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textfiles/magazines/AT/at14.txt
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+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
////////////////////////////// WARNING! \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
This is an ADULTS ONLY comedy file. Some language and descriptions
may offend some people. If you feel you are one of these people,
stop reading now.
[I would say something like THATSAGODDAMMUTHAFUKINGWARNING but
Raph told me not to! -Ed]
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
They're lean... green... and on your computer screen!
______/| __
| __ | / \
\ | \| | /
| | ___ ___ _/\ | |
| |__/| | | | | \_/ | |
| | | | | | ___ | |
/ __ | \ \ | | | | | |
| | \| \ \/ _/ | | / /
| | \__/ | | | |/|
| |__/| |_| |____|
_____ |_____ |
/ _ \ _ \| _ __
/ / \ \ | |___ _____/ | ______ / \
/_ / \ | | __ \ / __ | / ___ | | / _____
| |___| | | / \ \ | / \ | | | \ | | | / _ \
| ___ | | | | | | | | | | | | / | | \_ \\_|
| / | | | | | | | | _| | | \__/ | | | \ \
| | | | |_| |/ \ \_/ | | ___/ | | __ | |
/__| | | \___/| | \ |____ | | __ \ \/ /
\___\ | | \_____/ \ \/ / \___/
/|________/ | \__/
/ __________/
\_|
____
/ / ___ ___ ____ ___ ___ _/_ ____
/___/ / /__/ /___ /__/ / / / /___
/ / /___ ___/ /___ / / / ___/ o o o
Another Expedition into the Realms of Stupidity with
Anarchistic Tendencies Part XIV.
____________________________________________________________________
\ /
\ T E E N A G E M U T A N T N I N J A /
\______________________________________________________________/
________ __ __ _______ ________ __ ______ ____
/ _| | | | | | \ | | | | | ___| / \
\__ _/ | | | | | ,--, | |__ __| | | | |___ \_ |\/
\ \ \ | | | | |,-' ,/ | | | |___ | ___| _ \ \
\ \ | `--' / | |\ \ | | | | | |___ / \/ |
\_/ \______/ |__| \___\ |__| |______| |______| \____/
I N M E L B O U R N E : "Telecom Trouble"
A tribute to Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman (without whom there would never
have been the incredible Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), Mark Freedman
(executive producer of the cartoon series), and the late Jim Henson (designer
of the turtles costumes in the TMNT movie).
Written by Raphael Turtle and Fearless Fred.
Edited and Released by Fearless Fred.
[He's the Evil Angels' answer to
Burne Thomson. (except Burne Thomson
does MORE WORK) - Raph]
[Who the hell's Burne Thomson? -Ed]
+----------------------------------------------------------------------+
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Heroes in a half-shell,
Turtle Power!
They're the world's most fearsome fighting team.
[We're really hip!]
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
They're heroes in a half-shell, and they're green!
[Hey, get a grip!]
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
When the evil Shredder attacks,
These turtle boys don't cut him no slack!
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Splinter taught them to be ninja teens,
[He's a radical rat!]
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
Leonardo leads,
Donatello does machines.
[That's a fact, Jack!]
Teenage mutant ninja turtles
Raphael is cool but crude,
[Gimme a break!]
Michaelangelo is a party dude!
[Paaarrrtttyyyyyyyy!]
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Teenage mutant ninja turtles,
Heroes in a half-shell,
Turtle power!
|\
| \
| \
__ |\ | |
\ \| |__________ | |
`--,' \ | |
|\__________/| | |
_|_ __ __ _|_ | |
/ \________/ \ | |
| __ __ | | |
| ===\ /=== | | |
_/`-----\______/-----'\| |
/ \__ ========
| `--,_ ______,-,/_|__|
\__ / | | | _____)
| `--,_/ |______|_|______)
| ----' (|__| \
(\_________||______ (_____ |
|\_________________ (______/
\ || |__|
|\_________||_________/,
| _ _ |___
\ / \/ \_ / \_
| / \___ / _/\
|_____| ---\__/ |
/ \ | |
\_____/ | '---,
| | (___ --|
| | `----'
/ _ \
(__/ \__)
+---------------------------------------------------------------------+
+----------------+
Call These Boards!
+----------------+
For interstate callers prefix with 03
For international callers prefix with + 61-3
The Twilight Zone. 878-3539 All Speeds to 2400.
Home of the Anarchy Files.
Further Regions. 725-1923 All Speeds Modem, lots of Philes.
Delta BBS. 793-4548 For RPG Players and Homosexuals.
The Crossover. 364-1282 All Speeds with LOTS of hard disk and an
AD LIB card (as if you didn't know!)
Chicago. 728-6698 1200 & 2400 CCITT, 300 Bell.
The Hard Rock Cafe. 894-2815 Four Lines.
The BlackBoard. 776-5206 NO NERDS!
+---------------------------------------------------------------------+
And Now... _
/ | ____
/ | | |
_ | | | |
| \| | | | __
| | | | ____ ___ ___ |
_____ | | | |__| |_| |_| | |
_____ | |_|__ |\ |___| | ____ |
| |__| \ \| |__________ |__| | |
___| `--,/ \ | |
__| |\__________/| |__|
_|_ __ __ _|_
__ ,--,___ / \________/ \ ___----,
_/ / / \__ | __ __ | __/ | |
_|\ _| |_ \| ===\ /=== |/ | _/ \
_/ \\/ `--' \_ /`-----\______/-----'\ \/ |
/ `| \_ | _______ _______ __/ | |
|__|__/_/ \_|| \ / ||__/ |___|
|| || || || || || |___|_
|| ||--------||--------|| / \
|| (\________||________/) | __ , |
|| __ ___ |\__________________/| //`//|_|\\
/ \-- \| \ || / |__ //
/ \ \ \_____||_____/ / \__ //
| \__ ____ _____ ____ //_
\ \___________ ________ ___\
\_ _/ \/ \ ___/ |
|-----| \/ |
( ) |__ |
| _| ___ ___/ \_____/
_| | \ / \_/ /
/ \ | | | _/
\ \_/ \ \ ______/
| | | |
\_ \ \ \
\__ | | _, \
\___/ |_| |_|rt90
TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES IN MELBOURNE : TELECOM TROUBLE
by Raphael Turtle.
The glowing skyline of New York stood out starkly against the black night
sky. New York was a city that never closed up for the night... things just
got a little quieter.
At night, certain minorities crept out of the dives... drunks, muggers, drug
pushers... and turtles.
Leonardo surveyed the lonely street intently from under the slightly raised
manhole cover, then looked down and whispered, "It's all clear, fellas, let's
go."
The manhole cover grated against the bitumen road surface, and four
figures crept into the night.
---------------
Meanwhile, ten miles below the city, in the spherical armoured fortress known
as the Technodrome...
"Ooohh, Shredder, I can't stand this!", ranted Krang as the lights on the
bridge dimmed and wavered uncertainly like Disk Destroyer at the front door
of a girl's house. "We must get more power, WE MUST!"
Krang nudged a joystick in front of him with one of his protuberances, and
his body flicked a row of switches on the console in front of him. The lights
blacked out completely for a moment, then returned to normal brightness.
Krang turned around to face Shredder. "All we have left is the energy in a
few backup storage cells. When that's gone we're finished!"
Shredder knew it was unwise to ask stupid questions when Krang was in a mood,
but he eventually asked "So how are we going to get more energy?"
"By eating Nutri Grain of course!", spat Krang sarcastically, "You fool
Shredder, don't you think if I knew how to get more power I'd have done it
by now!?" Krang turned angrily back to the console. "And where are those
moronic mutants of yours?"
"I gave them the night off."
"Hmm... what's this?", Krang wondered aloud as he turned up the sound of a
nearby television monitor.
