1189 lines
54 KiB
Plaintext
1189 lines
54 KiB
Plaintext
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B L I T Z O N C O M P U T E R C R I M E
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BY SALLY MORRELL
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POLICE REPORTER
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Victorian police are planning a crackdown on the illegal use of computer
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'bulletin boards'.
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The incidence of the crime in Australia is said to be increasing.
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Det-Sgt Dave Thompson, of the fraud squad's computer crime section,
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said today computer bulletin boards were used by companies to relay
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information, but they could be used illegally by criminals.
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Det-Sgt Thompson said the use of "pirate" bulletin boards was already a
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major problem in America, where they were used by pedophiles and other
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criminals.
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"They are used for trafficking in stolen credit card numbers, paedophiles
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use sexually orientated bulletin boards to make contacts, and criminals
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are using them to sell stolen goods and drugs and swap information on
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accessing other people's computers", he said.
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Det-Sgt Thompson has just returned from a six-week study tour of the US,
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England, Canada and Hong Kong as part of an Angela Taylor Memorial
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Scholarship.
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He attended an FBI course on computer crime and studied how other police
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forces were trying to solve the problem.
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Det-Sgt Thompson said a number of criminals used computers to process and
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store criminal information and to commit crimes.
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He said overseas police forces were experiencing a rapid increase in
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computer crime and had established computer crime sections. "This tends
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to confirm claims that much computer crime goes un-reported. Our workload
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has been increasing as people get to know we exist", he said.
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"I have certainly confirmed my view that there is a need for investigators
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with special skills in the computer crime area."
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Det-Sgt Thompson said there had been cases in Victoria in which credits card
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information was stored illegally on the bulletin boards.
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He said it was possible for criminals with this information to buy items
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using someone else's credit card.
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Det-Sgt Thompson expected the incidence of computer crime to increase
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in Victoria as the use of computers increased.
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* The Herald Newspaper (9th October 1989)
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/{ V V V V
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|o |__I_I________I_I
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U\__________________\_____
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T h e D e a d R a t S o c i e t y
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proudly presents
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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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T H E R A T P H I L E S
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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/ /
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____________/ /
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|_______________/
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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featuring..
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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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O F T H E L O S T N E T C O M M
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We are getting desperate. We have travelled twenty days into the treacherous
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Channadrac Jungle, and have not found fresh water in the last two of those
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days. Our food supplies are fast running out, and I fear for the lives of my
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trusted companions. Wally is the most serious case, his heavy torso is no match
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for this rugged terrain. However he is much needed on this expedition, for he
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is our guide, and is the only member of our expedition who knows anything of
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the wilds of Channadrac Forest. Already his knowledge has proved invaluable -
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who else would have thought that you could find nutrition in fresh elephant
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sperm. [Whose mouth is that big?-Ed.] Always in behind Wally is Bruce Wayne,
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whose stories of seduction and wild women keep us entertained during the long
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hard hours of walking. Also with us is Captain Blood, together with his
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fearless (and cute) sister Mr Jordan, whose work with the leather whip has
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often saved us from the jaws of an attacking Paedophilias Maskius, a feared
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creature that stalks its prey with perverted jokes and lethal farts. Lastly,
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with us is my loyal and trusted friend, Avalon, who fears nothing but the sky
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falling on his head, or losing an argument with Dune Messiah about his pooter.
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And our mission - to go where no bulletin board users with egoes have gone
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before - to seek the legendary NetComm M5 9600 baud modem, said to reside
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in a temple of gold deep within the Forests Of Channadrac. We have been told
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many weird and terrifying storied about this place, of stale Nutri Grain,
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putrid Orange Juice, bottles of 50/50 Metho/Kerosine, and the the strangest
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story of all, and by far the most feared of all, is the Legend Of Cefiar, a
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bullshitartist extraordinaire, with abilities beyond a mere Taxi Cab, more
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longer lasting than a Dune Messiah message, able to brush aside mere quotes
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from Ausom magazines and replace them with stories of programming powers way
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beyond mortal QuickBasic beginners. But on we travel, deeper and deeper into
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the wilds, determined to face and overcome every obstacle, determined to claim
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this treasure for ourselves, and make the front cover of Australian Personal
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Computer magazine.
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We have travelled through Wendy's Valley [Nice hills too-ED.], passed over the
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Lowe Rises, trudged through The Swamps Of Depression, and climbed Benny Hill.
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But it wasn't much fun so we got off him and sat on the ground instead.
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---------
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We enter a quiet valley, flanked by cliffs of coarse limestone. We stop, there
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is a figure ahead. Several figures. Infact, we were surrounded by figures.
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Ones.. twos.. fives, and even nines.
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Avalon and I approached one of the giant numbers. It was carved out of
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soft sandstone, the work of a master craftsman. But a lazy one too, as
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shavings had been left under the sculptures. Avalon paused, and told me to
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listen.
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"Chip, chip... chip chip.."
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"Vagabond?", I asked.
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"No, ", replied Avalon, "more like the sound of a chisel making contact with
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soft sandstone in the hands of a master craftsman."
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Mr Jordan butted in, "Like the guy over there you mean...".
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We all turned to face the little man not far away, working away at one of
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his unfinished figures.
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I looked at Avalon, he looked back at me. We approached together.
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"err... excuse me?" I politely interrupted the little man.
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The figure grunted, "Piss off, I'm busy.".
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"Oh... you're people!", he said, turning around showing his oriental face
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to us for the first time. "How awesome!"
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I looked at Avalon, he looked back at me. An amazing deduction I noted.
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This guy must be a genius or something.
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"Excuse me, sir, but my friends and I are just curiously interested in
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your work. What are you doing, anyway?"
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"What am I doing?", quizzed the little man, now up on his feet. "Isn't
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it obvious.. like haven't you got the brain power to see it or something?
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Huh? Huh?"
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"ummm.."
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"HA! What a prole! A work of a mega genius.. and he doesn't understand it! Ha!"
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The little man seemed to gain energy with every word. He was wandering around
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his little creation now. "Why.. can't you see.. they're numbers right??"
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Avalon was intrigued. "Yes," he said, "They're numbers. Ninety-one. Eighty-two.
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Ninety-four. Eighty-five. So what?"
