1823 lines
66 KiB
Plaintext
1823 lines
66 KiB
Plaintext
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111111111 1111 1111
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111111111 11111
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January 1993
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----------------------------------------------------------------------
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The Print-Almost-Everything Fanzine
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for Public Access Remote Bulletin Board Systems of Australia
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----------------------------------------------------------------------
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FOUNDERS................................... Doc
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Avalon
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CHIEF EDITOR............................... Inka Princess
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PROOF READERS.............................. Ghost Who Walks
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Lachlan Maher
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Joseph Elkhorne
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FORMATTER.................................. Doc
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ARTWORK.................................... Elkor Cornelius
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Captain Kirk
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(although he doesn't know)
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Nikolai Kingsley
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THIS ISSUE'S CONTRIBUTORS.................. Inka Princess
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Dave Seikel
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Bungalow Hermit
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Tikva
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Doc
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Nikolai Kingsley
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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CONTENTS
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1. Stir Trek 4
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2. A Dictionary For The Novice Bulletin Board User
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3. Horror-scopes
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4. MacChucks!
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5. Understanding Computer Technology
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6. How To Be Green
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7. Santa Exposed!
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8. Awardz
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9. Rattitorial.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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New Wave liked his job as a ticket collector, bouncer, and all-purpose
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law enforcer for the Cawfeeld Nightspot* on Space-Port Alfalpha. He
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especially liked beating up people who tried to enter with sneakers on.
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* Readers are informed that no correlation was intended whatsoever with
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the Caulfield Nightspot near the Caulfield Hotel on the planet Earth,
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which incidentally also has a rather large, brutish bouncer who likes
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beating up anything wearing sneakers.
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A figure was approaching; making its way down the steamy, grime-
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ridden staircase from the busy street above. New Wave picked up his
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handy bludgeon, and stood across the doorway in his usual style.
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The footsteps stopped. In front of New Wave stood a tall dark-haired
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girl, wearing a bright red space-suit decorated with teddy-bears.
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In addition, a rather large, nasty phasor was slung around her hips.
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"Yer nit dinkin' of goin' in dere, arr ya girlie?", hissed New Wave,
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sensing it was one of those lovely occasions when he would have to get
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violent again.
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After all, she was wearing regulation Star Fleet sneakers.
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Without a moments hesitation, the dark-haired girl whipped out her
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phasor, and shot a bolt into the startled New Wave. He crumpled down
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and forward, groaning.
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For a moment, the world paused in shock.
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"You're lucky it was on stun." she informed the writhing figure on the
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ground.
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Replacing the phasor into the holster, Star Fleet Commander Brigitte
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entered the rowdy* night-club.
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* See - I told you there was no correlation.
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____________________________
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Ding
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Ping
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Dong
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Space.
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The Final Frontier.
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These are the voyages of the U.S.S.Egoprise,
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Her unceasing mission: to boldly go where no man (or woman, or Erk) has
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gone before; to hassle all high profile bulletin board users; to rip-
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off every sci-fi television series since 1960; and to seek new depths
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in amateur, D-grade humour.
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##### ###### #### #### ###### #### ##### ## ## ###
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## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ####
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## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## #### ## ##
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##### ## ## #### ## #### #### #### ########
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## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ##
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## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ##
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##### ## #### ## ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ##
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The Search For Brigitte (and other minor sub-plots)
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by Inka Princess and Doc
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. .. . .
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.
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___ ________________________________.
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___________.+===-+.____________ # O\\]] ] ] ] ] ] ] D#########/
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\_..._____ ..... _____.. || `~~~~##========== ~~~~~~~====
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~`~~|_|~~~|#.....\. / |==
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. \ .. .\. / _ / ' ..
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.. \ ____\. / //
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.. |: -----\__|_./_________
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. /.~......o ........./\ .
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):: .. ... . ./__' . .
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`\\. oooo ___'
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~_____----""~
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.
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.. . .
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starring various bulletin board users in cameo roles
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As you may recall from our last episode, Doctor McCoy (Doc)
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successfully escaped from Lachy's Prison Planet. However, his plans to
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regain World Dominance were short lived - the shuttle he was escaping
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in was raided by the three teenage space pirates. Yes, the infamous
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Super Boy, Handyman and Mr. Jordan.
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The space pirates had concocted an evil plan - to extract the knowledge
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of Ultimate Dominance from the brain of Doc, and thus obtain the
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ultimate power for themselves. Not surprisingly, this failed dismally.
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Mr Jordan, fearing the other two pirates were plotting against her,
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took them hostage and proceeded to the planet Earth.
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Meanwhile, the crew of the U.S.S.Egoprise were alerted to the news of
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the escaping Doctor McCoy. Doc's deserted shuttle was found. While
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searching the abandoned craft, Nurse Chapel located a vital clue: a
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fragment from Mr. Jordan's leg plaster. Soon Kirk and the gang were
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hot on the trail of the pirates.
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Back on Earth, Doc was able to locate the religiously insignificant
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lost Temple Of Doccism. Inside, the sacred Tablets of Elkor were
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uncovered, which held the secret of Ultimate Dominance. But before
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Doc could interpret them, Captain Kirk and the Stir Trek gang arrived
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on the scene, revealing themselves to be Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
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in disguise. The three pirates escaped, pursued by the Turtles. Doc was
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finally left alone, to clean up the rubble of his ruined temple and
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crumbling religion.
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Meanwhile, Star Fleet Commander Brigitte had set off on her own
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mission: to find a man who believed in true love - and had a body to
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match. Poor Matty was left with a shuttle he could not control, and
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crashed on The Prison Planet, where he met up with Lachy the
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Psychedelic Prison Guard.
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And so our story continues...
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____________________________
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Of all the places Pennywise had to deliver pizzas to, this floating
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sewer tanker was the worst. It was slow. The air locks were primitive.
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It stank of stale pizza.
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Standing in front of a steaming grate, which Pennywise could only
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assume was the entrance into the cabin, he dreamed of the cute chef
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back on Planet Dial-A-Dino.
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"Who ordered the double peanut butter and coleslaw pizza!", he yelled,
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impatiently.
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Still no buyers. Pausing, Pennywise peered into the grate and saw...
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____________________________
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Splinter (Ghost Who Walks) wavered on his cushion, and sniffed the
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smoldering incense about him. In front sat four Ninja Turtles, paying
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as much undivided attention as Ninja Turtles ever could.
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First there is Raphael Sulu (General Discomfort/Yuen Ho), the Star
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Fleet programmer extraordinaire, whose Ninja skills can beat any
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QuickBasic programmer.
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Then there is Donatella Inka (Inka Princess/Sandy Turner), once the
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always smiling, efficient and loyal nurse to Doctor McCoy, now a lean
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green fighting heroine.
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Next to Donatella sits Leonardo Spock (Zodiac Mindwarp/Gordon Walker),
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whose own vulcanism is now quite difficult to recognize. Especially
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since turtles have holes for ears. At least he was still green.
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And finally there is Michaelangelo Kirk (Laserbrain/Rob Judd), who gave
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up a promising career in Star Fleet to lead the Turtles.
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Splinter surveyed his students for effect. "Still, you must fight on ."
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he told them. "For evil still remains in this world."
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Young Leonardo Spock questioned the old rat. "But Sansei Master, our
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lives would become meaningless if the world was all good and evil had
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been eradicated."
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Splinter reflected.
