1258 lines
52 KiB
Plaintext
1258 lines
52 KiB
Plaintext
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_ _ _ _ _ ___
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#############################################################
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########### A N A R C H I S T I C ###########
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############################################################
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############ T E N D E N C I E S ###########
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############################################################
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The Evil Angels Revised Fairly Tales.
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(Released 1-5-89)
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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=================
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W A R N I N G !
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=================
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The surgeon general has declared that reading
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this material may damage your sanity.
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***** Proceed with extreme caution. *****
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DO NOT EXPOSE TO OPEN FLAME. IT'LL BURN!
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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====================
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Ring these Boards!
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====================
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Zen 899-6180 All Speeds 5 Lines All Day
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(For sale $5,000 ONO)
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The Twilite Zone. 562-0686 300/300 1200/1200 24 hrs a day!
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Soon 2400 (Not 12/75)
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Doodz Domain. 646-5861 All Speeds 23 hrs a day!
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646-3171 (One line with Trailblazer)
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The Crossover. 367-5816 All Speeds 23 hrs a day!
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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+-------------------------------------+
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C R A C K U L A
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An Evil Angels Gothic Perversion Story.
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+-------------------------------------+
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by Ford Prefect.
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Deep within a forest a lone wolf howled. As if in response, a flash
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of lightning bathed the tops of the withered trees in a blue-white
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glare before the scene was once more plunged into a blanket of
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darkness. A pitted, unsealed road twisted its way through the dense
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growth. By and by, there is the crack of a whip, and gradually the
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low rumble of horses' hooves.
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The coachman cracked his whip again, further urging on the two horses
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pulling the black coach to it's treacherous destiny. The road took
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another turn, and began to head down into the valley, where the trees
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gave way to the faint lights of peasant dwellings. As the coach
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clattered onto the cobblestones at the outskirts of the village, the
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coachman pulled back on the reins and slowed the horses to a stop.
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After a moment, the coach door opened and Fearless Fred stepped out.
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"So this is Transvestylvania, is it? What a hole."
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"Shhhhh, Fred", said Ford Prefect as he also stepped out of the coach,
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looking nervously over his shoulder at the cloaked coachman. "It's
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always like this", he added softly.
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"You mean you've been to this dump before?", asked Fred in surprise.
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"Well, once. Briefly. It was a long time ago, and I travelled in from
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the opposite direction over the Bulgarian border. I've never come this
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way before."
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"No, neither have I", said Lensman as he stepped out of the coach
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tugging a rapidly deflating doll, "it must have been all those holes
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and cobblestones in the road."
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"Yeah, it was a bit rough", Fred agreed as he patted his pockets,
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"it's a pity Satan's Daughter wasn't riding with us, we could have
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had fresh butter within the first three miles..."
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Fred found what he had been looking for, and extracted a money pouch
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from his coat pocket. He hunted around for a gold sovereign and handed
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it to the coach driver who took it silently. Lensman struggled with the
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luggage with growing irritation at the rear of the coach. "Damn
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luggage clamps won't undo. They're harder than my shoe laces. Arghh!
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Help me Fred."
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Fred grimaced and joined Lensman at the rear of the coach and began
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pulling at the jammed clamps.
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Ford searched around in the bottom of his satchel and pulled out an
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incomplete tool kit. "You want a screwdriver?", he called.
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"Leave it out", said Raster, the coachman, speaking for the first time,
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"you've got me ten minutes late already. I was supposed to be making
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mad passionate love with Julie Alderman tonight, and if I'm not there
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in five minutes she'll be starting without me!"
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Lensman hauled the luggage off the rear of the coach, and the coach
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sped off into the night to the sound of a cracking whip.
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"So where to now?", asked Ford.
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"This way", said Fred eagerly as he hurried down a side street, "I can
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smell that O.H. functional group anywhere..."
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Sure enough, Fred led them to the Werewolf's Fang, the local inn. A
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pool of warm light spilled out of the open door into the street, and
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the sounds of music and laughter could be heard from within. As they
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stepped inside, a sudden hush fell over the room and the peasants all
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turned to stare. "Uh, hi guys", faltered Lensman with a nervous little
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half wave, "Ah... don't mind us... drink up..." He trailed off, and the
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three shuffled over to a remote corner of the bar.
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The peasants gradually resumed their conversations, though now in a
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subdued tone. A few crossed themselves. The Barman, Garden Gnome,
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finished wiping a few glasses, and approached them. "Yes?", he said in
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a deep, bored voice.
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Fred relaxed as he sat down on a barstool and rested his elbow on the
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wood-topped bar. "I'll have a double Anything-Alcoholic", said Fred,
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as a few peasants left the inn, crossing themselves.
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"Why do they keep making that sign?", Ford wondered aloud.
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"Protection", said a husky voice beside him. Ford turned around, and
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saw a hessian-clad peasant, Ivan Trotsky, sitting at a nearby table.
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"Pardon?"
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"They do it to ward off evil forces, demons..."
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"Oh", said Ford, "so it's the sign of the cross?"
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"No", replied Ivan, "actually it's the sign of the cross-your-heart
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bra. Everyone wears one here. It's for protection of the breasts
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against...." Ivan lowered his voice to a whisper, "... the Count!"
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"The Count!", exclaimed Fred, "but that's who we've come here to see.
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You do mean Count Masky von Crackula?"
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"Yes, the Devil Masky. Woe to all who tread the stones of the Castle
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Crackula. Why would you want to go THERE!?"
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"Well", said Lensman, "actually, we're real estate agents."
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"Errrrr!", said the entire bar populous.
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"All right, all right", said Lensman defensively, "I know it's not
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exactly a popular career, but the hours are good."
