME SPIDERS, WHERE I STEP A WEED DIES"
|
|
Subject: RE: Yak Day Celebration in Cambridge!
|
|
|
|
Well, seeing as we are all sort of stuck here in Gambier, College of
|
|
popes, saints and apostles, we can't exactly be there. However, As Knight
|
|
Protector of the Faith, I will do my damdest to arrange a paralell
|
|
celebration herein. Also, we have visitors coming...
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Yeah, and behold, it was as such that the Patron Saint of
|
|
Automotive Repairs, and trouble, Ohio Chapter, Drew Dailinger, had set out
|
|
to journey upon a quest unto the patron College of Kenyon, in hopes of
|
|
finding a miracle. It was his forlorn hope that said miracle would include
|
|
his safe arrival and return to his newest home, Umass at the Towne of
|
|
Amherst. The most loyal of followers however did chuckle at his hopes.
|
|
|
|
For it was that a year and a half had passed since his last
|
|
appearance in this damp state, and the prophet had prophesied that he
|
|
would again have trouble."
|
|
|
|
And thus I give you the news of gambier.
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Thou Shalt Not
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Sender: furlong@cuavax.dnet.cua.edu (will play with power tools for food)
|
|
Subject: Thou shalt not
|
|
|
|
>From a Guide to Mormon Youth
|
|
|
|
"Guide to Self-Control: Overcoming Masturbation."
|
|
|
|
:: ENLIST THE POWER OF PRAYER!
|
|
|
|
Pray daily, ask for the gifts of the Spirit, that which will strengthen
|
|
you against temptation.
|
|
|
|
Pray fervently and out loud when the temptations are the strongest.
|
|
|
|
When the temptation to masturbate is strong, yell "Stop!" to those
|
|
thoughts as loudly as you can in your mind. Then recite a portion of the
|
|
Bible or sing a hymn.
|
|
|
|
|
|
:: EXERCISE VIGOROUSLY!
|
|
|
|
Follow a program of vigorous daily exercise, which reduce emotional
|
|
tension and depression.
|
|
|
|
Double your physical activity when you feel stress increasing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
:: SET GOALS!
|
|
|
|
Set a goal of abstinence. Begin with a day, then a week, month, year.
|
|
Finally, commit yourself to never doing it again.
|
|
|
|
Make a pocket calendar for a month on a small card. Carry it with you
|
|
but show it to no one.
|
|
|
|
If you masturbate, color that day black. Your goal will be to have no
|
|
black days.
|
|
|
|
The calendar becomes a strong visual reminder, and should be looked at
|
|
when you are tempted to add another black day.
|
|
|
|
Keep your calendar up until you have at least three clear months.
|
|
|
|
Set up a reward system. Each time you reach a goal, award yourself a
|
|
quarter. Spend it on something that delights you.
|
|
|
|
|
|
:: WORK ON SELF-IMPROVEMENT!
|
|
|
|
Work daily on a self-improvement program. Improve your relationships with
|
|
your family. Increase your service to your church.
|
|
|
|
Be outgoing and friendly. Force yourself to be with others and learn to
|
|
enjoy working and talking with them.
|
|
|
|
Change in behavior and attitude is most easily achieved through a changed
|
|
self-image.
|
|
|
|
Spend time every day imagining yourself strong and in control, easily
|
|
overcoming tempting situations.
|
|
|
|
|
|
:: AVOID TEMPTATION!
|
|
|
|
When on the toilet or showering, leave the door partly open.
|
|
|
|
Arise immediately in the mornings. Don't lie awake in bed -- start each
|
|
day with enthusiastic activity.
|
|
|
|
Avoid people, situations, pictures and reading material that might create
|
|
sexual excitement.
|
|
|
|
|
|
:: USE PHYSICAL RESTRAINTS!
|
|
|
|
Wear pajamas that are difficult to open, yet loose and not binding.
|
|
|
|
Put on several layers of clothing that would be difficult to remove while
|
|
half asleep.
|
|
|
|
Hold an object -- for example, a Bible -- even in bed at night.
|
|
|
|
In severe cases, tie a hand to the bed frame.
|
|
|
|
|
|
:: BE ALERT TO EMOTIONS!
|
|
|
|
Be aware of situations that depress you or that cause you to feel lonely,
|
|
bored, frustrated or discouraged. These emotional states can trigger the
|
|
desire to masturbate as a way of escape.
|
|
|
|
Plan to counter these low periods through reading a book, visiting a
|
|
friend, doing something athletic, etc.
|
|
|
|
Employ aversion therapy. To cancel out the pleasurableness of
|
|
masturbating , associate something very distasteful with the act. For
|
|
example, imagine bathing in a tub of worms and eating some of them.
