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Path: works!merk!alliant!linus!agate!ames!network.ucsd.edu!usc!wupost!ukma!wasp!math.ufl.edu!maple.circa.ufl.edu!MONGO From: mongo@maple.circa.ufl.edu (Bryan Slatner) Newsgroups: alt.bbs.allsysop Subject: The Book of Dead, Part IV Message-ID: 1992Feb13.223355.3957@math.ufl.edu Date: Thu, 13 Feb 1992 22:33:16 GMT Sender: news@math.ufl.edu Reply-To: MONGO%oak.decnet@pine.circa.ufl.edu Organization: The CIRCA Underground Lines: 2645

NOTE TO USENET READERS:

   If you would like to receive copies of the first three parts of this,

I'll be more than happy to mail them to your or to repost them to the news- group where you read this.

Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions PRESENTS . . .

  • * DEAD IV * *
  1. – OR —
                          REVENGE OF THE
                   SIBERIAN DWARF TEENAGE MUTANT
                 NINJA SAMURAI BBS GIRLS FROM HELL
                    WITH HORMONES THAT GO BUMP
                     (OR BANG, IF YOU PREFER)
                           IN THE NIGHT
  1. OR -
                            DAWN OF THE
                           TURGID MEMBERS
  • * A ROMANCE INTRODUCTION: ————- We've all seen it happen. It works something like this: o A female logs on to a BBS o She posts a couple of messages o Some male users determine the gender of the poster o They all fall in love with her I've seen far too many of these "fly by night" BBS romances in my time to go on without making horrible fun of them. In fact, I must admit, that I HAVE fallen in love with more than one girl just because she knew how to use a keyboard. Well, I have a life now and those days are over. Hopefully this file will be an eye-opener to some people. In most of the cases I've seen, it's the ladies that are the cause of this mess. They're flirtatious, fickle, and generally don't give two hoots about the guys whose minds they're messing with. In short: cock teasers. This is not to say that the guys aren't at fault: they are. As my boss once commented to me "Son, there is no force in the WORLD more powerful than a hard dick." I've since found that this is far too true. Some guys see new female users and their dicks get hard. I'm convinced that this is a function of evolution. In fact, it is my hypothesis that for every five CPU's, there is one hard dick. Of course, I haven't actually RESEARCHED that, but it certainly SEEMS to be true. Let me state outright that the above two paragraphs do NOT pertain to ALL users. Mostly, they pertain to adolescent users. Adolescent males, as most of us know, have the largest population of hard dicks in the world. Adolescent females, as most of us know, have some of the most finely honed cock-teasing skills that exist (and most of THEM don't even KNOW they possess these skils). Let me tell you how I think these heartbreaking BBS romances come about, and some of the circumstances under which they happen. It's no secret that a LARGE portion of BBS users are male. In fact, there are WHOLE LOT more males using BBSes than women. Why this is, I don't dare speculate, lest some femi-nazi group should find it offensive. In any event, the large population of males sees this small population of women and they go crazy. Its like a "see who's more macho" type of thing. If Gelbarion were here, I'm sure he'd be nodding his Arnold-like head in agreement. Also, males will say things over a computer to a woman that they would never DARE say to her face. We all remember puberty, and the crushes we had then. We also remember that we lived in ETERNAL FEAR that ANYONE might find out about who the object of our affections were. In the world of peer-to-peer chats, this fear doesn't exist. Why? Several reasons: o You're not face-to-face. o If you choose, you can be ABSOLUTELY certain no one else is around. o If someone DOES find out, and the embarassment is too much for you to take, you can always change your username, or stop calling the BBS. Here in Gainesville (the home of Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions) there's been a whole lot of these BBS romances going on lately. I'm telling you, some of the things I've seen recently would make the most popular soap opera in the world. Mind you, I'm not trying to put a damper on love. I think love is great. Love is wonderful. But most of these BBS romances have nothing to do with love. Mostly, I've found, that the mere *IDEA* that you can find someone to be *attractive* without EVER SEEING THEM is so NOVEL to some people, that they can do NOTHING but ASSUME it's love. Well, anyway, that's enough preaching for now. Enjoy the file, and while you're lauging, try and understand the sheer ABSURDITY that underlies the plot, and maybe you can save someone (maybe even yourself) a few broken hearts. And now, on with the show. ———————————————————————- PART I - A New Beginning ———————————————————————- Our heroes are all lying collapsed on Sysop's living room floor (and wouldn't you know it, it still hasn't been cleaned). Smoke curls about them. They have just emerged from their journey into cyberspace. Imaginos: Man, I feel like shit. Admiral Asshole: You too? Sysop: I'm glad that's over! Wostgheel (weakly): meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee tooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Beopunk Cyberwulf: OKAY! New rule! If we're gonna have singing, it's gotta be thematic! This is a romance, goddamit! Admiral Asshole (smiling, like the cat that swallowed the canary): But, dude, that leaves out heavy metal completely! Beopunk Cyberwulf (swearing): Shit! On sec— Sysop (interrupting): Motion seconded! Gelbarion: Thirded? Is that a word? Sysop: Yes, but not necessary! Let's put it to a vote. A vote is taken. Heavy metal music is defeated by a vote 4-2. Opera is defeated by a vote of 5-1. They argue incessantly and finally decide on "country western" as that's the most depressing kind of music there is, and fits in well with a romance. Imaginos: If yoooouuuuuuuuuu shot mah dawg with yoooooorrr rahfle Or yoooooooooouuuu had sehx with mah sheeeeeeeeeep I'd haaaaaaaaaaaavvvvee to cut awfffffffffff your peeeeeeeenis And barrrrry it siiiiiiiiix feet deeeeeeeeeeep! Wostgheel: Well, aside from this new affinity for country caterwauling, there doesn't seem to be any lasting effects. Sysop: Yeah, hopefully we'll get by for a while without any problems or serious repercussions. In a bizarre twist of fate and irony, the doorbell picks this moment to ring. How much ya wanna bet it's NOT the Avon Lady? Sysop gets up and goes to the door. He peeks through the eye in the door and then turns to the others in alarm. Sysop: Shit! It's an MP! All eyes turn to Gelbarion. Admiral Asshole: Did you go AWOL, Gelb? Gelbarion: No, it was not me! There is a sharp intake of breath from Beopunk Cyberwulf, and all eyes turn to him. Sysop: Beo, what did you do? Beopunk Cyberwulf (finger in mouth, eyes downcast [you thought we forgot that one, didn't you??? ed.]): Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll. [Pauses] I figured as long as we were on the Internet, I'd do something about replacing your computer… Sysop: And? (Voice from outside the door): Hey, somebody wanna open up and help me haul in this Cray? There is a Speedy Gonzalez sound as EVERYBODY–even Windows Freak ™ Wostgheel and Amigan Beopunk Cyberwulf–rushes outside. There is then the sound of electronic components being taken apart and reassembled indoors at high speed. 