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"They're right, you know", said Disk Destroyer, the local estate agent
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as he climbed onto the bar-top, "and I have terrific powers of
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persuasion. Just watch me turn rape into rapture. Twenty sovereigns
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says I can finally get a girl tonight." Disk Destroyer abseiled down
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Fred's leg and plunged into a nearby forest of knees running towards
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the women. They could hear shouts above a drunk rendition of "Roll me
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over in the clover"...
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"Hey there, if I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it
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against me?"
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{Splash of drink being thrown}
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{Pause}
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"Hey there baby, want sex? {pause} OK then, want to lie down while I
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have some?"
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{Crunch of knee in groin}
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"Anyway", said Fred as he scooped up the twenty sovereigns, "we're here
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to sell the Count a house in London."
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"Just be careful!", hissed Ivan, "Masky isn't what he appears to be,
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he's a kinky vampire!"
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"He's what?", exclaimed Ford.
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"You heard. He flies around at night and finds a victim. He then
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mesmerizes them, bites their feet, and sucks their blood out through
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their toes!"
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--------------------------
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"I don't see why we couldn't have just stayed at the inn", complained
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Ford as they neared the towering front doors of Castle Crackula.
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"Stay there?", asked Fred, "no thanks. The innkeeper kept trying to
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feed me live yabbies. The waitress with the bamix wasn't bad though..."
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"There'll be no-one here at this hour", moaned Lensman.
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"Don't be so sure", said Fred, "listen..." They could faintly hear the
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sound of a pipe organ being played. Fred banged loudly on the doors,
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and shortly a tall, saturnine figure opened the door.
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"Sorry to have kept you waiting, but I've recently had to sack Renfield
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and I like playing with my organ.", apologised Masky.
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"Renfield?", echoed Fred.
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"My manservant. His habits were disgusting me. He was a zoophagous
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maniac."
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"A what?", asked Fred.
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"A MAN-SERVANT." Count Masky repeated slowly. "He used to serve the
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village men to me."
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"No, the zoo-thingie maniac." Fred said with a blank look on his face.
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"Oh, ZOOPHAGOUS MANIAC. He used to eat spiders and flies", explained
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Masky.
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"How did he get their little legs apart?", asked Lensman.
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Fred elbowed Lensman in the ribs, and they all went inside and gathered
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in the dining hall.
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--------------------------
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After they had settled around the table, with Masky on a commode, Fred
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unrolled several charts and blueprints. "This is the building we
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thought most suited you. It is, as you wanted, quite large and
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isolated", said Fred.
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"And you can arrange my transportation as I requested?" Masky queried.
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"Certainly, Ford here is a travel agent and will make all the
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arrangements."
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"Splendid." Count Masky responded. "We shall continue this discussion
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tomorrow evening. I hope you shall find your chambers comfortable.
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A meal will be served at midday. Natasha here will see you to your
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rooms. Good evening gentlemen."
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"I wonder if Natasha is his woman-servant." Fred said to Ford as they
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followed her to their rooms, making a note in his black book.
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--------------------------
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When the trio awoke in the afternoon, they found a hot meal waiting for
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them in the hallway outside. After eating, they made a short
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exploratory trip around the castle, but found most of it locked off.
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Fred worked on the title deeds for the house in England for a while,
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and then noticed Ford was missing. Lensman was on his bed and hadn't
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seem to have noticed, so Fred put down his quill and left the room to
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look for him. Fred eventually found Ford kneeling on the floor in one
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of the corridors, apparently making a detailed examination of the
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floor.
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Ford looked up, startled, as Fred approached. "Fred! Come over here
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and knock on the floor."
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Fred took an immediate step backwards. "What, with you?"
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"No, bang the floorboards."
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"Look Ford, that sort of pansexual perversion might turn you on, but
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if you think I'm about to-"
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"No! Listen to this." Ford rapped on a square floor panel with his
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knuckles. The sound echoed hollowly. "Did you hear that?", asked Ford,
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"I think there's a hidden compartment under this piece of floor."
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"Hey, you could be right... Yeah, it seems to be movable." Fred pried
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the panel out of place, and discovered a small hole under the
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passageway. In it lay a dusty book of vallum pages and leather
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bindings. Fred carefully lifted it out, and blew the dust off the
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cover.
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+---+ +---+
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| |-----------------------------------------------------| |
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| + | | + |
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+---+ T H E V A M P Y R +---+
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| A Lesson in Unnatural History. |
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+---+ by Jesse Ertits. +---+
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| + | | + |
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| |-----------------------------------------------------| |
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+---+ +---+
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Fred and Ford went back to the bedroom, where Fred began to read the
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book and Ford helped Lensman do The Times crossword. "No, no, no,
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Lenny, there's only three X's in pornography..."
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"Help me with this one, Ford. A four letter slang word for vagina."
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"Oh", said Ford, knotting his brow, "I know the word it should be...
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vagina... vagina... Damn, I can't remember it, but it's on the tip of
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my tongue..."
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"What's the book about, Fred?", asked Lenny after a while.
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"All about vampires", said Fred as he carefully turned another page and
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began absorbing the centuries-old print. "Did you know vampires can
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turn gaseous? I just thought Masky farted a lot. It says here what a
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vampire's weaknesses are and, ahh!, this next bit should be important,
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`how to kill a vampire'..." Fred turned another sheet of brittle
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vallum. "Shit!"
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"What's wrong?", asked Ford
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"Some bastard has been pressing flowers in the book! I can't read
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what it says to do. Look at this, there are daffodils flattened onto
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the vallum sheets!"
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"Yeah", said Lensman, looking over Fred's shoulder, "and what extremely
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poor taste in flowers! I'd much rather see pansies between my
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sheets..."
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"Sun's setting, Fred", said Ford, who was standing next to the narrow
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arrowslit that served as a window, "Masky will be up and flitting
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around the belfry soon. Better not let him see that book."
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Fred hid the book under his bed and soon Masky strode in, opera cape
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flapping.