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Conspiracy Unveiled
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Sender: GARBETT@UTKVX.UTCC.UTK.EDU
|
|
Subject: CONSPIRACY UNVEILED
|
|
|
|
I'm on to one of the greatest conspiracies of our time. Yesterday I was
|
|
talking with some of the people in my office when one of them said "Well
|
|
things couldn't get worse." I quickly replied "Knock on wood." Then I
|
|
tried to find some--everything was VENEER and FORMICA. There was no WOOD
|
|
to be found. MINIONS of the OTHER ONE have been slaving to remove all WOOD
|
|
from our presence in an attempt to DESTROY the great works of OTIS. It's
|
|
so obvious and we've been overlooking this basic FACT. They've been doing
|
|
this under our VARIOUS noses. BAD luck will multiply and chaotically rage
|
|
through the cosmos without enough WOOD.
|
|
|
|
People are starting to ask me why I'm piling up LOGS in my office,
|
|
I just smile and tell them to go ask OTIS.
|
|
|
|
Cyber Garp Clone #314
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Nirvana: the Partridge Family of 1994?
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Sender: dm745@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Rodney E. Griffith)
|
|
Subject: Nirvana: the Partridge Family of 1994?
|
|
|
|
|
|
Comparisons between The Partridge Family and Nirvana:
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Had a string of catchy, yet commercially-contrived hit records
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Wait. That was the Nirvana description.
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Danny Bonaduce arrested for altercation with transvestite prostitute
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Kurdt Cobain married to Courtney Love
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Wore tacky plaid clothing and bellbottoms
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Wear flannel shirts and bellbottoms
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Recordings largely the work of studio musicians
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Recordings largely the work of CIA conspiracy
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Presented squeaky clean "just say no" image
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Kurdt Cobain developed NyQuil and Heroin highball as flu cure
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
David Cassidy posed nude for _Rolling Stone_
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Firebombed Canadian adult bookstore
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Laurie Partidge prone to make sarcastic remarks at Keith's expense
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Prone to stage catfights with Axl Rose
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Used dated 1970s pop-art graphics on record sleeves
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Use dated 1970s pop-art graphics on record sleeves
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Epitomy of bad hairstyling
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Part of "grunge" scene
|
|
|
|
THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY:
|
|
Based on the Cowsills
|
|
|
|
NIRVANA:
|
|
Based on a million forgotten late 1970s bands
|
|
|
|
--Rodney
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
Messenger of the Gods Part What Ever
|
|
####===================================================================####
|
|
[With someone more or less holding a gun to my head I managed to whack out
|
|
another installment of the dread Messenger of the Gods. In the below
|
|
paragraphs I try to bring the readers up to date. If you want to know what
|
|
really happened (as opposed to my perhaps exaggerated or mis-remembered
|
|
summary) look though previous issues of Purps it's all there. Or wait for
|
|
the coming of the Great Otisian Book! (then again maybe this won't be in
|
|
there seeing as it's not done and didn't meet the dead lines and is sort
|
|
of drifting like a airplane with a weasel at the controls.)]
|
|
|
|
{As our readers may recall from previous episodes,(though we probably have
|
|
30 or 40 new subscribers since this torrid tale graced these pages.), the
|
|
narrator having received a divine vision over a t.v. set was ordered
|
|
(Okay asked nicely with dire threats implied if the geas was not carried
|
|
out.) to deliver a mysterious valentine of Eris to the Great God Otis.
|
|
(Otis of course being a great goddess and wanted to play along and knowing
|
|
full well that if he tried to simply pluck the valentine from the hands of
|
|
the messenger it would be destroyed by the sender sits back and watches only
|
|
occasionally intervening. [This previous sentence was inserted to allay any
|
|
arguments presents by scoffers of Otis who claim that if he really were
|
|
divine she'd simply take the valentine and have done rather than sit back
|
|
in her morris chair and watch as our narrator gyrates in a most brownian
|
|
manner though a byzantine plot which most of our readers have forgotten
|
|
this point. Of course the normal Otisian scoffer--that is one who
|
|
disbelieves in the divineness of the great Sumeria Goddess Otis-- would
|
|
probably not read as far figuring that this paragraph was a lot of clap
|
|
trap designed to bamboozle the average joe or cynthia on the street rather
|
|
than a lucid explanation of the events as they unfolded in the narrative.]