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"Shadup!" hissed Splinter, "Don't question the teachings of Ninjahpoo!"
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"Now, gather round turtles... and let us meditate together."
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Splinter began some rather nauseating nasal sounds.
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"Hanky ? " offered Nurse Donatella Inka.
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Splinter thanked Donatella, cleared his nose, and started again.
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"Let us unite our Turtle Power, so we may obtain the knowledge we seek:
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the location of the evil Space Pirates and that dreaded Doc McCoy..."
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Nurse Donatella Inka, Leonardo Spock, Raphael Sulu, and Michaelangelo
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Kirk held hands like children and hummed together.
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The transcendental moment lasted less than a second. Raphael Sulu's
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nose caught a whiff of that double peanut butter and coleslaw pizza,
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and he shot like a magnet to the grate above.
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"PIZZA ! " the four turtles cried.
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"EEEEEK !" cried Pennywise, as he sped out of the sewer tanker air-lock
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and careered into his Dino-Scooter.
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"What was THAT !" exclaimed Michaelangelo Kirk.
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"It's the space pirates ! It's the space pirates !" shrieked Raphael
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Sulu, eager for another fight.
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"Sick'em !" added Splinter, and the four Stir Trek Turtles raced out
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after the fleeing Dial-A-Dino delivery person.
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____________________________
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.. .
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. . .. .
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. . ____
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.. . /###/
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/#__#|
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. /# / #| ..
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. . /# ./--|
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. /# / #|
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_____________________________________./#.------o__/\ .
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_._/_) |______|________|_______|_______| ( |..\\\
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__/ |-------------------------------| "--------"" [
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. _-o|--| o .. == = _ == DeLorean mkII |__|_ #oo|[
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[ oo | |__|___________________________| ... __""|[
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~~~~-+----------------(___(___(___(___(___(___(__|~~~~~~~~---' . .
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. .. .
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. .
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. . .
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____________________________
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Meanwhile, the now familiar rust-pitted DeLorean was speeding through
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the void of space.
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"Lets stop for some MacGalacticDonalds!", suggested Mr Jordan.
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"Hey what a dooooody idea!", added Handyman, as he popped open his
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seventh Coke for the day.
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Superboy responded by slamming the DeLorean into reverse, and left a
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delightful set of space-tracks in the direction of SpacePort Alfalpha.
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____________________________
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Matty and Lachy were nearly thrown out of their seats as their Star
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Fleet vessel rocketed and lurched all over the place.
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"Warp Factor seven!" cried Matty, staring in disbelief at his laser-
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beam speed camera. The space-dust from the path of the speeding
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DeLorean began to break up as the thunder subsided.
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"Huh ?" questioned Lachy, who was still trying to come to grips with
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the control panel of the Star Fleet vessel.
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"That DeLorean was doing Warp Factor seven! That's illegal! The speed
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limit here is no more than Warp Factor three."
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"Do we chase 'em ?" asked Lachy.
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"Nah." replied Matty. "It'll only be a bunch of idiot hoons out for a
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Saturday night spin.... The Lygon Street Hyperbypass Squad will get
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them. Just keep tracking that red Jaguar Shuttle."
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"I think it's landed somewhere." offered Lachy. "It hasn't moved from
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that sector for at least a minute."
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"Ok, lets go for it!", cried Matty, as he expertly applied the
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accelerator. Those driving lessons with Bruce Wayne were certainly
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paying off.
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As the duo stared out of the cockpit window into the deep reaches of
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interstellar space, Lachy asked, "Mind if I re-decorate the shuttle's
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lounge while we wait?"
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----------------------------
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The three space pirates made their way out of the Shuttle Bat, and
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stood before the busy Alfalpha Space Port Metropolis.
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"Wooaaah!", echoed Handyman. "This place is a dump."
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"Shit yeah!", added Jordy. "Look, even the pedestrians have been
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graffitied!"
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Supes laughed. "More like Lachy Maher has opened a fashion boutique
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here!"
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"No MacGalacticChucks...", sobbed Handyman.
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Superboy surveyed the busy street. "Hey folks.. look.. a Cafe!"
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"Nahh!", answered Handyman. "You know what sort of BBS-user scum hang
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around those sort of places!"
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"How about that little bistro over there..", suggested Jordy, pointed
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to a flashing neon sign above a set of stairs.
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"Cawfeeld Bistro And Nightspot. What sort of a place is that?", asked
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Superboy.
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"I dunno," said Handyman, "but I've got some strange feeling we're
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going to find our destinies in there.."
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"Hey!", said the startled Superboy, "How perceptive of you, Handy!"
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"Not really..", Handyman mumbled. "I think its more to do with the fact
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that there is this really big sign above it written by the author that
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reads 'GO HERE OR LOSE YOUR PARTS IN THE STORY'.."
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And so the three space pirates decided to grab some dinner at the
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Cawfeeld Bistro.
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____________________________
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"Waddya mean, you don't serve dinner after 6 p.m.?", taunted Superboy.
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"What is this, Melbourne or something?"
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"I'm sorry sirh, " apologized the waitress, Amy Morris, "but perhaps
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you might be interested in some chips and peanuts from the Nightclub
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next door.."
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And so the three very hungry space pirates entered the Cawfeeld
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Nightspot, to be greeted with really cheap neon lights, a lambada
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dancer with eels down his back, and a lot of weird looking people who
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could only be adequately described as "the BBS users who don't even
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turn up to the meets."
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A few tables away...
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____________________________
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Star Fleet Commander Brigitte stared philosophically into her cocktail.
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Across from her sat Doc, who was trying to convince her to come along
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to a church session for his brand new religion.
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"You'll be spiritually enlightened!", he exclaimed, in that all-too-
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familiar air of enthusiasm that religious fanatics seem to be able to
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dig up even after the greatest setbacks.
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"The spirits here are good enough for me.", she replied, sighing deeply
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into her alcoholic cordial. She would never find true love in a dumb,
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sleazy nightclub like this. And with that she took another swig of the
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rapidly emptying cocktail.
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"Haven't you ever wondered about why you're here? About your purpose
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in life? Meaning? Like, don't you find this common existence in reality
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just unsatisfying? Like.. I could show you things beyond this pitiful
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destiny you seek.. I could make you into a shining bright star!"
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"Star?", thought Brigitte. "You mean I could be like Bridget Bardot or
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something?"
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"Even better !" cried Doc. "You could be a major character in a RAT
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series!"
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"Nahhh", sighed Brigitte. Such stardom was just too great.
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"Anyway," she said, "I thought you were stuck on some Juliff-forsaken
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planet in the Milky Way Galaxy looking for the long lost Temple of
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Doccism."
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"Yeah I was, then..", went on Doc, approaching motor-mouth speed with
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great ease, just like his idol and inspiration, Andrew the Avatar.
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"When we reached the temple I..."
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____________________________
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"I hope you're right this time, Raphael!", grunted Michaelangelo Kirk,
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as the four Turtles lumbered down a set of dark, grime-ridden stairs
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outside the Cawfeeld Nightspot.
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"Truuuust me!", replied Raphael Sulu. "Have my Turbo Prolog artificial
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intelligence persona predication programs ever failed in the past???
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C'mon.. Doc has to be in here!"
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"And wez d'ya dink yours goin'?", greeted New Wave. He giggled,
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noticing the strange Turtle features of the four. "To a drag-net meet
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p'haps?"