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"Good evening gentlemen. I trust you are comfortable." Count Masky
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greeted them, and continued without waiting for a response. "I have
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some business to attend to tonight, so I will be unavailable. Please
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don't pry around the keep, it could be dangerous." With that, he left.
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"Wonder where he's off to", said Lensman, a little irritated at such
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curt treatment. "Probably off to the blood bank for a withdrawal",
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said Fred wryly.
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"Better than Cefiar's habit. He makes withdrawals from the sperm bank",
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reflected Ford.
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"He used to work there", said Lensman, recalling an appropriate snippet
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of information, "but he got fired when they found him drinking on the
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job."
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"OK, enough gossip, what are we going to do about Count Masky?" Ford
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said.
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Lensman had a blank look on his face, as too did Fred. Flickering
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torchlight surrounded them until a distant yell broke the silence and
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left an uneasy tension in the air.
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"At times like this, I think we should look for inspiration at the
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inn." said Fred as he made his way out of the room and headed to the
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inn closely followed by Ford and Lensman.
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--------------------------
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Dawn was breaking as the three staggered back towards the castle.
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Earlier that evening they'd heard many things about the foul deeds of
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the evil Count, and among the other information they'd gathered was how
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to dispel a vampire, but no-one was brave enough to enter the castle to
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attempt it.
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"I don't get it." said Ford as their third rendition of What Do You Do
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With A Drunken Vampire finished. "How is a bottle of Holy Vaseline
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supposed to effect vampires?"
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"Shhh!" Slurred Fred. "We're nearing the castle, don't want him to get
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suspicious."
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--------------------------
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That evening they were woken by the spine chilling howl of a lone wolf
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somewhere in the woods nearby. Ford had commented that there would be a
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full moon that night. Natasha entered the room, her breasts arriving
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several seconds before the rest of her.
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"Good evening. The count would like to extend an invitation for you to
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join him for a meal and finalise your business matters. Would you
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follow me please?" Natasha turned, narrowly missing Fred's grasp and led
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the three down the stone corridors to the dining hall towards the
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Count's organ playing.
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The organ fell awkwardly silent as Natasha entered the room followed by
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Fred's tongue, Fred, Ford and Lensman. Turning away from the keyboard
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the Count greeted them, and gestured for them to take their seats. A
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fine dinner followed which the Count explained was some of the finest
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local cuisine.
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"Delicious." Ford began to reminisce "reminds me of and old African
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dish which I could never get the recipe for."
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"Battered ant-eater tongues, pickled worms and sauteed hog testicles."
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I'm glad you enjoyed it. Most outsiders find our local specialties,
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let's say, not to their liking."
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"Ah, Count." Fred thought he'd bring business matters up before the
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meal. "Remarkable dinner, but to the matter of our business?"
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"You will find in the chest over there" the Count gestured to a large
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wooded chest at the side of the room, "the agreed amount for the
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estate. I shall be leaving by coach within the week for England. Will
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you enjoy my company for another night? The surrounding woods can be
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dangerous at."
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"Thank you count, but we feel we would be abusing your hospitality to
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stay." Ford said as The Lensman, who now resembled jelly, green and
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wobbly, began to slip under the table assumably to keep Fred company.
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"Very well. Natasha! Get the coach. Have a pleasant journey." The Count
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turned and strode out of the room.
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--------------------------
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Lensman and Fred took a while to recover, but they knew that the count
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would soon be wanting to retire for the day, and they wanted to have
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left the castle by then. Raster helped Lensman secure the case
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onto the rear of the coach. Count Masky looked on from the large
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carved wooden doors which were the main entrance to the castle.
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"Farewell Count. It has been a pleasure doing business with you." Fred
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grinned as he followed Ford into the coach and closed the door.
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The coach pulled away to the crack of Raster's whip, down along a dark
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winding road through the woods. Ford watched as the last spire of the
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castle disappeared into the distance and turned to Fred.
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"Now will you please explain what the Holy Vaseline was for Fred?"
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"Five..." Fred began, "Four... Three... Two... "
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"Arrrrggg!" A chilling scream from the castle cut Fred short and echoed
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across the valley.
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"Damn, my timing's out! Good thing he a good Catholic Vampire and
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doesn't use condoms isn't it?" Fred grinned.
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"I hear there's a Frankenstein guy looking for a vacant castle
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not far from here." Ford commented as he non-chalantly nibbled
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his nails.
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"Driver! To Frankenstein's Castle!"
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|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
============
|
|
Synderella
|
|
============
|
|
By Avalon ..
|
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|
|
Once upon a time, in a land not to different from our own, there
|
|
lived a pretty, but flat-chested and almost innocent girl called
|
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"Synderella". She lived at home with her stepmother and her fat,
|
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ugly stepsisters.
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Synderella was always left to do the more mundane tasks such as
|
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cooking [Can anyone live on bouncy cheesecakes alone?] and
|
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scrubbing up after her stepsisters and stepmother.
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|
One day an invitation came to the house from the palace, it was
|
|
an invitation to the King's next orgy, it was given to all
|
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females who were thought worthy of being there. Synderella
|
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thought she was invited too.
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|
|
In the lead up to the ball, her stepsisters had many tasks for
|
|
Synderella. "Wash this, I don't want to get any more diseases!"
|
|
"Where's my pill?" were some of the constant requests of
|
|
Synderella. "Should I curl my hair or go bald and wear a wig?",
|
|
pondered one of her stepsisters as she prepared herself for the
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orgy.