"... This is April O'Neil, with a Channel Six News Update. Four people are
missing feared dead when a boat sank five miles off the New York coast. The
boat was being used for the laying of underwater telecommunications cables
at the time, and authorities say-"
Krang flicked the monitor off with a snicker. "This gives me an idea,
Shredder. The telecommunications system. THERE'S a line of attack we haven't
tried yet."
"Yes", moaned Shredder, "but a line of attack that will be foiled by the
turtles as usual."
"If we do it HERE perhaps, but the turtles couldn't stop us if we tried it
overseas. In, say, Melbourne, in Australia?"
"In AUSTRALIA? How on earth are we going to get there?"
"We may not have enough power to raise the Technodrome but I'm certain we
have enough to bore our way under the crust to Melbourne."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm as positive as Lance Link's blood tests."
"Well, if you're THAT certain, I'm going to get Bebop and Rocksteady. I'm
taking my usual transport module."
"Why do you always take the biggest module?", asked Krang suspiciously.
"I happen to like it", answered Shredder vaguely.
"I bet it's just a penis extension!", hissed Krang.
"Ha! Well at least I've got something to extend Krang!"
"Ooooh Shredder, you can be cruel!"
---------------
Meanwhile, topside, in the "Cefiar's Face" pizza parlour on 69th street,
the waitress, Blue Fox, looked down with distaste at the pizza she was
carrying, and set it down at the table where the turtles were gathered
wearing trenchcoats and hats. Then she left to talk to her boyfriend and
chef, Ivan Trotsky.
"Oh, perfectamondo!", exclaimed Michaelangelo, "the banana and mushroom pizza
we ordered!"
"Y'know", said Leonardo, as he reached for a slice, "it sure has been quiet
recently."
"Yeah", said Donatello between mouthfuls, "it's probably about time for
Shredder to hatch another evil scheme."
[Fearless Fred has similar paranoia attacks; when his board has
been running a few weeks without any hiccoughs, he begins to wonder
what horrific problem is slowly manifesting itself - Raph]
The turtle's chatter was interrupted as the restaurant doors were kicked in,
and a certain rhino and warthog bounded towards the turtles' table with
blasters ready.
"Hey, looks like we found the turtles!", said Bebop.
"Yeah", grinned Rocksteady, "and am I in the mood for turtle-trashing!"
"Sorry horn-head", said Michaelangelo, "but we've got other plans!"
Leonardo and Michaelangelo lifted the table and heaved it at Bebop and
Rocksteady, sending cutlery and pizza everywhere. Rocksteady fired blindly,
his shots blowing fragments of plaster out of the ceiling.
As the four turtles dived for cover in different corners of the pizza
parlour, the other patrons began screaming and running for the exit.
By the disintegrated door, Blue Fox and Ivan Trotsky looked on with horror.
"I'm getting out of here!", Blue Fox yelled to Ivan.
"Yeah, this is too much for me as well. Animals talking and destroying the
place. We'll go to my house. Oh, but if my pet sheep has started talking as
well, anything it says about me is LIES, okay?"
Blue Fox and Ivan joined the rush through the door.
Meanwhile, Bebop and Rocksteady were firing randomly, hoping to hit one of
the hidden turtles. Raphael bobbed up from behind one of the tables, and
threw one of his sai at a hanging ceiling lamp. The sai severed the cable,
and the lamp crashed onto Rocksteady's skull.
Avoiding Bebop's fire by doing a back flip, Raphael joined Leonardo behind
the salad bar.
[Remember kids, these guys are professionals, don't try this at
home! -Ed]
"Got any plans, Leonardo?", asked Raphael.
"Yeah! This!"
Leonardo leapt over the salad bar at Bebop as he drew one of the katanas that
were strapped across his shell. As Bebop levelled his blaster, Leonardo
sliced the barrel off.
"Hey!", grunted Bebop, "no fair circumcising the weapons!"
"Got you now, shellback!" Rocksteady had found Donatello crouching behind an
overturned table. Donatello quickly swung his bo and connected with
Rocksteady's head.
"Oww, I wish you guys would stop doin' that!"
As the mutant rhino unsteadily brought his blaster up, Michaelangelo jumped
up from behind the counter, and threw one of his nunchakus. Rocksteady gasped
as his blaster was knocked to the other side of the room.
Michaelangelo followed up the attack by hitting Bebop with an entire deep-pan
pizza.
"Ahhhh... what a waste of good pizza!", he sighed.
"BEBOP! ROCKSTEADY!"
All turned to see Shredder silhouetted in the doorway.
"Leave those turtles, we've got a Melbourne telecommunications system to take
over! Get outside into the module."
As the mutant rhino and warthog ran across the splintered tables and chairs,
Leonardo stepped forward.
"Right Shredder, time for us to settle a few old scores."
"Sorry, reptile, but as much as I'd like to oblige, I've got more important
things to do!"
With that, Shredder hurled a small canister at Leonardo's feet. It broke
open, and the parlour was instantly filled with a choking red haze.
[SMOKING CAUSES LUNG CANCER. Health Authority Warning - Ed]
"Boy", coughed Donatello, "there's more smoke in here than Fred's bedroom
when he lights up after sex!"
"I've found the door", yelled Raphael, "over this way!"
Outside in the carpark, the turtles found a circular hole in the bitumen
brimming with molten lava.
"We're too late", said Leonardo bitterly, "they got away."
"Hey, listen up compadres...", said Michaelangelo as the sound of police
sirens became audible, "We'd best be making turtle tracks."
The four turtles headed for the nearest manhole.
---------------
"... and that's what happened, Master." Back in the lair, Leonardo finished
telling Master Splinter, the mutant half-rat who had trained them in the art
of ninjitsu, his account of what had happened on the surface.
"Hmmm...", mused Splinter, "this is very bad."
"And who or what is this Melbourne?", asked Raphael.
"Not who or what, but WHERE, Raphael", said Splinter as he got up and ran a
claw over the titles on a bookshelf.
Finding what he was looking for, Splinter brought an atlas back to the circle
of seated turtles, and opened it to a map of Australia.
"Australia, huh?", said Donatello, as he left the room, struck by a thought,
"maybe we should rename this story `Shredhead Goes DownUnder'."
"See here", said Splinter, pointing, "Melbourne is the capital of Victoria."
"I though Victoria didn't have any capital any more." Michaelangelo put in.
"Melbourne is the Capital City." Splinter corrected him.
"Like, what would old tin grin want with a branch of Australia Telecom?",
asked Michaelangelo.
"I don't know", said Leonardo, "but we've got to follow him to Melbourne and
find out."
"Wait a minute, what if Shredder's just trying to slip us a red herring?",
asked Raphael.
"He's not", said Donatello, coming back into the room with some sheets of
computer paper, "I just took some seismic readings. Take a look. The
Technodrome's definitely moving."
Michaelangelo looked doubtfully at the squiggly lines. "Couldn't that
vibration just be Eliminator breaking someone's foundations?"
"NO, it could only be the technodrome. Besides, if you look here, the
readings show that the source is going, not..."
Leonardo turned to Splinter interrupting Donatello, "Will you be coming to
Australia with us, Master?"
"Yes Leonardo, Shredder already has a head start on us. It will take our
combined skill to defeat him."
"Umm, how are we actually going to GET there?", asked Raphael.
"No probs", said Donatello, handing out small booklets, "by plane. I once
forged us some passports in case we ever needed to go anywhere."
Michaelangelo opened his passport and looked at his photo. "Don't you think
our turtle faces in these photos are gonna look a bit suspicious?"
"Are you kidding?", asked Raphael, "have you seen the average passport photo?
Even Star Hawk looks like a paper-bag job."
"Well what are we waiting for", asked Leonardo, getting up, "lets pack
whatever's essential, tell April where we're going, put timers on the lights,
and head for the airport!"
---------------
Somewhere under the Pacific, the technodrome was chewing through the Earth's
crust and making good time.
On the bridge, Krang was piloting the technodrome while Shredder looked on.