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"I'll handle this.", said Michaelangelo Kirk, in the usual egotistical
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authoritarian Star Fleet Commander way. "As a Star Fleet officer of the
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United Federation of Planets, Stars and Other Orbiting Bodies, I
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request that you step aside and allow us to enter this dwelling."
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New Wave's eyes lit up. This looked like fun, he thought to himself.
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"Well?", pestered Michaelangelo Kirk.
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New Wave didn't bother to reply. He picked up his handy bludgeon and
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tapped it a few times into his grubby palm.
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____________________________
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"Waiter!", cried Superboy across the room, "Could you do something
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about that noise outside? I can't even hear myself bullshit."
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"Pity.", said Mr. Jordan under her breath. Handyman giggled, popped a
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few peanuts into his mouth and followed with a swig of Coke.
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[Spot the subliminal! -Ed]
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"Now..", said Superboy, returning to the conversation around the table.
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"First, we need a new space ship. We can't obtain total and utter power
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and dominance over all living things in that rust-pitted travelling
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road-accident."
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|
|
"But..but..but..", said Handyman. "I like the DeLorean!"
|
|
|
|
"No buts.", replied Superboy. "Anyway, I hate doing it that way, it's
|
|
so messy."
|
|
|
|
"And where do you think we going to get a better ship?", asked Jordy.
|
|
"We don't have two space-bucks to rub together."
|
|
|
|
"What are we, holier-than-thou-space-pirates or something??", cried
|
|
Superboy. "We steal one!"
|
|
|
|
At that moment in time, the noise outside finally ceased, and into the
|
|
nightclub entered four green, black and blue turtles.
|
|
|
|
"Hmm...", thought Superboy. "And I know exactly where to find one."
|
|
|
|
|
|
____________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Two beers, a Murumbidgee Muddy, and a Diet-Coke for the lady, thanks."
|
|
said Michaelangelo Kirk, positioning himself comfortably in front of
|
|
the bar.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry, we don't serve turtles here." said the barman, Gnomie.
|
|
|
|
"So ?" smirked Kirk, "I didn't ask for any."
|
|
|
|
|
|
----------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
Matty and Lachy trundled through the dark, concrete Alfalpha Port
|
|
shuttle bay. "There it is!", said Lachy, pointing to a badly parked red
|
|
space-Jaguar to the far left. The occupant was, to their dismay, long
|
|
gone.
|
|
|
|
"We'll never find Brigitte on this Space-Port!", complained Lachy.
|
|
|
|
"Never say never!", replied Matty. "I must find her! If I don't - and
|
|
mummy finds out she's left Star Fleet, I'll be in bigger-than-Zero-
|
|
Hour's-ego trouble !"
|
|
|
|
"Have you a problem?", spoke a faintly metallic voice from behind. The
|
|
duo spun around. No one was there.
|
|
|
|
"Who said that?", snapped Matty, his voice echoing through the dark
|
|
shuttle bay.
|
|
|
|
"I did!", replied a large rectangular metal box not far away. It was
|
|
a vending machine of some sort, one of those classic devices you meet
|
|
in Douglas Adams books, where the vending machine actually talks to
|
|
you and attempts to sway the unwilling customer into parting with a
|
|
few space-bucks for a high-caloried comestible.
|
|
|
|
"Hey, its a Serious Cybernetics Mark IV!", exclaimed Lachy. "I've never
|
|
talked to one of them before."
|
|
|
|
"Wadja selling?", asked Matty, toying with the machine.
|
|
|
|
"Flavoured edible condoms."
|
|
|
|
"No thanks.", said Matty. "I've already eaten."
|
|
|
|
|
|
----------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
Soon Matty and Lachy discovered the nightclub.
|
|
|
|
"You call'in dem shoez?", grunted New Wave, tapping his bludgeon into
|
|
his palm ever so slightly.
|
|
|
|
"Why, I picked them up on sale at Coles Bargain Basement!", exclaimed
|
|
Matty.
|
|
|
|
"And ya call zat a shirt?", New Wave laughed at Lachy. "It looks more
|
|
like a road accident."
|
|
|
|
Lachy was insulted. "I quite like this shirt. It matches my fish tie.
|
|
See?"
|
|
|
|
New Wave, who was a little short sighted, peered closer at Lachy's tie.
|
|
Quickly Lachy reached for the button in his trousers, and turned the
|
|
Tie Intensity Factor up to full.
|
|
|
|
"Nargggghh!", cried New Wave, blinded by the bright pink, purple and
|
|
gold colours. He staggered back against the wall, momentarily blinded.
|
|
|
|
"Good thinking!", encouraged Matty, as the two ducked into the
|
|
nightclub.
|
|
|
|
|
|
----------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
Matty scanned the nightclub. Then he saw her.
|
|
|
|
"Brigitte!", he cried, and rushed to her table.
|
|
|
|
"Uh oh!", shrieked Brigitte, as she dropped her cocktail and dashed off
|
|
to the 'Ladies'.
|
|
|
|
Matty and Lachy waited outside the toilet door.
|
|
|
|
"She'll have to come out.", Lachy assured the impatient Matty. "How
|
|
long can a girl stay in there?"
|
|
|
|
"Bloody long!" cried a row of men in unison, who were all lined up
|
|
outside the toilet door waiting for their dates.
|
|
|
|
|
|
----------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
Unbeknown to all the men waiting outside, a secret passage led from
|
|
inside the toilets to a narrow street behind the nightclub. It was
|
|
built by the many women patrons of the nightclub, who desperately
|
|
wanted to escape their extremely boring and dull dates back inside the
|
|
nightclub.
|
|
|
|
|
|
____________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
It wasn't long before the Ninja Turtles discovered they weren't the
|
|
only major characters from a RAT series who were present at the
|
|
nightclub.
|
|
|
|
|
|
"RIGHT!", declared Michaelangelo Kirk, raising his ninja sword. "Dudes,
|
|
get those suckas!"
|
|
|
|
Handy, Supes and Jordy sprung up in surprise. "Shit!", they cried in
|
|
unison.
|
|
|
|
Raphael Sulu leaped towards Superboy, thrashing his sais. "At last we
|
|
have you and the time has come! Prepare to die, you space pirate scum."
|
|
|
|
Supes jumped backwards, and upturned a table in front of Raphael. "Such
|
|
mighty words from something so Keen. It's enough to turn me green!"
|
|
|
|
Donatella Inka reached for her Ninja star, and twirled it towards Mr.
|
|
Jordan. She ducked, and cried back, "Har-har! Inka, it appears your
|
|
Ninja star, although it travelled so very far, has missed me by several
|
|
feet, and landed in a vacant seat!"
|
|
|
|
"Curses..", swore Donatella. "Come back little girl, I want to give my
|
|
numchukas a whirl!"
|
|
|
|
Michaelangelo Kirk saw Handyman reaching for a bottle from behind the
|
|
bar. "I wouldn't try that old trick. Our turtle shells are solid as a
|
|
brick!"
|
|
|
|
Handyman saw Michaelangelo coming, and jumped onto the bar, shouting
|
|
"It's not a weapon of war. It's another Coke, I'm up to twenty four!"
|
|
|
|
Leonardo Spock came charging from behind, and shoved Handyman off the
|
|
bar, before crashing into a crowd of on-lookers.
|
|
|
|
The barman, Gnomie, cried out from under the stack of struggling
|
|
people. "Off my leg, you great big galoot! If I was manager, I'd give
|
|
you the boot!"