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|
|
Finally the night arrived and when the coach arrived Synderella
|
|
was still in her leather and chains and was unable to go since
|
|
she was obviously overdressed for the occasion.
|
|
|
|
"Get back inside now!" yelled the stepmother, cracking a whip
|
|
and pulling hard on the chain that wound its way to Synderella,
|
|
forcing her back inside.
|
|
|
|
A few hours later when Synderella had finished her chores and
|
|
her stepmother had retired to bed, Synderella sat alone on
|
|
her bed deep in thought of what it would be like to be at the
|
|
orgy, and began weeping silently to herself "It's not (sob) not
|
|
fair..."
|
|
|
|
{POOF!}
|
|
|
|
"Ok, Ok, I'm here, now stop messing about and we'll see what I
|
|
can do about getting you to the orgy." said a mysterious figure
|
|
with a lisp.
|
|
|
|
"Who are you ?", asked Synderella.
|
|
|
|
"None of your business... stand up." the mysterious figure said.
|
|
Synderella protested that she was unused to finding strange men in
|
|
her bedroom, and would not participate with anything he wanted until
|
|
she at least knew his name. Reluctantly he mumbled "You can call me
|
|
Lance. I'm your Fairy God-SysOp." With nothing much else to do,
|
|
Synderella wiped the tears from her eyes, and stood up expectantly.
|
|
|
|
"No wonder you're not at the orgy." said the stranger. "Hmmmm..."
|
|
Waving the wand in his right hand he said some words that
|
|
sounded more like an excited faggot than a magician. Synderella
|
|
stood waiting for something to happen.
|
|
|
|
"Well?!" demanded Synderella expectantly.
|
|
|
|
"Have a look at yourself now."
|
|
|
|
"Oh!" said Synderella, noticing that she now had an admirable
|
|
bust, "Much better. But how do I get there ?"
|
|
|
|
"One driver coming up...". A pillar of smoke appeared, and out
|
|
stepped Fred. "Damn! Oh well, he'll have to do. And for transport...
|
|
I think an armored personnel carrier should see you there safely,
|
|
even with this maniac driving."
|
|
|
|
A loud crash came from the road outside. "Good, got the wogs
|
|
parked in the car out front. Well what are you waitin' for ?"
|
|
asked Lance.
|
|
|
|
"I'm not going driving with him!" yelled Synderella.
|
|
|
|
"You'll be safe, after all what can happen to you inside a
|
|
APC?", replied the being of mysterious sexuality. "Oh Synderella,
|
|
don't forget to be home before midnight, after that you are
|
|
vulnerable to anything that might be floating around at the orgy, and
|
|
its better to be safe than sorry. Those who attend these orgies
|
|
aren't well known for safety. Oh, you'll also return to normal.
|
|
That could de a bit of a let down for someone.", he warned, and then
|
|
vanished with a poof. [Who was the other poof?]
|
|
|
|
"But its 9:30 now!", complained Synderella. "I'll be lucky if I have
|
|
five guys!"
|
|
|
|
"Stop standing around complaining and get into the APC.", commanded
|
|
Fred. The APC was sitting upon a squashed piece of metal that was
|
|
oozing grease. "Slimy grease balls. Watch out for the mess
|
|
Synderella." said Fred. "Errgghh yuck. I can see why they don't sell
|
|
lubricants in wog countries.", commented Fred as he followed
|
|
Synderella into the APC.
|
|
|
|
The trip to the palace was fairly uneventful except for the 12
|
|
houses, 8 cars, 2 trucks, and anything else that was stupid enough to
|
|
lie along the straight line between Synderella's house and the
|
|
palace. All of which Fred flattened with glee, and with the small
|
|
knife in his hand carved another 3 notches into the dashboard for the
|
|
three stupid people he managed to collect on the way. As Synderella
|
|
nimbly left the vehicle he was carving in a half-notch mumbling that
|
|
"After all one was pregnant..."
|
|
|
|
Synderella hurried up the stairs thankful that the trip was over.
|
|
Following the trail of scented steam, found the main sauna/spa room.
|
|
It was packed with people and was hard to hear anything except for
|
|
the constant groans and moans. As she shut the door, everyone turned
|
|
to stare at her, even her stepsisters, who seemed not to recognise
|
|
her. Suddenly she blushed, realizing that she was overdressed for
|
|
this, and removed what clothing she was wearing and looked for a
|
|
spare male.
|
|
|
|
As she looked, fierce glances of jealousy came from the women and the
|
|
men looked at her with lust filled eyes, but unable to break the hold
|
|
their partners' holds. Finally she found a spare male but was quite
|
|
disappointed with her find. As time crept on, so did the number of
|
|
disappointments but little did she notice that the Prince, who was as
|
|
yet unwed, was slowly but surely making his way around to her.
|
|
Giving up hope of ever gaining satisfaction and realising that
|
|
midnight was approaching, Synderella turned to leave but found
|
|
herself facing the Prince.
|
|
|
|
The Prince calmly took control of the situation and directed
|
|
Synderella towards bliss. Synderella lost all sense of time, and
|
|
just as she was beginning to think she would climax for once she
|
|
heard a clock ring out: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
|
|
eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve to the rhythm of the Prince.
|
|
"Midnight!" thought Synderella, with images of flat breasts, she
|
|
panicked. Pulling away from the Prince she left hurriedly,
|
|
forgetting to dress and ran out as quickly as possible.
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile the Prince was dumbfounded, why would any woman run away
|
|
just as she was about to climax? Distraught and disappointed that he
|
|
had missed out on such a fine pair, he set about to look for her.
|
|
The only clue, a body suit that could fit only one person properly.
|
|
|
|
The prince took the bodysuit to the local clothes makers in an effort
|
|
to find the tailor that made such an erotic garment. Without success
|
|
there, he sent forth his loyal servants to find the sensuous woman.
|
|
|
|
For months, the loyal men roamed the country demanding that each
|
|
female shapely enough, try on the bodysuit, with the good came the
|
|
bad, many of them returned blind, the sights they saw were that
|
|
horrible.
|
|
|
|
Finally they came to the house in which Synderella was held captive,
|
|
her stepsisters and stepmother all tried it on but they were all too
|
|
small. By chance Synderella entered the fitting room.
|
|
|
|
"Have you tried it on miss?", inquired one of the Prince's servants.
|
|
|
|
"No of course not you fool!", replied Synderella's stepmother.