The door behind them slid open, and Bebop and Rocksteady lumbered in, wearing
fresh band-aids. Bebop leaned over to Shredder.
"Hey, boss", whispered Bebop, "what's the plan?"
"Krang refuses to tell me the whole plan, but stage one is to take over the
Telecom building in Melbourne, Australia."
"Err, how we gonna do that?"
"By increasing the amount of chloroform they put in their air-conditioning
system."
"Awwww", whined Rocksteady, "but I don't wanna go to Australia!"
"Shuddup", answered Bebop, "and keep swimming. Ha ha, I made a funny!"
---------------
At dawn, the scene at La Guardia Airport was one of organised chaos. Having
purchased tickets for the next flight to Melbourne, the turtles and Splinter
were being bored in the concourse lounge, and watching people sneaking drugs
through customs and not finding their luggage on the carousel.
On the tannoy, Inka Princess announced in nasal tones, "Trans-World Airlines
announces the last call for flight 33 to Finland. And would the passengers
taking the early flight to Brazil fucking put it back on the runway!"
"Boy, this is an ultimo snore, dudes", moaned Michaelangelo, looking glumly
at the carpet.
Getting up, he wandered over to the observation window, and pressed his beak
up against the glass.
Another announcement came over the PA, "Attention passengers, TWA flight 12
to Melbourne, Australia, is now boarding at gate five. And a special
announcement to our ground staff, would Brett MacMillan and Taxi Cab PLEASE
stop kissing each other near the hangars!"
"That's our flight!", said Leonardo, "let's go!"
Splinter and the turtles boarded the plane and found their seats. Raphael was
sitting next to a window on the left side of the plane. To his right sat
Splinter, and next to him was Donatello.
Across the aisle from Donatello sat Michaelangelo, and next to him was
Leonardo's seat.
As Splinter settled back in his seat, he told Donatello, "You know, the last
time I flew in an aeroplane was when I fled from Japan."
The stewardesses - Brigitte Lambert, Julie Alderman, and Ech!? - boarded the
plane and headed for the rear section.
By the galley, Brigitte Lambert, picked up the PA microphone and "advised"
the passengers in her best plastic voice, "Good morning ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome aboard TWA flight twelve to Melbourne Airport, Australia. Before
takeoff, we advise you to lock your seats and trays in the upright
position... hmm, upright position, wonder if there's anything under that name
in the karma sutra... err, where was I? Oh, fasten your safety belts,
extinguish all smoking material, and glance over the emergency instructions
card.
"Remember that in the event in a mid-air explosion, there will be a notable
lack of wings, and a sudden depressurisation problem. This sudden drop in
pressure will be apparent by your ears popping and by Julie Alderman's tits
exploding. You will all find a TWA-regulation parachute under your seat. If
used, women are advised to pull the right cord or risk bleeding to death. If
Steven Pastry is onboard, he is advised HIS chute will open on impact."
"Shortly after takeoff Ech!? will be bringing around the refreshments
trolley, and let me just say now she's a right little tart and a full-fledged
member of the Mile-High Club. So if you like doing it in aeroplane dunnies,
she's the one to grope!"
[I hope ECH!? never reads that, and if she does I didn't write it -Ed]
Not long after that, the plane began moving forward. The vibration of its
motion along the tarmac suddenly fell away as the plane left the ground. When
the plane had stopped climbing, the captain made an announcement over the
P.A.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen. This is Horace Mash, your pilot. We have
achieved our cruising altitude of 30,000 feet and should be landing at
Melbourne in the evening, local time, where it is currently 14 degrees. Enjoy
your flight."
There was a thud over the PA system as the microphone was put down, but
turning it off had apparently been forgotten.
"Another boooooooring flight", complained Cadet Ace, the co-pilot.
"Well, it has its compensations", argued the pilot.
"Like what? There's NOTHING to do in Melbourne."
"Well, when we land we can always head off to St. Kilda."
"What's there?"
"YOU KNOW. FITZROY street, in St. Kilda!? Visit some bars, get pissed, pick
up some cheap root-rats."
All the passengers were almost pissing themselves laughing by this time, so
Julie Alderman ran, red-faced, to the cockpit to turn off the P.A.
"Hey, you needn't hurry!", yelled Raphael, "he wants to visit a bar and get
pissed first!"
Soon, Ech!? appeared from behind the galley curtains, pushing a squeaky
trolley laden with food and drinks.
"Ah, excuse me", Michaelangelo called to her, leaning out into the aisle, "I
wonder if you might get me a little snack? A little peperoni and honey pizza
would be bodacious."
"Michaelangelo", warned Leonardo, "you'll spoil your lunch."
"Hey chill out, I'm not spoiling my lunch, I'm just supplementing breakfast."
"I'll see what I can do", said Ech, "but I don't know if we have that sort
of thing." She turned to Donatello, and asked sweetly, "Can I get you
anything? Would you like some of our TWA coffee?"
"Oh, no thanks lady, I don't like coffee very much, but I wouldn't mind your
TWA tea."
{Slap!}
"Owwww! Hey, what was that for? What did I say?"
The flight to Melbourne was fairly uneventful, with Splinter and the turtles
alternately dozing and flipped through the boring in-flight magazine. The
plane touched down at Melbourne Airport at about 5:30 pm local time.
Michaelangelo bounded into the arrival lounge, "Alright! Australia at last,
I can't wait to try my first lamington and vegemite pizza!"
"Lamington and vaginal WHAT?", exclaimed Leonardo.
"Vegemite!"
"Yuck, it sounds disgusting!", said Raphael, "What is it?"
"I think it's a mineral extract", said Donatello, as he thumbed through a
small glossy booklet.
"What makes you think that, Donatello?", asked Splinter.
"Well in this `Guide to Melbourne BBSes', it specifically states Ice Man
drills for vegemite."
"Boy, it sure is cold in Melbourne", shivered Leonardo.
"I agree", said Donatello, "I'd forgotten it would be winter here. I wish I'd
brought my turtle-neck sweater."
After getting their luggage and going through customs, the turtles sought to
hitch a ride into the city.
A heavily battered Gemini pulled over beside them and the hung-over looking
driver with a crumpled cigarette in his mouth wound the window down.
"Where you (hic) headed?", he slurred.
"To the Telecom exchange, in the city, are you headed in that direction?",
asked Splinter.
"Well, more or less", said Fearless Fred (who was the driver, if you hadn't
guessed), "I can drop you off by the Queen Victoria Market. Get in."
Not realising the danger, Splinter and the turtles got into Fred's car.
[My driving is NOT that bad any more! I haven't hit anything for
days! Well, nothing important anyway. -Ed]
The trip passed uneventfully for a while (if you call ripping two phone
boxes, three small shrubs and a letter box out of the ground uneventful),
before Fred turned around and spoke.
"So who are you guys, anyway?"
"We're the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.", said Leonardo.
"You're TURTLES? And I thought it was my driving making you green! So, what
do you do, as turtles?"
"We're here to save your city from two evil tyrants named Krang and
Shredder", said Donatello, "so you could say we fight for peace."
"Fighting for peace", said Fred quizzically, "isn't that like fucking for
chastity? Or investing in Pyramid?"
"Well, they're going to take over Telecom", said Leonardo.
"Oh, that's all I need", said Fred. "Something else to endanger Melbourne's
BBSes. I'm a SysOp, you know. Well, semi-SysOp, anyway."
"Uhhhh...", moaned Splinter, as Fred rounded a corner with two wheels off the
ground, "how much longer is this ride going to last?"
"Well we're getting nearer to the city now."
"Like, how can you tell, dude?", asked Michaelangelo.
"It's obvious, he's hitting more cars", observed Raphael.
"Not to mention pedestrians!", gasped Donatello as Fred's car hit a speed
hump and left the road briefly, landing with a distinct thud.