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"And what about that.. huh! Over there - what do you see?" he quizzed again,
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obviously frustrated with us.
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"Just three-hundred and eighty-five. Whats so deep about that? It isn't
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even divisable by forty-two."
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The little man was crying now, as if his life's work has just been insulted.
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Infact, I think it had.
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"There..there..", comforted Mr Jordan. "Tell me what it means, please.
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I'm interested."
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"Really?", blubbered the little man, now on his knees. "A.. And.. Anderso..",
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he tried vainly to pronounce.
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"ANDERSON SCORE!" yelled Avalon in new-found enlightenment. "Its an Anderson
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Score!"
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"Anderson score?", queried Mr Jordan.
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"What?", shrieked the little man. "You don't know what an Anderson Score is?
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You don't know about Life's Ultimately Awesomely Mega Achievement? Life's Goal!
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The intellectual Nirvana for every mortal on this planet! The dreams of
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peasants and aims of geniuses. Society's divider between ignorant and
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enlightened! And you don't even know what it is??"
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"What happened to.. um.." replied Mr Jordan, confused.
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Bruce Wayne, who had been quiet till now, butted in. "You mean I've
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been chasing the wrong things all my life, wasting my time with wine and
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women and parties... that all along I've been ignoring the real meaning
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to life?"
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Avalon, concerned, lead us off, "No, Bruce, this man is diseased. Warped.
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You can't tell me studying and exams and pressure and chemical formulas
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and thematic essays is fun??"
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"Maybe he's a sadist.", I added, thoughtfully.
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"But!", shrieked the little man, "the ego.. the ego.. THE EGO!!"
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"No.", said Avalon, determined. "Man cannot live on ego alone..."
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"Thats true.", I added.
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"Though some people come pretty close .."
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I led the group back onto the trail. Mr Jordan waved goodbye to him. Soon
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General Discomfort was back, chipping away at his numbers, twitching slightly.
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--------
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Soon we are out of the twisting jungle, and up onto some high plains, not
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unlike the Andes. Avalon pointed out some rather large footprints nearby,
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mumbled something about Ug boots.
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Mr Jordan was getting nervous. Her mummy had often told her stories
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about creatures that stalk [Stalker?-Ed.] the high plains, carrying off young
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maidens in their great big hands. She grasped her brother tightly, glancing
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back and forth along the track like the hunted.
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We approached a cave in the mountain side. Captain Blood was eager to
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investigate, so we all followed. Mr Jordan opted out, and sat down outside
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the cave and hummed a Julian Lennon tune.
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It was dark inside, and when I had the soldering-iron blow torch running,
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it was revealed to be a rather boring cave too. However, Wally pointed
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out the rather odd looking pile of Apple Computers in the back of the
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cave, but all we could do is shrug and rejoin Mr Jordan outside.
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As we neard the entrance, a scream was heard. It was Mr Jordan.
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"Oh no!", cried the Captain, as he rushed ahead of us, fearing the worst
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for his sister. Av and I jogged out, only to find him on the ground,
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whimpering, holding what was left of a torn pin-striped jacket and a
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single Doc Martin.
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There were Ug-Boot foot-prints everywhere, and Avalon suggested we follow them.
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It was quite easy to follow the prints, they were twice the size of any
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other normal foot. Along the path we found the other Doc Martin, then further
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along a dicarded pair of jeans. Captain was gettin extremely worried now, and
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feared that a fate worse than sex with The Masked Avenger had befallen his
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beloved sister.
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The footprints led to the entrance of another cave in the hillside,
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and from within we heard weird sounds. No, it wasn't screams. In fact,
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it was more like laughter.
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The figure of Mr Jordan approached. Her clothes were torn, her hair a mess.
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She was staggering like a drunk. And laughing.
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"Hahahahah! Its so small!!! Heehehehohohohohahahahah" she cried, wheezing
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and giggling into Captain's arms.
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"But.. did he? um.." questioned the Captain.
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Between laughs Mr Jordan shook her head, and pulled out a key that dangled
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from a string around her neck.
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The Captain smiled, the anti-Doc chastity belt had saved her sister yet again.
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[Where do they sell them ? Someone could become a billionaire!-Ed.]
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I looked at Avalon, and he looked back at me, and sighed. Its a strange world.
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[But it needs EVERYONE. -Ed.]
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--------
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The terrain changed again, we were now crossing a barren desert. Sand hills,
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sand, sand hills, and sand again.
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A black streak of smoke transversed the horizon, followed by an echo of
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thunder. A projectile had crashed in the distance. We approached.
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And there - half buried in the silicon dioxide - was a black star-ship,
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its engines rising out of the plain, the nose buried deep into the sand.
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Smoke billowed from the turbines.
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A panel in the ship's exterior collapsed, and out stumbled two bedraggled
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uniformed figures. One was tall, the other wore thick glasses. The odd couple
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approached, their grey uniforms shedding layers of smoke and dust with
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each step. The tall one scratched his head, the shorter one pushed his
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glasses back onto his nose, sniffed, and stared up at us.
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Avalon, Bruce and I were motionless, The Captain fidgeted while his sister
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backed up behind us.
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"Damn Cabal..", said the tall one, breaking the ice.
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"Yeah.. damn Cabal!", added the shorter one.
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I turned to Avalon. "Cabal?"
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"Cabal", began Avalon, "a race of warrior beings, that roam the galaxy
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in search of people to kill, causing havoc, depradation, suffering,
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and generally act the arsehole. Feared most by the legendary Traders,
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an equally mindlessly violent race of people, who would kill anybody
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or anything for credits, fighters and egoes."
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[So this is how modern day men fight over women ?-Ed.]
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I turned back to the odd couple. "You - Traders ?"
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The tall one replied first, "Yeah, we're Traders! Top of the high score
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table in every good galaxy this side of Sol!"
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"Yeah, we're always on top!", added the shorter one.
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"Let me introduce ourselves", began the taller one. "I am Garet Jax,
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Trade Wars Hero Extraordinaire, and this here is my partner, Quantum Leap.
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We were just cruising in to pickup 100 ore in sector 69 when these
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Cabal - 500 off them - came from nowhere and took us by suprise. Luckily
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we were able to escape with our lives by catching a warp to this dead end
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sector and locate a planet."