|
|
|
|
Okay so our narrator one evening receives a divine valentine that he must
|
|
deliver. This valentine occasionally manifests extremely nifty powers
|
|
though most of the time rests securely in the pocket of our narrator.
|
|
|
|
Our narrator realized he's got to get his hinder in gear rushes home to
|
|
muster the forces at his command to make the journey north to the Great Hay
|
|
Stack Monument. [Of course our narrator did not know where to journey at
|
|
first seeing as Eris in her infinitely chaotic scatter brained wisdom
|
|
decided not to tell him.]
|
|
|
|
On his mad rush home the radio in his car acts up and spews forth into his
|
|
gray matter all manner of weird radiation and ideas. Also when our
|
|
narrator returns to his abode his is harassed continuously by strange
|
|
voices on the phone. [All this is important to the story believe it or not
|
|
because these spewing may help the reader to explain the strange
|
|
statements about aluminium siding which follow.]
|
|
|
|
The narrator summons the King of Rock and Roll to his aid. The King
|
|
having never really died and being snatched by the the Space friends [go
|
|
read Tom Swift for that dear readers.] ends up being in charge of a
|
|
tremendously invisible navy situated 10,000 leagues below the surface of the
|
|
ocean in the waters of the Bermuda Triangle.
|
|
|
|
The King arrives in his flag ship vessel, an old atomic submarine that
|
|
had gone missing at one point. On this vessel besides some other
|
|
characters to be introduces in a moment is a weird alien artifact only
|
|
Elvis knows how to operate. It was given to him by the space friends, who
|
|
always operating on a very low budge hoped the strange off world
|
|
contraption might some how turn the tables on the great battle Elvis would
|
|
eventually face with he slugs it out toe to toe with the
|
|
Anti-Christ, who
|
|
even now musters his forces all over the planet. The man in the blue
|
|
turban is alive and well. He might even be eating dinner as you read this.
|
|
Who knows what time zone he's in. Why Russian alone has 11 of them.
|
|
|
|
The artifact among other things seems to be able to warp space and time
|
|
chopping hoes in the dimensions like a croquette mallet though whipped
|
|
cream. A by product of this are great gouts of tornado green fog. This
|
|
device is probably extremely dangerous and one slip of the controls could
|
|
plunge the earth into the center of the sun. Still on as tight a budge as
|
|
the poor space friends have to operate with they have to make due.
|
|
|
|
Aboard the submarine, besides the King of Rock and Roll himself, who by
|
|
the way looks like the young Elvis only his eyes appear very old. Only he
|
|
knows all that those eyes have seen. Strange things have happened to him
|
|
since his death. Living 10,000 leagues under the sea plays tricks on the
|
|
mind. Going door to door begging for money for his invisible navy also has
|
|
taken its toll. Perhaps any other mortal would be dead. Not Elvis.
|
|
Strange powers protect him. Perhaps it's his ectoplasmic twin brother
|
|
Jesse.
|
|
|
|
Oh I got lost there. Okay, besides the big E. is a Man in Black. Yes the
|
|
dreaded Man in Black. Usually men in black travel in braces of two or
|
|
trios. I this case there is only one of them. Thanks goodness for that.
|
|
One man in black is scary enough. He and the narrator and perhaps Elvis
|
|
know each other from way back and often refer to obscure things from the
|
|
past. The Man in Black is cold and ruthless considering most of Man kind
|
|
some sort of cattle to be carted off to Nightmare Alley. He carries an
|
|
arsenal of strange devices and uses them freely, sucking brains one moment
|
|
and the next buffing his nails with a beam of neutrons. He knows something
|
|
about the artifact of Elvis', but not enough to use it. He seems also
|
|
familiar with the strange dimensions our narrators journeyed though.
|
|
|
|
Next on the passenger of list of this old atomic submarine of Elvis is Doc
|
|
Mabuto mysterious witch doctor scientist, considered by many countries to
|
|
be a psychotic mad man or worse. Just because he bilked the National
|
|
Science Foundations out of millions of dollars to create a race of fish
|
|
men and grow aquatic ganja is no excuse to consider him mad. Still when he
|
|
waves his bone rattles around and summons up loas and lord knows what else one
|
|
has to wonder. Included with Doc Mabuto of course are his fishmen. He'd rescued
|
|
them from a secret government lab with the help some sort sea monster of sea god.
|
|
The fishmen run the entire submarine and don't do much except follow orders and
|
|
smell like fish. Still they I suppose add to the mood of the whole story.
