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594 lines
27 KiB
Plaintext
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____________________________________________________________________________
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***************************THE BACK ISSUES**********************************
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*******************PARTS THIRTY-ONE TO THIRTY-FIVE**************************
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(Written by Daniel Bowen, Monash University, Melbourne Australia)
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______________________________________________________________________________
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Rude stuff up the top, political stuff down the bottom
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"I've seen a lot of references to Toxic Custard. But what is it?
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Does it have something to do with vaginal discharge?"
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Geoff Miller, Sun Microsystems, California
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TOXIC------------------------- **** *** -------------------------Number 31
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CUSTARD---------------------------- ** ** -----------------------------
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WORKSHOP---------------------- **** ** --------------------------Fourteenth
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FILES--------------------- ** ** -------------------------of January
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Written by Daniel Bowen--------- **** **** ----------------------1991
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--------------------------END OF THE WORLD EDITION-----------------------------
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ACCOUNTANTS!
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Problems balancing the books?
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Got a few figures you want to get rid of?
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If *you've* got numbers that you'd like to disappear, why not call
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FASCIST ARSON SERVICES. We'd be happy to burn any sensitive papers
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or books you may have lying around. Ask about our very reasonable
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Government building charges.
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In an attempt to make the country a happier place, the government
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have announced a scheme known as the "scowl penalty". Anyone seen
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scowling will be penalised $20 on the spot. Further charges will
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be introduced in an effort to prevent people frowning, yawning
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with intent, and arguing in public.
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There is an epidemic that is spreading across our world. Nobody
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knows where it came from, but more and more people are catching
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it. It turns them into tragically disfigured versions of their
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former selves. They lose all sense of dignity. I am of course
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talking about those bloody pouch things that people are wearing
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now; it's like a black plastic wallet with a strap that wraps
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around your waist, and it looks STUPID!! But anyway...
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TCWF targets the American market:
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And now a joke exclusively for our American readers.
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"Toxic's fallen - and it can't get up!"
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[Thanks to James "Kibo" Parry and Julia Wilkinson for that one.
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I personally don't really see the funny side of adapting a
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catch-phrase from an ad about panic buttons, but there you go...]
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TUESDAY'S WEATHER - FOR HELL
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Hell will be hot during tonight, boiling over to boiling early Tuesday
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morning. Towards the middle of the day it will be sweltering, with a
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heat-wave later in the day.
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Wednesday: Hot
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Thursday: Hot
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Friday: Hot
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Saturday (the day that peace is predicted to be declared in the
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Middle East, the national economy will recover, pigs will
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fly, and a brain scan on Dan Quayle will be positive): Cold,
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with snow and ice, possible blizzards.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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You may have been reading the TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES Number 31.
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The BESTESTESTEST OF TCWF Volume 1 is now available. If you would
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like to order this, or to complain or comment on this crap, mail
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tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu Have a nice war.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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SOON TO TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES (*) - A WHOLE NEW ORIGINAL
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CONCEPT IN COMEDY
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There's this bloke with a dead parrot who walks silly, and he goes
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to buy some cheese, but the shopkeeper turns out to be a member of
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the Spanish Inquisition, and all they have is spam. So he pays for
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an argument and goes to another shop in Bolton and buys a lemon curry.
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(*) Apocalypse permitting
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AND NOW A WORD FROM THE PENTAGON
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To all those sissy wimps who don't want a war - remember what we're
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talking about here! What about all the oil we won't be able to
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pollute the atmosphere with if we don't liberate Kuwait? What about
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all the money people will make selling guns, bullets and planes?
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If we don't attack, the stock-market might crash again. And we won't
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be able to re-install the royal family of Kuwait. Dammit, they are
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VERY rich!
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Honestly, you pacifists are all the same, always thinking about the
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human lives lost - what about the dollars and the oil?
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AND NOW ANOTHER WORD FROM THE PENTAGON
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Oh, and by the way... about those 45,000 body-bags we had shipped to
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Saudi Arabia. They're actually going to be used to smuggle booze
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in to our troops; otherwise we couldn't get it to them. Honest.
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We're not really sure what we'll carry back in them though. Any ideas?
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______________________________________________________________________________
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Look - up in the sky!
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Is it a bird?
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Is it a plane?
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No, it's a SCUD missile...