|
|
|
|
The reply was quick, from Amy Morris the waitress. "Don't call me a
|
|
galoot, you little concrete gnome! Why don't you go back to your garden
|
|
home?!"
|
|
|
|
Jordy ducked between blows from Donatella Inka. "Hey we're outnumbered,
|
|
three to four! Quick guys, let's use the door!".
|
|
|
|
But it was too late; Donatella Inka stood in front of it.
|
|
|
|
Handyman called back, "Jordy, I'm not so rapt, it looks like we're
|
|
positively trapped!"
|
|
|
|
"Not yet!" replied Supes. "Lets do it Rock Hudson style - use the back
|
|
door in single file!".
|
|
|
|
The trio darted over the bar and out the back, pursued by four lean
|
|
green Turtles shouting "Kowabungles!".
|
|
|
|
|
|
----------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
The three pirates emerged onto the street. "Where now?", pestered
|
|
Handyman.
|
|
|
|
"I got an idea!", cried Supes. He dug into his pocket, and pulled out a
|
|
small plastic bag. He then sat down and quickly began blowing.
|
|
|
|
"What are you doing!?", cried Jordy.
|
|
|
|
"Watch...", said Supes between breaths, as the plastic bag began to
|
|
expand.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, its not one of those is it!", cried Jordy in disbelief. "Oh YUK!"
|
|
|
|
The bag expanded some more, and began to take the form of a blow-up
|
|
doll.
|
|
|
|
"How we gonna escape with that?", asked the worried Handyman.
|
|
|
|
Supes blew some more. Now the doll was twice the normal recommended
|
|
size. It began to rise. Now it was several metres wide.
|
|
|
|
"Hang on!", cried Supes, as the doll began to lift into the air. The
|
|
trio reluctantly grabbed onto the balloon, and they eased off the
|
|
ground.
|
|
|
|
The four Turtles emerged from the nightclub. Leonardo Spock immediately
|
|
saw the balloon, now several hundred metres away.
|
|
|
|
"Quick - your ninja star!", cried Michaelangelo Kirk to Raphael Sulu.
|
|
|
|
Raphael Sulu pulled out a nice shiny star, and threw it towards the
|
|
hovering balloon. It struck, and a wheezing sound filled the air. The
|
|
balloon began to move swiftly under the pressure of the escaping air.
|
|
|
|
"Wooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!", cried the trio, as the balloon rocketed
|
|
over the city, and out of the sight of the cursing Turtles.
|
|
|
|
|
|
____________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
Back inside the nightclub, Admiral Plato was enjoying three days of
|
|
R&R, got up from under the table. He eyed a gorgeous bottle blonde at
|
|
the bar. He stood up, picked something out of his pocket and unwrapped
|
|
it a little, then walked over to the floozy.
|
|
|
|
"Say, would you like a Fruit Tingle?"
|
|
|
|
The girl looked up. "Huh? Oh, no thanks.."
|
|
|
|
"Ok then. Can I tingle your fruit instead?"
|
|
|
|
{Splash!}
|
|
|
|
|
|
____________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Why did you bring us here?", asked Handy, as the trio paused to catch
|
|
their breath outside the Shuttle Bay service booth.
|
|
|
|
Superboy pressed the buzzer several times impatiently.
|
|
|
|
"Yerrrs??", came the reply from inside. A funny looking face appeared
|
|
in the booth window.
|
|
|
|
"Eeek! It's Dave Bowman. What are you doing here?", asked Supes in
|
|
surprise.
|
|
|
|
"Parking shuttles, what else would I be doing ?" replied Dave.
|
|
|
|
"Thats not original." pointed out Jordy, an obvious fan of Douglas
|
|
Adams.
|
|
|
|
"No, but would he sue a RAT magazine ?" asked Dave, rhetorically.
|
|
|
|
"Reminds me of a certain other RAT star who intended to sue us, "
|
|
commented Supes. "A Mr. Ampersand I believe!"
|
|
|
|
"Anyway," said Dave, "what can I do you for?"
|
|
|
|
"Theft. Destruction of private property. Assault. Felony. Bad jokes."
|
|
replied Jordy, sighing. "The works."
|
|
|
|
"By any chance, would you happen to have a Star Ship parked here ?"
|
|
questioned Supes.
|
|
|
|
"You're in luck !" said Dave, "One came in about an hour ago. The
|
|
U.S.S.Egoprise."
|
|
|
|
"Perfect !" exclaimed Superboy. "Which way?"
|
|
|
|
"Third turbo lift on your right. Fifth level, three space ships past
|
|
the exit sign."
|
|
|
|
"Ta !" thanked Superboy, and the three pirates dashed off to the turbo
|
|
lifts.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Moments later, four green turtles came pounding down the cause-way, and
|
|
stopped at the booth.
|
|
|
|
"Did three teenage space pirates happen to come past this way ?" asked
|
|
Michaelangelo Kirk.
|
|
|
|
"None that I've seen." replied Dave Bowman, innocently.
|
|
|
|
Raphael Sulu tried to get Michaelangelo Kirk's attention.
|
|
|
|
"Hmm, " thought Kirk. "How about three teenage BBS users looking
|
|
vaguely like space pirates?"
|
|
|
|
"Nope." replied Dave again.
|
|
|
|
"Capt'n" began Raphael Sulu.
|
|
|
|
"Ok. How about three teenage BBS users looking decidely like characters
|
|
in a RAT series ?" tried Kirk.
|
|
|
|
"Hmmm. Possibly." hinted Dave.
|
|
|
|
"CAPTAIN !" cried Raphael Sulu.
|
|
|
|
Michaelangelo Kirk turned to Raphael.
|
|
|
|
"THE EGOPRISE !" yelled Raphael Sulu, pointing upwards to the glass
|
|
canopy over the shuttle bay. Through the tinted glass one could see the
|
|
myriad of glinting stars that made up the Milky Way galaxy, like city
|
|
lights on a clear night. And to the far right hand corner, the familiar
|
|
shape of the U.S.S. Egoprise was making its way into the distance.
|
|
|
|
|
|
____________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
The nightclub was almost empty now. Doc sat at his table, all alone.
|
|
Nobody wanted to listen to him anymore. It was very disheartening.
|
|
|
|
"This is where it all began." he sighed, swirling a cigarette infested
|
|
glass. "It was in this same nightclub, ten years ago... when I was a
|
|
young lad straight out of CyberYewni, trying to find followers
|
|
for my new religion, Doccism. And {sigh} I am here again, {double
|
|
sigh} and I have failed again. Nobody wants to follow me. {sob} Nobody
|
|
wants to listen to my teachings, my wisdom, my new-found enlighten-
|
|
ment. {mega sob} What ever shall I do ? Where-ever shall I go? They
|
|
won't even take me back into Star Fleet again, now that I'm an
|
|
outlawed space pirate..."
|
|
|
|
The alcohol had reached ultimate effect now, and Doc collapsed
|
|
hopelessly into the table.
|
|
|
|
Effortlessly New Wave approached, picked up the drunken slob, and
|
|
dumped him outside.
|
|
|
|
____________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The End Of Episode Four.
|
|
|
|
|
|
What will happen to Doctor McCoy now? Will his religion succeed, and
|
|
give Doc ultimate control over everything? Or will it fail again, and
|
|
world continue its decadent anarchistic existence?