47.3 seconds later, the Cray sits in Sysop's bedroom. Too bad he'll never fit in there to sleep again. Sysop (kissing Beopunk Cyberwulf): Beo, you shouldn't have! [He looks around] Where's Gelb? (Gelbarion's voice from outside, muffled): And twenty five dollars for the arm band! Oh, and can I have your gun? Fifty dollars! My best offer! Oh, and I REALLY want that helmet! Sysop: Answers that question. Admiral A, Imaginos, go get him while the rest of us decide what we're going to do with this incredible hardware. Imaginos and Admiral A leave. Beopunk Cyberwulf: Ummmm, I don't even want to THINK about what turning it on is going to do to your electric bill! Wostgheel (still floating on a cyberspace high): We could always go back into the net and FIX his electric bill! Beopunk Cyberwulf: WE we or YOU we? Sysop: Not neccessary, I'm gonna make this sucker pay for itself? Others: Huh? Sysop (slighly): How many com ports can this sucker support? Wostgheel: Would you like that figure in scientific notation? Sysop: Exactly. Beopunk Cyberwulf: Dude, you're not going to start charging, are you? Sysop: Sorta. With that many com ports I can run two systems. One free, the other pay. The pay will be multi-line. Beopunk Cyberwulf: Yeah, now I get it! Wostgheel: Of course! Draggin' Tail being down, you're going to fill the multi-line void in Gainesville. Beopunk Cyberwulf (mumbling): Or replace it, rather. They all laugh. While they're cackling, there is the sound of gunshots from outside. They all run to the window. Imaginos (from outside): Take THAT you limp wristed commie bastard! Sysop: PKUNZIP Imaginos. Imaginos: I'm immune now, thhhhhhhhbbbbbbbbb! Sysop: ARJ A -JM1 Imaginos Imaginos: ! Sysop: Shut up. Imaginos: !!! !!!, !!!!!!!! Beopunk Cyberwulf: Dude, you compressed him up so tightly, he can't even talk! Imaginos: !! Gelbarion: Indeed, he is tighter than Arnold's buttocks! Admiral Asshole (shouting up): Remind me to remind you to send that Robert K. Jung guy a check!! Imaginos: ! Beopunk Cyberwulf (turning to Sysop): I'll go down and help those idiots dispose of the body. Beopunk Cyberwulf goes downstairs. Wostgheel and Sysop spend the next three hours raiding various BBSes and FTP sites and configuring the BE-ALL-END-ALL multi-user BBS system (and you can bet your ASS it ain't Galacticomm!). The others are still not back. While speculating as to where they have taken the MP's body, they set about porting the old BBS software over to the cray. As can be expected, it runs much faster. When they finish, Sysop becomes the sysop of two, count them two, BBSes: the "New and Improved Crucible" (FREE, but for adults and Discordians only), and "The Definitately NOT Run on a Stolen Military Cray BBS" (10 lines with more to come, all welcome regardless of age or IQ so long as they have a wallet; colloquially referred to as the "Not a Cray BBS"). The others arrive just in time for the ceremonial launching of both systems. Imaginos whips a bottle out of his pocket which, in its compressed state, explodes due to the pressure differential and showers the whole room in "Zambini Brothers Fruit Wine and Dessert Topping." In general, there is much rejoicing. Everyone logs on to both systems and inaugurates the message bases with high weirdness. Sysop even unARJs Imaginos–temporarily–so that he can log on to Not A Cray as Clutch Cargo. ———————————————————————- () (oO) — "Part II - And God Created de Wimmen" /———-\/ /:: : / :: : * ::——–:: ^^ ^^ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Some of you self-proclaimed experts of Cowentology ™ are sitting bolt upright in your chairs screaming "God, that's a FAT COW!" There is a reason for this: "fat cows," "women," and "BBSing" are three phrases that seem to go together more often than not. We now return you to our irregularly scheduled (and just as politically incorrect) romance. ———————————————————————- The scene: Sysop's "bedroom" (it used to be his bedroom, but now the Cray takes up so much space that he sleeps in his bathtub). It is now two months later and both BBSes are flourishing. The Crucible, strangely enough, is 99% male, 99% adult, and 99% hardcore BBSers. The "not a Cray," on the other hand, is loaded for bear with teenyboppers, weekend compu-geeks, and family people who just wanna have f(meaningless puerile debate)u(flames left and right)n(pubescent nonsense). On the UP side (there IS one?) a full 20% of the Not A Cray's callers are female. Granted, most of these are too young to fuck anyway. The scene shifts to the bedroom of one of these users (and we really mean that) whom we shall call Persephone. [Author's note: This is not her real name, but it ought to be a big hint to anyone who knows the Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions staff or has ever called the Draggin' Tail (Ye Olde Teenybopper Heaven)]. Persephone: Gosh, I sure am glad my parents bought me this modem! These BBS thingies sure are neat-o. I think I'll call the Not a Cray, or whatever it's called, again. They have some neat stuff there! She sits down at her computer and enters her terminal program. She pulls up the main screen which looks very orange since it's in amber monochrome. She selects a phone number from her dialing directory and hits [ENTER]. Her modem replies with a nice BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP and connects with a harsh whistle. She types a few lines and the Not a Cray's main menu appears before her. She types some more and begins scanning message bases. Seeing nothing of real interest, she goes back to the main menu and sees a label marked "The First Cyberspace Church of High Weirdness." Under this menu, she proceeds to read the first three of the DEAD series, not knowing that EVEN AT THAT MOMENT we were plotting to write the fourth part about HER! Oh, the irony. The scene ends. Fade to three hours later. Persephone is on the phone, talking to Cicada [NOTE: Also not her real name, but a Cicada is an annoying little bug, and so is she. And a VERY CUTE annoying little bug at that!]. Persophone: I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOO glad you told me about the Not a Cray BBS! It's soooooooooo neat! Cicada: Yeah! But you don't write anything in the message bases! You need to get in there! Persephone: I know…but I'm shy. Cicada: SO?! Nobody'll knows who you are 'cept me and Madelaine. WRITE SOMETHING!! Persephone: I don't know… Cicada: PLEASE! Get a life! Persephone: Okay! Okay! I'll post something! Cicada: And after people get to know you, you have to start coming to the parties! Persephone: NO WAY! I'd just DIE! Cicada: And at the parties they want to eat their dates! Persephone: They eat that weird fruit! GROSSSSSS! Cicada: NOT! You're SOOOOOOOOO naive Pers! They wan't to eat YOUR fruit! Persophone: GEROSSSSSSSSSS! Cicada: Hee hee hee! Your BUD, hee hee hee. Persephone: GEROSSSSSSSSSS! New scene. Persephone is once again logging on to Not a Cray. She goes into the message bases, like before, and begins scanning. She sees, finally, a message of interest. > In a message dated 2/9/93, Beopunk Cyberwulf writes: > We don't need CONDOMS in our schools! We need an END to > promiscuity! Don't wave those little latex jobs in MY face or I'll > burn your legs off! Message command [R, D, N, Q]: R Replying to Beopunk Cyberwulf . . . Hey, it's the MAN's job to provide birth control! I mean, I'm letting him stick his ugly thing INSIDE me! Besides, it's less messy that way. I mean, who wants to look at something that looks like an infected hot dog? GEROSS! Wrap that thang! /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ < persephone > FEMINIST AND PROUD! < wanna see > < my pomegrante? > (Eat *MY* fruit?!?) \/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/ AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM Diskwiz: An infected hot dog? Dedaparamaxx: Can YOU think of something better? Diskwiz: A hot dog? Dedaparamaxx: Well, what do YOU think it looks like? Diskwiz: Majestic Ivory Tower of Lust? Dedaparamaxx: PuhLEEZ! You? Tower? Diskwiz: Is that a short joke? Dedaparamaxx: Go back to sleep. A few hours later. Persephone is talking to Madelaine [NOTE: Not her real name, but easily the most horny woman I know. Too bad she's such a tease] on the phone. Persephone: Yeah! Cicada was really bugging me to post something, so I wrote a reply to this Beopunk guy who's really into condoms! Madelaine: No way! You don't even know what a condom is! Persephone: Yes I do! They're like balloons, right? Only bigger? Madelaine: Yeah, but you don't give these out at a birthday party, unless you're into the group thing. Persephone: Group thing? Madelaine: Nevermind. The conversation drags on about "boyz" and "stuff" and "makeup." Finally, they hang up and Persephone calls Cicada. Cicada answers, sounding like she's just come out of a deep sleep. (Those who KNOW the real life inspiration for Cicada know that IN ADDITION TO BEING A VERY CUTE ANNOYING LITTLE BUG, she often sounds like that on the phone). Cicada: Hello? Persephone: Cic! Hi! You'll NEVER guess what I just did! Cicada: Oh my God, Pers! Who'd you sleep with??? Persephone: No one, you silly goose! I posted a message on Not a Cray on the alt.skum.sleeze forum! Cicada: No way! Persephone: Yes way! Cicada: Your number is unlisted, right? Tell me it is… Persephone: Actually it isn't. Cicada: Shit. Persephone: Shit? Don't say shit. I hate it when you say SHIT. Something always happens when you say SHIT. Cicada: OHMYGODYOUMUSTBESTUPID!!!!!! SHIT! Persephone: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!??!?!? Cicada: You'll know when Frog calls! Persephone: Frog?!? Cicada: Hee! Hee! Hee! Or BigZero. Persephone: BigZero?!? Cicada: Hee! Hee! Hee! Or Monk! Persephone: Monk?!? Cicada: Hee! Hee! Hee! Persephone: Why are you giggling?!? Cicada: Hee! Hee! Hee! ———————————————————————- () (oo) ——– Part III - They Call /——-\/ /:: : * ::-@\–:: ^^ ^^

AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER

          A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Dedaparamaxx: Where the hell is Bluejeans? Diskwiz: I dunno! He was supposed to be here an hour ago! Dedaparamaxx: I called Jazz's house. He wasn't there. Diskwiz: Oh well. Tell me, though, when do we get to the sex? Dedaparamaxx: That's coming. No pun intended. Diskwiz: Well, type FASTER, idiot!

   Persephone  is  lying on her bed.  It is covered in satin sheets,

unlike the normal cotton sheets that were on it a scene ago. Persephone is clad in a scanty black teddy, which is odd since she doesn't even know what a teddy IS. She has her hands clasped behind her head and she has that certain look of lust on her face that only 14 year old girls can have (yes, we're sick. yes, we have shoehorns). This look is not quite the look of puking in a toilet when hungover, but slightly more affectionate than that look you get just after eating spinach.

   She  begins  rubbing  her  grape-sized breasts with her hands.  A

male figure, whose face is kind of obscured, walks into the picture and lays down on the bed next to her. He reaches inside the teddy and begins massaging her breasts and kissing her gently about the next and chest. She moans softly, instinctively thrusting her hips toward nothing in particular. The obfuscated male figure moves his Roman Hands downward toward her budding <*>. Persephone moans louder. Slowly, the male figure removes the teddy and leaves her naked on the bed. Her chest is heaving, her grape-sized breasts attempting to jiggle passionately. The air is full of the musky odor of forbidden love. The stench, if you will, of forbidden love.

   The  male  figure  removes  his Fruite de los Loomes underwear to

reveal a turgid [ie, bloated, distended, swollen, tumid, bombastic, flamboyant, grandiloquent] member. He mounts Persephone and her eyes stare at him expectantly. He thrusts [ie, pounds, pushes forward, stabs, penetrates, you get the picture]. . .

   The phone rings and Persephone is awakened from her dream.

AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Diskwiz:

   Why'd you stop, man?!?!  Why'd you stop??!!?

Dedaparamaxx:

   Can YOU come up with a good follow up for "He thrusts . . ." ?

Diskwiz:

   Well, this IS a family show.

Dedaparamaxx (singing):

   It's a story,
   Of a lovely lady!

Diskwiz:

   But I still have my imagination.

Dedaparamaxx:

   Do you need to be alone for a while?

Diskwiz:

   Turgid member.  How perfect!

Persephone: Hello? <gasp> Frog: Hi! Is this Persephone? Persephone: Uh, yeah… Frog: You're a girl, right? Persephone: Last time I checked. Are you a male? Frog: In a BIG way <snicker, snicker>. Persephone: Huh? Frog: Um, I'm going to the mall today. You wanna meet me at the mall? Persephone: Uh, sure! Frog: Great! See you at 2:00? At the arcade? I'll be playing Siberian Dwarf Teenage Mutant French Commando Waiters from Hell. Persephone: Uh, sure! Frog: Okay, bye! Frog hangs up. Persephone: How ODD! The phone rings again. Persephone: Hello? BigZero: Uh, hi! This is BigZero! Are you Persephone? Persephone: Yeah. BigZero: I knew you were a girl! Hot damn! Persephone: Huh? BigZero: Uh, you wanna meet me at Wendy's today? Say around 3:00? I'll be the one eating the Dave's Deluxe with extra mayo. Persephone: Uh, sure! BigZero: Great! See you there! BigZero hangs up. Persephone: How ODD! Two picoseconds later, the phone rings again. Persephone: Hello? Monk: Uh, hi! Is this Persephone? Persephone: Uh, yeah! Monk: You're a girl, aren't you? Persephone: Pretty sure! Monk: Cool! Do you wanna meet me at the movies around 4:00? I'll be the one wearing the "200 years of Shakespeare" shirt. Persephone: Okay! Monk: Cool, see you there! Monk hangs up. Persephone: How, ODD! The phone rings. [Astute readers will have no doubt deduced a pattern in this nonsense. Not so astute readers will be masturbating]. Persephone: Hello? Gelbarion: Hello. My name is Gelbarion. I wish to woo you as Conan wooed his mates. Persephone: Conan? Gelbarion: Umm, would you meet me at the health club at say, 5:00 o'clock? Persephone: Uh, sure! Gelbarion: Great! You will not regret it when you see my Arnold-like prowess.

                  AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER
          A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Diskwiz: Uh, dude! There's been no sex for TWO WHOLE PAGES! What's WRONG with you. (Looks strangely at Dedaparamaxx). You're not, like, uh, (he holds out his hand and wiggles his wrist back and forth) are you? Dedaparamaxx: No. How else would I know what symbol to use for this: <*> Diskwiz: Pictures? Dedaparamaxx: If you shut up, I'll put in more sex real soon, okay? Diskwiz: !!!(*)!!!

Cut to:

   Sysop's room.  His best friend,  Meg O'Ram,  is sitting on what's

left of his bed with him. Meg is a sweet looking girl, in her early twenties, who Gelbarion would most likely rape on sight.