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Bruce noted the state of the ship, and commented "And I guess you learnt
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to pilot a star-ship at the same place Doc learnt to drive huh?"
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"That", answered Garet, "was not our fault."
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"Why, what happened?", I asked.
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Quantum explained "We were momentarily distracted when a picture of
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Yahoo Serious, naked, appeared on our monitors. By the time we had
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finished it was too late - we crashed. We did make a recording of it though
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but its on BETA."
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Just then, a great booming voice echoed around us... "Hi, its your friendly
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sysop here, just fiddling with the Trade Wars Editor, making sure I'm
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still No.1"
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Instantaneously, the ship, Garet and Quantum, disappeared.
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----------
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Back into the forest, the track is flanked by granite boulders. We stop,
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there is a noise ahead, something foriegn and unnatural to our ears. Wally
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decides to take lead, and we move further into the valley, towards this
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strange sound.
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Closer we get, and soon we can recognize the sound as music - singing - a
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female voice singing. It is a catchy tune, and soon we are all singing the
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song.. singing and dancing.. singing these words...
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"Those bedroom eyes.. those bedroom eyes..."
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We soon find where the music is coming from - a cave in the rock. This cave
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has a rather strange opening, almost as if the boudlers on either side were
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outstretched legs, the pebbles at the end the toes on the feet. And the
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entrance of the cave balanced by several scrubby trees.
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[I prefer it when its all flesh and human size.-Ed.]
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"Oh no!" cried Avalon. "Its the dreaded cave of the Evil Goddess Of Seduction,
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Yahoo Serious!"
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However, the music is too loud, we cannot hear Avalon's cries, and we continue
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to dance to the music, nearing the cave like it was a magnet.
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"I can't resist you.... no matter how I try"
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"Stop! Stop!" screamed Avalon.. "Don't listen to the music! Cover your ears!"
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"If you enter that cave you'll be lost forever... "
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The noise was getting louder, the ground was shaking.. the boulders on either
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side trembling. Fearing the lives of the others, bravely Avalon rushed ahead of
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us, and pushed us all to the ground, screaming at us to cover our ears. We were
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saved. But as we crawled back away from the cave, covering our ears from the
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noise, I turned and realised Wally was not with us.
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I cried out for him.. "Wally! Come back! Wally!!!", but alas he was too far
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into the cave to hear me. Avalon had a brain wave, and broke into his
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backpack, bringing out his trusty walkman. Slipping in a damn good tape of
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Transvision Vamp, he placed the headphones on me and turned the volume up loud.
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I understood immediately what I had to do, and ran into the cave to save Wally.
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The rock passage soon opened into a giant ante-chamber, and down below I could
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see Wally, walking with hands out-stretched like a zombie. And there, in front
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of Wally, was a figure not entirely unlike The Goddess Of Seduction, the
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legendary Yahoo Serious. She was naked, and making motions with her out-
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stretched hands towards Wally. [Could anyone resist her ?-Ed.]
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"Stop! Wally! Stop!" I cried, "Don't look at her tits. What ever you do, don't
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look at her tits!"
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But it was too late, and Wally was now on his knees, begging at the Goddess.
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Ugh, it was a terrible sight, and I dared not look, but being the glutton that
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I am, I did, and regretted seeing the last dying moments of my beloved
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companion Wally to a fate worse than death - seeing Yahoo's tits and not being
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able to fondle them.
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As soon as the last dying smoulders of Wally disintegrated, the Goddess turned
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towards me, and smiled a seductive smile. Fearing the same fate as Wally, I
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covered my eyes and turned to leave. But, alas, the tape finished, and Wendy
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James stopped orgasming.
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"Shit!", I swore, and quickly pressed the eject button, swapped the tape
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around, and stuck it back in again. Depressing play, I waited for the next
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song, hoping I could sustain the brief moments under the influence of the
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hypnotic music around me. I prayed to every divine being but myself that Avalon
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had better musical taste than to put Kate Cebrano on backside to Transvision
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Vamp. The song began, it was Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. I sighed in relief, and
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ran out of the cave, thankful to be alive.
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As soon as we had passed through the Valley of Seduction, I told of the sad
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fate of Wally.
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---------
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The path we were following again left the scrub, and we were out in the open,
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steadily rising into some barren, exposed mountain ranges. We paused at the
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approach to a steep hill, and the Captain pointed out to us that a building of
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some description resided on this mountain. Dark clouds loomed overhead, thunder
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echoed in the distance, and howling wind developed as we made our way up the
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mountain side. A light rain began to fall.
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The track circled around the moutain, deteriorating into a rock scrabble.
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There was little vegetation, and often scree slipped from under our feet. And
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there - before us - an enormous monument to the gods - a building of gold on
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the mountain top, encircled by a dark thunder-storm sky.
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"The Golden Temple of Channadrac!", exclaimed Avalon, as we scrabbled up over
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the rocks.
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The entrance to the temple was flanked by pillars of intricate carvings draped
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with vines and epiphytes. I paused to examine the carvings, one of them
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depicted a schematic diagram of an Apple IIe with the latest sideways parrallel
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processing CPU/FPU digital analog converter.
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We faced a giant stone door.
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"The tomb of the Cefiar.", noted Avalon. "Beyond here no man has ever returned
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alive!"
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"Right", I replied, "No man has ever returned. But what about a woman, huh?"
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"but but..", stammered Mr Jordan.
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"No buts..", I insisted. "Anyway, you get lung cancer if you do."
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Mr Jordan approached the stone door, and pushed it open. A foul racid smell of
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kerosine emptied itself into the room. Mr Jordan trembled, and looked back at
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her brother for support. Gathering all the courage she could muster, Mr J
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stepped into the darkness.
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The door closed behind her.
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"She's good as dead..", said Avalon, in his own classicly optimistic way.