|
|
|
|
Where will Brigitte go next? Will Matty ever find her again? And will
|
|
mummy find out? Will Lachy ever get some fashion sense? Will the
|
|
shuttle lounge ever look hospitable again?
|
|
|
|
And what about the space pirates? What will be their next calculating
|
|
move? And how much longer can they successfully evade the Stir Trek
|
|
Ninja Turtles? Will Admiral Plato ever get more than three lines?
|
|
|
|
What of child poverty? And the greenhouse effect? What effect will this
|
|
have on the Universe's economy? What colour eye shadow will Jana Wendt
|
|
wear next? Is Santa a paedophile? And what will happen when Hinch finds
|
|
out?
|
|
|
|
These questions and many others probably have very little chance of
|
|
being answered in the next episode, but go and read it anyway..
|
|
|
|
Stir Trek 5 : The Search For Literacy Skills.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
MERRY CHRISTMAS A.T.& T.
|
|
|
|
or.. "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"
|
|
|
|
by Gordon Walker
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
better !pout !cry
|
|
better watchout
|
|
lpr why
|
|
santa claus <north pole >town
|
|
|
|
cat /etc/passwd >list
|
|
ncheck list
|
|
ncheck list
|
|
cat list | grep naughty >nogiftlist
|
|
cat list | grep nice >giftlist
|
|
santa claus <north pole > town
|
|
|
|
who | grep sleeping
|
|
who | grep awake
|
|
who | egrep 'bad|good'
|
|
for (goodness sake) {
|
|
be good }
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
,===. ,===,
|
|
// `=='
|
|
//
|
|
((( || (((((((((((()
|
|
##.------. ##_-
|
|
_____## / \_____##____
|
|
(((---##--/ |---##-----)))
|
|
## / / ##_-_-
|
|
##- __/__ / ##_-_-
|
|
ppppp< V >pppppppp_-_-
|
|
_- //`-x x-'// _-_-
|
|
_- ((( |,/ ((( _-_-
|
|
_- (_) _-_-
|
|
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|-
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I'm not really that fond of cheese anyway."
|
|
|
|
-Nikolai Kinglsey
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
A DICTIONARY FOR THE NOVICE BULLETIN BOARD USER
|
|
|
|
|
|
by Inka Princess & Doc
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
chataholic (say ch-a-t'hol-ick) noun
|
|
someone who, unable to hold a substantial conversation in public, has
|
|
reduced their entire social interaction through late-night keyboard
|
|
conversation.
|
|
see also: cafe-user
|
|
|
|
chatattack (say chah-t-a'tack) noun
|
|
1. the accidental depression of the ALT and C keys on the SysOp's
|
|
keyboard resulting in several hours of erratic bursts of keyboard use
|
|
sometimes described as a regressive form of inter-communication.
|
|
2. a SysOp's devious way of telling you not to log-off yet.
|
|
|
|
download (say d-OW-n-l-OH-d) verb
|
|
unnecessary duplication of information. Excessive usage may cause
|
|
loss of memory.
|
|
|
|
late-night chataholic (lay-tt nye-tt chat-ah-hol-ick)
|
|
a strange, nocturnal creature that spends most of the night indulging
|
|
in the most uncivilized of rituals, chatting on a multi-lined ghetto-
|
|
style bulletin board system. Beyond the help of the most concerned
|
|
social worker. Sees less sunlight than a morlock.
|
|
|
|
leech (say l-eeeee-ch) noun
|
|
someone with a bigger hard-disc than they deserve.
|
|
|
|
megablob (say meh-ga-blob) noun
|
|
a mass of meaningless message.
|
|
see also: Lachlan Maher
|
|
|
|
page (say b-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-P!) verb
|
|
a 14 year old male Amiga user's mating call.
|
|
|
|
phlbbbbt! (say phlbbbbbt!) exclamation
|
|
go stick your head in a pig.
|
|
see also: raspberry
|
|
|
|
SysOp (say s-ih-s-oh-P!) noun
|
|
a crazed individual who thought spending several thousand dollars on
|
|
their personal computer system so that others could use it instead of
|
|
them was kind of a good idea.
|
|
|
|
shades (say shay-dz) noun
|
|
something you wear in the presence of Lachlan Maher.
|
|
see also: Shirt, Tie
|
|
|
|
Shirt (say sh-err-t) proper noun
|
|
something Lachlan Maher once wore to a barbecue, and now regrets.
|
|
|
|
Tie (say t-i) proper noun
|
|
something Lachlan Maher once wore to a party, and now regrets.
|
|
|
|
Volvo (say vul-va-oh!) noun (Swedish)
|
|
1. a big fat ugly imported car.
|
|
2. motorcyclists' nightmare.
|
|
usage: "I was run down by a Volvo."
|
|
|
|
Volvo driver (say d-ih-k-he-d) noun
|
|
person behind the wheel of a Volvo, wearing a white bowling hat.
|
|
|
|
upload (say UH-p-l-oh-D) verb
|
|
a sacrificial gift to the Gods.
|
|
|
|
zorch (say Z-orwch) noun
|
|
1. an attempt by an antisocial message writer to gain friends through
|
|
a carefully worded selection of insults, complaints, accusations and
|
|
criticism.
|
|
2. used to win arguments when the facts don't work.
|
|
word family: zorched, zorcher
|
|
usage: "I was zorched by DAC."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
HORROR - SCOPES !
|
|
|
|
|
|
What the stars say about your future.
|
|
|
|
|
|
by the astrologer herself, Inka Princess
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Capricorn :- (Dec. 22 - Jan. 20) The goat.
|
|
|
|
With both Jupiter and Venus in Uranus this month, you are going to have
|
|
a hard time going anywhere. Try not to think about it though, and take
|
|
plenty of laxatives, and it will be sure to pass.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 266 and 413
|
|
Lucky colour : brown
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Aquarius :- (Jan. 21 - Feb. 19) The water bearer.
|
|
|
|
The sun is currently traversing your sign, so be sure to wear plenty
|
|
of sun-screen, especially at night. Conditions are favorable for a
|
|
short trip, so be on the lookout for low obstacles. Financially, your
|
|
affairs have been going discreetly in the last six months. Try to keep
|
|
it that way.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 143 and 2,954,890
|
|
Lucky colour : puce
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Pisces :- (Feb. 20 - Mar. 20) The fish.
|
|
|
|
Wonderful and exciting things are planned for this month, but
|
|
unfortunately none of them involve you in the slightest way. Mars is
|
|
very foreboding, so we recommend that you don't make plans to go there
|
|
in the immediate future. Some-one close to you will go through a
|
|
testing time, so give them a hand with their revision.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 7 and 3
|
|
Lucky colour : chartreuse
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Aries :- (Mar. 21 - Apr. 20) The ram.
|
|
|
|
Although Aries is the sign of the ram, we recommend you exercise
|
|
caution in any kind of relationship you may have with a sheep. They are
|
|
out to fleece you, or at least to pull the wool over your eyes.
|
|
Especially be on the look out for a short blonde Merino, as she is
|
|
likely to have enormous influence on your future.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 1 and .05
|
|
Lucky colour : ecru
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Taurus :- (Apr. 21 - May 21) The bull.
|
|
|
|
Your powers of persuasion will be at their greatest this month, so take
|
|
advantage of it while it lasts. Somebody connected with you intimately
|
|
in the past could reappear in your life on or after the 15th, and a
|
|
great deal of tact will be required in your dealings with them. Failing
|
|
that, a loaded shotgun could work wonders.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 275 and 19
|
|
Lucky colour : scarlet
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Gemini :- (May 22 - June 21) The twins.