|
|
|
|
And so our narrators boards the submarine to discover this weird lot of beings
|
|
designed to raise the hair and perhaps turn the stomach of the average Joe or
|
|
Cynthia on the street.
|
|
|
|
They head north only to discover they are being followed by a strange flying
|
|
saucer. They stop the submarine and decided to investigate using the artifact as
|
|
their form of transportation. Basically they walk though the dimensions to stand
|
|
next to the saucers which they easily over come.
|
|
|
|
Inside they discover a strange blonde haired woman in a leather trench coat with
|
|
a odd german accident. She is piloting the saucer, which is by the way rather
|
|
boxy and made by the Mayans it appears. Also with her are two frop heads who
|
|
plagued our narrator in an earlier episode only to end up getting tossed into
|
|
the neighbors pool.
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black, who accompanies the narrator on this walk about to the saucer
|
|
puts a brain cap on one of the Frop heads and we learn many mysterious things,
|
|
none of which will be revealed in hopes it will encourage our readers to find
|
|
back issues of purps. In the process of the interrogation the frop head dies.
|
|
|
|
Then the greys appear and the narrator and the Man in Black run dragging the
|
|
woman. THe other frop head is left for the greys to snatch off to nightmare
|
|
alley or what ever they will do.
|
|
|
|
They run from the greys for quite a time encountering three humans in the
|
|
tornado green fog. One is huge, another a priest and the third is nondescript
|
|
they seem to be fighting the greys and gleefully run off weidling huge cleavers
|
|
and machine guns.
|
|
|
|
By now our heroes realized they must be lost. They've not found their way back
|
|
to the submarine as of yet.
|
|
|
|
The chases continues. The greys always behind them along with noises of battle.
|
|
Finally the come across a pair of what appear to be humanoids in a row boat who
|
|
claim to have been sent to rescue them. They all row off in to the green fog
|
|
only to the have the boat sink and the greys attack.
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black, our narrator and the woman from the saucer get dumped
|
|
suppose out of harms way in some sort of mystery spot while the two in the
|
|
row boat go off to do battle with the greys using some outlandish looking
|
|
ray guns.
|
|
|
|
Our heroes seem to be back on earth but they soon learn otherwise. After a
|
|
series of misshapes they find themselves being forced into a shot gun
|
|
wedding with two inbred women know as Vasoline and Gasoline who's favorite
|
|
past time seems to be popping bubbles in packing material. Elvis appears
|
|
suddenly to save the day only to be attacked by the love crazed berserk
|
|
Vasoline and Gasoline who insist that they must have Elvis's love children.
|
|
|
|
The horror only stops when Otis intervenes and saves Elvis, for the moment from
|
|
a fate worse than death.
|
|
|
|
Our heroes once again manage to enter the green fog this time following a rope
|
|
that Elvis had brought with him. Vasoline follows and once again wrappers
|
|
herself around Elvis. More greys and more mayhem, until they are dumped
|
|
into some sort of rest room. They tear through the building following the
|
|
rope. Our narrator gets tackled by a grey and ends up chopping it up with a
|
|
fire ax and blowing most of it's head off with a machine pistol. Finally he
|
|
catches up with the Man in Black who's put a brain cap on another helpless
|
|
victims. The rope leads into a blank wall and hopefully beyond is the
|
|
submarine. They're almost home...}
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black looked down at me.
|
|
|
|
"Through there is the Submarine," said the Man in Black triumphantly,
|
|
pointing at the rope disappearing into the blank wall. It looked as though
|
|
we'd made it home at last.
|
|
|
|
Using the wall, I tried to pull myself to my feet. The Man in Black
|
|
ignored me for the moment. With an amazing show of strength he picked up
|
|
the dazed woman with the brain cap and tossed her at the wall. Her eyes
|
|
rolled like drunken ping pong balls. Through she went. From the other
|
|
side came a weirdly distorted clatter of machine guns and a yelling
|
|
voice. It sounded like Mabuto! We were indeed close.
|
|
|
|
I was standing now. My legs felt like a couple of soggy q-tips. I was
|
|
bleeding from the axe cut. My blood mingled with the bluish alien blood
|
|
staining my pants. What a mess.
|
|
|
|
"Wait! She's important!" I yelled at the Man in Black as he made ready to
|
|
toss the woman from the Mayan Saucer though the wall. Mabuto and his
|
|
fishmen on the other side sounded a bit trigger happy. I didn't blame them
|
|
one bit.
|
|
|
|
He dropped her like a discarded rag doll. At the rate things were going I
|
|
could imagine her ended up dead.
|
|
|
|
"You are in no shape to help me. What am I to do? Should I toss you
|
|
through the the wall as well?" he sneared. He was enjoying himself
|
|
chucking people about and scaring them for that matter. I could easily
|
|
picture him chucking some little old lady about who'd been visited by
|
|
little green men. "You must not divulge your encounter to anyone!" he'd
|
|
intone grabbing her by an orthopedic hose clad ankle and flipping her
|
|
across the room her over the sofa.
|
|
|
|
"Look. You grab Elvis and company and I'll manage to woman. Let's get to
|
|
the submarine."