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|
|
|
We sat down on the cold stone floor, and waited. The Captain started an
|
|
argument with Avalon about Amiga pirating, Bruce studied the intricate
|
|
carvings on the walls, and I slid into a corner, and thought about Yahoo
|
|
in Klate's spa. [No wonder you were blind-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
------
|
|
|
|
It was dark inside the tomb, but a faint light in the distance gave something
|
|
for Mr J to focus on. As she neared the light, she heard a soft electronic hum.
|
|
It was difficult navigating to the light, whichever path she choose seemed to
|
|
end up in a dead end of computer magazines, broken electronic appliances, or
|
|
other junk.
|
|
|
|
Under the light, Mr Jordan studied the setup. In one corner stood a computer,
|
|
and surrounding it was several modems, two monitor and a keyboard. Intrigued,
|
|
Mr J switched on the monitor. Why - it was the Hard Rock Cafe!
|
|
|
|
The temptation to logon was immense, but a quick scan of the users online
|
|
- Doomlord, Byte Image, Shadow & Keneniah - was enough to change her mind.
|
|
|
|
Dutiously, she unplugged the golden Netcomm M5, and tucked it under her arm.
|
|
Glancing at the row of DataCrafts, Mr J thought to herself, then reached
|
|
towards them, and logged each one off systematically.
|
|
|
|
------
|
|
|
|
After almost an eternity, the giant stone doors of the tomb swung open, and out
|
|
stepped a relieved Mr Jordan, grasping the golden Netcomm. Bruce appeared from
|
|
his wanderings, munching on some stale nutri grain, and we rose to leave.
|
|
|
|
"NOT SO FAST!", came a deep voice from behind us.
|
|
|
|
Mr Jordan screamed. I turned, and saw a figure emerging from behind the stone
|
|
doors.
|
|
|
|
"Its the Cefiar!", cried Avalon. "Run for your lives!!!!"
|
|
|
|
And we did.
|
|
|
|
Mr Jordan was first out of the temple, followed by the footloose Bruce Wayne.
|
|
Avalon was next, and I was close behind. There was no sign of The Captain.
|
|
|
|
We waited, but he did not appear.
|
|
|
|
"I'm going in...", I offered, in a heroic kind of way.
|
|
|
|
"Your life, not mine..", comforted Avalon, as I entered the temple once again.
|
|
|
|
--------
|
|
|
|
For the second time I cautiously made my way into the temple. Soon I found
|
|
The Captain, sprawled out on the floor in a pool of blood. I leant by the body,
|
|
and noticed a large arrow protuding from the back. He was still alive, and
|
|
trying to speak.
|
|
|
|
"Doc.. Doc.." he whispered, wincing in pain. "Doc.. ta..take care of ..
|
|
..my...my..sis" [We're sure he'll do an 'excellent' job of that.-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
The Captain died. I paused in requiem, then noticed there was an object in his
|
|
hand. It was a key.
|
|
|
|
A shadow fell over body, I turned and saw the Cefiar standing no more than
|
|
a few metres away, aiming his cross-bow at me.
|
|
|
|
Grabbing the key, I jumped over the body and out of the way of a the arrow
|
|
which scuttled harmlessly down the passage. Not wishing to stop for a chat
|
|
about 'puters, I fled out of the temple like an Ethiopian with a MacDonalds
|
|
voucher.
|
|
|
|
--------
|
|
|
|
A feeling of victory accompanied the final few steps out of the Channadrac
|
|
forest. The golden Netcomm M5 in our possession, we had become heroes.
|
|
|
|
Across the highway sat the Docmobile - two tonne of pure Volvo. But there
|
|
was another car beside it, a purple Holden panel-van, with a short male wearing
|
|
Bolles leaning against it.
|
|
|
|
"Ah there is the modem you borrowed from me so many years ago!", said
|
|
Night Stalker, releasing the Netcomm from Mr Jordan's arms.
|
|
|
|
"Gee thanks Doc.. I knew you'd return it one day!" With a swirl of dust the
|
|
panel-van roared out of sight down the highway.
|
|
[And he didn't make a pass at her!-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
"Come on Av." I sighed, opening the door to the Volvo, "Can't win 'em all..".
|
|
Dejected, Avalon stepped in the car, together with Mr Jordan and Bruce.
|
|
|
|
"Wait till Rat Six. I heard its featuring a lot on Yahoo."
|
|
|
|
"Oh goodie.." replied Avalon. "I like a story with nice proportions.."
|
|
|
|
Da Endth.
|
|
|
|
Epilooog
|
|
|
|
Suprisingly, Australian Personal Computer Magazine refused to print our story.
|
|
Our only real recognition came when I posted our story up in the World War III
|
|
mesg area of the xover, along with all the other Dune Messiah bullshit. Then
|
|
again, people will believe anything written there.
|
|
|
|
Doc '89
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
A P H E L I A ' S I N ' S A N D O U T ' S
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Well hello ppls its your favorite gossip columnist Aphelia Bottom back to tell
|
|
you what you should be into. But before I start I would like to dispell any
|
|
rumours that I am a sexual pervert. This is true.
|
|
|
|
Paedophila is being challenged for No.1 rating as the most popular form of
|
|
sexual perversion to an even more kinkier form of entertainment - baby sex.
|
|
|
|
But enough of my private life, this is my summary of the Month Of September:
|
|
|
|
Bruce Wayne stars in Eistedfodd, Yarra Valley runners up to the faggots from
|
|
Hailebury.
|
|
|
|
Avalon says something nice about Janine for the first time.
|
|
[Wonders never cease to happen-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
General Discomfort's team wins the Tradewars Teamwork Competition, and at
|
|
present the General is in hospital (3.10pm, Channel 9, weekdays) having surgery
|
|
to his cranuium to allow for his head to achieve a new world record size.
|
|
|
|
Stuart Gill is charged in court for his actions in misinforming police and
|
|
general misrepresentation. May he rot in hell.
|
|
|
|
Catchyas next month...
|
|
Aphelia .
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me!"
|
|
|
|
- Hot Water, Talk Channel BBS.