|
|
|
|
"And she's not going to either!", yelled her her first stepsister.
|
|
|
|
"I'll bet you she does fit.", challenged the second stepsister
|
|
mockingly.
|
|
|
|
"What's the stake?" questioned the third.
|
|
|
|
"Our boyfriends."
|
|
|
|
"But you don't have one!"
|
|
|
|
Synderella tried it on at the insistence of the Prince's servant. As
|
|
she put on the body suit, her bust filled out to the exact dimensions
|
|
of the bodysuit. The Prince's servants grabbed Synderella and thrust
|
|
her outside into a waiting carriage (with Fred as the driver again!)
|
|
which sped off to the palace.
|
|
|
|
"Right, here she is.", said the prince to the chaplain standing next
|
|
to him, "Marry us or I'll have your heads cut off, one by one!",
|
|
threatened the Prince.
|
|
|
|
"Yeah....right", replied the chaplain with a slightly red face and
|
|
proceeded to marry the two.
|
|
|
|
|
|
The End
|
|
|
|
Epilogue.
|
|
---------
|
|
|
|
The Prince lived until he overcame himself one evening with the
|
|
837th position in the Karma Sutra.
|
|
|
|
Synderella died when she fell (forwards!) from a balcony at the
|
|
Prince's funeral. She survived the fall, but suffered a heart
|
|
attack when she realized how high she had bounced back up into
|
|
the air!
|
|
|
|
THE END
|
|
|
|
The Moral of this story.
|
|
------------------------
|
|
|
|
Too many bouncy cheesecakes can be a health hazard.
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
===================================
|
|
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.
|
|
===================================
|
|
By Lightning Bolt
|
|
|
|
The Cast
|
|
========
|
|
|
|
Narrator: Ford Prefect
|
|
Snow White: SYN ...
|
|
The Wicked Queen: Erika Matlen
|
|
The Prince: Radio Active
|
|
|
|
Dwarves: Dopey: Vagabond
|
|
Lusty: Night Stalker
|
|
Shorty: Disk Destroyer
|
|
Sleazy: Fearless Fred
|
|
Commie: Ivan Trotsky
|
|
Nosey: Infiltrator
|
|
SysOp: Craig Bowen
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
Scene I. Queen's Royal Chambers.
|
|
--------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Narrator: We travel back in time to a long past era, when women
|
|
knew their place was in the kitchen and men knew their
|
|
place was on top. Back in those good old days before
|
|
women's lib, even the Queen had to cook. And cook she
|
|
almost did. In fact, she was quite proud of the fact
|
|
that her cooking was so bad that nobody would or could
|
|
eat it, a jealously guarded skill. Until one day....
|
|
|
|
Queen: Rubber, Rubber, Rubber Band,
|
|
Who's are the bounciest cheesecakes in the land?
|
|
|
|
Voice: Meanest, Nastiest Queenie-Pooh,
|
|
I'm afraid my darling it isn't you!
|
|
I tell this true, I tell it right,
|
|
The bounciest cheesecake is made by Snow White.
|
|
|
|
Queen: Little Brat! I'll fix her! I'll have her thrown deep into
|
|
the woods where that old witch will take her into her
|
|
house made of lollies, and she'll get so fat she'll burst!
|
|
(Psychopathic laugh.....)
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
Scene II. Late afternoon in the forest.
|
|
---------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Narrator: Well, it seems that the Queen has about as much
|
|
intelligence as she has cooking skills. Silly cow has
|
|
got her fairy tales mixed up. But, as they say in the
|
|
classics, on with the show...
|
|
|
|
Dwarves: Hi Ho, Hi Ho, A sleazing we will go...
|
|
|
|
[Dopey walks into Snow White.]
|
|
|
|
Dopey: Ouch! Oh, hey, that didn't hurt... hmm, this is a nice
|
|
soft tree.
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: I wonder if there's a pussy stuck up that tree that
|
|
wants a hand.
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Keep your hands off her Sleazy, (turns and yells) and
|
|
you'd better stop trying to take her bra off Lusty
|
|
or else!
|
|
|
|
Lusty: Or else what?!
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Or I'll tell the others just how long 9 inches really is!
|
|
|
|
Lusty: I was just checking that it was on properly. Please
|
|
don't tell!
|
|
|
|
Snow White: (Weeping) My mean nasty step mother the Queen has
|
|
deserted me here in the forest, I'm never going to find
|
|
my way home. (Sniff)
|
|
|
|
Shorty: Don't worry we'll help you wont we guys?
|
|
|
|
Lusty: (Grins)
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: (Grins)
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Of course we'll help you. But you look awfully tired.
|
|
Why don't you come back to our humble abode and rest a
|
|
while?
|
|
|
|
Snow White: Oh, (cheering up) you're all so kind, and this one
|
|
(looks at shorty) is so... so... fresh faced! He's so cute!
|
|
For all your kindness I'll cook you one of my cheesecakes.
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: She cooks too! Can you do roast lamb? Looks like we wont
|
|
need the sheep anymore.
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
Scene III. Queen's Royal Chambers.
|
|
----------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Narrator: So off they went back to the dwarves' house. Snow White
|
|
was so grateful for the dwarves' hospitality that she set
|
|
about cooking them a wonderful meal. Meanwhile, back at
|
|
the castle...
|
|
|
|
Queen: Rubber, Rubber, Rubber Band,
|
|
Who's are the bounciest cheesecakes in the land?
|
|
|
|
Voice: Meanest, Nastiest Witchy-Pooh,
|
|
I'm afraid my darling you're still number two!
|
|
|
|
Queen: Damn, I'll fix her once and for all! Let's see...
|
|
[FX: Leafing through a book sounds.]
|
|
Love potions... poison needles... toad spells...
|
|
POISON APPLE! Nah... not original enough...
|
|
Hmmm, I wonder, a poison beater, so the next cheesecake
|
|
she make.... WHAMMO! (Psychopatic laugh.)
