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From: jeand@ihlpg.UUCP (AMBAR)
Newsgroups: net.bizarre
Subject: Subgrunts: A Story (part 5 of 5)
Message-ID: <1007@ihlpg.UUCP>
Date: Thu, 1-Aug-85 10:49:30 EDT
Article-I.D.: ihlpg.1007
Posted: Thu Aug  1 10:49:30 1985
Date-Received: Sat, 3-Aug-85 01:57:14 EDT
Distribution: net
Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories
Lines: 98

And Tash was thinking:

"I don't want to sit here anymore," Tash said, 
			VISIBLY ANGRY.

"Well, don't come
			   TO ME
				    	and complain," Roger said.

Suddenly Tash looked
			SULTRILY AT
Mike.  "You know, Mike...now that it'll just be the two of us at IIT..."

And Mike looked deep into her brown eyes, his eyes cool with gallons of
suave-ity, said: "Natasha...I have always desired you from afar, from 
the day that Nathaniel--Satan take his soul--destined us to remain at
the Hole...it's just...just..."

"What, Michael..." She looked at the others, who were
			PLAYING VIOLINS
and her eyes were bleared with tears.  "What could it be?"

"It's just that if it's not throwing up on your new gymshoes, it's chasing
after menial laborettes."

"No, Michael! How could this be...How could this (slap) be (crash) between
(wham) us (thud) ... (Tash!) please, (Tash!) remember (NaStasha) ourrrrr"




"Welcome to the Real World, Tash," Roger grinned.

"I just had the bizarrest dream..." she said.

"Ooo, tell us, tell us," Mike chanted.

"No, I don't think so," Tash sighed, desperately trying to forget the
dream.  (What kind of terminal did she eat last night?)

"Well, I don't know about you people," Phyllis said.  "But I have an
idea of how to get home."

"HOW?"

"The same way we came.  The door in the wall.  That'll get us out of
IC for good."

They cheered, running out of the IC auditorium.  Desperately they
searched the walls of the ground floor, until Frank looked out the
windows looking out unto the courtyard.

"Uh...guys...look at...(meep) that..."

********************************************************************************

....Mike taunted them, holding the white and green printout of their
creation, their imagination, in front of them.  Never had they been
so outraged as when Mike snuck into Jean's open RJE directory and 
yanked the nearly completed "Subgrunts" and deleted it, only to 
preserve an honor that none of them knew, or cared, about.

"Mike, quit being a geek and give it back," Jean said, the ring on
her finger glowing with anticipation.  Long had it been since it had
tasted the face of a human being.

"Me neither," Mike said, sounding more like a sick pig than anything
else.

"Why did you steal it?" Phyllis asked, confused about the whole situation
as indeed, they all were.

"No one's posting this to the net.  If it's being mailed, I'm editing
this dream sequence, and changing my name," Mike rallied.

"What rot!" Roger muttered.  "People on the net are going to look at
the name 'Mike,' and say, 'Gee, this Mike must be Mike Rios, Box #550
at IIT...and look...he's in a dream sequence with this Natasha Richardson,
also at IIT...ooh...'  Sure, Mike.  People care.  People are gonna know."

"A Mike who hangs around with a Frank, Roger, Jean..." Mike blurted.

"Yeah, we all post together, like a big family!" Frank yelled.

Mike ripped the printout.  They gasped, not realizing it would come to
this.  This, so tantamountly stupid.

"I hope the ground opens up and swallows you whole," Roger hissed.

Mike merely chuckled, until the floor of 2B-4 did indeed open.  Mike
fell into the depths, screaming until his lungs could scream no more.
The hold closed, leaving those in Indian Hill very perplexed....

*******************************************************************************

This, then, is the legacy of Mail Wars II.  NOW you know why the story was
never completed.  NOW you know what AT&T's summer students REALLY do for a
living.....