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
__________________________________________________
|
|
/ \ \
|
|
\__| Capitol Cinemas proudly present |
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
|
| Yahoo Serious |
|
|
| |
|
|
| in |
|
|
| |
|
|
| TOO MUCH TOO SOON III |
|
|
| |
|
|
| kinkier than Masky in a pet store |
|
|
| more orgasms than a cocktail bar |
|
|
| rated XXXX for the credits alone |
|
|
| |
|
|
__| |
|
|
/ | another fine DocFilms Inc. production |
|
|
\_/________________________________________________/
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
I I
|
|
I RAT Top 8 at 8 Singles Chart Dedications I
|
|
I_____________________________________________________________________________I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [8] "My Obsession" (IceHouse) Doc I
|
|
I (...is Yahoo Serious' Tits) (and numerous others) I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [7] "Are You Old Enough?" (Dragon) Mr Jordan. I
|
|
I ( 7 today! ) I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [6] "Pain Is So Close To Pleasure" (Queen) The Masked Avenger. I
|
|
I I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [5] "The Mess" (1927) Cefiar Channadrac. I
|
|
I ( Clean ya room! ) I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [4] "Juke Box Hero" (Foreigner) Bruce Wayne. I
|
|
I ( for Eistedfodd ) I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [3] "Sitting On The Dock Of The Bay" BigF00T. I
|
|
I ( 8 months on the dole! ) I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [2] "Bohemian Rhapsody" (Queen) Avalon .. I
|
|
I ( nothing really matters...) I
|
|
I I
|
|
I [1] "Die Young, Stay Pretty" (Blondie) Yahoo Serious. I
|
|
I ( Died Eve of her 19th Birthday..) I
|
|
I_____________________________________________________________________________I
|
|
I I
|
|
I All these singles may be purchased at The Virgin Megastore. I
|
|
I (And no Masky, TVM isn't a new kind of Kindergarten) I
|
|
I_____________________________________________________________________________I
|
|
|
|
____ _____
|
|
( / \ ) / /
|
|
/ / ____ ____ /____ ____ ____ ___ ____ ___ /
|
|
/ / / / / / \ / / / / / /___ /___/ / /
|
|
/_____/ /___/ /___ /_____ / \ /___/ /___/ ____/ /___ /___/
|
|
/
|
|
/
|
|
|
|
by Mr Jordan and friends...
|
|
|
|
chief editor : Doc
|
|
assistant editor : Avalon ..
|
|
|
|
[Editors comment: Introducing our latest addition to the Dead Rat Society,
|
|
a relatively new face on the boards; a sweet innocent looking girl who,
|
|
when not off to another hippy party can be found molesting poor victimised
|
|
RAT authors on The Cafe.]
|
|
|
|
Once upon a time there was a boy named Doc. He lived in Queensland with
|
|
his gay paedophile uncle because he was an orphan because his parents were
|
|
killed by a pyromaniac murderer who cut them up into tiny bits with a chainsaw
|
|
before pouring petrol all over their house and lighting a match.
|
|
|
|
[Dune Messiah???? -Ed]
|
|
|
|
Doc and Uncle Masky lived in a house on the top of a lonely hill in a
|
|
small country town called Nirvana, with only a goat, a chicken and a small pony
|
|
to keep them company.
|
|
|
|
As Doc grew up he learnt many things off his uncle to do with
|
|
paedophillia, bondage and the goat, the chicken and the small pony in the back
|
|
yard.
|
|
|
|
[hey you think chicken feathers are kinky, you oughta try fucking the
|
|
chicken! -Ed]
|
|
|
|
At around the age of 17, when doc was finally starting puberty, he began
|
|
to wonder what was out there in the big bad world. So one night when all was
|
|
quiet he packed his bag, took the $2.37 (his lifetime savings) out of his money
|
|
box and left his Uncle Maskey with only a note to tell him where he'd gone.
|
|
|
|
[I'm not poor.... its just that I'm going through a 'personal recession'.-Ed]
|
|
|
|
As soon as Doc arrived in the nearest town he realised that his money
|
|
would not get him very far.
|
|
|
|
"Taxi!!!" he quietly yelled in his un-broken, boyish voice. But he
|
|
didn't have a hope of being heard, the only reason the taxi driver stopped was
|
|
so he wouldn't run over Doc's gangly arms that he was waving about blocking the
|
|
entire left lane on the road.
|
|
|
|
[All the better to strangle you with, my dear-Ed]
|
|
|
|
SCRRRRREEEEEEECCCHHHHH!!!! The huge yellow V8 Monaro taxi pulled up to
|
|
curb knocking over some garbage bins on the way. Immediately the driver jumped
|
|
out screaming "MY DUCO!!! LOOK THERE'S A SCRATCH IN MY DUCO!!! SHIT IF YOU
|
|
HADN'T MADE ME PULL OVER THIS WOULD NEVER OF HAPPENED!!! YOU'RE GONNA PAY
|
|
LITTLE BOY!!! I'M GONNA CHARGE YOU DOUBLE FOR THIS RIDE!!!"
|
|
|
|
[I thought it was you who had to pay for those sort of things Ivan.. -Ed]
|
|
|
|
"Oh dear," thought doc to himself, "He does seem rather angry, oh but
|
|
it's not my fault i didn't know my arms were so long and gangly."
|
|
|
|
[All the better to reach up Masky's Arse -Ass.Ed]
|
|
|
|
Doc rode a dangerous journey in the taxi all the way to Melbourne, but
|
|
when he got there he was in for quite a shock.
|
|
|
|
[How many round-abouts are there between here and Queensland? -Ed]
|
|
|
|
"Right Kid that'll be $143 dollars." sneered Ivan the taxi driver.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry sir but I've only got $2.37, will that do?" asked Doc fearfully.
|
|
[Remember: "American Express-Don't leave home without someone else's"-Ass.Ed]
|
|
|
|
"PISS OFF KID!!! WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS??? LISTEN MATE YOUR GONNA
|
|
PAY AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!!!" and with that he VRRROOOOOOMMMMMed off mumbling
|
|
to himself "Shit I gotta get to Cef's. I just gotta log someone off." And off
|
|
he went to do just that.
|
|
|
|
Doc slowly walked through the streets of Melbourne with no money (the
|
|
$2.37 he did have was dropped down a drain when Ivan the taxi driver smashed
|
|
Doc's head against the brick wall) and only wearing the lace nighty his uncle
|
|
had given him for his birthday last year.
|
|
|
|
Just then a dole-bludging bum, wearing ug boots, walked up to him and
|
|
begged, "Spare a penny for the the poor."