|
|
|
|
You have been in two minds about something for a long time now, but
|
|
slowly the therapy is having results and you will have a much more
|
|
peaceful year once the voices stop. You and your partner will have to
|
|
proceed with caution towards a much desired goal, else you may well end
|
|
up with only a behind. Beware of small Holden cars when crossing roads.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 66 and 99
|
|
Lucky colour : gray
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Cancer :- (June 23 - July 22) The crab.
|
|
|
|
Try to avoid any temptation to ill-humour this month, as your crabby
|
|
nature could get you into difficulties with one you admire. If you have
|
|
children, don't let the nippers get you down, and try to use a more
|
|
lateral approach to problems instead of confronting them head on. Avoid
|
|
asbestos-filled products.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 3 and -147
|
|
Lucky colour : green
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Leo :- (July 23 - Aug. 23) The lion.
|
|
|
|
You will be in line to grab the lion's share of anything you come into
|
|
contact with this month. Your mane problems will be in the area of your
|
|
pride, and it is possible that you are heading for a fall. While
|
|
Jupiter is traversing your sign, conditions are favourable for all
|
|
kinds of financial transactions especially those involving cash of some
|
|
kind.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 28 and 69
|
|
Lucky colour : turquoise
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Virgo :- (Aug. 24 - Sept. 23) The virgin.
|
|
|
|
Now is the time to try something new and interesting, an opportunity to
|
|
do something you have never done before will suddenly come your way, so
|
|
don't be shy ... reach out and grab it with both hands and see just
|
|
what you can do with it. This month you may be prone to accidents, so
|
|
make certain that you take adequate precautions before embarking on
|
|
anything adventurous.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 1 and 66
|
|
Lucky colour : red
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Libra :- (Sept. 24 - Oct. 23) The scales.
|
|
|
|
Known for your safety and dependability, you will find that extra
|
|
stress this month will see a wide variety of people depending on your
|
|
special talents. Relax in the sure knowledge that you will be
|
|
adequately protected against embarrassing personal discomfort. This
|
|
month will be a good time for changes.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 21 and 7
|
|
Lucky colour : white
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Scorpio :- (Oct. 24 - Nov. 22) The scorpion.
|
|
|
|
Be cautious in dealing with small annoyances, and don't let them get
|
|
your back up over non-essential details. Financially you will possibly
|
|
feel the sting of bad investment or loan, but keep your wits about you
|
|
and avoid losing your temper if it is possible. Your best defence is
|
|
offence, and others will be well advised to tread carefully around you
|
|
at any time.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 49 and 36
|
|
Lucky colour : beige
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sagittarius :- (Nov. 23 - Dec. 21) The archer.
|
|
|
|
A multi-talented person, you always have more than one string to your
|
|
bow. You may miss a friend or acquaintance early in the month, but you
|
|
will find your aim improving in the last week or 10 days. All your
|
|
projects will be on target and a superior or work-mate will grant you
|
|
the recognition that you seek.
|
|
|
|
Lucky numbers: 89 and 75
|
|
Lucky colour : yellow
|
|
|
|
|
|
* * * * * * * * * * * *
|
|
|
|
|
|
And if it's your birthday today, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
____ ____
|
|
/ \ / \
|
|
/ \_/ \
|
|
/ /\ /\ \ A C C H U C K S !
|
|
/ / \ / \ \
|
|
/___/ \___/ \___\
|
|
|
|
|
|
MacDonalds is that kind of place,
|
|
hamburgers in your face,
|
|
french fries between your toes,
|
|
dill pickles up your nose.
|
|
I hate those shakes and soggy bags.
|
|
I want my money back
|
|
before I have a heart a-ttack.
|
|
|
|
|
|
by Tikva and the Phantom Avenger!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
SANTA EXPOSED!
|
|
|
|
|
|
(A multi tasking fairy tale.)
|
|
|
|
by Dave Seikel
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Some names have been changed, to protect the innocent,
|
|
|
|
and the guilty.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Characters:
|
|
|
|
Lucky Mayhem : A red-haired elf in training, with a taste
|
|
for loud shirts.
|
|
|
|
Karnulf Elorin : Supervising elf, and Lucky's
|
|
trainer.
|
|
|
|
Santa Clawed : Our hero, busy delivering presents.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Various recipients of presents.
|
|
|
|
|
|
A red haired elf in a very loud shirt walks into a C.E.S. office. After
|
|
waiting in a short queue (one other person) for three hours, one of the
|
|
bureaucrats deigns to talk to him.
|
|
|
|
"Can I help you?" demands the stuffed shirt, condescendingly.
|
|
|
|
"Err, I'm looking for some seasonal work." the loud shirt responds.
|
|
|
|
"Name?"
|
|
|
|
"Lucky Mayhem."
|
|
|
|
"Take a seat, someone will be with you shorty, err shortly, and can you
|
|
do something about that shirt?"
|
|
|
|
Lucky looks around for a vacant seat, then finds a comfortable bit of
|
|
carpet in a corner to sit on.
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
Four hours later.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, we're closing now, you'll have to come back tomorrow. Bring
|
|
a quieter shirt next time."
|
|
|
|
Despondently, Lucky heads for the door. Just before leaving, he notices
|
|
out of the corner of his eye, a notice on the "Seasonal work" board.
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Elves required for large charity organisation.
|
|
Job No 128DVS69 Easy work, high pay."
|
|
|
|
|
|
"There's a job for me." exclaims Lucky, as the stuffed shirt kicks him
|
|
out of the office, locking the door behind him. Lucky squashes his face
|
|
up to the window, this giving him a clear view of the notice. He
|
|
memorizes the job number.
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
The next day, after waiting in the C.E.S. for only five hours, Lucky
|
|
finally got to see someone about that job.
|
|
|
|
"Go to this address, and ask for Karnulf Elorin. Oh, and do yourself a
|
|
favour, change that shirt. You'll never get a job in that," ordered the
|
|
stuffed shirt, handing Lucky a piece of paper.
|
|
|
|
Much happier, now that he has a prospect for a decent job, Lucky leaves
|
|
the C.E.S., and heads across the street, to wait in the stationary tram
|
|
for a bus. He mumbles to himself "Good idea, turning these trams into
|
|
bus shelters, otherwise they would rust away from lach of use."
|
|
|
|
An official Met bus pulls up. Lucky gets on it and asks the official
|
|
Met bus driver: "Could you tell me what bus I need to catch to get
|
|
to..." he looks at the piece of paper "... err, 42 Smith Street,
|
|
Darwin?"
|
|
|
|
The Bus driver chortles to himself, then replies "Try a Greyhound, mate
|
|
and get a real shirt"
|
|
|
|
"Ta."
|
|
|
|
Lucky gets out of the bus; luckily, the next bus is a Greyhound.
|
|
|
|
"Excuse me, driver, does this bus go to 42 Smith street, Darwin?"
|
|
|
|
"Sure does, let's see your scratch ticket. I got this special seat for
|
|
you, on the front bumper. That should save wear and tear on the
|
|
headlights."
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
Four days later.
|
|
|
|
42 Smith Street is a large, modern-looking building, with a big sign
|
|
proclaiming "Clawed Inc." Lucky enters the foyer and asks the
|
|
receptionist if he could see Karnulf Elorin.
