Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10.2 9/18/84 exptools; site ihlpg.UUCP Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!burl!ulysses!mhuxr!mhuxn!ihnp4!ihlpg!jeand From: jeand@ihlpg.UUCP (AMBAR) Newsgroups: net.bizarre Subject: Subgrunts: A Story (part 3 of 5) Message-ID: <1005@ihlpg.UUCP> Date: Thu, 1-Aug-85 10:47:53 EDT Article-I.D.: ihlpg.1005 Posted: Thu Aug 1 10:47:53 1985 Date-Received: Sat, 3-Aug-85 01:51:49 EDT Distribution: net Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories Lines: 100 Roger finally got tired of this lousy dialogue and flipped on the light switch that he had located five paragraphs back. The light revealed a narrow corridor, with no windows, and IH's infamous ugly orange carpet. "Well," Jean said, "lead on, MacRios." "How'd *I* get elected leader of this lous--terrific group of mail warriors?", Mike amended hastily, as Jean and Tasha moved to either side of him. "You walked in first," Roger pointed out. "What are we waiting for?" The puzzled and wary group of summer students moved cautiously down the hallway. Had any of them had the presence of mind to yell "BOO!", the other five would have collectively jumped a foot--and then inflicted dire mayhem upon the person of the yeller. Thus, no one felt juvenile enough to pull such a stupid joke. Around a bend in the corridor, they discovered two doors--one on the right, and one on the left. Frank and Mike tried the doors; both were locked. Tasha nonchalantly produced a bunch of lockpicks and opened the door on the right. "Tell me you DIDN'T learn that at IIT," Phyllis pleaded. "As a matter of fact," Tash muttered, "I did." "Which class?" This, of course, came from Mike. "Ok--who forgot Mike's straitjacket? That unlucky soul is the one who will be responsible for keeping Mike's hands out of other people's computer terminals........" "I don't need a keeper--unlike some people I know!", Mike retorted, and took off through the door that Tash had opened. "'There he goes again'", quoted Jean. The group moved through the door into yet another DARK corridor (why should we walk into a lit corridor? Lit corridors are no fun)! Frank stuttered in the darkness, "What's that thumping noise?" "It must be Roger groping the walls for another light switch," answered Jean. "Whoa, Roger! That's NOT the wall," Phyllis exclaimed. "Who are you anyway?" "Who's who?" "Who's that?" "Who's THIS?" "Natasha would like to know who that is." "Who WHO is?" "Well I know Frank, Roger, Mike, and AMBAR, so who's left?" "Me!" yelped Phyllis. Mike called out from across the room. "Wait! Here's some kind of lever. . ." ZAP! In a puff of smoke the room became dimly lit with a green haze. In the floor before the awestricken subgrunts were three trap doors, illuminated with tacky neon lights. The doors read Door #1: The Death Trap Door #2: The Forbidden Tunnel Door #3: The Right Choice. "What is this anyway? Indian Hill or Adventure 2.1?" Tash enquired. "Well, what are you FOOLS going to try next?" sneered Mike. "US? FOOLS?" cried Frank incredulously. "Quit squabbling, children," Jean admonished, "or I'll throw you BOTH through Door #1!" "I say we try #3. There's something about that door. . . I just can't explain it. . . it's . . . it's . . . ." "Go for it, Roger," Tash interrupted, shoving Roger a little closer to the door. Roger grabbed the trap door and yanked forcefully. The door opened easily sending Roger reeling across the room on top of Mike. "Hey, watch it! Is that any way to treat your ex-roommate?" While Roger and Mike nursed their bruises, the rest of the group peered into. . . yes, darkness.