Sysop:

   So, what do you think of the new system?

Meg:

   Um.  It's big.

Sysop:

   You wanna see big?

Meg:

   Oh  stop  it!  Well,  how  about  giving me that message base you

promised me so long ago?

Sysop:

   Okay okay!  It's not like I don't have the storage space for it!

Meg:

   Heheheh.  I don't mean to pry, but where exactly DID you get this

thing?

Sysop:

   Long story.  You don't even WANT to know.  You may  get  to  find

out though in Dead V, Raiders of the Lost Byte (blatant plug).

Meg:

   You're funny.
   Sysop begins typing at one of the Cray's terminals.

Sysop:

   What do you want to call the base, Meg?

Meg:

   Dear Meg?

Sysop:

   Too  cliche.  Try  something  else.  Advice  columns don't ALWAYS

have to be titled Dear Somebodyerother.

Meg:

   Meg's Place?  Ohhhhhhh.  Why do *I* always get the HARD ones??

Sysop:

   Cuz you're the prettiest, my dear.
                [ Diskwiz: that's it? MORE SEX!!! ]

Meg (blushing):

   You're just saying that...

Sysop:

   Yup.  You're right.
   Meg slaps Sysop playfully, knocking out three teeth.

Meg:

   Okay, okay.  We'll call it "Meg's Melodrama." How's that?

Sysop:

   Lame, but okay.
   Sysop types some more on the terminal.

Sysop:

   Okay, it's done.  Ready whenever you are.

         (__)
         (oo) -------- Part IV - Meg's Melodrama
  /-------\/
 /::      :
* ::-@\--::
  ^^     ^^

———————————————————————-

   The scene:  Meg O'Ram sitting at one of  the  terminals  littered

about Sysop's house. She is browsing through her new advice-columnish message base. Most of the messages are boring. Most people have advice to ask about how to get back together with their ex- boy/girlfriends. The very last message, however, piques her interest.

            [ Diskwiz: Can't it pique her NIPPLES?!?! ]
               [ Dedaparamaxx: I'm coming to that. ]

From: Persephone (user #2047893871.2) To : Meg O'Ram (user #3.1415926536) Subj: HELP!

Dear Meg:

   I  have a really big problem.  I'm a cute 14 year old girl in her

teens. There are four, count them FOUR guys, and all of them want to go out with me. I really like all of them, but I'm in love with someone else who doesn't love me. What should I do?

   Meg pauses,  as if in thought.  Hesitantly,  she replies  to  the

message.

Message command [R, D, N, Q]: R Replying to Persephone . . .

Dearest Persephone:

   A lot of girls should be so lucky!  Share the wealth!  Do any  of

them have turgid members? Hahahah. Meg O'Ram was only joking. Seriously, though, if the guy YOU LOVE doesn't like you, you ought to be looking elsewhere. I mean, there's a whole lot of fish in the sea, am I right? Pick one of them, and fuck him. No no no, another joke. What you should do is go out with each of them, in turn, decide which of them, if any, you like best, and go out with that one!

   Happy member, er, male hunting!
              Meg.

Cut to: Persephone's bedroom. She is on the bed, dreaming.

   The  dream resumes where it left off.  The obfuscated male figure

continues thrusting. Persephone moans louder. The OBFMF (obfuscated male figure) becomes more insistent with his pounding. His teeth can be seen clearly: they are bared in a grimace of intense sexual concentration. Persephone's eyes are closed. Her face is twisted into what might be a look of pain. She cries out and begins thrusting her hips in time with her OBFMF's motions. "Oooooooooh, ooooooooh" she cries, summoning up instincts that have been with her since birth. She clasps the man's buttocks with her fingernails, almost ripping gouges in his flesh. She pulls, no FORCES, the turgid member deeper and deeper. Her head pounds back and forth on the pillow, as if she is shaking her head "no," when in fact she is saying "OOOOOOOOOOOH YES!" She removes one hand from the man's buttocks and reaches under the bed and pulls out a really long leather wh–

AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Dedaparamaxx:

   DISKWIZ!!  Get the hell away from the keyboard!!!!!

Diskwiz:

   But it was just getting to the good part!

Dedaparamaxx:

   NOW, 'Wiz!

Diskwiz:

   Just let me finish this scene.

Dedaparamaxx:

   NO!  It's MY computer and MY word processor.  Now 'git!

Diskwiz:

   Can't have any fun, sigh.

Dedaparamaxx:

   Go back to sleep.