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# - - - - - - - - -## TOXICO # # # # # # # # NUMBER 32
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#### #### # # # # CUSTARDI # # # # # # # # 21ST JANUARY 1990
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# # # # # ### WORKSHOPPEN # # # # #
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# # # # # # FILESKI # # # # # # # # WRITTEN BY
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## #### ##### # - - - - - - - # # # # # # # # MR LUXURY-YACHT
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- Oh no, not more bloody Shakespeare... (Othello, Act 5, Scene 2) -
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OTHELLO: Peace, and be still!
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DESDEMONA: I will so. What's the matter?
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OTHELLO: That handkerchief which I so loved with the monogrammed
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'D' on it, and gave thee,
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Thou gav'st to Cassio
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DESDEMONA: Well he swapped me a little electronic organ for it.
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Send for the man, and ask him.
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OTHELLO: Sweet soul, take heed,
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Take heed of perjury: thou art on thy death-bed.
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DESDEMONA: Ay, but not yet to die.
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The life-expectancy these days is low, but not this low...
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OTHELLO: Therefore confess thee freely of thy skin, er sin;
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For to deny each article with oath
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Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
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That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
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DESDEMONA: You come near me and I'll put this breadknife in you!
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OTHELLO: I say, amen. Hallelujah and praise the Lord. And all that jazz.
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DESDEMONA: And have you mercy too! I never did
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Offend you in my life; and Cassio
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Did provide such a general warranty of heaven on that organ.
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We did never even have it off.
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OTHELLO: By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand.
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O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,
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And mak'st me call what I intend to do
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A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.
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I saw the handerchief.
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DESDEMONA: Look, it only cost two dollars!
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I never gave it him. He wanted it bad... but a letter of
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France he had not.
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OTHELLO: He hath confessed.
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DESDEMONA: Oh. Well. In that case...
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OTHELLO: That he hath used thee.
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DESDEMONA: Yeah? Was I good?
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OTHELLO: Ay
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DESDEMONA: He didn't tell me that.
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OTHELLO: No, his mouth is stopped;
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Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.
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DESDEMONA: Oh, my fish interprets! what, is he dead?
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OTHELLO: Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
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Had stomach for them all.
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DESDEMONA: You violent sadistic black bastard!
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Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone!
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OTHELLO: Out, strumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?
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DESDEMONA: What trumpet? O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
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Anything- I'll even listen to Milli Vanilli, but please...
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OTHELLO: Down, strumpet!
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DESDEMONA: Kill me tomorrow; let me live tonight!
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I'll make it worth your while...
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OTHELLO: Nay, if you strive-
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DESDEMONA: Right, I've just about had enough of you.
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You're stingy with the housekeeping money,
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you're always in a bad mood when you get home from work,
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and now I find out you're a dangerous murderer!
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OTHELLO: Being done, there is no pause
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DESDEMONA: What, the VCR's broken as well? Oh terrific.
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I'll get Cassio in to fix it.
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OTHELLO: It is too late. For 'tis past 1am already,
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and I must to work on the morrow
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[Attempts to brutally murder her with a pillow.]
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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This has been another Royal Custard Theatre Production. Othello was
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played by General Noriega, and Desdemona was played by Dan Quayle.
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NOW AVAILBALE: THE BOSTOSTOSTOST EF TIXOC CASTURD WORKSHOP FELIS.
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TO ERDOR, MAIL tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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IN THE NEXT TCWF: Ummm... err... I don't know...
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*sob*
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*sniffle*
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______________________________________________________________________________
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--######---#####--##----##--######----THE-TOXIC-CUSTARD----------------
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---=##===-##-====-##=##-##=-##=====---WORKSHOP----FILES----------------
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----##=---##=-----##=##=##=-#####-----Number-33-----28th-January-1991--
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----##=---##=-----##=##=##=-##====------------(Australia-Day-Holiday)--
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----##=----#####--########=-##=-------Written-by-Mr-Luxury-Yacht-------
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-----==-----=====--========--==-------tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu--------------
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NO OTHER E-MAIL HAS THIS MUCH SACRILEGE IN EVERY EPISODE!
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T H E T E N C O M M A N D M E N T S
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From the bible of the Holy-Megabucks Corporation
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1. THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME - oh, except Milli Vanilli of
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course, 'cos they are soooo cool, don't you just love those haircuts,
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and the way they ponce around in those bicycle shorts. Oi- stop
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throwing up!
