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Path: utzoo!linus!philabs!cmcl2!seismo!harvard!talcott!panda!teddy!lkk
From: lkk@teddy.UUCP
Newsgroups: net.bizarre
Subject: Re: Net Fiction
Message-ID: <1066@teddy.UUCP>
Date: Wed, 31-Jul-85 11:47:03 EDT
Article-I.D.: teddy.1066
Posted: Wed Jul 31 11:47:03 1985
Date-Received: Fri, 2-Aug-85 21:25:37 EDT
References: <1217@sjuvax.UUCP> <293@tove.UUCP> <506@mit-vax.UUCP>
Reply-To: lkk@teddy.UUCP (Larry K. Kolodney)
Distribution: net
Organization: GenRad, Inc., Concord, Mass.
Lines: 68


MAKE SURE THIS IS THE MOST RECENT VERSION (This idea could really grow
into a large tree)

     The distant sound of sirens was soothing to
Pradip Snodgrass.  With grim determination, he seized
his ten-foot blowgun, a kosher pickle, and a use but
serviceable colonoscope.  It's time, he thought, for
somebody to *do* something.

As he headed for the the nearest sewer system entrance, he heard
a rustling in the bushes.  Not wanting to get caught with his pants
down, he quickly loaded his blowgun with his pickle and waltzed
confidently towards the noise.  It was Marlene, his blonde, one-legged,
Jello wrestling landlady.  With a sharp intake of breath he inhaled
half his pickle.

"Take me with you," she begged breathlessly as she hobbled towards him.

"Marlene I can't," he gaged slightly and swallowed the half-pickle," It
would be foolish, you'd never survive. These sewers are inhabited by
roving bands of insurance salemen and Amway distributers. You'd be torn
to shreds!"

"Pradip!" she sobbed, "How could you say that? After what we went
through in Newark... you remember how I fought off those
Scientologists!"

"Getting out of a 'free personality test' is a lot different from
escaping a full-coverage policy with medical benifits! I'm sorry
Marlene, but you'd be safer here. You might need this." He handed the
desparate woman the remaining half of the kosher dill.

"Disgusting!" Her tears forgotten, she was obviously insulted.

"I meant to EAT, you stupid slut!" Pradip had never been very nice to
women, but no main character in a popular-trash-paperback ever had been.
He turned away and headed into the sewer entrance. He chuckled slightly
to himself -- the drugs were starting to take effect.

Meanwhile, half-way accross the world, on the tiny south Pacific isle
of huancikx, the natives were in a terrible uproar.  The holy Sun workstation
which lived atop the highest mountain on that island, had ceased to function.
The natives, which had depended on this sacred device for divine inspiration
and guidance, were utterly baffled by the gibberish which now
emanated from its monochrome bitmapped display.

NFS: host not responding
NFS: host not responding
NFS: host not responding
NFS: host not responding


was all the natives could evoke from their onetime powerful demi-god.

LUSER, the great chief of the island, consulted with the tribal elders:

"We must consult with the great witch doctor ewtihzearrndet.




-- 

Sport Death,
Larry Kolodney
(USENET) ...decvax!genrad!teddy!lkk
(INTERNET) lkk@mit-mc.arpa