"What the hell are you talking about?", asked Fred irritably, as one of the
panels from the rear didn't make the last jump.
"I'm talking about those two nuns, that guy on the bicycle, the traffic cop
and that gardener in the park.", said Donatello.
"That gardener doesn't count", complained Fred, "all I did was get his hose
caught up in the bumper bar."
"Yeah, and now he'll never have sex again!", said Leonardo.
Fred suddenly spotted a convenient parking space, and wrenched the steering
wheel around violently, expertly applied the hard brake, preyed, and entered
the space at 60 km/hr and slewing into the parked car in front. Fred reversed
to straighten up, and smashed the headlights of the car behind. Driving
forward into the car in front again, Fred turned off the engine.
While Fred got out to moodily flick specks of foreign car paint off his
bumper bar, Splinter and the turtles fell out of the car and staggered onto
the footpath.
Fred walked up to Splinter, scribbling something down on a notepad.
"Look, I don't want anything to endanger my board... so, if you need any help
or anything, here's my number and address, okay?"
Fred tore the top sheet off the notepad, handed it to Splinter, and hurried
off into the night on some errand of his own.
"Alright Leonardo", said Raphael, "you're the leader. What next?"
"We have to infiltrate the Telecom Building. I propose we disguise ourselves
as Telecom workers and sneak in."
"Ha!", laughed Raphael, "Telecom workers, what a contradiction in terms!"
"Yeah", agreed Michaelangelo, "like that's almost as bad as saying you're
an Arts student!"
"One problem, Leo", said Donatello, "don't you think these green beaks of
ours are gonna look a little conspicuous? Not to mention Master Splinter's
fur."
"Don't worry... I've got an idea...", said Leonardo as he gazed thoughtfully
at a freshly painted sign on a nearby building:
---------------------------------------
| VAGABOND'S RUBBER DOLLS - SEE INSIDE. |
---------------------------------------
[I wonder what his girlfriend will have to say about this? -Ed]
Splinter, Donatello, Raphael and Michaelangelo followed Leonardo into the
large warehouse full of clothes racks. Each of the racks held several
coat-hangers with alligator clips which gripped the shoulders of a
sad-looking, deflated rubber doll.
"Heeeey, guys!", bubbled Vagabond as he approached them from the other side
of the store, "NICE trenchcoats! And nice dressing gown too!", he added,
seeing Splinter's kimono.
Splinter drew himself up indignantly, "This happens to be a kimono."
"Kimono? What, is she Yoko's sister or something? Anyway, you after a doll?
I've got all the latest."
Vagabond lifted a coat hanger holding a limp female form from one of the
racks. "This one's a life-sized doll of Julie Alderman, just one hundred
dollars. Or I've got some Satan's Daughters back there, again only one
hundred dollars."
As far as it is possible for something totally green to turn red, that is
what Leonardo's face did right now.
"Ahh, no... that's not quite what we're looking for... my god this is
embarrassing"
"Heeeey, guys, I UNDERSTAND. Fortunately for you I have some excellent,
realistic male dolls, each with a life-sized solid rubber digit."
Vagabond began sorting through a number of dolls on coat-hangers, reading the
attached labels. "I've got a Lensman here for a hundred bucks. Or for the
same price I can get you a Thelonius Monk. Or I can get you a Masked Avenger
for fifty."
"Why is this Masked Avenger fellow so cheap?", asked Splinter.
"Well, you need less rubber..."
"Look", said Leonardo, grabbing five dolls at random from the closest rack,
"we'll just take these."
"Certainly sir", said Vagabond, taking the cash that Leonardo offered him,
"would you like them gift-wrapped or will you eat them here?"
"Let's get OUT of here", muttered Leonardo.
Outside, Michaelangelo asked, "Hey dude, what did we get these bogus things
for?"
"You'll see", said Leonardo with a smile. Drawing his katana, he neatly
decapitated one of the dolls with a single stroke.
"I don't get it, what are you doing?", asked Donatello.
"I think I know", said Raphael, drawing one of sai. Raphael cut out the eyes
and mouth of the plastic face, which Leonardo squeezed down onto his own
head.
"Hmmm...", said Splinter, "not a wonderful fit, but I do believe it will
pass."
With a whoop of excitement, the turtles set about shredding the dolls and
trying on their new human facemasks.
"Well", said Donatello, as he pulled his mask down, "at least we don't look
like turtles and a rat now."
"Yeah", said Michaelangelo, "but with these trenchcoats and plastic faces we
look like a whole army of living Inspector Gadget dolls."
"Come on", said Leonardo impatiently, "let's not waste time."
They headed for the Telecom Exchange.
---------------
Roughly forty-five minutes later, they arrived at the Telecom Building.
In the foyer, they walked past the snoozing receptionist, and an out-of-order
pay phone, and tried to walk nonchalantly passed the two foot soldiers
guarding the elevator, hoping their disguises would work.
The two foot robots leaned forward to look blindly at them, but apparently
considered them authorised personal, since they did not hinder them as they
stepped into the lift.
Leonardo hit the button for the top floor, and the elevator took them past
several floors. They past a floor of directory-assistance operators ignoring
the phones ringing in front of them... a floor of line-noise generating
specialists... the floor of professional line-crossers... and a floor of
people listening in on conferences conversations and going "beep" every
twenty seconds. Finally the lift delivered them at the executive level.
When the lift doors opened, Splinter looked up and down the corridor, then
beckoned for the turtles to follow him.
They arrived at a large door labelled "Private", with a window in the upper
half. Peeping through the glass, Donatello gasped, "It's Shredder and Krang!"
"You were expecting Peter Garret?", whispered Raphael, pulling him away from
the window.
Splinter and the turtles knelt down and listened at the door.
---------------
"Well Krang", they heard Shredder say, "now we have total control of Telecom,
what's the next stage of the plan?"
Gleefully, Krang boasted his plan. "I now have unchecked access to Telecom's
computers, and their lists of phone numbers. I shall breach their security
and compile a list of all Melbourne Bulletin Board numbers."
"Oh, you're a hacker are you? Got any calling cards, NUIs or other phreaky
things?"
"Shut up! I shall also find out who runs these boards and where to find them.
Then I shall kidnap these `SysOps' to get top access to every board, and then
via these boards spread a new, malignant computer virus which will rapidly
infect every machine in Melbourne. With my virus controlling every computer
in this city, my power will be unmatched. Ha ha ha!"
---------------
"I think we've heard enough", whispered Splinter.
Splinter and the turtles crept back along the corridor. When they were
half-way to the elevator, its doors opened, and out stepped Bebop and
Rocksteady.
"Hey, what are you twerps doing here? You know this floor is out of bounds!",
snarled Bebop.
"Err.. yeah, our mistake", bluffed Michaelangelo, inching towards the lift.
"Hey, wait a minute!", yelled Bebop, squinting closely at Splinter's mask.
A quizzical expression crossed the mutant warthog's face before he reached
out and ripped the plastic face away.
The two mutants almost fell backwards with surprise.
"It's that ninja rat!", cried Rocksteady.
"That's not all, Rocksteady!", said Leonardo as the four turtles removed
their masks and drew their weapons.
As Rocksteady and Bebop reached for their blasters, Splinter jumped into the
air, and dealt Bebop a vicious kick to the stomach. As he folded up like a
house of cards, Raphael and Donatello tackled Bebop and brought him to the
floor.
Behind them, Michaelangelo knocked out a window pane with one of his
nunchakus, and Leonardo attached a grappling hook to the frame. Trailing his
climbing rope down the side of the building, Leonardo climbed out of the
window saying, "I'm outa here, and you're all invited!"
While Bebop and Rocksteady lay winded on the floor, the turtles and Splinter
hurriedly scaled down the rope.
Wincing, Rocksteady climbed to his feet, drew his sword, and began hacking
at the rope.