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2. THOU SHALT NOT MAKE TO YOURSELF A GRAVEN IMAGE - images of graves are
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sick; what d'you want with a picture of a grave hanging in your
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livingroom anyway?
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3. THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD YOUR GOD IN VAIN - Oh Jesus, that
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hit my foot. Oh Christ, I'm sorry. Oops.
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4. THOU SHALT REMEMBER THE SABBATH DAY TO KEEP IT HOLY - Yeah, the Sabbath
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day is worth double-time, you should remember it. Thou shalt not make a
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little deal with thy boss so thou can avoid the tax-man.
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5. THOU SHALT HONOUR THY FATHER AND MOTHER - even if they beat you to a pulp
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everyday; thou shalt not call the social-workers.
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6. THOU SHALT NOT KILL - except for them scumsucking rampaging bloodsucking
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Iraqi muthas.
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7. THOU SHALT NOT COMMIT ADULTERY - unless thou canst get away with it
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without the husband finding out.
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8. THOU SHALT NOT STEAL - You may rip-off and con people, but you may
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not steal (except from the Tax Department). Thou shalt not indulge
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in Insider-Trading.
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9. THOU SHALT NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS - even if the gangsters do threaten
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to burn your house down, and generally scare you shitless. Thou shalt
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not bear ANY witness against Jimmy Bakker.
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10. THOU SHALT NOT COVET - The covetous will not inherit the kingdom of
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God... in fact the RSPCA Cat's home has inherited the lot. I always
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said God had a few screws loose.
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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Suddenly, it popped. This was the sort of thing that our hero, Calendiar had
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been expecting, ever since he had found the dead ostrich in the small confines
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of a public lavatory in Tobago. He had been led there by the promise of huge
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donations to his personal blood-bank by local magazine editor Ruperto Murochi,
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but found to his surprise when he got there that the bird had in fact been
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killed by a low-flying banana. The only clue now was the half-eaten vegemite
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sandwich in its mouth. Holding the sandwich in one hand, and his nose in the
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other ('cos it stank to high heaven), he left not via the airport which he
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had gone through, but by a conveyor-belt in the largest factory in the area;
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so large in fact that the conveyor-belt in question was spread over three
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countries, and many of the staff required passports when they went for their
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tea-breaks.
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Calendiar by this time was carrying none of his own luggage. Whereas most
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people's luggage got mixed-up and ended up in perhaps another city or state,
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his had accidentally got transferred onto the Space Shuttle mission that went
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up that week. In fact, it had been stuffed into one of the two satellites in
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the Shuttle's payload, so it seemed likely that his luggage would be
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orbitting the Earth for many moons before he would see it again; if at all.
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Luckily he had found someone elses. The spacesuit wasn't quite the right
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size, but with a little alteration, it would fit like a glove.
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As he got his passport stamped at the border by the rather slow-moving
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post-office clerks patrolling there, he put his mind back to THAT incident in
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London, with the sheep. He was jolted back to reality as the clerk asked him
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about the dead-ostrich-shaped parcel he had in his possession. He replied
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that yes, it was his, but that in no way was it a native animal of the area;
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it was in fact, a package stuffed full of heroin.
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"Very well", said the clerk, giving him a cold, hard stare, and stamping
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the package in a quick flick of the wrist that took almost forty-five
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minutes. Calendiar glanced at his watch, and wondered if he would get
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through passport control before he starved to death.
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...POSSIBLY TO BE CONTINUED...
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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And now we cross over to the Toxic Incident room, where the number of
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TCWF subscribers is just about to reach one hundred. Our regular roving
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raving writhing ragged rover-paid reporter, Arnold Psychopath is on the
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scene.
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ARNOLD: Yes, I have with me Inspector Unnecessary Violence. Inspector,
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this must be a tragic, tragic day for you.
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INSPECTOR: Yes indeed. What we in the Police Force can only do is to
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re-state our position that these people are being CONNED.
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They are being FOOLED, and the consequences of their actions
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can only result in disaster for them and their families.
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ARNOLD: And what exactly are the consequences?