The phone rings, awakening Persephone. Persephone: Hello? <gasp> Lord Mom: Is this Persephone? Persephone: Uh, yeah! Lord Mom: Hi! Everybody calls me Lord Mom because I'm like a second mother to them. You know, I've been watching you on the board for some time, and you seem really sweet, innocent, and naive. Persephone: Uh, yeah? Lord Mom: You mind if I ask you a personal question? Peresphone: Uh, no. Lord Mom: Are you a virgin? Persephone: YES! Of COURSE! Lord Mom: Will you marry me? Persephone: Will you give me time to think about it? Lord Mom: Yeah, sure. Make it quick though. If we are gonna get married, I want you while you're still perky and clean. Persephone: No. Lord Mom: No what? Persephone: No, I won't marry you. You're gross. Lord Mom: Will you go out with me at least? Persephone (sighing mightilly): I suhPOSE! Where do you want to meet? Lord Mom: At the school board meeting tonight? Persephone hangs up. Cut to: The mall. Persephone is standing outside the arcade, wondering if she should go inside. She looks over to the Siberian Dwarf Teenage Mutant French Commando Waiters from Hell game and sees a sizeable blonde fellow eagerly twisting the joystick and hammering buttons. As you may have guessed, this guy is Frog. He LOVES pressing buttons. Persephone walks hesitantly through the door to the arcade and wanders over to where Frog is eagerly beating the shit out of Turgid Space Wiener Schnitzel. She places a hand on his shoulder and he turns to look at her. There is rapture in his eyes. Frog: Wow! You're a babe! Persephone (blushing): Thanks. Frog: Wanna fuck? Persephone: NOOOOOOOOO! What kind of a girl do you think I am? Frog: One who dreams about obfuscated male figures with turgid members. Persephone (blushing): HOW'D YOU KNOW?!?! Frog: I read ahead in the script. Persephone (aghast): You BRUTE! Frog: Oh, please don't be mad! I LOVE YOU! Persephone: You hardly KNOW me! Frog: I know! But you're the girl of my dreams! I just have to have you! I'd KILL myself if I couldn't have you. Persephone runs screaming from the arcade. Cut to: Wendy's. Persephone walks through the front door and sees he who can ONLY be BigZero. Not only is he BIG, and not only does he look like ABSOLUTE ZERO, but he is eating a Dave's Deluxe with enough mayonnaise to satisfy his recommended daily allowance of mayonnaise three hundred times over. [Perverse readers will liken this glob of mayo unto "jizm," as Kurt Vonnegut Jr. affectionately refers to it. Perverse readers see the obvious] Hesitantly, Persephone walks over to the table and sits down. BigZero: I just KNEW you were a girl! Hot damn! Persephone: Ack! I just met Frog. What a PIG! BigZero: Yeah. Hey, you wanna fuck? Persephone: PLEASE! I'm not that kind of girl! BigZero: Into the kinky stuff??? Persephone (aghast): NO! Oh, you men are ALL alike! SOB! BigZero: Oh, please don't cry! I LOVE YOU! I would never do anything to hurt you! Please, if you're mad at me, I'll kill myself! Persephone: ACK! Persephone runs screaming from the restaurant. Cut to: The movie theatre. Persephone walks up the steps to the front of the theatre. Slurping a slurpee in front of the advertisements stands Monk, wearing a "200 hundred years of Shakespeare" T-Shirt. Persephone walks up to him. She thinks he is very cute. Monk sees her and looks on her with lust in his eyes. Persephone: HI! Monk: Hi there! What movie do you want to see? Persephone: Can't we go someplace quiet and just TALK! I just met Frog and BigZero. They are SO NASTY! Monk: Sure! We could go over to Sysop's place. You could meet him and then later maybe we can go out and get a bite to eat! Persephone: I'd love to, but I have to meet Gelbarion at the health club at five! Monk: Oh, well, maybe some other time. Wanna meet Sysop? Persephone: Sure! They go to Monk's car and get in. Cut to: Sysop's front door. The blood stains from the MP are nearly gone. Sysop has been trying for weeks to get them out and has discovered that "Zambini Brothers Fruit Wine and Dessert Topping" works the best for removing blood stains. Monk and Persephone walk up to the front door. Monk knocks. There is the sound of papers shuffling, dishes breaking, and cats being stepped on from inside the house. Moments later, Sysop opens the door! Sysop: Monk! Dude! I just left you e-mail! As it is, I've been SOOOOOOO bored all day long. I've just been sitting on my system all day chatting about all kinds of nonsense. And oh, by the way, Frog called and said that you shouldn't go out with "That Persephone Bitch" because he thinks she's a real whore. Well, I've talked to her a couple of times and she seems pretty nice. Oh, as it is, she was on this morning and left some mail for you. Do you want to go upstairs and read it? Oh, anyway, like I said I've been chatting all day long and let me tell you I have some pretty brain dead users. There's this guy who logged on earlier trying to convince me that there are DIFFERENT VERSIONS of ANSI? Can you believe that? I said to him "Dude, ANSI is a STANDARD." I mean, Jesus, what a nerd. Oh, who's this you have with you? [NOTE: When he's not going off on adventures with the DEAD people Sysop, aka Morgan Bluejeans, is an extremely VERBOSE fellow. We affectionately call him TANGENT but the affection sometimes wears VERY THIN when trying to get a word in edgewise. We love you anyway, BJ. SMOOOOOOOCH!] Monk (his hair pinned to the top of his head from the wind that has just blown past him): Oh, this is Persephone. Persephone: Hi! Suddenly all goes dark and everyone freezes into stillness. Spotlights fall on Sysop and Persephone. For some strange reason, the dancers from Dead II sneak in dressed like the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. For some other strange reason, Sysop is now decked out like Sigfried from Wagner's "Ring Cycle" and Persephone is decked out like Brunhilde. Sysop makes a fine sight with his mighty sword and his viking helmet. Sysop breaks into song: You wait, little girl, On an empty stage. For fate to turn the light on. Your life, little girl, Is an empty page That men will want to write on, To write on. You are fourteen going on fifteen, Baby, it's time to think! Better beware be canny and careful, Baby, you're on the brink! Persephone: I am fourteen, going on fifteen, I know that I'm naive. Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet And willingly I'll believe! Enter Wostgheel from outside (he was scrubbing blood stains): WAIT JUST A MINUTE! This is supposed to be OPERA, dammit! We will not stand for this Rogers and Hammerstein nonsense! Sysop (stage whisper): Dammit, Wost! I'm not allowed to sing opera! Wostgheel: Well, you're the one who outlawed it. Sysop: Roit! The lights go out. A moment later, the spot lights again fall on Persephone and Sysop. This time, Sysop is decked out like Billy the Kid and Persephone looks like your typical schoolmarm. Sysop takes her by the hand and leads her into the house. Monk looks very jealous. Sysop (singing): Watch your head on the roof, Gotta let your eyes adjust, Sorry about your suit, Can't do nuthin' 'bout the dust. Welcome down underground, Hunker down a spell, It gets to feel like home to me, Though I know it looks like hell. Sysop kicks away a hunk of mouldy pizza boxes, and an old cat. Persephone (speaking): Actually, it's not that bad. Sysop: Ya really like it? Persephone: Sure! (Singing) Your house may be a pig sty, But pigs are kinda sweet, And though I don't quite know why, I think this place is neat. Oh sure it's kinda musty, With slime molds–grapefruit sized! And so VERY awfully dusty, That your couch lies there disguised! You may call it a disaster sight, And not a house, as such, But everything will be all right, It just needs a woman's touch! She starts to pick up the assorted filth that is scattered about. Sysop: You don't have to do that! Persephone: But I want to! Sysop leans over to take a mildewed t-shirt from her hand. There fingers meet (Close up, play love theme from Lolita). Suddenly, Sysop's grandfather clock (actually, it was Wostgheel, wanting to move the scene along) chimed five times. The lights go out for a moment, and everyone except Persephone freezes. Persephone: Oh boogersnots! I have to go meet Gelbarion now! Though he is frozen, a small frown plays across Sysop's face. Persephone: Don't worry, I'll be back! She leaves. Even so, Sysop is smiling. The lights dim again and everyone unfreezes. The country western garb that everyone was wearing is replaced with normal clothing. We hear, offstage, Gelbarion saying "And this is a picture of me at the Arnold Schwarzenegger School of Being German and Looking Tough. This is my room mate Helga." We hear Persephone saying "Wow! How neat!" She actually means it, dear God. Fade to black.

                  AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER
          A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Bluejeans: I'm starting to feel guilty here. I mean, this isn't how it happened. Dedaparamaxx: This is fiction, dammit! Diskwiz: So when does he fuck her? Bluejeans launches himself over a chair and beats Diskwiz for several moments with the nearest object before he realizes that the nearest object is Imaginos's pink fuzzy bunny slipper. Diskwiz is unimpressed, but feigns injury so as not to wound Bluejeans's pride. Bluejeans turns back to Dedaparamaxx. Bluejeans: You're missing the point. Dedaparamaxx: There is one? Bluejeans: Yeah. You see, whether it actually happened that way or not, the people who read this and KNOW "Persephone" are going to think that she's some world class bitch. Dedaparamaxx: She isn't? Bluejeans sighs. He leaves the room. He comes back a few moments later, with a beer, and seats himself on Dedaparamaxx's bed. He drinks the entire beer in about six seconds. Then he looks up. Bluejeans: No. She isn't. Diskwiz (looks around for bunny slippers, sees none, and continues): Thhhhhhhhhhhhbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb. Bluejeans and Dedaparamaxx: GO BACK TO SLEEP!