|
|
|
|
Doc felt sorry for the bum and asked, "What's your name old man???"
|
|
|
|
"BigF00T.", answered the bum, "I'd better be going now. Got to go pick
|
|
up some dole cheques." and off he walked into the sunset singing "I'm a
|
|
dole-bludger and I'm okay, I sleep all night and I bludge all day..."
|
|
|
|
"Oh I wish I had a friend." sighed Doc. Just then a man in a blue
|
|
uniform came walking round the corner whistling the theme to Top Gun.
|
|
|
|
"Can I help you there sonny???" asked the police officer.
|
|
|
|
"Oh yes please sir. You see I don't have any friends, will you be my
|
|
friend????" asked Doc hopefully.
|
|
|
|
"Who me?? questioned the constable, who's one mission in life was to
|
|
protect the innocent, keep crime off the streets, never get drunk, find a woman
|
|
who liked him and who has extremely large tits, and to generally depress all
|
|
other bbs users.
|
|
|
|
" Why of course I'll be your friend."
|
|
|
|
And with that they walked off hand in hand discussing the latest range
|
|
in studded leather bondage suits with matching whips.
|
|
|
|
That night when Doc went to bed at the constable's house, after
|
|
they'd stayed up very late (10:30) watching the latest in gay bondage pornos,
|
|
Doc had a terrible nightmare about one of the films he had seen that night
|
|
called "Nightmare On Elm St. IV". He was being chased by the dreaded "Freddy
|
|
Iceman" who's blades on his Freddy glove (custom made by Infiltrator) were
|
|
sharper than ever and he was trying to stab Doc with them but kept missing
|
|
because there wasn't much there to stab. Just then to protect himself Doc
|
|
grabbed a knife and started stabbing Freddy Iceman till he was nothing but a
|
|
pile of blood and guts. Doc woke with a start to find that he had stabbed his
|
|
new friend to death with a bread and butter knife during his sleep.
|
|
|
|
[I always wondered what went on in the mind of a 14 yr old girl....
|
|
...now I wish I had never wondered. -Ed]
|
|
|
|
Doc left his friend's house crying. He walked for miles and
|
|
miles howling mournfully till he stumbled onto the doorstep of the X family's
|
|
residence. He weakly knocked on the door and it was opened by a woman with a
|
|
strong dutch accent, "Oh you poor thing," she said to Doc "look at ye yer all
|
|
covered in blood.Oh my dear boy you must come in and we'll get you cleaned up."
|
|
|
|
[Oh but my mother would never do a thing like that..-Ed]
|
|
|
|
Mrs. X cleaned Doc up and after a hearty stew she showed him to
|
|
his room ... it was like an attic, full of old computers, and as he began to
|
|
explore he discovered an old 300bd modem. "Now if I plug this into here... and
|
|
this here .. and i turn this switch on here ... and I type this ... "ATD8942815
|
|
" I wonder what would happen ...
|
|
|
|
Welcome to the Hard Rock Cafe!
|
|
|
|
... WOW he'd connected to one of the raddest buliten boards known to man
|
|
(now can I have higher access???- MJ) and as soon as he had filled out
|
|
his questionairre and had reached the main menu he said ... "Now I wonder what
|
|
would happen if i typed C ... then R ???
|
|
|
|
There are 4 other callers in this conference.
|
|
|
|
... WOW hey whats this??? ...
|
|
|
|
(1:THE MASKED AVENGER) HEY YOU FUCKHEAD WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING HERE ON
|
|
THIS CRAP SHIT BOARD? ONLY LOOSERS CALL HERE THAT'S WHY I CALL ALL THE TIME!!!
|
|
(4:SPECTOR) Hello DOC What computer you got??? got an amiga??? wanna pirate??
|
|
(0:SYSOP) Hello Doc
|
|
(2:PHSYCOSONIC CINDY) G'day Doc
|
|
(5:IVAN TROTSKY) Hi Ho! HEY!! Your the little kid who scratched my car!!! right
|
|
you die!!!
|
|
|
|
NO CARRIER
|
|
|
|
... So now you see this was Doc's very first bbsing experience and it
|
|
was just that one shot that got him addicted ... it's a sad story ... but it's
|
|
a well known fact that Doc still lurks around on boards, harrasing 12 yr olds,
|
|
[you said you were 14?? -Ed] trying out his new bondage gear on anyone and
|
|
everyone, being logged off by Ivan Trotsky, inviting people into his Volvo
|
|
for a spin round the block (and into a telephone pole) and doing other normal
|
|
bbs user kinda things.
|
|
|
|
[hey it was the telephone pole's fault for being in the middle of the road-Ed]
|
|
|
|
DOC ...
|
|
More depressing than Byte Image and Doomlord rolled into one!
|
|
More perverted than Animal Farm!
|
|
More Gangly than a member of the Globe Trotters!
|
|
More bumfluff on the top lip than a 15yr old who hasn't started shaving
|
|
yet!
|
|
|
|
THE END!
|
|
|
|
[I love you too MJ. -Ed]
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Little Girl Appreciation Society
|
|
|
|
proudly present
|
|
|
|
the amazing adventures of..
|
|
|
|
P E T E R T H E P A E D O P H I L I C P O S T M A N
|
|
=============================================================
|
|
|
|
One day when Peter the Paedophilic Postman was promenading the pathway,
|
|
he paused and peered at a pretty little girl sitting on a gate post.
|
|
"Hi, pretty little Princess", said Peter, "how would you like to poke your
|
|
pointy nose into my parcel-carrier here and peer at my parcels?"
|
|
|
|
The pretty little girl, whose name was Polly Paddon, innocent of the
|
|
perilous position she was in, was curious to peer into Peter's parcel-carrier,
|
|
and so she placed her pointy toes on the pavement, and leaned over and
|
|
positioned herself to peer into the parcels. A particularly evil smile
|
|
appeared on Peter's face, as he proceeded to push little Polly into the
|
|
parcel-container and pulled the zip up tight.
|
|
|
|
Later that day, Peter the Paedophilic Postman returned to his private
|
|
appartment, placed the parcel-carrier on the bench, unzipped the bag and
|
|
out popped Polly. Immediately Peter grasped Polly and prodded her
|
|
pelvic region. Polly prepared to scream but Peter pounced on her and
|
|
patched her up with a peice of packing-tape. He then undid Polly's
|
|
pin-striped pantaloons and perused her pubescent proportions.