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black surveyed Elvis and Vasoline then gingerly grabbed a limb
|
|
that looked the driest and dragged them through the wall. I heard Mabuto
|
|
shout and some gun fire.I limped over an grabbed the woman by her collar
|
|
and dragged her through. Just as my head went into the wall I heard a
|
|
distant electronic buzz. The greys had entered this dimension.
|
|
|
|
It was like going though one of those old beaded curtains. One second I
|
|
was in that building and the next I was on the mess deck of the submarine.
|
|
There was blood all over the floor. For a moment I was deafened by gun
|
|
fire. Bullets chopped into the deck around me.
|
|
|
|
"Hold your fire my fishmen!" yelled Mabuto rushing forward. The little man
|
|
capered about like a demon happy to have us back. There were flicks of
|
|
blood on his white suit.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry about that. They're a bit blood thirsty," said Mabuto out of the
|
|
side of his mouth helping me drag the woman cross the deck. She slid
|
|
easily over the floor greased with splattered blood. THe woman who the Man
|
|
in Black chucked through the wall had been chopped to death by the gun
|
|
happy fishmen. The Man in Black had narrowly missed the same fate. So had
|
|
I for that matter.
|
|
|
|
"We've got to shut this thing down now!" said Mabuto standing up and
|
|
dusting his hands. He went over to where Elvis and Vasoline were locked
|
|
together. He nudged them with a toe. He was barefoot.
|
|
|
|
"Bad juju," he said shaking his head. From his back pocket he pulled out
|
|
his feathered rattle.
|
|
|
|
I looked around the mess deck. There bullet holes and blood all over the
|
|
place. Each of the fishmen was clad in some kind of flak jacket holding a
|
|
futuristic looking machine gun. I later learned Mabuto had gotten those
|
|
weapons and armor from the prison where he'd rescued his fish men. It was
|
|
a prison for very special prisoners. One time he muttered about old men
|
|
with metal boxes attached to their waists that kept fading in and out of
|
|
reality. He refused to talk about it much.
|
|
|
|
I blotted my leg with a fist full of napkins. Damn we were in trouble.
|
|
Elvis was all tangled up in the Vasoline thing and couldn't shut off the
|
|
artifact. The greys would be breathing down out throats soon. None of the
|
|
rest of us dared touch the gift from the space friends. Only Elvis knew
|
|
its secrets. Besides, one does not have much confidence in diddle with a
|
|
piece of alien hardware powered off a series of old boat batteries. This
|
|
meant the submarine had an open door. Those greys would no doubt figure it
|
|
out any time and come pouring it. We needed an awake and alert Elvis now.
|
|
|
|
I asked the Man in Black if he had any ideas. He was after all our
|
|
supposed expert on alien devices. He stood to one side using some sort of
|
|
electrostatic brush to dust himself off. Great gobs of saliva flaked off
|
|
with showers of static sparks.
|
|
|
|
"Call the Space Friends. Let them deal with it," he muttered clearly not
|
|
wanted anything to do with Vasoline.
|
|
|
|
"Quick!" Mabuto yelled. He's hastily dawned a bowler hat and was painting
|
|
ash all over his face. From somewhere he produced a gunny full of lord
|
|
knows what. It rattled like it was full of bottles and bones.
|
|
|
|
Mabuto said something in an unearthly language and the fishmen formed a
|
|
circle around the Elvis.