One or two floors up from street level, Raphael stopped climbing down the
rope, and asked in a worried voice, "Hey, why's the rope vibrating?"
"I dunno", said Leonardo, "just keep cliiiiii..."
The rope went totally slack as, several floors above them, Rocksteady
succeeded in his attack on the rope.
The turtles and Splinter were suspended in mid-air for a moment, still
clutching the useless rope before gravity asserted itself and they plunged
to the ground.
"Saved by the shell", muttered Raphael, as he got up and checked for broken
bones.
"Uh, I feel as if the technodrome just flattened me!", moaned Donatello.
"Yeah, I know what you mean, dude!", said Michaelangelo, hobbling on a jarred
ankle.
"We must leave here, and quickly", said Splinter, rubbing a sprained wrist.
"Yeah", agreed Leonardo, "this place'll be swarming with Foot as soon as
those two freaks report to Shredder."
The small group headed towards the centre of the city, eventually passing a
public phone booth.
"Hey", said Raphael, "let's call that SysOp who gave us a lift. I bet he'd
help us, especially when he finds out what danger his board's in."
"Yeah, great idea", said Leonardo, pulling some change out of his coat
pocket.
They waited outside the booth while, inside, Thelonius Monk made a call.
"Hello son, is mummy at home?"
"She's busy."
"Busy doing what?"
"She's in bed with her gym instructor."
"What!?"
"I said she's in bed with her-"
"I heard you, now look, you've got to kill them. Both. Use my hunting rifle."
{Pause}
"Okay, done that."
"Alright son, you have to get rid of the gun. Throw it the lake at the park."
"But we don't live near a park."
"Oh, err, oops, wrong number."
Monk hung up guiltily, and slunk off into the night.
Leonardo entered the booth, and dialled. The phone burred twice, then there
was a click and an ambient crackling.
"... Hello, this Fearless Fred speaking. I can't come to the phone right now,
cos I'm probably coming somewhere else. But if you're an extremely
promiscuous young woman, please leave your name, number, address, height, eye
and hair colour, bra size, annual income, and details of diseases and
favoured sexual position after the beep, and I'll get back to you... or back
inside you... as soon as I can. And please don't tell Lonnie about this
recording. And if you ARE Lonni this is all crap anyway..."
{Beeeeeeep}
Leonardo looked dismayed, and put the phone down. "It's a recording", he told
the others, "we'll just have to... catch a cab, I guess."
When the taxi dropped them off at Fearless Fred's house, it was obvious, from
the sound of loud music and disintegrating furniture, that a typically
destructive Fearless Fred Party was in full swing.
Leonardo walked up the front steps, and rang the doorbell.
When the front door opened, their ears were assaulted by an unresolvable
mish-mash of sounds: bottles and tinnies being opened, Masky throwing up,
people shouting to each other, a rhythmic squeaking of bed-springs, people
telling obscene jokes, other people shrieking with laughter, eggs exploding
in the microwave, and the stereo playing the Hi Tek 3's "Spin That Wheel" at
full decibels.
Fred stared from the doorway.
"Hey, you guys, I wasn't expecting you!" He noticed their haggard, injured
expressions, "What happened?"
"We had a nasty fall", said Leonardo, briefly, "We'll explain later, but
right now we have to ask you if..."
Leonardo was interrupted as a female voice from inside called out over the
din.
"Hey, Fred!"
"Oh NO", muttered Fred, then as loudly and brightly as he could, "Yes,
Syn?"
"I've just been looking through your medicine cupboard", shouted Syn as she
weaved her way through the heaving crowd towards the door, "and I've found
something weird."
"Oh shit", whispered Fred, "she's found the flavoured ones." Shouting again:
"Oh yes, what's that?"
Syn was by the front door now. "It's this little box. On it, it says `Toupe
Tape', what's that?"
"I'll take that", snapped Fred. "Oh, Syn, these are the Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles and... err, a rat."
The turtles and Splinter introduced themselves by name, then Splinter turned
to Fred. "We hate to impose on you, but we need a place to rest. We were
badly injured."
"Yeah", said Syn, looking at Donatello, "you guys ARE looking a little
green."
"Well, I suppose you could stay in the study, besides it'll give you an
insight into being a SysOp", said Fred.
Fred led the group through the party to the study, and despite the noise, and
the constant beeping of people paging the SysOp, they fell asleep almost
instantly.
---------------
The next morning, while Syn - who had not gone home after the party - made
breakfast, Fred nursed a horrific hangover as Leonardo told him about
Shredder's plan.
"... and since you're a SysOp, we want you to contact all the other Bulletin
Board operators and warn them."
"Hey, no probs", said Fred, "I'll start leaving messages right after a
caffeine boost."
But it was already too late.
As dawn broke, it looked as if it would be a chilly but surprisingly clear
day in Melbourne.
In the city square, by what was once the graffiti board, a small crowd had
gathered for a Doodz Domain meet. Those present were introducing themselves
when, without warning, a transport module exploded from beneath the ground,
and landed heavily, cracking the concrete paving.
The heavy curved door opened, and Shredder stepped out, followed by Bebop and
Rocksteady. As the bulletin board users gaped, Shredder spoke quickly into
his communicator. "Krang, I've surfaced the module, which one is Lance Link?"
Shredder turned the communicator towards the sea of scared faces. Back in the
technodrome, Krang half-leaned out of his body, to get a better look at a
nearby monitor.
The monitor displayed an ancient piece of data from the technodrome's
information banks, on the subject of recognising certain users...
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Numb ->20
Sub ->Recognition
From ->FEARLESS FRED (#83) V52
Date ->13/05/88 08:20:44am
[What I was awake at that hour of the day!? -Ed]
Don't worry, you'll have no problems...
1. Look for a Fed Cop type... suit, tie... THAT'S MENTAT
2. Look for a slob with a cigarette.... THAT'S ME. (Probably hungover
too)
3. Look for a guy with long hair sharing his tongue with a girl holding
a block of chocolate... that's Monk and Ech!?
4. Look for a tall very innocent looking person... that's SYSOP.
5. Look for a bastard.. MASKY, who else.
6. Look for a person sitting by himself.. That's Raster Blaster.
7. Look for a guy who looks like Arnold Swarzie... That's Radio Active.
8. Look for a Wimp, with a pathetic attempt at a mo, That's Bozly
9. Look for a Wimp, with his dad's cheque book, and some bouncer types,
that's Taxi Cab.
10. Don't bother looking for Sparks & Fire Fox.
11. Look out for SYN!!!!!
OK, hope that helps.
`President and Founder of B.A.L.L.S!
Bottled Alcoholic Liquids Liberation Society.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
[Betcha didn't expect me to drag that one up, eh Fred!? - Raph]
Turning to another screen, Krang flipped through several digitised pictures,
then spoke sharply into his own communicator, "I don't KNOW Shredder, there's
no info on him here. Try to find out yourself."
Back at the city square, Shredder spoke to the group of users, and,
foolishly, Lance answered him...
"Lance?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Oh no, not this again!"
Shredder leapt forward and grabbed Lance's limp wrist with one hand, holding
the knuckle-razors on his other hand by the terrified SysOp's throat.
"Don't move sysop, or else! You're going to help me take over your board. And
none of you others move! STOP!"
But the panicked BBS users, save Lance Link, had made a break for it. Bebop
and Rocksteady started firing at anything that moved.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
CHANNEL SEVEN SUPERVISOR: Okay, we're at a cliff-hanger. Time to spring
a few commercials at 'em.
VIDEO TAPE TECHNICIAN: Yep, better keep the sponsors happy...
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\ --,| ,,,, /__\
/ || |,,/ || SUPERVISOR: Dunno, sounds like
/ || /,/ /|| Lensman with an
/ || /`/ _/_||____ ,, _ erection!
/ || ____/ \\\ ,'`, \___
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Rocksteady's blaster fire blew a massive chunk out of the part of the
fountain that ran overhead and crossed the square near the graffiti board.