         (__)
         (@@) -------- Part V - A Parting of the Ways
  /-------\/                        or
 /::      :            "The Breaking of the Fellowship"
* ::-@\--::
  ^^     ^^

———————————————————————-

What follows is a delightful montage of idyllic scenes:

              Sysop walking Persephone through a museum.
              Gelbarion buying two tickets to Terminator III.
              Monk cooking Persephone some beef goulash.
              Sysop coaching Persephone for a drama tryout.
              Gelbarion teaching Persephone backfist techniques.
              Monk with a bloody nose.
              Sysop picking Persephone up at school and  taking  her
                      on a picnic.
              Gelbarion  buying  a  double  membership at the health
                      club.
              Sysop  and  Persephone  installing  four  new incoming
                      lines on the "Not a Cray."
              Gelbarion and Persephone at the beach (there is a body
                      building competition).
              Sysop and Persephone visiting Monk at the hospital.
              Gelbarion  renting  "Kindergarten  Cop"  for  a  quiet
                      evening in.
              Sysop and Persephone  at  a  local  50's  style  diner
                      sharing a milkshake.

Fade in to:

   Sysop logging to the Crucible.  He sees that a new user has  been

on. Her name is "Circe Nymph." He looks up her user record and sees that it is Persephone. Pleased, he checks for mail.


From: Circe Nymph To : Sysop Subj: I'm heeeeeeeerrree!

   Well,  you wanted me to try out this half of the system so I  am.

From what I can see, it looks real neat-o. I'll look around more later, but for now I have to go. Mom's calling me to dinner and then I have a date with Gelbarion.

   Luvvies,
      Persy.

———————————————————————-

   Sysop  reads  the last sentence twice.  Then reads it twice more.

His jaw drops. He shakes his head a few times, flicks his monitor on and off, and looks at the screen again.

Sysop:

   No.  It's still there.  A DATE WITH GELBARION!?!?!?
   Sysop  picks  up  the phone and dials Gelb's number.  A few rings

later, Gelb's answering machine picks up.

Gelbarion (recorded):

   All  right.   I'm  not  here  right  now,  I'm  on  a  date  with

Persephone. But leave a message at the sound of the Uzi, unless you are the type of little girly man who hangs up when an machine answers the phone.

   (Staccato gunfire)
   For  the  first  time  in  his life,  Sysop actually can not find

words. He hangs up the phone, sits down, gulps air a few times, and watches as everything in his room seems to fade into the distance. For a moment, music plays, but he is suddenly too nauseous to sing, so the music dies.

Shift to:

   The main entrance to the mall.  Enter Persephone  with  one  tiny

bag from "The Limited." Behind her, on the other hand, Gelbarion carries twelve huge parcels from "Cutlery World."

Gelbarion:

   You know something, you were right!  Shopping can be fun!
   Gelb looks around to make sure nobody else heard him say that.

Persephone:

   I told ya, silly!  Hmmm, I still think it was a mark of bad taste

to actually threaten the sales clerk with the Bowie knife when he refused to chop ten bucks off the price!

Gelbarion:

   Only DEMOCRATS pay full price.

Persephone (in mock shock):

   But Gelb!  Sysop's a democrat, and he's your friend!

Gelbarion:

   Are you sure?

Persephone:

   Well, I think that's what he said.

Gelbarion (visibly agitated now):

   When did he tell you this?

Persephone:

   At  Steak  and  Shake  the  other  night.  We  were  splitting  a

milkshake and he was helping me with my American History homework. Gawd, my teacher loved the essay he wrote for me!

Gelbarion:

   You had a date?  With Sysop?!?!

Persephone:

   Well, yeah!

Gelbarion:

   You are dating him too?

Persephone:

   Oh boogersnots!  Did I say something wrong?

Gelbarion:

   Why did you not tell me this before?

Persephone:

   Did it make a difference?  I told him.

Gelbarion (angry now):

   He  knows  you  are already seeing me?  How very dishonorable and

girlyish of him.

   He  strides  to  his  jeep,  angrilly,  and  peels  off,  leaving

Persephone behind. Luckilly, Monk spots her while coming out of the arcade. He has just beaten Frog in a marathon match of Those Mighty Nifty Terrapins Take Manhattan and is feeling rather good.

Monk:

   Hiya!

Persephone (spinning around in surprise):

   Hi!
   Monk's hands fly up to protect his nose.  Seeing that she intends

no harm, he lowers his guard and approaches. Persephone blushes.

Persephone:

   Sorry 'bout your nose, by the way.

Monk:

   S'ok.  No permanent harm done.  In fact,  my drama coach says I'm

a shoo-in for the part of Caliban in "the Tempest".

Persephone:

   You're gonna be playing SHAKESPEARE??!?

Monk (Now, HE'S blushing):

   Well, it's only a community college production, but yeah...

Persephone:

   Oh, NEAT!  Um, I really AM sorry about your nose.

Monk:

   It's ok.  I understand.  I shouldn't have snuck  up  on  you  and

shouted "Landshark!"

Persephone (suddenly changing the topic):

   You know...I never asked: How old are you?

Monk:

   Er...seventeen...why?

Persephone:

   Just  checking.  You  looked  much  younger than the other "Not A

Cray" guys who've asked me out and I was wondering…

Monk:

   Well, I'm not THAT much younger.

Persephone:

   Are too!

Monk:

   Are not!

Persephone:

   Are too!

Monk:

   Are not!

Persephone:

   Gelbarion is twenty and Sysop was just twenty-two.

Monk (dead in his tracks):

   Whoa!

Persephone:

   Yeah. It's flattering, but...

Monk:

   Speaking of Gelbarion,  wasn't that him I just saw peeling out in

his jeep?

Persephone:

   Yeah.  He left me.

Monk:

   Oh.  (a realization comes to him...) OH!  Do you need a lift?  My

van is over there.

Persephone:

   Um, yeah...Could you take me to Sysop's house?  That's where Gelb

is headed and I'd like to tell him what a boogerhead he's being.

Monk:

   Ok.

Scene shift to:

   Sysop's house.  It's FINALLY clean.  There is no  M.P.  blood  on

the walkway. There is no pizza on the couch. There is no dust on the table…or on the cat. There walls are very conspiciously NOT bleeding. There is no slime pouring from the faucets. Persephone has turned the place into a neat happy little home. Oh, GAG!

   Gelbarion stomps up the walkway.  He pulls his helmet and armband

out of his backpack and dons them. He straps his Colt .45 on his hip. He knocks on the door.

Sysop (muffled, from inside):

   Just a second!
   A few moments later,  Sysop appears at the  door.  His  eyes  are

downcast. Then he sees it's Gelb and his eyes darken even more.

Sysop (sarcastically):

   You're early, Gelb.  The "Twilight 2000" game doesn't start until

nine. What's the matter? DID YOU HAVE TO TAKE PERSEPHONE HOME EARLY OR SOMETHING?

Gelbarion:

   Shut up and let me in.
   Sysop steps aside.  He follows Gelbarion into  his  living  room.

As he does so, he looks around the room and wishes there were a pocket of slime somewhere for him to use as a possible weapon.

[Authors' Note: Here it is! The first, last, and only Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions FIGHT SCENE! YEAH!]

Gelbarion:

   You WILL stop dating Persephone.

Sysop (in a rasping sneer–in fact, he starts to look a lot like Jack Palance as the scene continues…)

   Funny.  I was just about to say the same to you.
   They glare at each other.
   And glare.
   And glare.
   And glare.

[Authors' Note: Ok. So we lied.]