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black and I looked at each other. "I will go check on the
|
|
course of the submarine," said the man in black hastily leaving. Of course
|
|
he just wanted out of there. He was probably scared for life after being
|
|
killed by those things. The submarine was still at a stop, I could tell.
|
|
We would have never found out way back to the submarine if it had moved.
|
|
That gave me and idea. I limped after the Man in Black leaving Mabuto to
|
|
his task.
|
|
|
|
As I walked down the corridors an earthly wailing began behind me,
|
|
punctuated by a harmonica and sometimes a kazoo or maybe an accordion.
|
|
What the hell was Mabuto up to. The corridors were rigged for night time.
|
|
Only red lights shown. My damn leg collapsed under me once. I really
|
|
needed to attend to it.
|
|
|
|
I stumbled into the control room. By the door stood one of Mabuto's fish
|
|
men. He'd been left as a guard. He eyed the wad of napkins I held to my
|
|
leg hungrily. A drop of blood ran down my pants. The fish man licked his
|
|
lips.
|
|
|
|
I limped over to the Man in Black. He stood in front of the diving
|
|
controls arms crossed looking over the instruments. As I came closer I
|
|
noticed a storm of yellow stickies were pasted up over the entire face of
|
|
the controls. Directions were written on them like "Don't let this go red"
|
|
next to a dial, or "Don't push this!" next to a button.
|
|
|
|
"You know how to drive this thing?" I asked the Man in Black. He turned
|
|
toward me, the red light glinting off those dark lens covering his eyes.
|
|
He looked extremely menacing now. I guess he'd recovered from or little
|
|
adventure in the tornado green fog.
|
|
|
|
"Do you?" he countered. He seemed pleased with himself for the answer. I
|
|
heard a shuffling behind me. The fishman drew closer to us, watching me
|
|
closely like some vulture waiting for a kill. I was far from dead and told
|
|
the disappointed fish man so.
|
|
|
|
"If Elvis can move this thing why can't we? He's got all the instructions
|
|
there," I said pointing at the yellow stickies. I noticed a party hat on
|
|
top of one console. Had the fishmen been having a party while we were
|
|
gone? That was impossible. We'd only been gone for five minutes. Or had
|
|
we? Time mean nothing in the tornado green fog and you certainly couldn't
|
|
tell night form day in the damn red light on the sub.
|
|
|
|
"Can't we turn on a real light?" I asked hunting thought he yellow
|
|
stickies for a clue to operating the lights.
|
|
|
|
"Leave them," intoned the Man in Black. "They remind me of the cloud cover
|
|
of Venus."
|
|
|
|
"Go away!" I yelled at the fish man who was edging closer again. He just
|
|
glared at me and returned to his place by the door. He tilted his head to
|
|
hear the weird noises coming down the corridor. Who knows what Mabuto was
|
|
up to. Hopefully he's save Elvis from the love crazed Vasoline.
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black had stepped to one side and lifted a panel. There were an
|
|
assortment of lights and buttons under it. I limped over to see. Maybe
|
|
he'd found the proper controls. Maybe it was an autopilot. It looked
|
|
complicated enough. Someone, I assume Elvis had pasted a piece of typing
|
|
paper on the inside cover of the panel which said "Boom!" in big letters.
|
|
|
|
It was the torpedo controls. No help there. Typical of the Man in Black to
|
|
find something destructive during an emergency.
|
|
|
|
I went back to the other controls keeping and eye on the hungry fishman by
|
|
the door and hearing the kazoo noise from Mabuto down in the mess deck.
|
|
Methodically I started reading the yellow stickies. After a moment I found
|
|
a button that said, "start engines". Remarkably enough it looked like an
|
|
ignition switch to a car. In fact it was expoxied and duct taped to the
|
|
side of the drive plane controls. What strange modifications had Elvis
|
|
done? I looked over my shoulder at the fishman and over at the Man in
|
|
Black, who was still gloating over the torpedo control.
|
|
|
|
I twisted the key. Somewhere an electric humming began and the lights
|
|
flickered for a moment. Wildly I looked around for some indication of what
|
|
was going on. Several gages were moving. The dive plane controls were
|
|
moving by themselves like a steering wheel would if no one holds onto them
|
|
while a car is in motion. I grabbed at them and flopped down into the
|
|
seat. We were moving.
|
|
|
|
"Hey look out the periscope and see where we're going!" I yelled at the
|
|
Man in Black. He ignored me lost in the torpedo controls. I yelled again.
|
|
He moved over to the periscope and managed to raise it by flipping some
|
|
lever. As soon as it was eye level he looked thought eyepiece knocking off
|
|
his black hat. His arm darted down like a cobra and caught the hat in mid
|
|
air. Back on his head it went. If I had blinked I would have missed it. I
|
|
must have been seeing things because I thought I saw a bald spot. Menacing
|
|
killer Men in Black with bald spots like aging used car salesmen? This was
|
|
too weird. Still it helped explained why they wore their hats indoors.
|
|
|
|
Suddenly the sub lurched to one side. I jerked the controls in hopes of it
|
|
doing something. Now we lurched the other way. I heard Mabuto's music stop
|
|
and some yelling starting. Something crashed and banged somewhere. Some
|
|
charts fell out of their racks spilling onto the floor. I guess driving a
|
|
sub is harder than it looked.