|
|
|
|
Peter the Paedophile was now ready for penetration. He popped out his
|
|
pulsating purple penis, procrastinated on which penetration was first,
|
|
then proceeded to penetrate Polly's pelvic region. Peter popped in and
|
|
out, panting with every pelvic thrust. Soon Polly cracked and Peter's
|
|
plaything was prematurely made redundant. Peter was pissed off, but
|
|
persisted with the broken Polly until she passed away. Peter then tossed
|
|
the limp Polly onto a pile of past playthings, proceeded to the
|
|
pink fridge and pulled out a Popsicle to suck on.
|
|
|
|
And now your probably wondering what sort of pervert would write
|
|
such a pitiful piece of propaganda. Possibly he is already behind
|
|
bars in Pentridge, or perhaps he is still out there, passing
|
|
by your daughter's school playground, picking her up in his Pintara...
|
|
|
|
Pete.
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
_______ _ _ _______ _________ _______ _ _ __ __
|
|
|#######| |#\ |#| |#######| |#########| |#######| |#\ /#| \#\ /#/
|
|
|#| |#| |##\ |#| |#| |#| |#| |#| |#| |##\ /##| \#\_/#/
|
|
|#|___|#| |###\ |#| |#|___|#| |#| |#| |#| |###\/###| \###/
|
|
|#######| |#|\#\|#| |#######| |#| |#| |#| |#|\##/|#| |#|
|
|
|#| |#| |#| \#\#| |#| |#| |#| |#|___|#| |#| \/ |#| |#|
|
|
|#| |#| |#| \##| |#| |#| |#| |#######| |#| |#| |#|
|
|
|
|
_______ _ _______ _________ ________
|
|
|######## |#| |#######| |#########| |########|
|
|
|#| |#| |#| |#| |#|_______ |#|_______
|
|
|#| |#| |#|___|#| |#########| |########|
|
|
|#| |#| |#######| |#| |#|
|
|
|#|_____ |#|_____ |#| |#| _______|#| ______|#|
|
|
|#######| |#######| |#| |#| |#########| |########|
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Biology of a Pooter Freak. (computerus addictius)
|
|
|
|
grotty, unkept, __ ears well developed for listening
|
|
unwashed hair ------\/ | for carriers but also for ignoring
|
|
_&&&&&&_ | parental requests to get off the
|
|
general head swollen by / _ _ \ | 'puter
|
|
boasts about hacking ] o o [ <----------- red eyes from
|
|
\_ . < .' _/ looking at a
|
|
mouth almost ------> \__==_./ <------\ monitor for too
|
|
totally seized _____||______ | long
|
|
up, all talk / __ __ \ |
|
|
conducted over a | | &|. .|& | | zits. from eating pizza
|
|
modem or not at all | |/ | | | | at 3am during hacking or
|
|
"" | | | ""\ programming marathons
|
|
_________/ | | \
|
|
grotty armpits. | | <-\ \______ "hammer" fingers from
|
|
washing is considered | . | \ constant typing
|
|
a waste of time, the | | \
|
|
time considered better / \ \______ note the obvious poor
|
|
spent programming /--> /U\ | health. reduced to
|
|
/ | | | | "gangle" status by
|
|
Gods Greatest Gift _/ | | | | a diet of pizza and
|
|
To Mankind. hardly | _| | | |_ absolutely no exercise
|
|
ever used. | /___| |___\ (apart from the walk from
|
|
| 'puter to fridge and
|
|
one foot (12")__| /|\ /|\ back again)
|
|
| |
|
|
another foot________| |______ yet another foot
|
|
|
|
specimens : Too Many
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Biology of a Sysop. (systemus operatus)
|
|
|
|
brain. for decifering \
|
|
net-mail manuals \| ______
|
|
~~' /////\\\ <--- latest "slick" haircut
|
|
| o o |
|
|
\ /_ /
|
|
quizical mouth ------> ____\__/____ "shrug" shoulders to
|
|
for acting the / \ <---- emphasise that image of
|
|
innocent when | | "such is life", an admirable
|
|
confronted with | | . . | | philosophy that every good
|
|
questions like | | | | lazy uncommitted sysop
|
|
'why has the d/l | | | | should have.
|
|
directory been | |______| | ___
|
|
missing for the \_| |_/ something ---> / __
|
|
last month???' | ?? | else every / /
|
|
| || | good sysop /_/
|
|
"lead" feet for | || | should have _/ |
|
|
driving with -------> _|__||__|_ (but only <__/||
|
|
<____||____> some sysops
|
|
can get)
|
|
specimen : Night Stalker Janine -->
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Biology Of The "Younger, Enthusiatic With Life" Bulletin Board User.
|
|
|
|
____
|
|
%%%%_ -------- /// o\
|
|
---- %%% o ) /// _> H E L P !
|
|
%%% > 'i only ///_ __/
|
|
%% ,/ wanna chat' ---- /// | |_________
|
|
---- | |_______ | ,=======~
|
|
| _/----- | __}
|
|
| | -------- | |
|
|
---- | | / |
|
|
( |==> 'so do i' (_ |
|
|
---- / @\ ------- / \
|
|
/ \ /____/ \
|
|
|__/ / /
|
|
/_ /_
|
|
|
|
desperatus malus fridigus femalus real hunkus ->
|
|
|
|
specimens : [withheld!]
