158 lines
8.8 KiB
Plaintext
158 lines
8.8 KiB
Plaintext
Ü Ü Ü Mighty Issue #36
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Ü Ü Û Û Ü illicit "Road To Somewhere"
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Û ß Û Û Û ÛÛ Liquid -By whoops
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ß ß ß ß ß ß Kollections
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Ä Ä -ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
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The man slowly ambled his way down the winding road. The road forked, and
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the man stopped. "Now which way did Mom say to take.." he mused to himself. He
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spotted something sticking up behind a tree in the tongue of land between the
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two roads. After a close inspection, he saw that it was a piece of wood. He
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grasped it in his hands and tugged, but it was firmly lodged in a crack in the
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hard mud. He gathered all his strength and pullllllled.. and it came loose in
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his hand. He pulled so hard that he was thrown to the ground, and he sat there
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a moment, picking up the pieces of his thoughts from where they'd fallen. He
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looked at the piece of wood he held in his hand.
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"Take right, Fame and Fortune await.
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Take left, Chance Adventure and Fate."
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He wondered what it meant. "Fame and Fortune...hmmm," he mused to himself.
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"That sounds better than fate, maybe that's the way that Mom meant for me to
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go." He set out on the right path. He walked, and walked..and walked.. and
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moseyed..and meandered..and sidled..and jogged..and hopped...and ambled...and
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perambulated..and, to make a long story short.. <too late!> generally moved in
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one direction for a while. He walked for so long that his feet soon began to
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ache and moan, muttering nasty things about being trampled. He walked for
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hours without seeing a living soul.
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As he moseyed along, the path began to narrow. Finally, he came to a dead
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end in the road, and he looked around curiously. The road went nowehere. It
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stopped in front of him, with a large shrub blocking his way. He reached out
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to touch the shrub but hastily drew his hand away, for the shrub was a
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shocking sight (and touch,too). He glanced at the bushes around him, and his
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eyes passed over a patch of white. He peered through the bush at the patch of
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white. Suddenly the leaves rustled, and a figure popped out of the shrub.
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"Hello," it said. "I'm Glorie." The man looked at her. She was a foot taller
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than him, and he was no midget himself. She had wild hair, almost completely
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black, but with a streak of burnt sienna in the middle. It looked like a fiery
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ember trailing down the center. Her hair poured down her back and spilled
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halfway to her feet. She was dressed in all white. She spoke again. "Tell me
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the answer to this riddle, and I can show you where you are to go."
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"My first is the first of First,
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Next comes the beginning of the Afterlife.
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Followed on by the start of Myself,
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Finished with the end of Time."
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The man pondered this for a minute, and then answered. "Correct!" she
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said, a bright tone in her voice. "You can go on now. Hang a ralph." The man
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started to tell her that there was no road going right; after all, the road
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had already ended. But then he looked at the right, and there was a perfectly
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paved road leading on. What a mircle. Well, he should expect that with his
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Father. He thanked her and continued on his way. Presently he came to a tall
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statue that was lying in the middle of the road. He tried to pass it, but it
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rose up and extended an appendage. "Stop," it commanded in a deep bear-a-tone.
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"PhootyNacho must have an answer to this:
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The start of the finish is my first.
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Nothing is my second.
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My third forms 'to be' for you,
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My fourth a cross is reckoned.
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My fifth is you yourself,
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My sixth is the middle of the end,
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My seventh is the beginning of the end."
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The man answered correctly, earning an appreciative look from the hunk o'
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wood. "Clever, pal. Go west, young man. Go back to the fork and take the other
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way. This is not the way for you." By now, the man was getting used to things,
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and he looked up and gee-whilikers, there he was at the original fork in the
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road. But the statue was gone. He looked at the sign that lay in the road and
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mumbled, "...fate..." He wondered once more what the rest of the sign read.
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But, no matter, at least he knew which way to go this time. So he started
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along the left fork, putting one foot in front of the other, then the other,
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then the other, losing track of how many feet he had put in front of each
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other. He never had been very good at math. Presently he came to another fork.