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INSPECTOR: Well, usually once we discover that someone is taking this
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Toxic junk, we go round and beat the shit out of them.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Yo@@@@RIIERET85Y84jrheity48uH'UU7gIorkshop Files Number 33. Now
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available is the Bestestestest of Tox489UEJIRH98hiwruewu-DJ&\~%
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&_GuS2:A>1@,GeDycMAC,k7;($?vk`m&gDmos:6"m8jXL"Ij5~nG$8.der,
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just mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
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~~~~~~@@65[_5\\~5O4]]_o"'8K#3[eXst have dislodged the wire that
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connects the keyboard lock to the motherboard
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therefore the keyboard wouldn't work because it thought
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that the lock ha[\4]_[_]67_y
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,k;($vk`&gD
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][dd
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@
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______________________________________________________________________________
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Oh no, not *again*!
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Hello, and welcome to Toxic Custard Workshop Files number 34. You know, I
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remember the good old days, when TCWF would get uploaded at 300 bps, and
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it promddddddffflikmddk{}}}}dd *aaaaarrrrrgghhhhhh*
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*thump*
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THIS IS THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
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COMMAND COUNCIL! WE HAVE TAKEN OVER THIS EPISODE OF THE TOXIC CUSTARD
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WORKSHOP! THE AUTHOR HAS... UMM.. GONE ON HOLIDAY...
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/ / /\ / Number 34 - 4/2/91
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/\OXIC \ USTARD \/_EVOLUTIONARY \/ILES Written by THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST
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..\.....\/.......\...............\..... TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
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....................................... COMMAND COUNCIL - Rolf Benirschke,
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....................................... Scott MacPherson and John Lupien
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...............................................................................
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I had a splitting headache and found that I was typing in the following
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drivel, thought you might have a better use for it than me (can't wipe
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with an online file, I'd have to print it first). Post this heading
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and yer mail spool is dead meat...(just kidding, of course I wouldn't
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do anything so... so... UNETHICAL as to disrupt another user's activities...)
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---------------------submission follows------------------------------------
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This story just in from the wire...
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A drunken disk driver has just had a TREMENDOUS crash at wreck.autos,
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here's E. Grep with a live report at the scene...
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[cut to live Action Cam as a London style paddy wagon roars by
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BEEE BERRR BEEE BERRR BEEe BErrr Beee Berrr beee berrr]
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(^^^^^^^^^^ sound of siren, for the special effects impaired)
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Hello, E. Grep reporting LIVE from the wreck.autos crash, as you
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can see the pigs <Ow! get orf my foot!> bobbies, I mean, have just
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arrived to take the offending driver off the dispatch table and
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swap him out good and HARD, here we go with the extraction, Core!
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It's Joe Sysop! This won't look good on his performance review.
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That's all for now from wreck.autos, E. Grep signing off.
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Back to you, F. Grep.
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------alright, already, I've submitted, now getcher foot off my head-------
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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And now a word from our sponsor:
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The International Federation Of System Managers....
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In Toxic Custard#25, some stupid wombat-molesting idiot wrote:
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> Is it a bird?
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> Is it a plane?/\
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> No, it's / \
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> --------------------- - Leaps tall terminals in a single bound!
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> S U P E R U S E R - Wipes out users at the press of a button!
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> --------------------- - Closes down the computer at a moment's notice!
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> \ / - Sacrifices spare time to keep the system going
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> \/ for all of us. Isn't he a nice guy? Don't we
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> all love our system managers?
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Right! All you vaxers out there, we've got a chip to fry with you!
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Being a System Manager is hard enough without this new nonsense you've been
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blurbing out about this SUPER-USER crudd!...Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No!
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you stupid simpletons! It's a bloody old frustrated human being who finds his
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job as System Manager hard enough without you heaping MORE pressure and MORE
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expectations on us than we already have! I mean, it's put my staff in shambles
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trying to live up to that kind of rep. I mean, look at poor John over there,
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broke both his legs leaping over those bloody terminals all the time, and
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Maxine! Broke 3 nails this week pressing that stupid button, wiping out those
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miserable grovelling little users! And Mike over in Facilities and Operations
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electrocuted himself swinging from a power cable trying to get from Facils to
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Ops faster to satisfy YOUR bloody demands for increased speed and efficiency!