The fountain cracked and as water began pouring down unchecked, it collapsed
and sent pieces of stone crashing down on the stragglers.
Pete Mitchell stopped to help up Natalia, who had caught a piece of rubble
just above her left eye.
"Oh, shit, have I got a headache!", she slurred.
"For god's sake", said Pete, "just save that for bedroom like you usually do,
huh? We gotta run!"
Rocksteady looked forlorn as the last users disappeared along Swanston
Street. "Aw, gee boss, they got away!"
"He he, not all of them!", snorted Bebop.
Rocksteady and Shredder turned to see Bebop with his blaster covering a
terrified group of nerds who had evidently tried to run up the stone steps
to Collins Street, but had been too slow.
The group consisted of John Calvin, Turbo, Rishi Mehra, Blue Adept, Peter
Ham, and Spectral Image. In other words, the AMF.
"Hey", grovelled Rishi Mehra, his voice shaking, "we weren't going anywhere.
In fact, we could probably help you, if you're planning to take over a board.
We once tried to take over the Twilight Zone, and really fucked it up, didn't
we guys?"
The other members mumbled in the affirmative.
Shredder narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then spoke into his communicator,
"What do you think, Krang?"
"Hmm, I don't altogether trust them, but bring them back to the
technodrome. Hehe, I have ways of telling whether they are sincere or not."
Laughing, Krang shut down the communications channel.
"Right you two", said Shredder to Bebop and Rocksteady, as he pushed Lance
Link into the transport module, "they're coming with us. But keep an eye on
them."
Shredder stepped into the module, and Bebop and Rocksteady herded the AMF in
after him. When they too were inside, Bebop slammed down the hatch.
The transport module turned around, and disappeared down the borehole it came
up through.
---------------
Half an hour later, Rishi Mehra was sitting in an oversized metal chair in
one of the labs within the bowels of the technodrome. Various clamps held his
arms, legs and head immobile, while a spaghetti of coloured wires led from
a nearby console to electrodes placed on his skull. Overall, the effect was
not unlike a hi-tech electric chair.
While the AMF cowered in a corner, under the watchful eye of Rocksteady and
Bebop, Krang was hunched over the expansive console, muttering obscure
Dimension-X expletives.
"What's this equipment supposed to do, Krang?", asked Shredder.
"It's SUPPOSED to measure brainwaves, but these fuckwits don't have any! I
wanted to probe their minds to test their loyalty..."
Shredder glowered over Rishi. "You, CONCENTRATE!"
Rishi thought hard. The smell of smouldering sawdust filled the room.
"Still nothing!", spat Krang, exasperated, "These guys are dumber than those
mutants of yours!"
"That's not possible!", chuckled Shredder. "Anyway, I'm returning to the
surface for another SysOp."
Shredder patted his pockets, and a worried look crossed his face.
"Krang, have you seen my communicator?"
"Uh oh", muttered Turbo, turning away to face the wall. But he had been heard
by Shredder.
"You! Where's my communicator?"
"Well, umm, Mr Shredder, well with its colour and shape... it looked so much
like a steak that I... umm... barbecued it."
"Oh my god!", screamed Shredder, "They ARE dumber than Bebop and Rocksteady!"
"Here", said Krang, holding out what resembled an electronic compass, "take
this instead."
"What's this?", asked Shredder, taking the device.
"A Sysopometer. It homes in on a brainwave characteristic shared by all
SysOps. Now go, you've much to do."
Shredder waved for his two hench-mutants to follow him, and headed for the
transport module bay.
---------------
In the Royal Botanic Gardens, the low rumble of traffic along Alexandra
Avenue was suddenly blotted out by another rumble from deep underfoot.
Shredder's transport module erupted from underground and landed with a thud
on the neatly mown lawn.
Shredder stepped out, followed by Bebop and Rocksteady. Shredder quickly
checked his Sysopometer, and glanced sharply in the direction of the
Ornamental Lake, amazed as he began to hear loud orgasmic shrieks and moans.
Realising his presence would be an embarrassing interruption, Shredder pushed
his way noisily through the bushes towards the sounds.
When Shredder crashed into the clearing, with Bebop and Rocksteady behind him
with their blasters ready, he found Janine and Night Stalker sitting three
metres apart on the bank, flushed and trembling and staring straight forward
at the water.
Shredder quickly scanned the scene, noting the blanket that had been hastily
rolled aside, and the condom that had been flicked into a nearby rose bush.
"There's bigger pricks in that now than there was five minutes ago, I'll
bet", he thought.
"Am I INTERRUPTING something?", sneered Shredder.
"No", said Stalker, without moving his eyes, "we were just fishing."
Sure enough, he and Janine each had a fishing pole with the float bobbing in
the water.
"Ohhh", said Bebop, "I though I smelt fish."
Suddenly Janine gave a squeak and began yanking on her line. "Oh, Nightie,
I think I've caught something!"
"You can't have", exclaimed Stalker, "I was wearing the bloody franger!"
"No, no, on my line!"
Janine and Night Stalker looked slightly sick as they realised they had given
each other away.
Shredder laughed without mirth, "Your charade is fooling nobody, it's as fake
as Lonnie's orgasms! [Raph, you're in trouble! -Ed] Bebop, Rocksteady, grab
that SysOp and take him back to the transport module!"
Bebop and Rocksteady grinned, happy they had someone to push around, and
began to shove Stalker in the direction of the module. "Sex maniac!",
Shredder hissed after him.
"That's quite funny", spat Stalker, looking back, "coming from somebody whose
head-gear looks like a battery-operated sex toy!"
Shredder stiffened in fury, and Stalker hardly saw the blow as Shredder
gouged his knuckle-razors down the side of his face. When Stalker managed to
stop screaming uncontrollably, and fought down the gut-wrenching nausea
building up within him, he opened his eyes to see Shredder's bloodied razors
ready for a second blow. The anger was obvious in his eyes.
"If you weren't so important to Krang's plan you'd be sushi right now",
Shredder said softly. Shredder glared at Stalker for a moment, then nodded
for Bebop and Rocksteady to take him away.
---------------
In the city, Splinter and the turtles were back at the Telecom Exchange.
"Why did we have to come back here?", complained Raphael.
"Because the technodrome must be right underneath it!", explained Leonardo.
Sneaking in through a back entrance, they crept down a dark stairwell, and
found themselves amidst the phone lines, where telecom technicians once did
macrame with the wires, and installed line-noise generators.
In the middle of the basement, a transport module lay beside a gaping hole
in the floor.
After they had gotten into the module, Donatello studied the controls, and
engaged the auto-pilot. The module sealed itself, shook violently, and began
drilling down to the technodrome.
---------------
In the technodrome, Shredder was alone, looking through the bars of a huge
jail cell that stood at one end of a vast computer complex. The cell held all
the SysOps Shredder had "collected", as well as a few ex-SysOps that the
Sysopometer had stilled homed in on; Cefiar Channadrac, Lance Link, The
Alien, Night Stalker, Craig Bowen, Bruce Wayne, The Masked Avenger, and
Captain Kirk.
Krang entered the room, and walked up behind Shredder.
"Admiring the trophies, Shredder?"
"Yes, did you get their passwords?"
"Yes", said Krang, gleefully, "things have been going good today. I even
worked out what I should do with those AMF morons."
"Oh, what's that?"
"I had a few of them `volunteer' for my famous mutagen experiments. I doused
Rishi Mehra with mutagen after he'd come in contact with a sea-slug."
"That must have produced something interesting!"
"Well actually, nothing happened! I had a little success on Peter Ham
though."
Shredder turned and looking at the array of computers that took up most of
the room. "Have you connected with all these SysOps' boards yet?"
"Not quite, Doodz Domain is still engaged. When we're connected to all of
them I'll start distributing the virus."