Gelbarion:

   She is my woman!

Sysop:

   My GOD, Gelbarion! Listen to yourself.  You are treating her like

a piece of meat!

Gelbarion (pausing):

   Yes. So?

Sysop:

   She's  a  person!   With  feelings.   And   she   deserves   more

than…than…than…a granite-headed, cleft-chinned, dung-beetle- eating, gun-toting, insensitive Republican LOUT like yourself.

Gelbarion (in shock):

   I do NOT eat dung-beetles...You...You...DEMOCRAT!

Sysop:

   The English Language is insufficient to fully and comprehensively

manifest the infinite magnitude of your gross and detestable undesirability. So there…and fuck you!

Gelbarion:

   I  don't  understand  MOST  of  that.  But I know what "fuck you"

means and I don't like it.

   He swings at Sysop.

[Authors' Note: So we lied when we said we lied. Dontcha just hate a tease? Isn't that the whole point of this story, after all?]

   Sysop ducks.  Then backs away.

Sysop:

   Stay away from me, Gelbarion, and stay away from Persephone.  She

deserves better than you. She deserves me.

Gelbarion:

   Stealing another man's woman is like sleeping with his rifle.
   They both pause and try to make sense of that for a moment.  They

both fail miserably. Gelbarion swings again. Sysop ducks again. He backs up again. They are now standing in the kitchen. Gelbarion sees a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and picks it up to use as a club.

Sysop:

   Put that down, you moron!

Gelbarion:

   No.
   He swings at Sysop with the bottle.  He misses.

Sysop:

   I mean it, Gelb.  Put it down.  That's for Persephone.

Gelbarion:

   I knew it.  You evil,  un-Arnoldish person--you were planning  on

getting her drunk and taking advantage of her innocent (and blonde, hence very Germanic) person, weren't you?

Sysop (ducking under a stray phaser shot set on "Extreme Tick– [Authors' Note: Sorry. Bit of stray buffered material left over from Dead III. It shan't happen again…we promise…]

   er, ducking under the bottle):
   No, you doofus.  I was going to ask her to go steady with me.
   He  pulls a "steady ring" from his pocket.  It stops Gelbarion in

his tracks.

Gelbarion:

   But I saw her first.

Sysop:

   Actually,  I did.  Monk brought her here the day she met  all  of

you other guys…right before she met you at the health club.

Gelbarion:

   Don't  confuse  me with the facts.  Arnold never gets confused by

the facts.

Sysop:

   Arnold ALWAYS gets confused by the facts.

Gelbarion:

   That's what I meant.
   Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, Sysop leans forward,

takes the bottle deftly from Gelb's hand, flips him to the ground, and rolls him towards the door.

Gelbarion:

   How did you DO that?

Sysop:

   Simple.  I'm at the keyboard writing this part of the  script.  I

can do ANYTHING I WANT….even reformat Dedaparamaxx's hard drive. Beating the living snot out of you is a piece of cake!

AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Dedaparmaxx (whimpering softly):

   You wouldn't...would you?

Bluejeans (slyly):

   Maybe I would,  and maybe I wouldn't.  In fact,  maybe I  already

have and this entire word processing directory is being run on a RAM disk.

Diskwiz (shoving a slice of pizza in his mouth):

   Murfle murfle murfle.

Bluejeans:

   What?

Diskwiz (swallowing):

   I said "Ben, man, that's cold."

Bluejeans:

   Pass me the rest of the 'za and go to sleep, dude.

Diskwiz:

   But I don't wanna!

Bluejeans:

   ARJ A -JM1 Diskwiz

Diskwiz:

   !!!!

Bluejeans:

   ARJ A -JM1 Dedaparamaxx

Dedaparamaxx:

   File name too long error.

Bluejeans (grabbing a reference book):

   Oh, fuck.  Ummm, okay!  Old standby time!  PKARC A Dedaparamaxx.

Dedaparamaxx:

   I'm meeeeeeelllllllllllltttttttttttiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnngggg!
   Once again, for those of you who missed it, there is a "horrible,

ghastly silence." (And yes, dammit, this is a plug for Dead III).

Bluejeans:

   Ok...now,  back to work...if I'm gonna get  BLAMED  for  this,  I

might as well WRITE it. And THIS time, I'll GET the girl.

   Bluejeans  chokes  back  a  small sob as his fingers fly over the

keyboard.

Gelbarion: Saint Arnold, protect me! Send me a Valkyrie like you had in "Conan!" Just then, looking alot like Sandahl Bergman in "Conan", Persephone comes up the walkway with Monk. Gelbarion (looking heavenward): Is this supposed to be some kind of sick joke? THE AUTHORS (looking downward): Yes! Persephone (very mad): Will you two dorks please stop fighting? Gelb and Sysop: Say what? Yes. That's right. So shocked is Gelbarion that he drops the Austrian accent and speaks in the style of the average Cuban-American. It forms a wondrous counterpoint to Sysop's educated but still unmistakable Brooklyn (as in "New Yawk") accent. Sysop: But…But…I was WINNING, dammit! Persephone: Winning what, Sysop? Winning ME? I'm a person, remember? I can't be WON….so there, you doodyhead. (she continues) Besides, I don't want to go out with EITHER of you any more. You're both too old for me. I've decided to go steady with Monk. Sysop: But…but…this can't HAPPEN. Persephone: Yes, it can. Dedaparamaxx just took the keyboard away from you.

                  AUTHORS BICKERING AT EACH OTHER
          A BRIEF INTERRUPTION FROM THE WEIRDNESS STREAM

Dedaparamaxx: …and stay in your room until I say you can come out! Bluejeans (reaches for the bunny slippers): I hope you weawize this mean waw! Just then, Jeff (Beopunk Cyberwulf) The Riffer shows up with more pizza. He bashes Bluejeans over the head with a large anchovie pie, because nobody really wanted that anyway. When Bluejeans awakens, it is to the sound of this… Dedaparamaxx: I do knight thee Sir Riffer of the Avenging Pizza. Jeff: Aw, shucks. You love me, you really love me! Dedaparamaxx: Don't push it, Jeff.

Gelbarion:

   Where is Monk?  I will CRUSH him, like Arnold would.

Persephone:

   Leave him alone or I'll give you SUCH a chop!

Gelbarion (meekly):

   Can't I just crush him a little?

Persephone:

   No.  Go away, boogerhead.  (She kisses Monk, then turns to Sysop)

(To Sysop) This means I won't see YOU anymore either.

Sysop (dejected):

   I gathered that.

Persephone;

   I'll still call the Not A  Cray  and  be,  in  general,  a  pest,

though.

Sysop:

   I gathered that, too.

Persephone:

   Oh, don't pout.  I'll still be your friend.

Sysop (pouting):

   AAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!
   He runs inside and shuts the door.

Monk (calling after him):

   Dude, I'm REALLY sorry about this!

Sysop (from inside):

   AAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Persephone:

   Oh, he'll calm down...eventually...come on!  Let's go back to the

mall.

Monk:

   Sure.
   They drive off as the appropriate theme music plays.

                             EPILOGUE

———————————————————————-

   Persephone  was  wrong.  Sysop  did  not  calm down.  He remained

hyperkinetic for the rest of the DEAD series. He also has set his Crucible and Not a Cray accounts to ignore all private mail from her.