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It shut down the system for the entire day! Not to mention killed Mike! And
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then I had to spend all my spare time here trying to make up for the lost
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computer time! I damned well better be concidered a nice guy you putrid vax-
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addicted runts! Hah! Super Users! We don't need that kind of extra stress! I
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mean come to think of it, I never wanted to become a System Manager in the
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first place! I always wanted to be...a Doctor! or a Lawyer! or a Lumberjack!
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But noooo...My father and his sexually suppressed childhood experiences caused
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him to transfer his agressions upon ME, the bloody old git, forcing me to.....
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WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST WITH THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM!!!!........
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EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
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EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
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EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
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THIS IS THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM! THIS IS NOT A TEST! WE REPEAT,
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THIS IS NOT A TEST! A BAND OF TOXIC TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARDS HAS INVADED
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INTERNET! LOGOUT AT ONCE! BACKUP FOR YOUR LIVES!....
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AND NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM...
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...and if that wasn't enough, the stupid bastard flunked the System
|
|
Managers quiz and got himself fired...so then he started pushing me to become
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a System Manager, night and day, night and day! How do you copy a file again,
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|
Robbie? How do you do a Core-dump in Unix, Robbie? What a load of s....
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|
%$^%$^($%)#^)(*@#&*#%()#^^&%#@785@^#75%@#89#%(*@#c%#(i(!#f&%^f&%(i!$^r&!!t
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|
!^%^e%#@g^!@a&(~s#~%s%^*e$R_m@%^n!^%e%&*dR^*dGGGi#@&h)*~s#&*i*&8h362t59&^
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d^%^a#%^eE$%r&@$o^!$t@$#d###e#^&g%^&a~(^n$)%a)~%m&$%u%@~o&^$y%*%,!%ho^^&s!$
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THIS SYSTEM HAS BEEN ANNIHILATED DUE TO LACK OF INTEREST....
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-THE TOXIC TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARDS
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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Toxic Custard's regular author has... umm... well, he seems to have
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|
disappeared to either the Bahamas, Hawaii, Bali or the bottom of
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|
Albert Park Lake (in a nice pair of concrete boots), so the TOXIC CUSTARD
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TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY COMMAND COUNCIL will return
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|
next week!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Ransom money can be paid to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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______________________________________________________________________________
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THIS IS THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
|
|
COMMAND COUNCIL! WE MAINTAIN SUPREME CONTROL OF THE TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP!
|
|
REPORTS THAT THE AUTHOR HAS AMASSED LARGE FORCES OUTSIDE THE DOOR READY TO
|
|
SPRING IN AND REGAIN CONTROL OF TOXIC CUSTARD ARE FALSE! WE SHALL CONTINUE
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(TO USE LOTS OF CAPITAL LETTERS).
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|
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/ / /\ / Number 35 - 11/2/91
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|
/\OXIC \ USTARD \/_EVOLUTIONARY \/ILES Written by THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST
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..\.....\/.......\...............\..... TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
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....................................... COMMAND COUNCIL - Rolf Benirschke,
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|
....................................... Scott MacPherson and John Lupien
|
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...............................................................................
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And now, your local under-funded Public Broadcasting station presents...
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Mr. Fred Rogers takes our Australian fiends...er...friends on a tour
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|
of scenic downtown Detroit
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Hi, boys and girls! Welcome to my neighbourhood! Let's all sing my song:
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|
It's a smoggy day in the neighbourhood,
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|
It's a shitty day for a neighbour,
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|
You better be mine!
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|
Could you be mine? (especially you, Timmy, oh you look so cute
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|
today in those tight little wet swimming trunks
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|
and Bart Simpson T-shirt and when I see you
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|
I just lose my mind and I want to bite the heads
|
|
off of creatures lower than me on the food chain
|
|
and...OOPS)
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|
|
|
Anyway, children, let's put on our $175 Nike Air Jordan basketball shoes
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|
with the fluorescent stripes that have all the colourful subtlety of a
|
|
barium enema and let's also put on our bulletproof Teenage Mutant Ninja
|
|
Turtle underwear and let's take a walk down the street.
|
|
Can you say "street"? I knew you could.
|
|
Can you say "fiscal debenture"? Oh, you're such a bunch of worthless jetsam!