|
|
|
|
"Well? See anything?" I asked the Man in Black. I'd found the level
|
|
indicator and was trying to hold the sub steady. I'd also found the
|
|
compass and had pointed our course north. We were going north after all.
|
|
North to the great Hay Stack monument in Mass. to deliver that damned
|
|
valentine. Here I was in a leaky old atomic sub when I could be at home
|
|
now looking through aluminium siding brochures or checking my bank account
|
|
to see if I had enough money to invest in the that Dobbs pyramid scheme
|
|
I'd heard about.
|
|
|
|
Wait! What was I saying? I shook my head heard. Damn that "BoB". His
|
|
influence was still with me. In my weakened start of blood loss his
|
|
subliminal advertising influence took over.
|
|
|
|
"Nothing," said the Man in Black. "Too deep" he intoned in his typical
|
|
manner. In some ways I was glad to see him back to his normal self.
|
|
|
|
I guess I'd have to go up. How the hell do you steer a submarine anyway?
|
|
On Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea they had a big window to look out of
|
|
and all that sonar stuff. That's it! Sonar I thought. "Go look at the
|
|
sonar!"
|
|
|
|
The Man in Black was still looking though the periscope like it was some
|
|
sort of peep show. What could be so interesting about water?
|
|
|
|
"Get away from there and go check the sonar!" I said. "What's so
|
|
interesting about water?"
|
|
|
|
"Greys..." muttered the Man in Black going over to the sonar. Or what I
|
|
assumed the sonar since it was making that sonar pinging noise your always
|
|
hear. This was insane! Greys! We needed Elvis and he was tied up with that
|
|
inbred female thing from another dimension. Still Elvis was some sort of
|
|
Super being so maybe he really as necessary. I suppose hero's had to have
|
|
faults too. Like I just noticed the old plate of gravy and biscuits slid
|
|
under one of the banks of instruments. I could see Elvis sitting at these
|
|
control a steaming plate of gravy and biscuits on his lap as he lonely
|
|
piloted this outdated atomic submarine though the murky depths of the
|
|
ocean biding his time until he would be ready to destroy the Anti-Christ.
|
|
It was almost enough to make you believe in an all powerful divine entity.
|
|
Luckily the ones we were dealing with here did not rely on human faith and
|
|
often showed up on ones door step to make a divine manifestation to insure
|
|
eager and loyal worshippers.
|
|
|
|
"Greys?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"Too shallow!" yelled the Man in Black as we ran aground and came to an
|
|
abrupt stop. I heard sand grate across our keel. I yanked the key out of
|
|
the ignition epoxied to the control board and shut down the engines. What
|
|
had I done? Well at least I've moved the submarine and hopefully that
|
|
would confuse the greys. THe fishman blundered to his feet and ran off
|
|
down the corridor to Mabuto. The Man in Black miraculously had kept his
|
|
feet and peered over at me his face light up by the sonar screen. He'd
|
|
planned that little scene knowing him.
|
|
|
|
"We're doomed," he intone. I shudder when down my spine. What had I done?
|
|
|
|
I must have fainted then because when I woke up I was strapped into a bunk
|
|
in what I took to be sick bay. Flanking me was Elvis sans Vasoline and the
|
|
woman from the Mayan flying saucer. I had a large bandage on my leg. My
|
|
pant leg neatly cut way. Around the bandage were drawn a maze of symbols
|
|
that made me dizzy to look at. Elvis, naked, was covered from head to toe
|
|
in them. The woman just had them on her face.
|
|
|
|
"So you awake my friend," said Mabuto coming into my vision. He smile was
|
|
enormous. He seemed very pleased with himself. He gave off this strange
|
|
smell like ozone.
|
|
|
|
"What's going on?" I asked jerking against the straps that held me down.
|
|
Mabuto placed a small hand on my chest and pressed me back. For such a
|
|
small man he was very strong "Stop." he commanded looking me square in the
|
|
eye. I did. It felt like I'd been hit by a bolt of electricity.
|
|
|
|
"We are grounded on the bottom. We have not moved since you put us there,"
|
|
said Mabuto chuckling and wagging his over finger at me. He smiled again.
|
|
I noticed his gums were almost white. Very weird.