   Gelbarion  joined  the  Peace  Corps.  This  is  not  a joke.  Or

rather, it is a joke, but it is also an official part of the DEAD series timeline superceding all other references to Gelbarion's future. Nyah.

   Frog joined the navy.  End of paragraph.
   BigZero still is.
   Lord Mom, still is too, but nobody listens to him anymore.
   Monk  and  Persephone  split  up  after  a  few  months.  She  is

currently seeing "some football stud" at her high school. He is engaged to marry Madelaine, who fell in love with him after leaving her brief lesbian phase. Just goes to show you, once again, that there is NO FORCE IN THE WORLD more powerful than a hard dick.

   The M.P.  is, of course,  dead.  But we won't tell you where they

hid the body until DEAD V. (Blatant plug). So there.

   Wostgheel,  Beopunk  Cyberwulf,  Imaginos,  and  Admiral  Asshole

despite being relegated to bit-player status in this story nevertheless renewed their contracts for DEAD V. They even managed to get Sysop out of his depression so that he could join them, "Because it just wouldn't be the same."

   And so the high weirdness  continues  with  no  more--we  promise

this–unscheduled and unwarranted unfunny romantic interludes.

   Well, maybe just once, sometime around DEAD VII.

                           AUTHORS' NOTE

———————————————————————-

   Heya,  kids.  Morgan  Bluejeans  here.  Let  me  make  one  thing

perfectly clear. The above is NOT a work of TOTAL fiction….

   Sure,   some   names  have  been  changed...and  some  characters

combined…for the sake of brevity…and to protect the innocent and guilty alike.

   But the story itself is true.
   For  the  record,  I  AM twenty-two,  and "Persephone" is...well,

young. SIGNIFICANTLY younger, in fact, but still "old enough to know better." Old enough to know what the phrase "let's just be friends" does to a guy.

   And YES, "Gelbarion" and I are no longer friends.  So he has been

written out of the series.

   We authors can do things like this.  It's one of the perks of the

job. On the downside, the hours suck.

   Anyway,  as  I  was saying,  the above is basically a true story.

Those of you who KNOW me know exactly whom all of the above characters represent. I hope you will respect THEIR feelings by not making them feel like shit about all the above. It was meant in fun, and as a means of relieving a case of chronic depression. What it was NOT meant as, is a vicious attack on "Gelbarion", "Persephone", "Monk", and the rest. They are just as pained as I am over the recent events that I have seen fit to mock above, with the help of the rest of the staff here at Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions. Perhaps even moreso, so please don't ask me for "Persephone"'s real name, REAL age, REAL breast size (significantly larger than grapes, though not, perhaps as large as pomegranates), or anything like that….or you'll find out just how real the "Assembly of Death" is.

   And I really mean that.
   I would also like to add two things here:
   1)  Monk,  you're  a  pretty cool guy anyway...and I wish you and

your current fiancee all the luck in the world.

   2) Persygirl, I still love you....

———————————————————————-

                         ON A LIGHTER NOTE

———————————————————————-

   We here at Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions believe in giving

credit where credit is due. There are several lines and even ENTIRE PARAGRAPHS that were blatantly stolen from other funny people. Here, we would like to give credit to all the people we have stolen things from throughout this romance.

   Phil Katz, and Robert K. Jung, respectively, for their wonderful

archiving utilities. It's nice to know that they port from the MSDOS platform and into Imaginos's sock drawer.

   Arnold Schwarzenegger, for not killing us.
   Dave Barry, for "Zambini Brothers Fruit Wine and Dessert

Topping". In fact, for most of our humor. Bluejeans and Dedaparamaxx have lately been existing on a reading diet high in Dave Barry. You see the effects.

   Rush Limbaugh, for lending Beopunk Cyberwulf his opinions of

condoms in school.

   Madelaine, for her vagina.
   Entymologists everywhere for not killing us for abbreviating

"Cicada" as "Cic."

   Diadem <*>, for allowing us to steal that symbol next to her

name.

   Fruit of the Loom, for not suing the underwear off us.
   Sherwood Schwartz, producer of the Brady Bunch.
   Harlequin Romance novels, for "he thrusts..."
   Eastman and Laird, for Those Mighty Nifty Terrapins.
   Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy's.  Just because we like his

commercials. Don't worry, Dave, BigZero doesn't really eat that much mayo.

   Miss Manners, for allowing Meg O'Ram to write her letters in

third person singular, just like Miss Manners does.

   Lord Mom, for the chicken soup.
   Kurt Vonnegut Jr., for "The Big Space Fuck," and other fine

stories.

   Bill the Cat for "ACK!"
   Wagner for his very nice, but horribly long, "Ring Cycle."
   The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders for not siccing the Cowboys on

us.

   Rogers and Hammerstein for pieces of "Sixteen Going On Seventeen"

and in general for "The Sound of Music." Not as long as the Ring Cycle, but still nice.

   James Taylor, for a piece of "Down in the Hole" from the "New

Moon Shine" album.

   Nabokov for "Lolita."
   J.R.R. Tolkein for "The Breaking of the Fellowship" and for his

wonderful work, in general.

   Practically every movie ever made for montages of idyllic scenes.
   The Limited and Cuterly world,  for allowing us to give them free

advertising.

   The Democrats and the Republicans  for  making  better  fools  of

themselves than we EVER could.

   The real Persephone for "oh boogersnots!"
   John Belushi for "Landshark."
   The preschoolers of America for "ARE NOT!" "ARE TOO" etc.
   Bugs Bunny for "I hope you weawize..."
   Jeff,  just  for  being  him.  And  for bugging us,  without ever

touching us. And for cookies.

   Thank you all, and have a GOOD night.

CREDITS


  Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions (lack-of-good) Management Staff
  --------------------------------------------------------------
   Dedaparamaxx: Head writer, head dum kopf, head head.
   Imaginos: Master of cows and demented thoughts.
   Morgan Bluejeans: Cyberspace expert, maker of "big funnies."
   Tempus Fugit: Latin scholar, possessor of "outrageous French
                 Accent."
            Sometimes, but not all times, staff writers
            -------------------------------------------
   Jeff the Riffer: Evil!  Evil!  Evil!
   Diskwiz: Cyberspace engineer, editor-in-sleep.

IF YOU'RE CRAZY ENOUGH TO WANT TO CONTACT US:


Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions, LTD, INC, PhD, BS, FTD. 8009 SW 55th PL Gainesville, FL 32608

   No CODs please.  We don't like getting fish in the mail.  That is

a REAL address, and any correspondence sent there will be answered according to our moods, but it WILL be answered. Letter bombs will be returned to sender, unopened. Drugs, money, complements, and general ramblings are accepted.

   To receive a group photo of  the  Dedaparamaxxaginos  Productions

staff, send a self-addressed, stamped envelope and a quarter wrapped in duct tape to the above address.

   Mail may also be sent to mongo@maple.circa.ufl.edu.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- mongo@maple.circa.ufl.edu Bryan Slatner, aka Marimaxx, aka Dedalus, aka Paradox, aka Mongo President of Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions

If these opinions were the opinions of JenMar International, Inc., I would own it. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

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