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
Scene IV. The Dwarves' Home.
|
|
----------------------------
|
|
|
|
Narrator: The next week, when the dwarves had recovered from Snow
|
|
White's cooking, they happily went off to work again,
|
|
leaving Snow White alone in the house...
|
|
|
|
FX Knocking at door.
|
|
|
|
Voice: Hello, anyone home, I'm your neighborhood tupperware lady.
|
|
|
|
Snow White: Oh, come on in!
|
|
|
|
Old Lady (Who's actually the Queen in disguise): Would you be
|
|
interested in throwing a Tupperware party my dear?
|
|
|
|
Snow White: Oh, no thanks, people in this neck of the woods don't
|
|
go in for that sort of thing much.
|
|
|
|
Old Lady: Never mind, could I at least interest you in one of our
|
|
new lines. It's a beater specially designed for making
|
|
cheesecakes?
|
|
|
|
Snow White: Oh yes! It's just what I need! My last one didn't go down
|
|
all that well with the guys.
|
|
|
|
Old Lady: (Gives the beater to Snow White.) I should be off now.
|
|
Farewell my dear. (Exits. Psychopathic chuckle.)
|
|
|
|
--------------------------
|
|
|
|
Scene V. The Dwarves' Home that Evening.
|
|
----------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Narrator: Well, the mean, nasty Queen's plan worked. Snow White
|
|
immediately started to cook the Dwarves a cheesecake, and
|
|
fell into a deep sleep as she started to beat the cream
|
|
cheese... that night when the dwarves returned from work...
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Look guys, Snow White's asleep! You haven't been trying
|
|
to chat her up have you Dopey?
|
|
|
|
Dopey: Ahhh, errrr, well, you see, ummmmm?
|
|
What was the question again?
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: Great, now is my chance to do some serious whipped
|
|
cream licking!
|
|
|
|
Shorty: That's disgusting! You should love and respect all women,
|
|
and... Hey! Put me down!
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Leave him alone Sleazy, (turns and yells) and get off her
|
|
Lusty! Let's figure out what we're going to do about this.
|
|
|
|
Dopey: I once read a book ya know.
|
|
|
|
(all wait expectantly)
|
|
|
|
Nosey: So?
|
|
|
|
Dopey: I just thought I should tell you that because you all think
|
|
I am dumb and things.
|
|
|
|
Nosey: (With a glint in his eye) When's the last time we had a
|
|
good gang bang?
|
|
|
|
Shorty: (About to say something but thinks better of it.)
|
|
|
|
Commie: Well, look at it this way guys, we don't have to eat any more
|
|
of her AWFUL cooking!
|
|
|
|
Shorty: He's got a point there.
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: How about Dial-A-Dino's. Let's see (opens yellow pages)
|
|
Dial-a-Slut, hmmm I'll just make a note of that,
|
|
Dial-A-Prince, there's one for Robbie!
|
|
Dial-a-Dino's here we are!
|
|
|
|
SysOp: That's it! A prince. She's under one of those cliche
|
|
spells that need a kiss to snap them out of it.
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: Can we get some food first? I'm starving! Besides, we
|
|
could always try licking whipped cream off various parts
|
|
of her anatomy to see if that will wake her up first.
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Hand me that phone. (Grabs Phone & Dials.)
|
|
Hello, Peasant's Princely Products?
|
|
I'd like one pair of Princely Lips, and make it FAST!
|
|
(Hangs up, thinks, picks up the phone.)
|
|
We're in the middle of the woods.
|
|
(Hangs up.)
|
|
|
|
Commie: You should have told them we'll pay VISA. (SMILES!)
|
|
|
|
FX Knock at door.
|
|
|
|
Prince: (Entering) [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] You called?
|
|
|
|
SysOp: What took you so long?
|
|
|
|
Prince: [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] Some damned wolf ran me off the
|
|
road on the short cut. So what seems to be the problem?
|
|
|
|
Sleazy: Can I at least TRY the whipped cream first?
|
|
|
|
SysOp: Can it Sleazy! (Turns to Lusty) PUT HER BACK LUSTY!
|
|
(To Prince) Ms White here needs your lips.
|
|
|
|
Prince: [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] No problem. (Kisses Snow White....!)
|
|
[FX: Lots of SLURP NOISES... then whatever is appropriate]
|
|
|
|
Snow White: (Sleepily) Oh... that was great. Do you respect me still?
|
|
|
|
Prince: [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] Yes, but I'd enjoy it more if you
|
|
wriggled a bit.
|
|
|
|
Narrator: And thus Snow White was revived, and went on to marry the
|
|
Prince. The Dwarves lived happily ever after on junk food,
|
|
as did Snow White and the Prince. What about the mean nasty
|
|
Queen you're wondering. She dropped one of her cheesecakes
|
|
which bounced off the floor, into the wall, ricoched off
|
|
the wall and killed her. Which just goes to disprove the
|
|
old saying; "If you can't whip them, beat them."
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
====================
|
|
Anarchistic Sports
|
|
====================
|
|
By Lightning Bolt.
|
|
|
|
This has been an exciting month in the sports world. With the first
|
|
Victorian Bullshit Spinning League match being held we decided to
|
|
cover the action in detail. Down at ringside was Lightning Bolt
|
|
reporting on the match between The Masked Avenger and The Mentat.
|
|
|
|
We settled down ringside at the first Bullshit Spinning League match
|
|
of the season. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and the boys in bay
|
|
13 led by The Lensman were already getting into the mood with a hail
|
|
of empties being tossed at The Mentat as he entered the arena, the
|
|
odds on favorite after Masky's trainer revealed he had a sore throat.
|
|
|
|
The Masked Avenger was wearing a stunning pink satin gown, compared
|
|
to The Mentat in his drab brass studded leather jacket. Tension was
|
|
mounting as the umpire brought them together to shake hands Masky
|
|
kneed Mentat in the groin to the pleasure of the crowd.