|
|
|
|
"I have freed the King of Rock and Roll from that thing. We threw it into
|
|
the cleansing atomic fires of the reactor. I can do no more," explained
|
|
the witch doctor looking at Elvis. He looked at the woman. "She is merely
|
|
resting. I've tranqualized her so we can decided to do with here. The Man
|
|
in Black and I have been in heated debate. I wish to turn her into a
|
|
fishman. I've never done it on a woman before. He insists interrogation
|
|
and then a trip to the fiery atomic furnace. I'm sure neither of those
|
|
alternative pleases you, but you're strapped to the table at the moment."
|
|
|
|
The woman stirred in his sleep tossing her blond head as if she could tell
|
|
she was being talked about.
|
|
|
|
"Oh this may be of interest my friend," said Mabuto holding up some sort
|
|
of wallet. "This is her's." He gestured at the woman. A fishman came and
|
|
whispered his ear then left.
|
|
|
|
His supple fingers snaked into the wallet and removed a piece of
|
|
parchment which he unfolded. It was covered in German. There were little
|
|
swastikas all over it for decoration and borders. "It is german and it
|
|
looks third Reich. It is, only they didn't have laser printers back then.
|
|
This is much newer."
|
|
|
|
"What! Nazis! Where? They're always cropping up." I said. Mabuto folded
|
|
the paper and put it back in the woman's wallet. "I must leave you now.
|
|
The Man in Black seems to have tried to use a brain cap on one of my
|
|
fishmen."
|
|
|
|
I was trapped. There was nothing I could do. They'd taken my jacket off so
|
|
there was not hope I could get at some tool or weapon and cut the straps.
|
|
Elvis was dead out and so was the woman. I shrugged for a few minutes
|
|
exhausting myself.I was still weak from blood loss. Occasionally I could
|
|
hear a shout or a bang in the distance over the ever present noise of the
|
|
air conditioning. What sort of help had Elvis recruited who would be
|
|
fighting over doing dire experiments a Nazi woman? They sounded like a
|
|
couple of old movie serial villains. I had a valentine to deliver didn't
|
|
they know that.
|
|
|
|
Desperately I prayed. It was time to get back on our quest. Nothing
|
|
happened. No radios switched on and began to speak. No chimpanzees began
|
|
to appear. No golden hot pants. No stars or comets.
|
|
|
|
I waited.
|
|
|
|
I prayed again.
|
|
|
|
A fishman stuck his head in to check on me. I yelled at him. He hurried
|
|
away. It looked like it had a black eye if it were possible for fishmen to
|
|
have such things.
|
|
|
|
I decided that maybe if I sat here long enough Otis would put in
|
|
appearance. Still trying the patience eof a god was not a god idea. I
|
|
prayed again.
|
|
|
|
I sung a tune about a yak I made up on the spot.
|
|
|
|
More noise in the distance. Suddenly all sound stopped. The lights
|
|
flickered in the sick bay. Everything went black. I felt a hand touch my
|
|
cheek then I was free and the lights came back on.
|
|
|
|
I saw up and climbed off the bunk. I thought of freeing Elvis and the
|
|
woman but they bother were still dead out.
|
|
|
|
My jacket was laid over an empty bunk. I put it on and started out into
|
|
the corridor. I carefully listened then headed toward the sound. There was
|
|
a dull banging and some yelling. It sounded like Mabuto giving orders.
|
|
|
|
I made my way aft further than I'd been before following the noise. The
|
|
engine room grew closer and closer. Radiation warning signs began to
|
|
appear on the wall. I tried to ignore them. Mabuto would never take his
|
|
fishmen this far aft unless it was safe for them. I figured fishmen could
|
|
tolerate radiation as well as I could.
|
|
|
|
Before me a tremendous water tight hatch was open. Beyond it were the
|
|
fishmen and Mabuto. Then I caught a glimpse of the Man in Black. So they
|
|
were fighting back here. Cautiously I crept forward and peered around the
|
|
build head. They were in the antechamber to the reactor proper and
|
|
amazingly enough they weren't fighting. They were staring at the great
|
|
lead door to the reactor looking rather worried. A dull pounding was
|
|
coming from beyond it.
|
|
|
|
Since the fighting appeared to be over. I boldly walked over to the Man in
|
|
Black. I felt more comfortable talking to him than the small witch
|
|
doctor. In some ways he seemed more human. Maybe the voodoo spirits
|
|
hanging around Mabuto did it.
|
|
|
|
"What gives?" I asked. The Man in Black gave a start. I stifled a laugh.
|
|
|
|
"The creature we threw in there wants out."
|
|
|
|
--Mal 1994
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|
####===================================================================####
|
|
THEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHEENDTHE
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####===================================================================####
|
|
--Subink 1994
|