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A small gnome rushed out from a nearby bush. He was short and stout and
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carried a brown leather sack on his back. He sprang up to meet the man's face
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and hurriedly shouted, "take a chance, damnit! answer it!" and then screamed:
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"A hundred is my first,
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The start of the heart comes next.
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Following is the beginning of the answer,
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Continued on by the end of men.
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A square of ten closes on,
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Concluding with the end of time and space."
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The man quickly shouted out the answer and the gnome excitedly sidled away
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to the bar that he had been partying at before. Whatever. The man looked again
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at the road, and found that the fork he had been at only seconds ago had
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disappeared, and instead there lay a long, straight road that led on up to the
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horizon. The man realized he had a while to go yet and decided to rest first,
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so he settled down on the grass beside the road and drifted off to sleep. Some
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time later he awoke to find himself in the midst of a great wood. He crawled
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to his feet, steadying himself against a nearby tree. He heard a giggling
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sound and the tree quivered beneath his touch. As he looked up, he saw the
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tree move and expand up into the sky. It stretched until its branches were as
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high as the sun. Then its trunk shimmered and a face appeared on it. It spoke.
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"Who are you? Oh, geez, Jess, it's been a while. You haven't visited your Dad
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in ages, you know," the tree said to the man. "But just in case it's not you,
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you gotta tell me this:
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Liturgical season before Christmas day,
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You are the next yourself,
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The second word of that second phrase,
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Conclude with the end of the meaning of life."
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The man thought about the riddle for a moment and then gave the correct
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response. The man sighed, mumbling, "I wish Dad didn't have that asshole enemy
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and didn't need all this protection, these riddles are getting harder and
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harder." The tree then reached out one of its long branches and pointed the
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way the man was to go, and the man sauntered along some more. He walked for a
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bit until he reached a pond in the middle of a clearing. Next to it was a
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large sign declaring "DRINK" in bold letters. He realized that with all this
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trekking he had developed a thirst, so he settled down next to it, cupped his
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hands, and drank from the cool clear water. His surroundings shimmered and
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changed until he was standing before a grand gate, encrusted with pearls and
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with spires of gold and white twisting around it. Several birds flew around
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the gate, which seemed to stretch for miles into the sky. The man walked up to
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the gate and demanded, "Let me in! Let me in, I say. Dad?" Suddenly a booming
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voice came from the top of the gate, "Who art thou? Answer this riddle first:
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Beginning of Far Reaching Life
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Beginning of the Answer
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Beginning of Time
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Beginning of the End."
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The man gathered his strenth and yelled up to the top of the gate, "Pete!
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Hey, Pete! Darn it! It's me, Remember? Didn't dad say I was coming? Mom's
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letting me stay the weekend. Let me in, will ya? I swear, sometimes I thin
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kit's really not worth it to visit Dad anymore." The booming voice replied (in
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a more docile tone) (if it is even possible for a booming voice to say
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anything in a docile tone), "Oh, Jesus. Oh sorry, Jese, Right away Jese!" and
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the gates silently swung open, obviously having received some WD-40 as an
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X-mas present.
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A great white being flew down from the sky and alighted nearby. "Oh,
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Jesus, I'm extremely sorry. I beg your pardon. We didn't expect you till
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afternoon."
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"Aw, that's all right, Pete. Don't worry about it. Mom was busy helping
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dad build some cabinets or something and she sent me early. Now how about you
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see to getting me a good strong cup of coffee? And tell Dad i'm here. There's
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a good angel."
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And St. Peter flew away.
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<The answers to the riddles can be found on the sign he found at the fork>
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Û Û [MiLK] Information
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Û Û
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Û Û [MiLK] Sites:
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Û Û
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Û Û The Obloid Sphere..........(708)965-3098 [14,400]
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Û²²²²²²²²²²²Û CUM........................(708)961-1220 [14,400]
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Û²²²²²²²²²²²Û
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Û²²²²²²²²²²²Û
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Û²²²²²²²²²²²Û
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Û²²²²²²²²²²²Û [MiLK] Issue #036, "Road to Somewhere" by whoops
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ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ This file is Exactly 8967 bytes long
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