"I sure hope this scheme works, Krang! I've checked the power levels, and we
can forget drilling back to New York unless we get some serious energy."
"Don't worry Shredder, by this time next week Melbourne will be humbling
itself at our feet."
"Want to recheck that schedule?" It was Leonardo.
"The Turtles!", gasped Shredder, spinning around, "and Splinter, my sworn
enemy! I'll flay the lot of you!"
"Noooo, Shredder", said Krang, holding him back, "let's try some mutant power
on them."
"We're not going to let Bebop and Rocksteady get beaten up again?"
"Noooo... let's try something else. Peter Ham, GET IN HERE!"
A side door slid open, and Donatello gasped. "Yikes, who or what is THAT!"
Peter Ham, once human (?), was now basically reptiloid: a greenish skin with
the suggestion of scales and a tail, with several flaps of green-grey skin
hanging down around his neck. As he stepped forward, hissing, Krang explained
like a museum curator, "I thought since we were in Australia I might
experiment with the local fauna. Chlamydosaurus Kingii. Peter Ham is now half
frilled-neck lizard!"
"How ironic", smirked Shredder, "the turtles are going to be destroyed by a
distant reptile relative!"
"Peter!", Krang shouted, "Sick 'em!"
Donatello stepped towards Peter Ham, with his bo raised ready. Rasping, Peter
lunged forward and cut the bo in two. Donatello looked surprised and worried
simultaneously, and flipped back as Michaelangelo took the offensive and
began battering the half-lizard with his 'chaks.
Meanwhile, Raphael and Splinter kept Shredder busy, but made sure they were
never in range of Shredder's blades, for they knew how developed his fighting
skills were.
"Shredder, behind you!", wailed Krang.
Shredder turned to see Leonardo use his katana to break the lock on SysOps'
cell. Flinging the door open, he shouted, "All of you, out, and get ready to
run!"
Shredder went towards Leonardo, momentarily forgetting about Raphael and
Splinter. Raphael leapt and kicked Shredder in the small of the back, sending
him flying into Krang.
"You're getting sloppy, Shredder", said Raphael, "perhaps you'd better stick
to doing Ryobi commercials."
As the two tyrants picked themselves up, Leonardo shouted to Michaelangelo
and Donatello, "Hey, you guys, let's wrap this up!"
Donatello nimbly ducked down behind Peter Ham, and as Michaelangelo shoved
the mutant hard, he fell back over Donatello and onto one of the computers.
As Donatello and Michaelangelo ran for the exit, where Raphael, Leonardo, and
Splinter were hurrying along the SysOps, the computer console Peter had
landed on sparked and a sheet of flame burst through the vents along the
back. A monitor cracked open, and smoke poured forth. An unhealthy crackling
issued from the computers, and began getting louder.
"Quickly Krang", shouted Shredder, "the disk with the virus on it,
save the disk, it's the only copy!"
"Forget the disk!", screamed Krang, pushing Shredder out of the room, "just
run, it's going to go up!"
Peter Ham was left alone in the room, confused, and looking at the two exits
at opposite ends of the room, which had been used respectively by Splinter,
the turtles, and the SysOps; and Krang and Shredder.
As the computers around him exploded into countless fiery shards of metal,
Peter Ham's volume increased sharply and he expired. His last thought was
disappointment that the greatest sexual experience in his life was perving
at the ads for Escort Agencies in the Yellow Pages.
---------------
Since they couldn't possibly all fit in the transport module, the escapees
found one of the technodrome's hatches, and now watched from an enormous
subterranean cavern as the technodrome's turbines started up and it began to
bore it's way through the Earth's crust in a southerly direction.
As it disappeared into the inky blackness, Splinter sighed, "We may not have
won the war, but at least we won the battle."
"Yeah", said Raphael, "we saved Melbourne's SysOps."
"And his virus is gone for good", added Donatello.
Michaelangelo peered up the borehole that led to the Telecom Exchange
basement, "Like, I hope you SysOp dudes are good at climbing!"
---------------
Later that day, the turtles and Splinter made their goodbyes. Fred and Syn,
who had tagged along, were seeing them off as they climbed down a storm
drain.
"It'll take a bit of time to accumulate the stuff we need, but eventually
we'll build a cosy little lair somewhere in Melbourne's sewers", explained
Raphael, as he and Donatello disappeared down the tunnel.
"See ya then", said Fred, "just watch out for any nosy Hinch reporters doing
Sludge Files down there."
"Will do", said Leonardo, following Splinter and Michaelangelo into the pipe.
Fred replaced the cover on the storm drain, as Syn sobbed, "You know Fred,
I'm really going to miss them. Especially the four turtles."
"Why's that, Syn?"
"Well (sniff), they're the only people I've ever met who've actually LIKED
my cheesecake!"
--- The End ---
+----------------------------------------------------------------+
--------------------
ANARCHISTIC SPORTS
--------------------
By Lightening Bolt
I had been looking towards this month's assignment with a certain amount of
anxiety. I mean how often does the normal person get sent into the depths of
the steamy Amazon to watch Cefiar jerk off.
But, never the less, I am a professional, and when duty calls I answer.
The day was like the past four I had spent on the trail. The air was so humid
you could bottle it, the sky was hidden behind the canopy of tropical ferns,
which in turn were hidden behind the swarms of mosquitos, and other vicious,
biting, stinging and annoying insects.
My guide was an amazingly gorgeous amazonian woman. Her long, sensuous
legs appeared to continue beyond the strategically placed leaves which were
obviously there to frustrate me. As I adjusted my pith helmet, I could feel
the pounding in my loins. I was counting the hours until autumn!
We slashed away at the infernal jungle. This place was hell! I could feel
thirst scratching away at my throat, and vital fluids pouring from my body.
I could have died of thirst had I not found my bottle opener!
As I sipped on a particularly warm bottle of Dom Perinion (1974 is not at
it's best served warm) I spotted something which aroused my curiosity.
A young native girl, her face contorted in horror, ran into my butler
screaming something about the Head Shrinkers going mad. I knew I was on the
trail of a major story here, so we plodded onward into what seemed imminent
danger and probably a slow, painful death.
As my party arrived at a clearing in the jungle, we were surprised to
discover our goal. It was Cefiar. But, to our horror we saw that he was tied
to a totem pole, naked!
I felt sure that this scene was what the young native girl was escaping. Some
depraved mind had devised this inhumane torture for that poor sysop. After
my initial moment of hesitation, I knew, as revolting as he was, Cefiar
deserved to be saved, so I paused to examine the situation in detail.
On the far end of the clearing was a small hut made from the large tropical
tree leaves found around here. To the right of the hut were the remains of
a large fire from the night before. In the middle of the clearing Cefiar was
bound by woven vines to a totem pole in the shape of a grossly disfigured
phallus. He was tied facing pole, his bear buttocks facing the hut where I
guessed his captors were contemplating his fate.
It took every ounce of my will (and several ounces of marijuana which I'd
found on the way) to raise the courage to creep into the clearing. I crouched
behind the pole to which Cefiar was bound. With my trusty machete I carefully
cut his bindings and whispered "Your free!".
Cefiar turned to face me, and it was then I realised the full extent of the
madness of the Head Shrinkers obviously practising their perverted art on
Cefiar. Between his legs... it was terrible! Until now, I had thought The
Masked Avenger had a small dick, but poor Cefiar! A prick like that couldn't
even pop a balloon!
I looked him in the eyes, and with all the sympathy I could muster without
bursting into laughter I said "I'm sorry."
"Well so you bloody well should be!" Cefiar replied. "Isn't anyone allowed
one little sexual fantasy? OK, so now it's out... I like being tied up and...
things! Now go away and leave me and Gungadin alone!"
I stood there for a minute contemplating the scene. As I stood there, a
native emerged from the leaf hut. If he'd had the same skin colour, the same
facial features and was about 4 inches taller I would have sworn it was John
Holmes.