|
|
|
|
As the bell sounded signifying the beginning of the first quarter,
|
|
Masky didn't waste any time, attacking Mentat with a favorite of his;
|
|
his 18 foot long dick. Mentat was only momentarily stunned, and
|
|
countered with with 50 hard disks he bought using an NUI he hacked
|
|
one evening. The crowd was stunned as too was Masky who could only
|
|
manage a feeble attempt at explaining how fun it was to be with
|
|
Vagabond in response. Mentat was bearly taken back by Masky's move
|
|
and sent him reeling with his progamming abilities in eight languages
|
|
and followed it up with a low attack about his penis size being
|
|
comparable to a horse's. Luckily for Masky the bell sounded ending
|
|
the first quarter.
|
|
|
|
As the bell sounded a couple of minutes later, Masky was waiting for
|
|
Mentat who attacked with his Porche 944 that he bought using his
|
|
mum's AMEX card. Masky was well prepared for this one, and countered
|
|
with his brilliant exam results, and continued with the quality of
|
|
Fred's mustache and managed to again knee him in the groin while the
|
|
umpire wasn't looking. The crowd was going wild, a Mexican Wave
|
|
circled the ground to a slow chant of "Masky! Masky!". The Mentat was
|
|
still dumbfounded, and Masky continued ahead of Mentat until the end
|
|
of the first half.
|
|
|
|
Half time entertainment wasn't bad, with an arousing strip-tease by
|
|
Julie Alderman, followed by Thelonius Monk blowing his horn. As Monk
|
|
finished his rendition of the Peter Gunn theme, Mentat, clearly ready
|
|
for a hard fight in the second half entered the ring followed closely
|
|
by Masky.
|
|
|
|
The third quarter went by rather uneventfully, although Mentat scored
|
|
well with a brilliant attack with Big Mother and his WIFE.
|
|
|
|
The last quarter was where we expected the bullshit to really fly,
|
|
and we weren't disappointed. Masky was first on the offensive with a
|
|
well timed "Taxi Cab is my best friend" followed by "I beat up Radio
|
|
Active yesterday." The Mentat was obviously being out classed, but
|
|
wasn't yet beaten and came back with a condom story and how this hot
|
|
date he screwed last week had worn through the condom. Masky couldn't
|
|
handle that one, and Mentat quickly followed it with the dose of
|
|
gonorrhea he caught from a model and the syphilis he caught at the last
|
|
orgy he went to which knocked Masky to the floor. Before the umpire
|
|
could stop him, he hit Masky with his herpes infection caught when
|
|
Raquel Welsh was in Australia for the Logies gave him the worse head
|
|
job he'd ever had.
|
|
|
|
That was it. It was a clear win to Mentat, who then turned to the
|
|
crowd, enticing them with his sexual proficiency with a netball team
|
|
before a well thrown stubbie from The Lensman sent him running to the
|
|
changing rooms.
|
|
|
|
All in all, a good start to the new season. Next month will be
|
|
another exciting round with Cefiar facing Taxi Cab. Cefiar with his
|
|
25 Gigabyte bulletin board should be an even match for Taxi Cab and
|
|
his father's sicopaths.
|
|
|
|
Other results this month
|
|
------------------------
|
|
|
|
The amature wet T-shirt competition was won by Julie Alderman.
|
|
|
|
The amature g-string competition was lost by Masked Avenger.
|
|
|
|
Street Fighting
|
|
---------------
|
|
Geriatric Grannies 8 Gordie's Sicopaths 1
|
|
Bowen's Butchers 7 D.D. & the other Dwarves 3
|
|
Trotsky & The Red Army 1 Adolf's SS 0
|
|
|
|
Pub Crawling
|
|
------------
|
|
Fred 8
|
|
Lensman 8
|
|
Eliminator 15
|
|
Satan's Daughter 3
|
|
Craig Bowen 0
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
=======================
|
|
This Edition's Awards
|
|
=======================
|
|
|
|
Sysop of the month................................. Craig Bowen
|
|
|
|
I Want to be a Bastard Sysop of the month.......... Masked Avenger
|
|
|
|
Claytons Sysop of the month........................ Cefiar
|
|
|
|
Drunken Sysop of the month......................... Fearless Fred
|
|
|
|
Magical Sysop of the month (POOF!)................. Lance Link
|
|
|
|
Horny Sysop of the month........................... Night Stalker
|
|
|
|
Lost but not Forgotten Sysop of the month.......... The Alien
|
|
|
|
The Cheque is in the mail award.................... Lounge Lizzard
|
|
|
|
Mega Fugly Award................................... Alex Rogan
|
|
(Even fuglier than Masky)
|
|
|
|
Boring Award....................................... Vagabond
|
|
|
|
Spunky Bum Award................................... Fearless Fred
|
|
|
|
Spotty Bum Award................................... Sprite
|
|
|
|
I Refuse to Reveal my Bra Size Award............... The Bogan
|
|
|
|
Driver of the Month................................ Mandie
|
|
(Women drivers!)
|
|
|
|
Hoon of the Month.................................. Wodger Wabbit
|
|
|
|
Boring Cruise of the month......................... Vagabond Cruises
|
|
[Private joke - Ed.]
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
=======================
|
|
Quotes for this month
|
|
=======================
|
|
|
|
The Bogan: "How many have you got?"