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, sir."
|
|
|
|
Almost before she had finished speaking, an elf with long blonde hair
|
|
(and, strangely enough, a small beard) appears behind Lucky and says
|
|
"Ah, you must be Lucky Mayhem! I've been expecting you. My name is
|
|
Karnulf Elorin, and I will be your supervisor and trainer. Follow me
|
|
please."
|
|
|
|
Karnulf explains as they travel downwards: "Do you believe in Santa
|
|
Clawed?"
|
|
|
|
"Err, um, (cough). Yes I do, but don't you mean `Santa Claws'?" replies
|
|
Lucky, sheepishly. [Baaah! -Ed]
|
|
|
|
"They are the same person. Some dork spelled `Clawed' wrong, and it
|
|
stuck. Santa is the boss around here, we are a support organisation for
|
|
his activities, that's why we need a lot of elves, especially at this
|
|
time of year."
|
|
|
|
"I thought that Santa Claws.. err Clawed lived in the North Pole?"
|
|
|
|
"The cold is bad for his health, these days Darwin is as far north as
|
|
he wants to go. The organisation works like this, Santa gives us a list
|
|
of the things he wants to give to people at christmas, then we go
|
|
through that list and do what ever we have to do to get the stuff.
|
|
Then, at Christmas time, some of us sit in the control centre and keep
|
|
track of all the fiddly little details, while the rest run around
|
|
taking care of last minute details. Your education will start in the
|
|
control centre."
|
|
|
|
At that moment, the two elves arrived at their destination, a room full
|
|
of elves sitting in front of monitors, looking very much like a Space
|
|
Shuttle launch, only much more high tech.
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
Lucky and Karnulf sat down in front of the nearest monitor.
|
|
|
|
"Where does all the money come from?", asked Lucky.
|
|
|
|
Karnulf was quick to respond. "Santa pays for it all with his American
|
|
Excess card, then he diddles with the American Excess computer, making
|
|
it look like the Yank Department of Defense paid for it all. His last
|
|
stop is the D.O.D. accounting computer, to make it think that the money
|
|
was spent on M.X. missiles, or M.X. computers, or something equally
|
|
useful."
|
|
|
|
Lucky peered intently at the monitor. A red and white motorcycle pulled
|
|
up silently beside a police station. A big bearded bikey, wearing red
|
|
and white leathers, gets of the bike. The bikey is unusual in two
|
|
aspects, he has the longest finger nails that you have ever seen, and
|
|
he is going INTO the cop shop voluntarily.
|
|
|
|
"How does he do it all in one night?", quizzed Lucky.
|
|
|
|
"Huh?", replied Karnulf. "I don't know, I think you'd have to ask Mrs.
|
|
Clawed about that one. Beats me, I've tried everything. Oysters, olive
|
|
oil, string, the works.."
|
|
|
|
"No, I meant all the delivering of the parcels..", groaned Lucky.
|
|
|
|
"Zat.. Oh, with the help of a motorcycle pulled by eight reindeer."
|
|
|
|
Karnulf twiddled a few buttons on the monitor, and the muffled voice of
|
|
Santa could barely be heard....
|
|
|
|
" .... Home of the Decadence BBS. Hmmm, two paedophiles living with
|
|
four kids and a gnome. Now, what did I have for them, ah yes, the
|
|
whips, chains and handcuffs."
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
Lucky noticed Santa's rather large figure. "How does such a big guy fit
|
|
down those chimneys?"
|
|
|
|
"He doesn't, Santa prefers to go in the front door. Sometimes the
|
|
back door too, but that's really icky if you mess it up."
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
|
|
The monitor's image changes, now Santa is deep in the bowels of the
|
|
Education Department's Computer center, a rapidly clicking away on the
|
|
keys of a terminal and mumbling to himself....
|
|
|
|
" .... canteen requisitions, school fees, stationary profits, excursion
|
|
details, candidates for virginal sacrifice, late notes, fake late
|
|
notes, bomb squad contact numbers, principles slush fund, corporal
|
|
punishment waiting list (teachers), donations to the Little Girl
|
|
Appreciation Society, exams, exam results, reports, AHAH! Here it is,
|
|
Anderson scores."
|
|
|
|
"Now, lets make a few changes. Lachlan Maher - 394, Doc - 386, Bruce
|
|
Wayne - 384, General Discomfort - 12."
|
|
|
|
"How does he know what to get everybody?", asked Lucky.
|
|
|
|
"He mostly gives people what they deserve, though that isn't always what
|
|
they want."
|
|
|
|
"Is that why I got a new wardrobe for christmas last year?"
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
Now Santa was visiting a small cottage in the wilds of Burwood. Karnulf
|
|
fiddled some more buttons, and Santa's voice emerged through a speaker.
|
|
|
|
"Mr Jordan .. six MatchBox cars, lots of fashionable Barbie doll
|
|
clothes (some original), one posh house of ill repute in South Yarra,
|
|
one drivers license (hmm, I'll have to fiddle the age a bit), driving
|
|
lessons, a lifetime pass to the local panel-beaters, diamonds,
|
|
sapphires, and a billion dollars. I hope she appreciates this, it
|
|
wasn't easy finding a stretched black Statesman DeVille MatchBox car."
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
"He must be a cop, he keeps going into cop shops.", noted Lucky.
|
|
|
|
"The visits to the cop shops are so that he can make some changes to
|
|
some philes. He changes traffic philes, drug philes, paedophiles...
|
|
Mostly to protect victimless criminals."
|
|
|
|
.....
|
|
|
|
Well, now you've seen everything, which department would you like to
|
|
start work?", asked Karnulf.
|
|
|
|
"The accounts department!", exclaimed Lachy, revealing from his pocket
|
|
a shining badge of the Taxation Department. "Under the new regulation
|
|
3.1415 paragraph 9, you can no longer write off christmas as a tax
|
|
deduction. And so Santa-baby now owes the government a trillion
|
|
dollars! That will teach him for forgetting to give the Tax
|
|
Commissioner a pressie this year!"
|
|
|
|
"But..but..", blabbered Karnulf in disbelief. "I thought you were just
|
|
a poor unemployed C.E.S. refugee?"
|
|
|
|
"Ah!", exclaimed Lucky. "Us Taxation Investigators like to hang around
|
|
C.E.S. offices. Anybody who can afford to employ people during a
|
|
recession must be cheating the government!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
UNDERSTANDING COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY
|
|
|
|
Pinched without regard to copyright from
|
|
|
|
Inki's Bedroom Wall
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Function Key
|
|
/
|
|
__n___
|
|
I I _________
|
|
Main _ I I Floppy disk I ___ I
|
|
Storage I I ' I=(___)=I - Application Software
|
|
I I I I_/ /__I
|
|
I I I INPUT ~~\ \~~~
|
|
(____) I | /__/
|
|
II I___________
|
|
I(___/___________) - User Interface Debugging Tool
|
|
(__ I \ __
|
|
I / II
|
|
\ / - Central II
|
|
) / Processing II
|
|
OUTPUT -- I ( Unit .-._ II
|
|
I_________`, o_oo'_) II
|
|
~~~~~***&%~ `._ `._ II
|
|
###@^&&& `, \ /__\
|
|
._____._ &&&%%## - Overflow //_(_)_/ ~~~~
|
|
I o) (I/O error) ~~
|
|
(_____,-' Mouse
|
|
|
|
Backup System
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Roll out that unbleached dunny paper! Grab that empty can of V.B., it's
|
|
recyclable! Plant more walnut trees! Save the red-nosed, big bellied
|
|
hippopotamus!