Realisation came quickly, and I promptly left.
Next month I have been assigned a Top Secret assignment. So I can't say that
I'll be getting the low down on The Masked Avenger!
OTHER RESULTS THIS MONTH
------------------------
Card Killing: Fearless Fred 1
Raster Bite 0
Womanising: Fearless Fred 1
Masked Avenger 1
Cefiar 0
Tasha 5
Vagabond 1
[At long last! -Ed]
Riding Trojan Horses: Da Wombat 1
Making Little Wombats: Anudda Wombat 1
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
----------------------
THIS EDITIONS AWARDS
----------------------
HOON OF THE MONTH......................................... The Mentat
As if the Met needed that tram anyway?
HOON OF THE YEAR.......................................... The Mentat
You should have insured the BMW!
CARD KILLER OF THE MONTH.................................. Fearless Fred
We're talking PCOX cards, not phreaky type cards!
BULLY OF THE MONTH........................................ Melissa
That poor guy you beat up in front of his girlfriend!
SYSOP OF THE MONTH........................................ NOT AWARDED
SLACK BASTARD OF THE MONTH................................ Masky
[He was suppose to write this edition. -Ed]
PISSPOT OF THE MONTH...................................... Limmy
[He outdrinks me! - Ed]
SLACK SYSOP OF THE MONTH.................................. Fearless Fred
I'M BACK AND BITING AWARD................................. The Alien
MORNING SICKNESS AWARD.................................... Anudda Wombat
TURTLE FAN OF THE MONTH................................... Raphael Turtle
I CAN'T THINK OF ANY AWARDS THIS MONTH AWARD.............. Ed
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
-----------------------
QUOTES FOR THIS MONTH
-----------------------
Fred: "You sucked it out?"
Masked Avenger: "Yeah! I sucked it out. It was great!"
Fire Fox: "Has anyone told you you're a bastard?"
Masked Avenger: "It's the only way to be."
Fred: "How big's your ass-hole Masky?"
Masked Avenger: "NINE FEET!"
Fifth Dimension: "Thanks to Masky for showing me that there is
a bigger ass-hole in the world than me."
Lonni: "He'll get it in the end."
Disk Destroyer: "If you ever do what you did to me this morning..."
Pete Mitchel: "I will."
Natalia: "I will."
Raphael Turtle: "More uncomfortable than painful."
Raphael Turtle: "It was quite an interesting experience in some ways."
Masked Avenger: "Only on weekends."
Disk Destroyer: "Don't turn the light on!"
Night Stalker: "Who's MY best man?"
Disk Destroyer: "Don't! Don't try that again."
Disk Destroyer: "I can do anything I like."
Night Stalker: "There's too much violence in the world. There should
be love & peace..."
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
------------------
CONGRATULATIONS!
------------------
Congratulations to Craig (Pete Mitchel) and Natalie (Natalia)
who were married on the 17th February 1990.
The first (to our knowledge) people married after meeting
through the bulletin boards (Twilite Zone and Time Warp).
They were last seen interfacing on the way to the bridal suite.
We suspect Craig's hard disk was destined for a head crash after
Natalie was sending bytes to his serial part, port sorry.
[NOT PUNNY, I KNOW - Ed]
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
-----------------------
OTHER GOOD PUBLICATIONS
-----------------------
If you like reading garbage like this you should try reading...
THE RAT PHILES
by
/{ V V V V
|o |__I_I________I_I
U\__________________\_____
T h e D e a d R a t S o c i e t y
[Not as good as the original though -Ed]
[Of course T.D.R.S. is not a Turtle endorsed organisation.]
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
======================
The Evil Angels Team
======================
At present the Evil Angels Team consists of the following:
Founder: The Masked Avenger
Editor: Fearless Fred (AKA Lightning Bolt)
Authors: Fearless Fred
Raphael Turtle
Zorro (AKA Raster Bite) [Didn't get anything
for this issue! -Ed]
{new authors always welcome}
Ex-Author: Avalon ..
Programmer: Vagabond
(BSF Boys) Raphael Turtle
Fearless Fred
Da Wombat [Well, he says he'll do some
Pascal programming. -Ed]
Honorary
Members: Thelonius Monk The Lensman
Eliminator Death Man
Nixx SYN ...
Disk Destroyer Ivan Trotsky
Sprite
Favourite People: Taxi Cab Raster Blaster Captain Chaos
(to hassle) Simply Sparks Fire Fox Vagabond
SYN ... Masked Avenger Disk Destroyer
Lensman Royna Eliminator
Bigf00t Rishi Mehra
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 PI Video $25.00
Evil Angels T-Shirts $15.00
Printed Versions of Anarchistic Tendencies Parts 1-15: $45.00
Donations and Payments can be sent To Fred or Masky
P.O. Box 528,
Mulgrave North, 3170.
Make cheques payable to CASH.
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
____________________________________________________________________
\ /
\ T E E N A G E M U T A N T N I N J A /
\______________________________________________________________/
________ __ __ _______ ________ __ ______ ____
/ _| | | | | | \ | | | | | ___| / \
\__ _/ | | | | | ,--, | |__ __| | | | |___ \_ |\/
\ \ \ | | | | |,-' ,/ | | | |___ | ___| _ \ \
\ \ | `--' / | |\ \ | | | | | |___ / \/ |
\_/ \______/ |__| \___\ |__| |______| |______| \____/
|\
M E E T I N G : | \
| \ Provisional Details:
__ |\ | |
\ \| |__________ | | August 18th, 1990.
`--,' \ | |
|\__________/| | | Meet in the City Square at 11am.
_|_ __ __ _|_ | |
/ \________/ \ | | Lunch at McDonalds or Hungry Jacks.
| __ __ | | |
| ===\ /=== | | | Movie at Viliage Centre, 206 Bourke St.
_/`-----\______/-----'\| |
/ \__ ======== Cost: $5.50 if you can confirm your place
| `--,_ ______,-,/_|__| by E-Mailing Fearless Fred on the
\__ / | | | _____) Twilite Zone (878-3539) no later
| `--,_/ |______|_|______) than the 11th August.
| ----' (|__| \
(\_________||______ (_____ |
|\_________________ (______/ Dress: Wear Bandanas!
\ || |__|
|\_________||_________/, Talk: End each sentence with "Dude",
| _ _ |___ "COWABUNGA!" or "PIZZA!"
\ / \/ \_ / \_
| / \___ / _/\
|_____| ---\__/ | This is an official Evil Angels
/ \ | | meeting, which means that for
\_____/ | '---, everyone that would like to meet
| | (___ --| Ford Prefect AKA Raphael Turtle,
| | `----' Fearless Fred, and the infamous
/ _ \ Dianne Nichols should attend!
(__/ \__)
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
Anarchistic Tendencies Part XIV
(C) March-July, 1990
File Size: 79,464 Bytes.
Time/Date Stamp: 31 July, 1990.
11:59 pm
No part of this file may be published in mass media without the author's
written permission, and half the authors don't know how to write. The other
half are usually drunk, at work or whatever, working on their sex lives,
sewer surfing, etc....
[THAT IS A ... WARNING! - Ed]
+------------------------------------------------------------------+
============
Disclaimer
============
The editor has 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 offence is intended towards any
person or persons no matter how often or in what context they or
anything to do with them is mentioned. And to Peter Laird, Kevin
Eastman, and Mark Freedman: please don't send Shredder around in
the night to remove various bodily organs!
TMNT, their pictures, likenesses etc etc are copyright stuff of
Mirage Studios. [All I'll admit to in a court of law is that I
almost copied the copyright warning -Ed]
+------------------------------------------------------------------+
Evil Angels Will Return With Anarchistic Tendencies XV
Days of ours Drives.
Like data through the phone lines, such are the Days of our Drives.
The continuing saga of BBS personalities.
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