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
10 Reasons To Be A Paedophile
|
|
---------------------------------
|
|
|
|
* there are lots and lots of little girls, but not many paedophiles
|
|
* they can't get pregnant
|
|
* they don't think its morally wrong
|
|
* they have short memories
|
|
* they are honoured if you come prematurely
|
|
* lollies are cheaper than night-clubs
|
|
* they have lots of little friends
|
|
* when you pick them up from school you can perve at all the other little
|
|
girls in their uniform dresses
|
|
* they don't know how to convert inches to centimetres
|
|
|
|
10 Reasons NOT To Be A Paedophile
|
|
-------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
* its illegal
|
|
* its immoral
|
|
* you could injure them
|
|
* you can only break them once
|
|
* interfering social workers
|
|
* mommie
|
|
* daddie
|
|
* daddie's shot-gun
|
|
* a friend might call "Dob In A Paedophile"
|
|
* sometimes messy
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
S E P T E M B E R A W A R D S
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
"I'm a pop star!" Award............................................Bruce Wayne
|
|
|
|
"Don't Hassle Me" Award..............................................Mr Jordan
|
|
|
|
"I'm 'NOT' Having A Sexual Relationship With My Computer" Award...Dune Messiah
|
|
[Remember, AMIGA is Mexican for Girlfriend.-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
Bottle Blonde Of The Month.........................................Wendy James
|
|
[I don't want your money honey... I just want your body! - Ed]
|
|
|
|
Soppy Message Of The Month.......................................Yahoo Serious
|
|
|
|
Wally Of The Month......................................................Benny!
|
|
|
|
Egotripper Of The Month.....................................General Discomfort
|
|
[Sorry Yahoo and Batman. You'll have to do better!-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
Loozer Of The Month..............................................Eric Anderson
|
|
|
|
Faggots Of The Month...........................Anything that goes to Hailebury
|
|
|
|
"How much for your daughter??" Award................................Mr Lambert
|
|
[Why not kidnap her Doc? - Ed.]
|
|
|
|
Cheap Aftershave of the Month....................................Doc's Brother
|
|
|
|
Pig Of The Month.................................................Doc's Brother
|
|
[1/2 pizza, 1 pckt CCs, 2 litres of Coke, 1 Vic Bitter (mine!) in 10 mins! -Ed]
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
C R E D I T S
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Rebel Anarchistic Tendencies Is..
|
|
------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Avalon .. [editor]
|
|
Doc [founder]
|
|
|
|
and introducing..
|
|
|
|
Mr Jordan [authoress]
|
|
|
|
also with..
|
|
|
|
Yahoo Serious (Brigitte) [& Jaymes!]
|
|
Wally (Lachlan)
|
|
Bruce Wayne (sysop, Chicago)
|
|
General Discomfort
|
|
Cefiar Channadrac (sysop, The Cafe)
|
|
Quantum Leap (Matty)
|
|
Dragon Ruler
|
|
Garet Jax (Harro)
|
|
Page Gap (Docess)
|
|
Dave Seikel
|
|
Dr Who
|
|
Janine & Night Stalker [1 year and going strong.-Ed.]
|
|
Lash Clone
|
|
Crystal
|
|
Captain Blood
|
|
Kate Cebrano [Both of them - Ed.]
|
|
Da Girl On Da Milka Ad..
|
|
Sheila On "Whose the Boss?"
|
|
Russ's Girlfriend
|
|
Wendy James
|
|
|
|
Cadet Authors Welcome
|
|
-------------------------
|
|
|
|
Send your work and all of your qualifications (inc. sex, age, bra size, etc)
|
|
in EMAIL to the following address:
|
|
|
|
Avalon ..
|
|
c/o The CrossOver
|
|
(+61-3) 364-1282
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
C A L L T H E S E B O A R D S
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
(+61-3) Melbourne, Australia
|
|
|
|
The CrossOver...................364-1282 [note the new number!]
|
|
Chicago.........................728-6698 [1200 & 2400 CCITT, 300 Bell]
|
|
|
|
also
|
|
|
|
The Burning Crucifix............562-0938 [SPACEs & RETURN at carrier]
|
|
The Twilite Zone................878-3539 [Back Up!!]
|
|
The Hard Rock Cafe..............894-2815 [4 lines with chat]
|
|
The Mad House...................758-9573 [now in EGOnet]
|
|
|
|
and for all those that don't already know..
|
|
|
|
My board has been down for six months! And if anybody rings at 3am again
|
|
asking for it, I will personally rip up the telephone line all the way to
|
|
their house and shove the handset in the first orifice I lay eyes onto.
|
|
- Doc (NOT running a board)
|
|
[Lets hope it's Yahoo! -Ed.]
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
T H A N K S T O :
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Night Stalker, for the loan of his Netcomm modem for almost a year! Dood!
|
|
[And sysop of the greatest BBS still!-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
On behalf of Bruce Wayne - thanks to all the people who helped him get
|
|
his new board up. Its going great now (minus one modemless comrade).
|
|
[And so are the ANSI screens!-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
Yahoo Serious for all your peanut butter sandwiches.
|
|
|
|
Everyone who supports this monthly phile with suggestions, comments and ideas.
|
|
[ME! Tnx.-Ed.]
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
D I S C L A I M E R
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
This is not meant to be an insultive phile. Its pure purpose is to offer
|
|
a phun, enjoyable text phile for the users of the above mentioned boards.
|
|
|
|
As they say in the classics...
|
|
|
|
"However, if you are still offended, stiff shit."
|
|
|
|
[We feel quite proud of ourselves... 'Not a single mention of Jaymes!' -Ed]
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
RAT is now officially unofficiated with Anarchistic Tendencies.
|
|
All coincidences are now coincidental.
|
|
|
|
Although similarities exist between The Dead Rat Society and the Evil Angel
|
|
productions, there is no "link" between the two. Rat serves different boards,
|
|
with original script. The styles may be the same, but that is all. So shove
|
|
that up your arse, Mr Ice Man.
|
|
|
|
The Society itself is "just a bunch of friends", membership is informal.
|
|
This is probably because no one will want to admit to being a member when
|
|
the Police start making investigations in the New Year. I plan to be
|
|
fruit picking interstate during this period, and if your name has appeared
|
|
here, I suggest you also make plans to become Geographically Indecisive
|
|
for a while.
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
This is a message from the editor to any Police or any others who are looking
|
|
for evidence, etc to shut us down with :
|
|
|
|
In the immortal words of 'GOD', "BBSs are for fun and fantasy, anyone who takes
|
|
them seriously is mentally ill.", I don't quote him on that.
|
|
|
|
Avalon ..
|
|
Editor Of The Rat Philes
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
C O M I N G S O O N
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Star Truck
|
|
|
|
The Meaning To Life
|
|
|
|
The Untold Story Of Yahoo Serious..
|
|
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
The Dead Rat Society Lives
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|