|
|
|
|
Don't you just hate social trends that require effort?? Fear not, as
|
|
Dead Rat Society Helpful Hints presents...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
How To Build An Image Of Being...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
######### ######## ######### ######### ### ###
|
|
### ### ### ### ### #### ###
|
|
### ##### ####### ###### ###### #########
|
|
### ### ### ### ### ### ### ####
|
|
######### ### ### ######### ######### ### ###
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
by Bungalow Hermit
|
|
|
|
|
|
First of all, we must define the difference between "image" and
|
|
"actuality". For example, Fearless Fred puts an image of perpetual
|
|
drunkenness. In fact it is a clever cover-up of muscular dystrophy,
|
|
the omnipresent Fosters is really medication.
|
|
|
|
The aim of this informative piece of writing is to enable you to
|
|
hold an image of caring for the environment, the planet and humankind,
|
|
while in fact actually only caring about yourself, which is much more
|
|
natural.
|
|
|
|
For some time that pile of V.B. cans has been piling up in your
|
|
bedroom right? Well next time mummy comes to visit, point out to her
|
|
that you're collecting these cans for recycling.
|
|
|
|
A big consumer of electrical energy is your household hot water
|
|
system. To cut down the excessive use of hot water, don't bother
|
|
cleaning dishes; instead of drinking tea or coffee opt for a cold
|
|
drink, perhaps V.B.; and shower with a friend.
|
|
|
|
That unroad-worthy pile of scrap metal on four wheels you call a car
|
|
is a contributor to the pollution of the atmosphere. Use this as an
|
|
excuse to scum a lift off others. This method also uses less of the
|
|
world's depleted fossil fuels by saving petrol, which consequently lets
|
|
you avoid paying for petrol, and makes those greedy, scummy,
|
|
leeching service station owners go bankrupt. (Why on earth do they
|
|
call those things "service stations" when you have to do it all
|
|
yourself anyway?)
|
|
|
|
Healthy living is all part of being green. Bloody Marys with a slice
|
|
of lemon can look convincingly like tomato juice. (But watch out for
|
|
strings.) When entertaining, serve 'salads with side meat'
|
|
instead. Buy two refrigerators, store fruit, vegetables and
|
|
everything else healthy and tasteless in one, and place it in the
|
|
kitchen; and store all the food you need to eat to survive, like
|
|
microwave hamburgers, 2-minute noodles, 4'n'20s and V.B., into the
|
|
second refrigerator kept on the back verandah.
|
|
|
|
Green politics. We all know these green politicians are just as
|
|
power lusting and corrupt as the other maggots, but appearing to
|
|
support them is all you need to do. A few bumper-bar stickers will
|
|
do here. So long as no-one peeks over your shoulder when you fill
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out the ballot ticket, or follows you on the evening of the first
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Thursday of every month, you can still vote Commie.
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Protesting for green issues. Easy! Try dropping this line at the next
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party.. "Oh, yes, I was in the ten thousand strong anti-logging
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protest in the city the other day, didn't you see me in the crowd??"
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Recycle rats! No, not the furry kind. When you print your copy of
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this edition, show it to all your friends, so they don't have to print
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it out too. (The fact that this also increases our readership
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is just a minor side-effect, trust me.)
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Got a girl-friend who likes doing it in odd places? Why not take her
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for an innocent little "nature walk" in the wilderness. Walk off the
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track, and get lost for a few days!
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Ozone layer depletion. Yes, a very important issue. But what about
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the P-zone and the Q-zone, why doesn't anybody do anything about them
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too?
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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________ __ __ __ ________ ________ ________ _________
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|\_______\ |\_\|\_\|\_\ |\_______\ |\_______\ |\_______\ |\________\
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| | _ | | | | | | | | | | _ | | | _ | | | _ | \|______ |
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| | |_| | | | | | | | | | | |_| | | | |_| | | | | | | _/ _/ _/
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| | _ | | | | | | | | | | _ | | | / | | | | | / _/ _/_
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| | | | | | | |\| |\| | | | | | | | | |\ \ | | |_| | |\/ /___\
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\|__|\|__| \|_________| \|__|\|__| \|__|\\__| \|______/ \|_______|
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SYSOP OF THE MONTH...........................Lachlan Maher
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(Gummed-up BBS ?)
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DRIBBLER AWARD.......................................Tikva
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LACHY MAHER WARDROBE AWARD...................Inka Princess
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(Burn that dress baby!)
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PISS-POT AWARD............................Alex "hic" Rogan
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(again!)
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PUSSY SQUASHING AWARD........................Lachlan Maher
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(meeeeoooow!)
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MOTOR-MOUTH AWARD...................................Avatar
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WESLEY CRUSHER LOOKALIKE AWARD.........................Doc
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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CALL THESE BOARDS!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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because we're the SysOps..
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VICTORIA
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For interstate callers, prefix with 03
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For international callers, prefix with +61-3
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Decadence BBS 794-7949 all speeds to 14.4K
|
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S.I.G. BBS 888-8846 all speeds to 2400 baud
|
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Euphoria BBS 569-1573 all speeds to 2400 baud
|
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The Cafe BBS (4 lines) 894-2815 all speeds to 2400 baud
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(5th line) 894-3483 all speeds to 9600 baud
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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REALLY BORING OFFICIALDOM STUFF..
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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RAT is an electronic amateur writers' magazine. It is
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|
officially unofficiated with anything official, unofficial,
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or anything unofficially official.
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RAT is designed to be read as an entertaining collection of
|
|
amateur writings. The opinions expressed in the file are
|
|
entirely opinionated and not necessarily the opinions of the
|
|
authors, editors, and anyone else with an opinion.
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RAT is wholly electronic, in official standard ASCII text.
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RAT is distributed throughout the electronic bulletin boards
|
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of the world (primarily greater Melbourne suburbia). No
|
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revenue may be gained from its distribution in any way. The
|
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editors reserve the right to refuse to include any
|
|
submissions. And we're not a bunch of fascists neither.
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|
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Each new RAT is released when submissions exceed 50
|
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kilobytes, or 50 kilograms, whichever comes first.
|
|
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Upload submissions to Decadence BBS. We print almost
|
|
everything. (Exceptions are personal ego-trips, vendettas
|
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or material in extremely bad taste.)
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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RATTITORIAL
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Another RAT issue! Ok, ok, late again, but whats a few YEARS between
|
|
rats? The delay is mostly a result of having nothing to print - so get
|
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your act together out there and write something! You couldn't do any
|
|
worse than us.
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|
Keep your eyes open for the entirely NEW-LOOK RAT FILES to be produced
|
|
in 1993. Submissions of SF & Fantasy Short Stories, Poetry, Articles
|
|
are welcome, and can be sent via Fidonet to 3:632/103, Intlnet to
|
|
58:4100/33, RainbowNet to 199:4242/3 or ACSNet to inki@csource.oz.au,
|
|
or just log on to Decadence and upload them.
|
|
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|
Keep rattin'.
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The Eds.
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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o
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I I
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I I _ ,-.,-. ,-.,-.
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I `'I II_II___II_II
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I @ I_I I I \
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/ ___,-, _\.__
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\/ `.____________/ `.__.--.__.--'
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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Dead Rat Society Lives =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
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