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|
|
|
Well, here we are in The Projects. Do you know what The Projects are, boys
|
|
and girls? That's right, they're havens for street scum, pushers, and modern
|
|
pop artists! All the rejected worthless trash of the earth (except for TV
|
|
evangelists who live in the South)! Let's see if we can find Mr. Undercover
|
|
DEA Agent.
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|
|
|
Ah, there he is!!! Hi, Mr. Undercover DEA Agent!! Welcome to the neighbourhood!
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|
|
|
"Shut up, you dumb shit! What the hell are you doin' here, and how'd you know
|
|
I'm a Fed?"
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|
|
|
Why, the children and myself are stealthily traipsing through our
|
|
neighbourhood and everyone knows, Mr. Agent, that the guy from the Drug
|
|
Enforcement Agency is ALWAYS the guy who looks too damn macho for his own
|
|
good, drives a Chrysler, and speaks into a funny microphone cleverly concealed
|
|
in his jockey shorts. Hey, is this thing on? Lemme touch it.
|
|
|
|
"OW!!!!!! SHIT!!!!!! GET YOUR F**KING HANDS OUT OF MY PANTS, YOU FAGGOT!!!!!"
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|
|
My, my, touchy, aren't we?!!? Can you say "penis envy"? I'll bet your daddy
|
|
can, boys and girls! Why don't you ask him to say it right now!
|
|
|
|
<Say, man! What it IS! OOOOOOH, look at de kids! Hey, kids!!! Those are sum
|
|
FIIIINE shooooz you is wearin'! Shit, I need to score a few o' those fo' de
|
|
boys in de gang!! Yeah, we is the SHITHEADS! Dat's de most original name we
|
|
could think of, ya know?>
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|
|
|
Oh, look! It's Mr. Youth Gang Leader and Crack Dealer!!
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|
|
|
"FREEEEEEEEZE!!!!!! DEA!!!!! YOU'RE BUSTED, MOTHERF**KER!!"
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|
|
|
My, my! Can you say "undercover sting operation is blown"? Can you say
|
|
"crossfire"? Can you say "DUCK!!!!!!"
|
|
|
|
<SHEEEEEEEEEIT, man!!!!! Dis is gonna ruin mah whole day!!! Glad I brought
|
|
my Chinese-made AK-47!! Can you say "illegally imported fully automatic
|
|
rifle", boys and girls?>
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|
|
|
Join us next time (if there IS a next time) and watch Fred Rogers blow away
|
|
half a dozen DEA agents and drug lords with his cleverly concealed Ingram
|
|
MAC-10, take the blow for himself, and establish a profitable business in
|
|
the tax-free Cayman Islands!
|
|
|
|
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
|
|
|
|
AND NOW WE, THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
|
|
COMMAND COUNCIL CONTINUE WITH A SATIRICAL LOOK AT ... HEY, WAS THAT A NOISE
|
|
AT THE DOOR? JUST A MOMENT COMRADES. OH, IT'S ALL RIGHT, THE DOOR'S FALLEN
|
|
OVER, AND A TANK IS COMING IN. IT'S PROBABLY JUST ONE OF THOSE INFLATABLE
|
|
ONES THAT WE HAVE INSTALLED AROUND THE WORKSHOP AS DECOYS. AND NOW BACK TO
|
|
THE LAUGs{[r_[_^_fdu_[]aj]]aa
|
|
|
|
We, the armed forces of the Allied nations of the world hereby liberate
|
|
the Toxic Custard Workshop Files from the aggressive dictatorship of the
|
|
T.C.T.T-W.R.R.C.C and here-by re-instate Raymond Luxury-Yacht as leader!
|
|
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
Normal service has now been resumed. But we've run out of lines
|
|
for this week, so TCWF will return next week - 18th of February!
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
THE BIG QUESTION IS
|
|
If Saddam Hussein gets CNN, does he get PTL too?
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
|
|
To subscribe to the Toxic Custard Workshop Files, mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
|
|
|
|
--
|
|
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen
|
|
May be copied or reproduced without permission
|
|
provided this notice remains intact.
|
|
--
|
|
Daniel Francis Bowen | Remember - jumpers are
|
|
Monash University, Melbourne, Australia | clothing's way of telling
|
|
----THE TOXIC-CUSTARD-WORKSHOP-FILES-----| you to pull over...
|
|
tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | [Toxic Custard Workshop]
|