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "Eighteen!"
|
|
|
|
[I think he must be talking in millimeters! Ed]
|
|
|
|
SYN ...: "Ah, not that long..."
|
|
|
|
SYN ...: "I couldn't cope with any more than four..."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "Loosen up!"
|
|
|
|
SYN ...: "It's just really hard to work in..."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "You've got to cum!"
|
|
|
|
SYN ...: "...you can, but I wont."
|
|
|
|
The Bogan: "Can I?"
|
|
|
|
Craig Bowen: "I blew something as I came..."
|
|
|
|
Killer Tomato: "Dianne gets all the big parts."
|
|
|
|
Vagabond: "It's shaped for your hand."
|
|
|
|
Fearless Fred: "I've got to release this tomorrow."
|
|
|
|
Vagabond: "It's a real pain in the ass."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "What is it?"
|
|
|
|
Vagabond: "It's VERY slick."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "Gimme that!"
|
|
|
|
The Bogan: "I might."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "I haven't done that for so long..."
|
|
|
|
The Bogan: "It's disgusting and you shouldn't do it!"
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "It's really hard!"
|
|
|
|
Royna: "Open your mouth..."
|
|
|
|
SYN ...: "See if I can get it in..."
|
|
|
|
Craig Bowen: "Look like she bit off more than she can chew."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "Oh God, that felt good!"
|
|
|
|
The Bogan: "I haven't had one in seven weeks."
|
|
|
|
Masked Avenger: "Are you into bondage?"
|
|
|
|
The Bogan: "No... Just perverted."
|
|
|
|
Walter Slayer: "I'm not perverted. I'm just a sexual experimentialist."
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
================================
|
|
Thanks to the Following People
|
|
================================
|
|
|
|
Mick & Raquel: Thanks for showing me around Sydney, I just wish I
|
|
could remember more!
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
=======================
|
|
E V I L A N G E L S
|
|
=======================
|
|
|
|
At present the Evil Angels team consists of the following:
|
|
|
|
FOUNDER: The Masked Avenger.
|
|
|
|
EDITOR: Lightning Bolt (AKA Fearless Fred)
|
|
|
|
AUTHORS: Fearless Fred (AKA Lightning Bolt)
|
|
Ford Prefect.
|
|
|
|
ARTIST: Ford Prefect.
|
|
|
|
LOGO BY: B.D.S. (The Yid)
|
|
|
|
PROGRAMMER: Vagabond.
|
|
(BSF Boys)
|
|
|
|
ASSOCIATE MEMBERS: Thelonius Monk The Lensman
|
|
Sprite Fizban
|
|
Disk Destroyer Ivan Trotsky
|
|
SYN ... Avalon ..
|
|
Craig Bowen Nixx
|
|
|
|
FAVORITE PEOPLE: Taxi Cab Blue Fox
|
|
(TO HASSLE) Captain Chaos Simply Sparks
|
|
Fire Fox Vagabond
|
|
Raster Blaster SYN ...
|
|
Disk Destroyer Ice Man (and Robbie)
|
|
Royna Masked Avenger
|
|
Julie Alderman Killer Tomato (Hi Stu!)
|
|
The Bogan Satan's Daughter (Mandie)
|
|
Cefiar Alex Rogan
|
|
|
|
YOU TOO can help rid the world of nerds- By purchasing any of
|
|
the following quality official Evil Angels Products:
|
|
|
|
"I hate the Masked Avenger" Badges $3.00
|
|
|
|
Evil Angels Badges... $3.00
|
|
|
|
Bi Bi P.I. Video... $25.00
|
|
|
|
Evil Angels T-Shirts...(Members Only) $15.00
|
|
|
|
Available in Light Blue and White, Black printing.
|
|
|
|
_______ _______
|
|
/ \______/ \
|
|
/ \ /|
|
|
/___/| Evil Angels |\___\ / |-------- NOW
|
|
| ______ | \ |-------- AVAILABLE!
|
|
| / E.A. \ | \|
|
|
| | Logo | |
|
|
| \______/ |
|
|
| Ridding the |
|
|
| world of nerds!|
|
|
|________________|
|
|
|
|
Printed versions of Anarchistic Tendencies Parts 1 - 11: $33.00
|
|
(Inflation!)
|
|
|
|
Remember... donations to Evil Angels are NOT tax deductible,
|
|
but WILL help rid the world of nerds! All money
|
|
raised will be used to throw a big party at the
|
|
end of the year.
|
|
|
|
+-----------------------------------+
|
|
| Donations & Payments can be sent: |
|
|
| |
|
|
| TO: The Masked Avenger |
|
|
| P.O. Box 528, |
|
|
| Mulgrave North, 3170 |
|
|
| Make cheques payable to CASH! |
|
|
+-----------------------------------+
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Anarchistic Tendencies XI
|
|
(C) March 1989
|
|
YOU HAVE NO GODDAMNMUTHAFUCKING RIGHTS!
|
|
|
|
(If you still read this shit your crazy!)
|
|
|
|
***************************************
|
|
* NO PART OF THIS FILE MAY BE *
|
|
* PUBLISHED IN MASS MEDIA WITHOUT *
|
|
* THE AUTHORS' WRITTEN PERMISSION *
|
|
* AND HALF THE AUTHORS DON'T KNOW *
|
|
* HOW TO WRITE. THE OTHER HALF ARE *
|
|
* USUALLY DRUNK! *
|
|
* *
|
|
* - That's a god-damned warning - *
|
|
* *
|
|
***************************************
|
|
|
|
::: YOUR MOTHER SUCKS COCKS IN HELL :::
|
|
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
=======================
|
|
DISCLAIMER/DATCLAIMER
|
|
=======================
|
|
The authors have gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to ensure that
|
|
this file contains no offensive material. However, should you find
|
|
anything which you object to, STIFF SHIT! You can't sue us! This
|
|
file is written with the intent of producing a humorous file which
|
|
will be enjoyed by everyone, and no offense is intended towards any
|
|
person or persons no matter how often or in what context they are
|
|
mentioned. And if you're sick of reading about SYN ... don't despair,
|
|
we're sick of writing about her. She doesn't even go red anymore!
|
|
If anyone wants to be assistant editor apply to Fred.
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Evil Angels Will Return With Anarchistic Tendencies XII
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
The Memoirs of Dianne Nichols.
|
|
|
|
|